Elements of political science

Introduction

In examining the political institutions of society, the first circumstance that claims our attention is the authority which we see exercised by a few of the citizens over the rest of the community. To ascertain the nature of the rights vested in government, the limits within which obedience is the duty of the people, and the description of persons to whom political authority ought to be entrusted, will, accordingly, under the title of the Constitution of Government, form the First General Division of the following Treatise.

In return for the authority entrusted to government, and to compensate the sacrifice of individual opinions, wishes, and inyiii INTRODUCTION.

(rate the doctrines of this book by a critical examination of various constitutions of government and systems of law (however valuable, if executed with intelligence and impartiality) must be declined, as a task far beyond my abilities and me^ns of information.

In treating of the Duties of Government, I have, in like manner, confined my attention chiefly to the general doctrines connected with this branch of the subject, without endeavouring to enumerate or examine the complicated regulations, laws, and public institutions, which ought to result from the principles to which the several investigations may lead.

But, with respect to the Revenues of Government, although the principles are so simple as to require little illustration, their application is often difficult and abstruse. On this account, even at the hazard of occasional prolixity, I have entered into a much more minute and particular detail.

In every part of the Treatise, I have been

INTRODUCTION. IX

more desirous to exhibit a just and connected view of the important science of politics, than to display erudition respecting old opinions, or ingenuity in defence of such as may be new. I have not, however, refrained from supporting what I consider as the cause of truth, because some of my opinions may be destitute of the authority of venerable names, or opposed to prejudices excited by the late affairs of Europe. Such prejudices will gradually subside, and in the present state of literature, no conclusion which is just can long continue to be regarded as paradoxical,*

* I trust no wish will be imputed to me of claiming as ori* ginal all, or indeed many, of those opinions for which I have neglected to quote authorities. Sometimes the author had escaped my memory, while the opinion remained fixed in my mind ; and, in as far as possible, I was desirous of avoiding the appearance of controversial writing. This last circumstance will account for my referring very seldom to the works of recent authors.

For the purpose of assisting in reference, and of exhibiting a general 'view of the Work, an Analytical Table of Contents is subjoined to the Third Volume.

Contents

OF

THE FIRST VOLUME.

INTRODUCTION.

PRELIMINARY ENQUIRY INTO THE PRINCIPLES OP MORAL APPROBATION.

CHAPTER I. Page

Of the Principles of Moral Approbation, - - - • - 1 Sect. I. Of the Sentiments excited in the Spectator by the

apparent Motives of the Agent, r - . -. * « • * . 3 Sect. II. Of the Sentiments excited in the Spectator by the

direct Consequences of the Action, ------16

Sect. III. Of the Sentiments excited in the Spectator by the

indirect Consequences of the Action, ----- 32

XIV CONTENTS.

CHAP. II. Of the Nature and Degree of Approbation bestowed on the

several Virtues, ---.--.49

Sect. I. Of the Personal Virtues, ------- ib.

Sect. II. Of the Social Virtues, 63

Book I. Of The Constitution Of Government

CHAP. I.

Of the Nature and Limits of the Rights of Government, 84? Sect. I. Of the Natural Rights of Man, - - - - - ib. Sect. II. Of the Divine Right of Government, - - - 94? Sect. III. Of the Right of Government from Compact, 99 Sect. IV. Of the Right of Government from Utility, - 112 Sect. V. Of the Rights of Man in Society, - - - - 134

CHAP. II.

Of the Distribution of Political Power, ----- 156 Sect. I. Of the degree of Political Inequality that is justified by its Utility, --«--**---- ib. Sect. II. Of permanent Political Inequalities founded on

Merit, Riches, or Birth, - - 183

Sect. III. Of the Representation of the People, - - 195 Sect. IV. Of a Senate, ------»-- - 227

Sect. V. Of the Executive Power, ------ 244?

CONTENTS. XV

Book II. Of The Duties Of Government

Introduction, - - - -.-.271

CHAP. I.

Of the Administration of Civil Law, ------ 274,

Sect. I. Of regular Systems of Law, ----- #.

