Society And its Purpose
Book 3 - Determining the End of Civil Societies
CHAPTER 13
Continuation — the second legislators; philosophers
432. As we have seen, conquerors cannot heal the masses that have reached final social corruption; they can only dissolve corrupt societies and make slaves of their members. But can such a great work be undertaken with more hope of success by the reason of individuals who attempt to remedy social evils through coercive laws or philosophical teachings? The facts show clearly that in the ancient world both classes of individuals were powerless. Let us look also at these final efforts of nations doomed to destruction, at these generous but vain attempts of mistaken individuals, ignorant of the immense difficulty of the work they undertake and of the limitation of their power over the masses.
433. I would first point out that the laws of which we are speaking here must be carefully distinguished from those of the first legislators who brought order to nascent societies. The second legislators, who belong to the final stage of social corruption, make laws with the sole intention of providing some bulwark against the universal corruption threatening to destroy the very foundations of society. These laws are not designed to bring order into society. They are necessarily coercive and intended to restrict abused common freedom. As such, they present themselves as somewhat hard and bleak; they are too detailed, sometimes rather odd and often contain what is in effect unjust and excessive — although at the time they seem neither odd nor unjust in any way to the legislators.(182)
434. In the same way, we have to distinguish moral laws invented by sages when society has reached old age, and the opinions about virtues and vices which hold sway over the masses in the infancy of society. Although people may not know how to express these opinions well, such laws are free from error and (this is much more telling) efficacious.
435. Both second laws and philosophical teachings presuppose progress in intellectual progress, that is, a higher order of reflection. In general, every provision destined to adjust disorder supposes intellectual reflection on the disorder and on the means for correcting it. The first ways of ordering society, and the moral opinions which first govern the masses, appertain to a lower order of reflection than coercive laws and philosophy. We need to ask, therefore, how certain individuals reach a higher order of reflection at the moment the masses allow their intelligence to stagnate in idleness.
436. This transition to coercive, preventative laws, and to philosophical teachings, must itself be attributed more to necessity than to individual decisions. We must not lose sight of the nature of the ancient world which forms the object of our considerations.
437. The history of civil societies in antiquity shows that this necessity comes about in the following manner. Trade or war greatly developed a nation and set in progress a considerable measure of intelligence. With time, however, and overabundant wealth, luxury and pleasure, the nation fell into extreme corruption. At that point intelligence, which had already been rendered extremely active and thoughtful, felt itself threatened with destruction by love of pleasure. We have to reflect that the feeling aroused in human beings through consciousness of great power over one’s own intelligence and through intense, habitual use of intelligence is more powerful and self-centred than any other human feeling.
438. This power over one’s own intelligence is increased to its greatest extent when the people aspire to grandeur and glory. Later, when the proximate end to which the masses direct their social will consists solely in the voluptuousness and idleness springing from over-abundant pleasure, this power is bereft of matter on which to exercise itself. Because of this, the intellectual nature of human beings must undergo some discomfort and consequent indignation. This is shown, and becomes operative, in more noted individuals who emerge from the masses almost like rocks from the surface of the sea. At the stage of final corruption of a nation, intelligence itself, already aroused, finds in itself this kind of stimulus or instinct to movement and seeks to defend itself.(183)
439. Less corrupt individuals, therefore, with more active intelligence are aware of the decline in public ways of living and use all their ingenuity to shore up society with new laws or by writing moral works of a high quality. Which of the two ways to be taken will depend in great part on the circumstances in which these individuals find themselves. People influential in public affairs endeavour to arm and defend the city-state with suitable laws; others who cannot do this naturally turn to the private study of philosophy.(184) It is incredible how much confidence politicians and philosophers place in their laws and schools respectively from the very beginning. Yet how inefficacious these means prove in corrupt societies! What value have words or writings if the human spirit will not accept them? Censory and especially sumptuary laws,(185) which correspond in character to police laws in modern times, show at most that the human heart is corrupted before the mind.
440. But has any rational dictate expressed in public laws ever healed a corrupt mind? — When a nation has arrived at the stage of making such laws, the objects of common passion take on the characteristics of the love which, according to Aristophanes, the people of Athens bore to Alcibiades: `They hate him, but they cannot live without him’. Evils are seen and deplored, but they are not and cannot be abandoned. Moreover, those who make the laws in the republic are the very people who in some way share in the ferment that has acidified the whole mass. Even if the lawmakers were totally incorrupt, laws made by a few would have no force against the will of all. The reforming laws of any State subject to universal corruption begin as dead letters and soon come to be forgotten or abolished or finally repudiated as stupid and harmful.(186) More foresighted people can then exclaim: `When vices become the norm, all reasonable hope of salvation is lost’.(187) At this point, it is clear that virtue, once it has been banished from the heart, cannot find security or refuge in external enactments of politics.
441. But what of philosophers? The trust they show in their own speculations is even greater than that of politicians in their laws. At the time when philosophers hold sway, philosophy — from which everything is expected — promises everything; philosophy alone claims to guarantee human virtue; indeed, virtue itself consists in philosophy!
