David Hume

1748

Edited and rendered into HTML by Jon Roland

As no party, in the present age, can well support itself
without a philosophical or speculative system of principles annexed to its
political or practical one, we accordingly find, that each of the factions into
which this nation is divided has reared up a fabric of the former kind, in
order to protect and cover that scheme of actions which it pursues. The people
being commonly very rude builders, especially in this speculative way, and more
especially still when actuated by party-zeal, it is natural to imagine that
their workmanship must be a little unshapely, and discover evident marks of
that violence and hurry in which it was raised. The one party, by tracing up
government to the Deity, endeavoured to render it so sacred and inviolate, that
it must be little less than sacrilege, however, tyrannical it may become, to
touch or invade it in the smallest article. The other party, by founding
government altogether on the consent of the people, suppose that there is a
kind of original contract, by which the subjects have tacitly reserved
the power of resisting their sovereign, whenever they find themselves aggrieved
by that authority, with which they have, for certain purposes, voluntarily
intrusted him. These are the speculative principles of the two parties, and
these, too, are the practical consequences deduced from them.

I shall venture to affirm, That both these
systems of speculative principles are just; though not in the sense intended
by the parties: and, That both the schemes of practical
consequences are prudent; though not in the extremes to which each party, in
opposition to the other, has commonly endeavoured to carry them.

That the Deity is the ultimate author of all government,
will never be denied by any, who admit a general providence, and allow, that
all events in the universe are conducted by an uniform plan, and directed to
wise purposes. As it is impossible for the human race to subsist, at least in
any comfortable or secure state, without the protection of government, this
institution must certainly have been intended by that beneficent Being, who
means the good of all his creatures: and as it has universally, in fact, taken
place, in all countries, and all ages, we may conclude, with still greater
certainty, that it was intended by that omniscient Being who can never be
deceived by any event or operation. But since he gave rise to it, not by any
particular or miraculous interposition, but by his concealed and universal
efficacy, a sovereign cannot, properly speaking, be called his vicegerent in
any other sense than every power or force, being derived from him, may be said
to act by his commission. Whatever actually happens is comprehended in the
general plan or intention of Providence; nor has the greatest and most lawful
prince any more reason, upon that account, to plead a peculiar sacredness or
inviolable authority, than an inferior magistrate, or even an usurper, or even
a robber and a pirate. The same Divine Superintendent, who, for wise purposes,
invested a Titus or a Trajan with authority, did also, for purposes no doubt
equally wise, though unknown, bestow power on a Borgia or an Angria. The same
causes, which gave rise to the sovereign power in every state, established
likewise every petty jurisdiction in it, and every limited authority. A
constable, therefore, no less than a king, acts by a divine commission, and
possesses an indefeasible right.

When we consider how nearly equal all men are in their
bodily force, and even in their mental powers and faculties, till cultivated by
education, we must necessarily allow, that nothing but their own consent could,
at first, associate them together, and subject them to any authority. The
people, if we trace government to its first origin in the woods and deserts,
are the source of all power and jurisdiction, and voluntarily, for the sake of
peace and order, abandoned their native liberty, and received laws from their
equal and companion. The conditions upon which they were willing to submit,
were either expressed, or were so clear and obvious, that it might well be
esteemed superfluous to express them. If this, then, be meant by the
original contract, it cannot be denied, that all government is, at
first, founded on a contract, and that the most ancient rude combinations of
mankind were formed chiefly by that principle. In vain are we asked in what
records this charter of our liberties is registered. It was not written on
parchment, nor yet on leaves or barks of trees. It preceded the use of writing,
and all the other civilized arts of life. But we trace it plainly in the nature
of man, and in the equality, or something approaching equality, which we find
in all the individuals of that species. The force, which now prevails, and
which is founded on fleets and armies, is plainly political, and derived from
authority, the effect of established government. A man's natural force consists
only in the vigour of his limbs, and the firmness of his courage; which could
never subject multitudes to the command of one. Nothing but their own consent,
and their sense of the advantages resulting from peace and order, could have
had that influence.