Sect. II. Of Decisions according to Equity, - - - 299

Sect. III. Of Civil Statutes, 31$

CHAP. II.

Of the Administration of Criminal Law, ----- 324

Sect. I. Of the Right of Punishment, ----- %h.

Sect. II. Of the Province of Juries in Criminal Trials, 365

Sect. III. Of Criminal Statutes, 384

PRELIMINARY ENQUIRY

INTO THE

PRINCIPLES OF MORALS.

CHAPTER L

Of the Principles of Moral Approbation and Disapprobation.

When an action is performed in our presence, or circumstantially related to us, there are two aspects in which it may be viewed. It may be considered either in reference to that state of mind in the agent, from which it appears to have proceeded, or in reference to the consequences which seem likely to result from it. In other words, it may be regarded in connexion with its causes, or in connexion with its effects. Viewing it in the first of these lights, we pronounce it proper or improper : Viewing it in the second, we perceive that it is useful or detrimental. This distinction in the manner of considering an ac-

VOL. I. A g OF THE PRINCIPLES OF

tion is familiar to every one. It frequently happens, that what proceeds from the best motives is hurtful in its effects ; and sometimes the most beneficial consequences result from actions dictated by caprice.

Besides the good or evil, which results so immediately from an action, that it must have been in the contemplation and intention of the agent, there are other important, but indirect and remote, consequences, which, although apt to be disregarded by him, are perceived by the spectators, and modify, in a remarkable manner, their moral decisions. These indirect consequences may either coincide with the direct and immediate tendency of the action, or they may be opposed to it. In the one case, they will strengthen, in the other they will mitigate, the praise or blame, to which, in other respects, the action appears to be entitled.

It seems scarcely possible that we should approve or disapprove of an action, except on account of the motives from which it proceeds, or of the effects directly resulting from it, or of the more remote consequences to which it gives rise. But the moral sentiments which have their origin from these separate sources, may vary from each other both in their nature and their force.

MORAL APPROBATION.

Section I

Of the Sentiments excited in the Spectator by the apparent Motives of the Agent

When we view an action in reference to its cause, we attend to the motives of the agent, and consider whether these motives, in their nature and degree, are entitled to praise or blame. The only criterion, to which in this case we can refer, seems to be our own sentiments ; the motives by which we think that we ourselves should have been actuated, and the degree of influence which each of these motives would have exerted in forming our own determination. To himself, each man is the representative of the species. We instantaneously reflect on what, in similar circumstances, we ourselves should have done ; if we perceive a coincidence between the conduct of the agent and that which we think we should have adopted, we approve of his behaviour ; if we perceive a contrariety, we say that he has acted improperly. It does not, indeed, seem possible for an impartial spectator to approve of any line of conduct which, independently of former experience of his own weakness, he does not believe that he himself would have followed, or to disapprove of what, under all the circumstances, he thinks that he himself would have done.

Nor, in setting up his own opinion as the standard for mankind, does an individual run much risk of departing from the truth. Removed from that temptation which the near prospect of an enjoyment or a suffering presents to our senses and our passions, (a temptation which at the time may overturn the most virtuous resolutions) we judge with coolness and impartiality of all the motives which could influence the will. The conduct, which, after such a survey, we think that we should have adopted, will be that which, in similar circumstances, the rest of mankind, like us, would approve. Even the most abandoned wretch, in the absence of temptation, will usually ascribe to himself sufficient fortitude to overcome the delusions of passion, to follow what, at such a time, seems to him the natural line of conduct, and so to regulate his behaviour as to insure his own approbation. If experience has convinced him that he is apt to deviate from this course, he will be surprised at his own weakness, unable to recal, in their original force, the motives by which he was misled, and perfectly aware that what, even in his own case, appears strange and unaccountable, is not the rule by which he ought to judge of the motives of others.

This comparison between the conduct of our fellow-creatures and that which we think would have been our own, leads, by a well-known principle of our nature, to sentiments of pleasure or pain, and, through them, of affection or dislike.