Yet even this consent was long very imperfect, and could
not be the basis of a regular administration. The chieftain, who had probably
acquired his influence during the continuance of war, ruled more by persuasion
than command; and till he could employ force to reduce the refractory and
disobedient, the society could scarcely be said to have attained a state of
civil government. No compact or agreement, it is evident, was expressly formed
for general submission; an idea far beyond the comprehension of savages: each
exertion of authority in the chieftain must have been particular, and called
forth by thepresent exigencies of the case: the sensible utility, resulting
from his interposition, made these exertions become daily more frequent; and
their frequency gradually produced an habitual, and, if you please to call it
so, a voluntary, and therefore precarious, acquiescence in the people.

But philosophers, who have embraced a party (if that be
not a contradiction in terms), are not contented with these concessions. They
assert, not only that government in its earliest infancy arose from consent, or
rather the voluntary acquiescence of the people; but also that, even at
present, when it has attained its full maturity, it rests on no other
foundation. They affirm, that all men are still born equal, and owe allegiance
to no prince or government, unless bound by the obligation and sanction of a
promise. And as no man, without some equivalent, would forego the
advantages of his native liberty, and subject himself to the will of another,
this promise is always understood to be conditional, and imposes on him no
obligation, unless he meet with justice and protection from his sovereign.
These advantages the sovereign promises him in return; and if he fail in the
execution, he has broken, on his part, the articles of engagement, and has
thereby freed his subject from all obligations to allegiance. Such, according
to these philosophers, is the foundation of authority in every government, and
such the right of resistance possessed by every subject.

But would these reasoners look abroad into the world,
they would meet with nothing that, in the least, corresponds to their ideas, or
can warrant so refined and philosophical a system. On the contrary, we find
every where princes who claim their subjects as their property, and assert
their independent right of sovereignty, from conquest or succession. We find
also every where subjects who acknowledge this right in their prince, and
suppose themselves born under obligations of obedience to a certain sovereign,
as much as under the ties of reverence and duty to certain parents. These
connexions are always conceived to be equally independent of our consent, in
Persia and China; in France and Spain; and even in Holland and England,
wherever the doctrines above-mentioned have not been carefully inculcated.
Obedience or subjection becomes so familiar, that most men never make any
inquiry about its origin or cause, more than about the principle of gravity,
resistance, or the most universal laws of nature. Or if curiosity ever move
them; as soon as they learn that they themselves and their ancestors have, for
several ages, or from time immemorial, been subject to such a form of
government or such a family, they immediately acquiesce, and acknowledge their
obligation to allegiance. Were you to preach, in most parts of the world, that
political connexions are founded altogether on voluntary consent or a mutual
promise, the magistrate would soon imprison you as seditious for loosening the
ties of obedience; if your friends did not before shut you up as delirious, for
advancing such absurdities. It is strange that an act of the mind, which every
individual is supposed to have formed, and after he came to the use of reason
too, otherwise it could have no authority; that this act, I say, should be so
much unknown to all of them, that over the face of the whole earth, there
scarcely remain any traces or memory of it.

But the contract, on which government is founded, is
said to be the original contract; and consequently may be supposed too
old to fall under the knowledge of the present generation. If the agreement, by
which savage men first associated and conjoined their force, be here meant,
this is acknowledged to be real; but being so ancient, and being obliterated by
a thousand changes of government and princes, it cannot now be supposed to
retain any authority. If we would say any thing to the purpose, we must assert
that every particular government which is lawful, and which imposes any duty of
allegiance on the subject, was, at first, founded on consent and a voluntary
compact. But, besides that this supposes the consent of the fathers to bind the
children, even to the most remote generations (which republican writers will
never allow), besides this, I say, it is not justified by history or experience
in any age or country of the world.

Almost all the governments which exist at present, or of
which there remains any record in story, have been founded originally, either
on usurpation or conquest, or both, without any presence of a fair consent or
voluntary subjection of the people. When an artful and bold man is placed at
the head of an army or faction, it is often easy for him, by employing,
sometimes violence, sometimes false presences, to establish his dominion over a
people a hundred times more numerous than his partisans. He allows no such open
communication, that his enemies can know, with certainty, their number or
force. He gives them no leisure to assemble together in a body to oppose him.
Even all those who are the instruments of his usurpation may wish his fall; but
their ignorance of each other's intention keeps them in awe, and is the sole
cause of his security. By such arts as these many governments have been
established; and this is all the original contract which they have to
boast of.

The face of the earth is continually changing, by the
increase of small kingdoms into great empires, by the dissolution of great
empires into smaller kingdoms, by the planting of colonies, by the migration of
tribes. Is there any thing discoverable in all these events but force and
violence? Where is the mutual agreement or voluntary association so much talked
of?

Even the smoothest way by which a nation may receive a
foreign master, by marriage or a will, is not extremely honourable for the
people; but supposes them to be disposed of, like a dowry or a legacy,
according to the pleasure or interest of their rulers.

But where no force interposes, and election takes place;
what is this election so highly vaunted? It is either the combination of a few
great men, who decide for the whole, and will allow of no opposition; or it is
the fury of a multitude, that follow a seditious ringleader, who is not known,
perhaps, to a dozen among them, and who owes his advancement merely to his own
impudence, or to the momentary caprice of his fellows.

Are these disorderly elections, which are rare too, of
such mighty authority as to be the only lawful foundation of all government and
allegiance?

In reality, there is not a more terrible event than a
total dissolution of government, which gives liberty to the multitude, and
makes the determination or choice of a new establishment depend upon a number,
which nearly approaches to that of the body of the people: for it never comes
entirely to the whole body of them. Every wise man then wishes to see, at the
head of a powerful and obedient army, a general who may speedily seize the
prize, and give to the people a master which they are so unfit to choose for
themselves. So little correspondent is fact and reality to those philosophical
notions.

Let not the establishment at the Revolution
deceive us, or make us so much in love with a philosophical origin to
government, as to imagine all others monstrous and irregular. Even that event
was far from corresponding to these refined ideas. It was only the succession,
and that only in the regal part of the government, which was then changed: and
it was only the majority of seven hundred, who determined that change for near
ten millions. I doubt not, indeed, but the bulk of those ten millions
acquiesced willingly in the determination: but was the matter left, in the
least, to their choice? Was it not justly supposed to be, from that moment,
decided, and every man punished, who refused to submit to the new sovereign?
How otherwise could the matter have ever been brought to any issue or
conclusion?

The republic of Athens was, I believe, the most
extensive democracy that we read of in history: yet if we make the requisite
allowances for the women, the slaves, and the strangers, we shall find, that
that establishment was not at first made, nor any law ever voted, by a tenth
part of those who were bound to pay obedience to it; not to mention the islands
and foreign dominions, which the Athenians claimed as theirs by right of
conquest. And as it is well known that popular assemblies in that city were
always full of license and disorder, not withstanding the institutions and laws
by which they were checked; how much more disorderly must they prove, where
they form not the established constitution, but meet tumultuously on the
dissolution of the ancient government, in order to give rise to a new one? How
chimerical must it be to talk of a choice in such circumstances?

The Achæans enjoyed the freest and most perfect
democracy of all antiquity; yet they employed force to oblige some cities to
enter into their league, as we learn from Polybius.

Harry the IVth and Harry the VIIth of England, had
really no title to the throne but a parliamentary election; yet they never
would acknowledge it, lest they should thereby weaken their authority. Strange,
if the only real foundation of all authority be consent and promise?

It is in vain to say, that all governments are, or
should be, at first, founded on popular consent, as much as the necessity of
human affairs will admit. This favours entirely my pretension. I maintain, that
human affairs will never admit of this consent, seldom of the appearance of it;
but that conquest or usurpation, that is, in plain terms, force, by dissolving
the ancient governments, is the origin of almost all the new ones which were
ever established in the world. And that in the few cases where consent may seem
to have taken place, it was commonly so irregular, so confined, or so much
intermixed either with fraud or violence, that it cannot have any great
authority.