The pleasure which we derive from sympathy with the feelings, sentiments, and tastes of others, is too generally acknowledged, to require much illustration. It is the desire of this enjoyment which connects together men, who, however dissimilar in their characters, are gratified by the same objects, or strongly interested in the same pursuits. It is the capacity of conferring this enjoyment, which, in society, is the powerful attraction of those who, without unworthy compliance, fall easily into the tastes and feelings of their acquaintances. It is the experience of this gratification which sometimes produces an intimate union between persons who have never seen each other, and which constitutes the only indissoluble bond of friendship. No respect for worth or talents can occasion an intimacy between those who feel no mutual sympathies, who

(j OF THE PRINCIPLES OF

are entirely occupied in different pursuits, derive their enjoyments from separate sources, or, on subjects in which both are deeply interested, entertain very opposite opinions. If, in such circumstances, friendships, formed under more happy auspices, can at all be preserved, it is only by avoiding the particular subjects, on which taste, interest, and opinion disagree, and confining conversation to topics on which the sympathy is still complete.

It is another acknowledged principle of our nature, that the pleasure or pain, of which a sentient being is the immediate cause, is always attended with sentiments of affection or dislike. From the fruit which is agreeable to our palate, or the scene which delights our imagination, we receive the simple pleasure, without any accessory feeling of tenderness towards the objects from which it is derived. But it is not so when we can trace our pleasurable or painful emotions to a sentient being as their cause ; and among sentient beings, Man is the chief object of all our affections. No pleasure derived from him is so trifling as to be unproductive of at least a momentary good-will ; no pain so transient as not to leave some traces of alienation or dislike.

When, therefore, we approve of the motives of an agent, we not only perceive that the action, being such as we ourselves would have performed, is right and proper, but we also feel pleasure from sympathy with the sentiments which led to it, and affection towards the person from whose behaviour this pleasure is derived. On the other hand, when we disapprove of an action, as inconsistent with our own sentiments, and therefore improper and wrong, we experience pain from the total want of sympathy with the agent, and conceive dislike towards him by whose perverseness this pain has been occasioned.

In a similar way we judge of the propriety of our own motives. When immediate enjoyment no longer solicits our desires, and the terror of threatened pain has lost its overwhelming influence over our resolutions, we review our own conduct in that dispassionate frame of mind, which, disregarding the adventitious circumstances that gave to some of our motives unusualforce, appreciates them all according to their proper degree of influence upon the will. If, on such a review, we can sympathize in our former feelings \ if we think that we should now act in the manner, in which, amidst the conflict of adverse passions, we had conducted ourselves ; we approve of our behaviour, and feel the highest satisfaction and pride in our self-applause. On the other hand, if, no longer sympathizing in our former feelings, we look back, with wonder and regret, to actions of which the motives now appear frivolous, selfish, or absurd, the consciousness of having incurred our own disapprobation and that of our fellow-creatures, overwhelms us with a sense of our own debasement

Such are nearly the principles of human nature, from which Dr Smith * has accounted for our sense of the propriety and impropriety of actions, and which he has illustrated with equal ingenuity and eloquence. The system appeals for its truth to the feelings and experience of mankind, and is strongly supported by the satisfactory manner in which it explains all those determinations of the moral sense, which are referable, not to the consequences of actions, but to the motives which regulated the conduct of the agent.

In endeavouring to account for any phenomenon, it is a presumption in favour of our hypothesis, that the assumed cause has been followed in other instances by analogous effects ; our con-

* See his Theory of Moral Sentiments, Part I. The difference between his theory and that in the text will be afterwards noticed.

fidence in the opinion is increased, if we find that cause invariably accompanying the effect ; and every deficiency in the proof is supplied, if the degree of the one is always accurately proportioned to that of the other, or if, when this correspondence does not appear, we can account in a consistent manner for the departure from the general rule.

In the system which we are now considering, these several tests of truth seem happily to combine.