My intention here is not to exclude the consent of the
people from being one just foundation of government where it has place. It is
surely the best and most sacred of any. I only pretend, that it has very seldom
had place in any degree, and never almost in its full extent; and that,
therefore, some other foundation of government must also be admitted.

Were all men possessed of so inflexible a regard to
justice, that, of themselves, they would totally abstain from the properties of
others; they had for ever remained in a state of absolute liberty, without
subjection to any magistrate or political society: but this is a state of
perfection, of which human nature is justly deemed incapable. Again, were all
men possessed of so perfect an understanding as always to know their own
interests, no form of government had ever been submitted to but what was
established on consent, and was fully canvassed by every member of the society:
but this state of perfection is likewise much superior to human nature. Reason,
history, and experience shew us, that all political societies have had an
origin much less accurate and regular; and were one to choose a period of time
when the people's consent was the least regarded in public transactions, it
would be precisely on the establishment of a new government. In a settled
constitution their inclinations are often consulted; but during the fury of
revolutions, conquests, and public convulsions, military force or political
craft usually decides the controversy.

When a new government is established, by whatever means,
the people are commonly dissatisfied with it, and pay obedience more from fear
and necessity, than from any idea of allegiance or of moral obligation. The
prince is watchful and jealous, and must carefully guard against every
beginning or appearance of insurrection. Time, by degrees, removes all these
difficulties, and accustoms the nation to regard, as their lawful or native
princes, that family which at first they considered as usurpers or foreign
conquerors. In order to found this opinion, they have no recourse to any notion
of voluntary consent or promise, which, they know, never was, in this case,
either expected or demanded. The original establishment was formed by violence,
and submitted to from necessity. The subsequent administration is also
supported by power, and acquiesced in by the people, not as a matter of choice,
but of obligation. They imagine not that their consent gives their prince a
title: but they willingly consent, because they think, that, from long
possession, he has acquired a title, independent of their choice or
inclination.

Should it be said, that, by living under the dominion of
a prince which one might leave, every individual has given a tacit
consent to his authority, and promised him obedience; it may be answered, that
such an implied consent can only have place where a man imagines that the
matter depends on his choice. But where he thinks (as all mankind do who are
born under established governments) that, by his birth, he owes allegiance to a
certain prince or certain form of government; it would be absurd to infer a
consent or choice, which he expressly, in this case, renounces and disclaims.

Can we seriously say, that a poor peasant or artisan has
a free choice to leave his country, when he knows no foreign language or
manners, and lives, from day to day, by the small wages which he acquires? We
may as well assert that a man, by remaining in a vessel, freely consents to the
dominion of the master; though he was carried on board while asleep, and must
leap into the ocean and perish, the moment he leaves her.

What if the prince forbid his subjects to quit his
dominions; as in Tiberius's time, it was regarded as a crime in a Roman knight
that he had attempted to fly to the Parthians, in order to escape the tyranny
of that emperor? [1] Or as the ancient
Muscovites prohibited all travelling under pain of death? And did a prince
observe, that many of his subjects were seized with the frenzy of migrating to
foreign countries, he would, doubtless, with great reason and justice, restrain
them, in order to prevent the depopulation of his own kingdom. Would he forfeit
the allegiance of all his subjects by so wise and reasonable a law? Yet the
freedom of their choice is surely, in that case, ravished from them.

A company of men, who should leave their native country,
in order to people some uninhabited region, might dream of recovering their
native freedom; but they would soon find, that their prince still laid claim to
them, and called them his subjects, even in their new settlement. And in this
he would but act conformably to the common ideas of mankind.