Sympathy with the feelings of our neighbours being a source of pleasure to ourselves, and producing good-will towards them, we should naturally expect the analogous sympathy with motives to be productive of similar pleasure, and of similar kindness and esteem. A very slight reflection, too, on what passes in our own breasts, may convince us, that whenever a motive is approved of, this sympathy exists ; and that the degree of approbation is usually proportioned to the degree in which we sympathize with the desires or aversions which appear to have influenced the will. If this sympathy be perfect, if, on a review of all the circumstances, we conceive that we should have acted precisely in the same manner, our approbation will also be complete, and our bencvolent affections strongly excited : if our sympathy be partial, so also will be our commendation : if there be greater opposition than agreement between our sentiments and those of the agent, in the same degree shall we blame his conduct : and if there be a total contrariety and repugnance, according as his motives appear to have been capricious, weak, or wicked, he will become the object of our dislike, contempt, or abhorrence.

But although this correspondence be in general observable between the degree of our sympathy with the motives of an agent, and the degree of approbation or blame with which we regard his action, there are many cases in which what we acknowledge to be proper excites no applause, and there are even some in which what is directly repugnant to the feelings of mankind occasions little or no disapprobation. To eat when we are hungry, to pay our debts, to relieve the wants of others by parting with what is of no importance to our own comfort, though they occasion no emotions in the breast of the spectator, are actions as completely proper as the greatest efforts of heroism ; and, on the other hand, even the atrocious crimes of a mother deserting her offspring, or of one man reducing another to slavery, have scarcely excited indignation in the minds of virtuous and wise philosophers. Such irregularities, however, in the moral sentiments of mankind, may usually be accounted for from the known effects of novelty and surprise on the one hand, or of custom on the other.

When, on contemplating a sentiment entirely new to us, or at least of rare occurrence, we find it consonant to our own feelings, the novelty, itself occasioning a pleasurable emotion, increases the intensity of the sentiment of approbation. It is owing to this circumstance that the ingenious way in which kindness may be shown sometimes more than doubles the obligation ; and that heroism displayed in an unusual manner, though perhaps requiring no greater energy of mind, is more admired than those of its forms to which we have been accustomed. It is not very frequently, indeed, that novelty can thus add its own emotion to that which springs from sympathy ; for, in the varied occurrences of human life, almost every species of feeling, and every manner in which it can influence our behaviour, become familiar to the mind. But it is not so with surprise ; this emotion being excited whenever the feeling that is evinced greatly exceeds,

12 OP THE PRINCIPLES OF

or tails short of, that degree of intensity which previous experience of mankind had led us to expect.

In ordinary cases, we find every one acting in the manner in which we ourselves should have acted. An additional instance of this coincidence, however perfect, calls no attention, and produces no pleasure. It passes as a common occurrence, which, having fully expected, we do not regard ; and consequently our approbation is a sentiment which we scarcely perceive, and never express. But a remarkable deviation, where we looked for the most complete agreement, rouses the mind, and gives a high degree of intensity to the feeling of disgust.

In like manner, when, from experience of our own imperfections or those of others, we entertain no hope of an exact coincidence between the sentiments of the actor and our own, we pass over, with slight animadversion, the usual degree of deviation from propriety. But if, instead of this expected weakness of character, we find that, by an extraordinary effort of self-command, each conflicting motive has been confined to that degree of force with which the cool spectator can fully sympathize, the surprise, occasioned by so unusual a display of mental energy, 6 raises the pleasurable feeling of sympathy to rapture. It is when the mind is roused to strong exertion that every emotion or passion sinks deep into the soul. In this respect, the sentiment of approbation is similar to all other feelings of our nature. Surprise, by producing a state of great excitability, increases the intensity of all our emotions, whether they be of approbation or of blame, of affection or of dislike, of admiration, of sublimity, of terror, or of disgust.