The truest tacit consent of this kind that is
ever observed, is when a foreigner settles in any country, and is beforehand
acquainted with the prince, and government, and laws, to which he must submit:
yet is his allegiance, though more voluntary, much less expected or depended
on, than that of a natural born subject. On the contrary, his native prince
still asserts a claim to him. And if he punish not the renegade, where he
seizes him in war with his new prince's commission; this clemency is not
founded on the municipal law, which in all countries condemns the prisoner; but
on the consent of princes, who have agreed to this indulgence, in order to
prevent reprisals.

Did one generation of men go off the stage at once, and
another succeed, as is the case with silkworms and butterflies, the new race,
if they had sense enough to choose their government, which surely is never the
case with men, might voluntarily, and by general consent, establish their own
form of civil polity, without any regard to the laws or precedents which
prevailed among their ancestors. But as human society is in perpetual flux, one
man every hour going out of the world, another coming into it, it is necessary,
in order to preserve stability in government, that the new brood should conform
themselves to the established constitution, and nearly follow the path which
their fathers, treading in the footsteps of theirs, had marked out to them.
Some innovations must necessarily have place in every human institution; and it
is happy where the enlightened genius of the age give these a direction to the
side of reason, liberty, and justice: but violent innovations no individual is
entitled to make: they are even dangerous to be attempted by the legislature:
more ill than good is ever to be expected from them: and if history affords
examples to the contrary, they are not to be drawn into precedent, and are only
to be regarded as proofs, that the science of politics affords few rules, which
will not admit of some exception, and which may not sometimes be controlled by
fortune and accident. The violent innovations in the reign of Henry VIII.
proceeded from an imperious monarch, seconded by the appearance of legislative
authority: those in the reign of Charles I. were derived from faction and
fanaticism; and both of them have proved happy in the issue. But even the
former were long the source of many disorders, and still more dangers; and if
the measures of allegiance were to be taken from the latter, a total anarchy
must have place in human society, and a final period at once be put to every
government.

Suppose that an usurper, after having banished his
lawful prince and royal family, should establish his dominion for ten or a
dozen years in any country, and should preserve so exact a discipline in his
troops, and so regular a disposition in his garrisons that no insurrection had
ever been raised, or even murmur heard against his administration: can it be
asserted that the people, who in their hearts abhor his treason, have tacitly
consented to his authority, and promised him allegiance, merely because, from
necessity, they live under his dominion? Suppose again their native prince
restored, by means of an army, which he levies in foreign countries: they
receive him with joy and exultation, and shew plainly with what reluctance they
had submitted to any other yoke. I may now ask, upon what foundation the
prince's title stands? Not on popular consent surely: for though the people
willingly acquiesce in his authority, they never imagine that their consent
made him sovereign. They consent; because they apprehend him to be already by
birth, their lawful sovereign. And as to that tacit consent, which may now be
inferred from their living under his dominion, this is no more than what they
formerly gave to the tyrant and usurper.

When we assert, that all lawful government arises from
the consent of the people, we certainly do them a great deal more honour than
they deserve, or even expect and desire from us. After the Roman dominions
became too unwieldy for the republic to govern them, the people over the whole
known world were extremely grateful to Augustus for that authority which, by
violence, he had established over them; and they shewed an equal disposition to
submit to the successor whom he left them by his last will and testament. It
was afterwards their misfortune, that there never was, in one family, any long
regular succession; but that their line of princes was continually broken,
either by private assassinations or public rebellions. The
prætorian bands, on the failure of every family, set up one
emperor; the legions in the East a second; those in Germany, perhaps a third;
and the sword alone could decide the controversy. The condition of the people
in that mighty monarchy was to be lamented, not because the choice of the
emperor was never left to them, for that was impracticable, but because they
never fell under any succession of masters who might regularly follow each
other. As to the violence, and wars, and bloodshed, occasioned by every new
settlement, these were not blameable because they were inevitable.

The house of Lancaster ruled in this island about sixty
years; yet the partisans of the white rose seemed daily to multiply in England.
The present establishment has taken place during a still longer period. Have
all views of right in another family been utterly extinguished, even though
scarce any man now alive had arrived at the years of discretion when it was
expelled, or could have consented to its dominion, or have promised it
allegiance? -- a sufficient indication, surely, of the general sentiment of
mankind on this head. For we blame not the partisans of the abdicated family
merely on account of the long time during which they have preserved their
imaginary loyalty. We blame them for adhering to a family which we affirm has
been justly expelled, and which, from the moment the new settlement took place,
had forfeited all title to authority.

But would we have a more regular, at least a more
philosophical, refutation of this principle of an original contract, or popular
consent, perhaps the following observations may suffice.

All moral duties may be divided into two kinds.
The first are those to which men are impelled by a natural instinct or
immediate propensity which operates on them, independent of all ideas of
obligation, and of all views either to public or private utility. Of this
nature are love of children, gratitude to benefactors, pity to the unfortunate.
When we reflect on the advantage which results to society from such humane
instincts, we pay them the just tribute of moral approbation and esteem: but
the person actuated by them feels their power and influence antecedent to any
such reflection.

The second kind of moral duties are such as are
not supported by any original instinct of nature, but are performed entirely
from a sense of obligation, when we consider the necessities of human society,
and the impossibility of supporting it, if these duties were neglected. It is
thus justice, or a regard to the property of others, fidelity, or
the observance of promises, become obligatory, and acquire an authority over
mankind. For as it is evident that every man loves himself better than any
other person, he is naturally impelled to extend his acquisitions as much as
possible; and nothing can restrain him in this propensity but reflection and
experience, by which he learns the pernicious effects of that license, and the
total dissolution of society which must ensue from it. His original
inclination, therefore, or instinct, is here checked and restrained by a
subsequent judgment or observation.

The case is precisely the same with the political or
civil duty of allegiance as with the natural duties of justice and
fidelity. Our primary instincts lead us either to indulge ourselves in
unlimited freedom, or to seek dominion over others; and it is reflection only
which engages us to sacrifice such strong passions to the interests of peace
and public order. A small degree of experience and observation suffices to
teach us, that society cannot possibly be maintained without the authority of
magistrates, and that this authority must soon fall into contempt where exact
obedience is not paid to it. The observation of these general and obvious
interests is the source of all allegiance, and of that moral obligation which
we attribute to it.

What necessity, therefore, is there to found the duty of
allegiance or obedience to magistrates on that of fidelity or a
regard to promises, and to suppose, that it is the consent of each individual
which subjects him to government, when it appears that both allegiance and
fidelity stand precisely on the same foundation, and are both submitted to by
mankind, on account of the apparent interests and necessities of human society?
We are bound to obey our sovereign, it is said, because we have given a tacit
promise to that purpose. But why are we bound to observe our promise? It must
here be asserted, that the commerce and intercourse of mankind, which are of
such mighty advantage, can have no security where men pay no regard to their
engagements. In like manner, may it be said that men could not live at all in
society, at least in a civilized society, without laws, and magistrates, and
judges, to prevent the encroachments of the strong upon the weak, of the
violent upon the just and equitable. The obligation to allegiance being of like
force and authority with the obligation to fidelity, we gain nothing by
resolving the one into the other. The general interests or necessities of
society are sufficient to establish both.

If the reason be asked of that obedience, which we are
bound to pay to government, I readily answer, Because society could not
otherwise subsist; and this answer is clear and intelligible to all
mankind. Your answer is, Because we should keep our word. But besides,
that no body, till trained in a philosophical system, can either comprehend or
relish this answer; besides this, I say, you find yourself embarrassed when it
is asked, Why we are bound to keep our word? Nor can you give any answer
but what would, immediately, without any circuit, have accounted for our
obligation to allegiance.