In whatever way this surprise may be excited, whether by our general experience of human nature, or by our knowledge of the national character, or by our acquaintance with the peculiar education, habits, and feelings of the individual, its effect in heightening our moral sentiment is precisely the same. The character and education of an Indian lead us to expect from him the greatest fortitude in the midst of torments. We never, indeed, can sufficiently familiarize ourselves to habits so remote from our own, as to withhold our admiration of a degree of self-command, which to another Indian would appear undeserving of applause. But, were the same coolness to be displayed by a European in the midst of tortures, our admiration would rise to a much higher tone of sublimity. For the same reason, the degree of admiration with which wc regard the elder Brutus will depend on the character which we ascribe to him : whatever that character may have been, the sacrifice of his own feelings to the safety and liberty of his country will be approved \ but if it were ascertained that he had little parental tenderness to subdue, if the conflict was easy between the virtue of the patriot and the affections of the father, our applause of his magnanimity would instantly subside. It is the difficulty that has been overcome, and the surprise excited by unusual force of character, that render the sentiment of propriety elevated and sublime

The effect of custom, on the other hand, is to make an action pass without observation, and thus to weaken our sense either of its propriety or unworthiness. When a practice has grown up with the state, when we have been accustomed to it from our infancy, and have seen it adopted by men of every character, the mind no longer perceives it with any sentiment either of praise or of blame. Barbarous institutions have thus been preserved so long after the circumstances in which they originated had ceased to exist,- that even the w r ise have at last seemed insensible to their folly. If custom sometimes appear to have a more powerful influence on moral sentiment, bestowing even applause on actions trivial, ridiculous, or unjust, this irregularity may always be traced to some association between such actions, and real virtues, of which they are the supposed indications. It is thus that young men are apt to admire prodigality as an indication of spirit, and that the superstitious of almost every country have worshipped apathy, penance, and cruelty, which had become associated in their minds with piety and wisdom. Custom may indeed be regarded as one of the greatest corrupters of our moral sentiments, although its influence, in this respect, has perhaps been overrated. Sometimes it may defraud virtue of her just applause, and still more frequently disguise the deformity of vice ^ but never can it represent the latter as an object of love, or respect, except by showing her through a deceitful medium, adorned with borrowed charms.

Section II

Of the Sentiments excited in the Spectator by the direct Consequences of an Action.

When we transfer our attention, from the motives of the agent to the consequences which result from his action, a totally different set of emotions are excited ; emotions not merely of approbation or blame, of kindness or dislike, but the more energetic sentiments of merit and demerit, the desire of rewarding, and the desire of punishing.

However high our sense of propriety or impropriety may be carried by surprise, whatever admiration or abhorrence may be excited by the motives of our fellow-creatures, never do we feel any desire, merely from such emotions, to bestow upon them a reward or to inflict upon them a punishment. The sentiments of propriety and impropriety seem, in this respect, analogous to those produced by beauty and deformity. They occasion a general good-will or dislike ; but they rarely incline us to confer happiness, and never to inflict pain. It is otherwise when we contemplate the consequences of actions. Not satisfied with expressions merely of applause or of blame, we become impatient to add to the happiness, or the misery, of the agent, in such a manner that he shall feel this addition to his pleasures or his pain to be the result of his own behaviour.

Still, however, these sentiments are, in a great degree, dependent upon the propriety of the action. We can have no inclination to punish what proceeds from motives with which we fully sympathize ; nor can we wish to reward him whose conduct seems selfish or absurd. Propriety, then, modifies, and may sometimes altogether annihilate, our desire of rewarding or of punishing ; though of itself it does not excite such desires.

If we ourselves are the objects of an action, we can scarcely doubt that its utility or hurtfulness are the circumstances which give rise to our desire of rewarding or of punishing. When our enjoyments have been increased by the voluntary act of another, the addition to our happiness is productive of gratitude, which seeks to make compensation for the benefit received. When, on the other hand, our enjoyments have been diminished, or pain has been inflicted upon us, our minds are filled with resentment which

VOL. I. b

IB OF THE PRINCIPLES OF

prompts us, with force almost irresistible, to return evil for evil. Nor are such feelings satisfied by the happiness or misery which may befall our benefactor or enemy, without our intervention. Our gratitude requires that the benefit, our resentment demands that the punishment, should be our own act, and should be decidedly felt as the consequence of the kindness or injury which we had received.