But to whom is allegiance due? And who is our lawful
sovereign? This question is often the most difficult of any, and liable to
infinite discussions. When people are so happy that they can answer, Our
present sovereign, who inherits, in a direct line, from ancestors that have
governed us for many ages, this answer admits of no reply, even though
historians, in tracing up to the remotest antiquity the origin of that royal
family, may find, as commonly happens, that its first authority was derived
from usurpation and violence. It is confessed that private justice, or the
abstinence from the properties of others, is a most cardinal virtue. Yet reason
tells us that there is no property in durable objects, such as lands or houses,
when carefully examined in passing from hand to hand, but must, in some period,
have been founded on fraud and injustice. The necessities of human society,
neither in private nor public life, will allow of such an accurate inquiry; and
there is no virtue or moral duty but what may, with facility, be refined away,
if we indulge a false philosophy in sifting and scrutinizing it, by every
captious rule of logic, in every light or position in which it may be placed.

The questions with regard to private property have
filled infinite volumes of law and philosophy, if in both we add the
commentators to the original text; and in the end, we may safely pronounce,
that many of the rules there established are uncertain, ambiguous, and
arbitrary. The like opinion may be formed with regard to the succession and
rights of princes, and forms of government. Several cases no doubt occur,
especially in the infancy of any constitution, which admit of no determination
from the laws of justice and equity; and our historian Rapin pretends, that the
controversy between Edward the Third and Philip de Valois was of this nature,
and could be decided only by an appeal to heaven, that is, by war and
violence.

Who shall tell me, whether Germanicus or Drusus ought to
have succeeded to Tiberius, had he died while they were both alive, without
naming any of them for his successor? Ought the right of adoption to be
received as equivalent to that of blood, in a nation where it had the same
effect in private families, and had already, in two instances, taken place in
the public? Ought Germanicus to be esteemed the elder son, because he was born
before Drusus; or the younger, because he was adopted after the birth of his
brother? Ought the right of the elder to be regarded in a nation, where he had
no advantage in the succession of private families? Ought the Roman empire at
that time to be deemed hereditary, because of two examples; or ought it, even
so early, to be regarded as belonging to the stronger, or to the present
possessor, as being founded on so recent an usurpation?

Commodus mounted the throne after a pretty long
succession of excellent emperors, who had acquired their title, not by birth,
or public election, but by the fictitious rite of adoption. That bloody
debauchee being murdered by a conspiracy, suddenly formed between his wench and
her gallant, who happened at that time to be Prætorian
Præfect; these immediately deliberated about choosing a master to
human kind, to speak in the style of those ages; and they cast their eyes on
Pertinax. Before the tyrant's death was known, the Præfect went
secretly to that senator, who, on the appearance of the soldiers, imagined that
his execution had been ordered by Commodus. He was immediately saluted emperor
by the officer and his attendants, cheerfully proclaimed by the populace,
unwillingly submitted to by the guards, formally recognized by the senate, and
passively received by the provinces and armies of the empire.

The discontent of the Prætorian bands broke
out in a sudden sedition, which occasioned the murder of that excellent prince;
and the world being now without a master, and without government, the guards
thought proper to set the empire formally to sale. Julian, the purchaser, was
proclaimed by the soldiers, recognized by the senate, and submitted to by the
people; and must also have been submitted to by the provinces, had not the envy
of the legions begotten opposition and resistance. Pescennius Niger in Syria
elected himself emperor, gained the tumultuary consent of his army, and was
attended with the secret good-will of the senate and people of Rome. Albinus in
Britain found an equal right to set up his claim; but Severus, who governed
Pannonia, prevailed in the end above both of them. That able politician and
warrior, finding his own birth and dignity too much inferior to the imperial
crown, professed, at first, an intention only of revenging the death of
Pertinax. He marched as general into Italy, defeated Julian, and, without our
being able to fix any precise commencement even of the soldiers' consent, he
was from necessity acknowledged emperor by the senate and people, and fully
established in his violent authority, by subduing Niger and Albinus.

Inter hæc Gordianus Cæsar (says
Capitolinus, speaking of another period) sublatus a militibus. Imperator
est appellatus, quia non erat alius in præsenti. It is to be
remarked, that Gordian was a boy of fourteen years of age.