We are not only sensible of our own pleasures and pains, our own desires and aversions, but enter readily and warmly into all the emotions of others. The sight of distress makes us melancholy, that of joy cheerful ; nor can our fellow-creatures feel any sentiment, in which, by sympathy, we do not participate. The spectator accordingly sympathizes with all the emotions of him who is immediately affected by an action. When he attends to its consequences, he perceives that it occasions some degree of happiness or misery ; by sympathy, he feels a portion of these sensations, a degree of pleasure or of pain associated in the strongest manner with the action. Nor is this all. Sympathizing also in the gratitude which the action is fitted to produce, he is willing to assist in rewarding him from whom the benefit has been received : or* feeling an indignation similar to the revenge of the sufferer, he is ready to assist in punishing that violence or fraud by which the injury has been committed. His sentiments, though weaker, are precisely of the same nature with those of the person who is the object of the action ; and, like him, he ascribes to it merit or demerit, according as it excites his sympathetic gratitude or indignation. It would surely be superfluous to prove by many illustrations the existence of these sympathies : It is through them that we become interested in the hero of a poem or a play ; that we tremble when he is in danger, rejoice when he is happy, that we desire the prosperity of his friends, and exult in the punishment of his oppressors.*

Precisely on the same principles, do we judge of the merit or demerit of our own actions. No

* Mr Hume, in his Enquiry concerning the Principles of Morals, has accumulated a vast variety of observations to illustrate the power of utility over our moral sentiments. That it is by sympathy with the feelings of the person who is benefited that the spectator derives pleasure from utility can scarcely be doubted ; but the mode in which this sympathy is excited is a question of great difficulty, upon which it would be improper, ih this preliminary essay, to enlarge. The author will say only, that he is not conscious of that imaginary change of place to which Dr Smith seems to ascribe it. *

20 OF THE 1'UINCIPLES OF

longer influenced by the immediate solicitations of pleasure, or the immediate terrors of pain, we coolly review our own conduct, and observe what consequences have resulted from our actions. If they have been such as to increase the happiness and excite the gratitude of others, sympathizing with their pleasure, and with their desire of rewarding their benefactor, we ascribe merit to ourselves. If, on the other hand, we have injured, and excited the resentment of our neighbours, we sympathize with the pain they have endured, and feel that indignation at ourselves which brands our conduct *with the stamp of demerit. Even our self-love cannot conceal from us that such is the real character of the action which we have committed, or prevent our conscience from reminding us of that resentment which we have justly incurred. In so far, the sense of our own merit or demerit is exactly analogous, to what we should have felt, if we had been considering the actions of another. But, besides this, we cannot avoid the reflection that we ourselves are the objects of those sentiments. If we regard ourselves as the objects of approbation, on account of the propriety of our conduct, and of gratitude, on account of its e£

MORAL APPROBATION. 2 I

fects, we feel an honest pride and self-gratulation, which greatly heighten the pleasure derived from the propriety and utility of the action. If! on the other hand, we consider ourselves as the proper objects of disapprobation, and of indignation, we are overwhelmed with a sense of our own debasement. These sentiments are added to those which we feel from the actions of others, and perhaps no emotions of our nature are so intense, as sucli a pride, or such a humiliation* Self-applause is compounded of admiration, of gratitude, and of pride, all highly pleasurable emotions £ can we wonder that it should swell to rapture ? Self-condemnation is composed of abhorrence, of indignation, and of self, abasement, all highly painful emotions ; can we be surprised that remorse should lead to des* pair ? *

* In judging both of the propriety and merit of our dwri actions, Dr Smith is of opinion that we do not sympathize directly with the motives by which we were influenced, or with the feelings of the person affected by our action,- but with the sentiments o£ the impartial spectator. This double sympathy, while it encumbers the theory, seems altogether unnecessary. When no longer under the power of temptation, each man is to himself the impartial spectator of his former actions, and he is more likely to sympathize with the real happiness or suffering which he has occasioned j than with the feelings of bye-stand* qq OF THE PRINCIPLES OF