Frequent instances of a like nature occur in the history
of the emperors; in that of Alexander's successors; and of many other
countries: nor can any thing be more unhappy than a despotic government of this
kind; where the succession is disjointed and irregular, and must be determined,
on every vacancy, by force or election. In a free government, the matter is
often unavoidable, and is also much less dangerous. The interests of liberty
may there frequently lead the people, in their own defence, to alter the
succession of the crown. And the constitution, being compounded of parts, may
still maintain a sufficient stability, by resting on the aristocratical or
democratical members, though the monarchical be altered, from time to time, in
order to accommodate it to the former.

In an absolute government, when there is no legal
prince who has a title to the throne, it may safely be determined to belong to
the first occupant. Instances of this kind are but too frequent, especially in
the eastern monarchies. When any race of princes expires, the will or
destination of the last sovereign will be regarded as a title. Thus the edict
of Louis the XIVth, who called the bastard princes to the succession in case of
the failure of all the legitimate princes, would, in such an event, have some
authority. [2] Thus the will of Charles
the Second disposed of the whole Spanish monarchy. The cession of the ancient
proprietor, especially when joined to conquest, is likewise deemed a good
title. The general obligation, which binds us to government, is the interest
and necessities of society; and this obligation is very strong. The
determination of it to this or that particular prince, or form of government,
is frequently more uncertain and dubious. Present possession has considerable
authority in these cases, and greater than in private property; because of the
disorders which attend all revolutions and changes of government.

We shall only observe, before we conclude, that though
an appeal to general opinion may justly, in the speculative sciences of
metaphysics, natural philosophy, or astronomy, be deemed unfair and
inconclusive, yet in all questions with regard to morals, as well as criticism,
there is really no other standard, by which any controversy can ever be
decided. And nothing is a clearer proof, that a theory of this kind is
erroneous, than to find, that it leads to paradoxes repugnant to the common
sentiments of mankind, and to the practice and opinion of all nations and all
ages. The doctrine, which founds all lawful government on an original
contract, or consent of the people, is plainly of this kind; nor has the
most noted of its partisans, in prosecution of it, scrupled to affirm, that
absolute monarchy is inconsistent with civil society, and so can be no form of
civil government at all;[3] and
that the supreme power in a state cannot take from any man, by taxes and
impositions, any part of his property, without his own consent or that of his
representatives.[4] What authority
any moral reasoning can have, which leads into opinions so wide of the general
practice of mankind, in every place but this single kingdom, it is easy to
determine.

The only passage I meet with in antiquity, where the obligation of
obedience to government is ascribed to a promise, is in Plato's Crito;
where Socrates refuses to escape from prison, because he had tacitly promised
to obey the laws. Thus he builds a Tory consequence of passive obedience
on a Whig foundation of the original contract.

New discoveries are not to be expected in these matters.
If scarce any man, till very lately, ever imagined that government was founded
on compact, it is certain that it cannot, in general, have any such foundation.

The crime of rebellion among the ancients was commonly
expressed by the terms νεοτεριζειν, νουας ρες μολιρι.

2. It is remarkable,
that in the remonstrance of the Duke of Bourbon and the legitimate princes,
against this destination of Louis the XIVth, the doctrine of the original
contract is insisted on even in that absolute government. The French
nation, say they, choosing Hugh Capet and his posterity to rule over them and
their posterity, where the former line fails, there is a tacit right reserved
to choose a new royal family; and this right is invaded by calling the bastard
princes to the throne, without the consent of the nation. But the Comte de
Boulainvilliers, who wrote in defence of the bastard princes, ridicules this
notion of an original contract, especially when applied to Hugh Capet; who
mounted the throne, says he, by the same arts which have ever been employed by
all conquerors and usurpers. He got his title, indeed, recognized by the states
after he had put himself in possession: but is this a choice or contract? The
Comte de Boulainvilliers, we may observe, was a noted republican; but being a
man of learning, and very conversant in history, he knew that the people were
almost never consulted in these revolutions and new establishments, and that
time alone bestowed right and authority on what was commonly at first founded
on force and violence. See Etat de la France, vol. iii.