442. Opinion about the guarantee of human virtue changes with the times. As long as some natural goodness is preserved by a way of life, and passions have not perverted and falsified the human instinct for judging the usefulness or harm of objects presented to us under attractive or abhorrent aspects, it is natural to posit the guarantee and salvation of virtue in the uprightness of this instinct.
Such an opinion is, however, as short-lived as the incorruption of this instinct. In this case, it is one of those brief, intellectual pauses of which we have spoken. When the germ of human corruption has flowered sufficiently to suffocate natural instinct, it becomes clear that there is no security for virtue in the apparent integrity of nature. At this point, people conclude that this instinct, this direct, simple judgment about good and evil which mankind made in primitive times, is not the firm basis of virtue. This foundation has now to be sought in a some higher mental reflection free from instinctive movements. In other words, it has to be sought in philosophical speculation. A claim is made for the discovery of a great truth: `Human beings cannot remain constant in virtue unless their intelligent spirit is separated from their feeling body and constituted legislator and judge of the body’s activity.’ Philosophy arises from vice as good laws arise from bad ways of life.
443. A still greater change now appears in people’s opinion about the nature of virtue. Philosophers, puffed up by moral speculations, come to consider their observations not as a path, help or guarantee of human virtue, but as virtue itself. They reduce virtue, which consists in practice, to speculation. This alone is sufficient to render their philosophy useless for human betterment. In disguising virtue, they posit it where it is not; they exclude it from the world by the very act with which they claim to introduce and preserve it there.
444. This leads to another reason why philosophy was incapable of opposing the evils of the ancient world. Once virtue had been confused with speculation, only a few individuals could possess such speculation-virtue. The masses could not devote themselves to learning of any kind. Hence philosophers’ habitual contempt for the populace, and their own desire to be considered exceptional. `The things which please the populace bring trivial, superficial pleasure in their wake. — But virtue gives rise to inestimable good, to firmly rooted peace of mind, to sublimity. With fears expelled, a great, unshaken joy, together with affability and breadth of spirit, proceeds from the knowledge of truth’ — `The spirit of the wise person is similar to the surface of the moon: "forever serene, unsullied by cloud"’(188) There is nothing more true or more noble than this description of the sage, but why is the populace, or the whole of mankind, unable to share in the virtue of the sage?
This is an absurd question in the eyes of ancient philosophy. The populace, mankind as a body (the few philosophers are simply an exception), was necessarily excluded from the sanctuary of virtue conceived by philosophers. How could philosophy raise the masses from corruption? Philosophy itself judged this impossible, and never considered it; it went so far as to boast happily about its separation and division from the multitude.
445. The spirit and opinion of philosophers despaired inconsolably of ever leading the great majority to the practice of virtue.(189) This despair and consciousness of their own impotence held them back even from communicating truth which they kept secret, veiled with symbols and enveloped in mysteries.(190) No philosopher ever tried to turn the people from idolatry; despite its falsity, they maintained its suitability for the people. How could the people be regenerated by others who never gave a moment’s thought to rousing them from a superstition which contained the essence of all vice, which fortified vice and was itself the greatest of vices? If there was such a philosopher who, in the midst of polytheism, spoke outside the narrow limits of the schools about the great truth of the unity of God, it was Socrates. But what could he do? Drink the hemlock, and all to no purpose.(191)
446. But even the virtue taught by philosophers was deficient, imperfect and mingled with atrocious errors. Philosophers were indeed incapable of becoming teachers of true religion, which is the only possible starting point for the healing of human infirmities. This, however, was not all. Every other part of philosophy was equally lacking a great part of truth; philosophers wandered aimlessly. In the eyes of the populace, they had no authority and offered no certainty; they looked ridiculous, like blind people coming furiously to blows. Ordinary people could never be motivated efficaciously by such words and cries. Which philosopher could be believed if not even two of them agreed?
447. The first need in the reform of humanity was truth, whole and entire. Philosophy held out no more than grains of truth, never the totality of truth. Take, for instance, the part of truth dealing with the political sciences. Philosophers knew only the last of the three kinds of corruption to which, as we said, the nations of antiquity were subject. It is true that their teachings include many fine arguments against the harm done in public affairs by wealth and pleasure; they did indeed protest indignantly against trade as a corrupting factor of behaviour, and consequently as opposed to virtue, to the well-being of the city-state and to the contentment of the citizens, which is the end of society.(192) All this was well said, but do we ever find that ancient philosophy thought of repressing the citizens’ eagerness for glory, the only ambition of philosophers themselves? It was impossible for philosophers to put a brake on public evils; they were unaware of its original sources. An end greater than human glory had to be shown to mankind, an end which philosophers were unable to indicate to others or propose for themselves. Philosophy, therefore, was unable to hold back the overflowing torrent of public vices which, after corrupting the heart, would go on to overwhelm the mind.
448. At this point, philosophy, despairing of achieving any good, turned back on its course. Having proclaimed virtue, at least in the privacy of the schools by opposing the more material vices, it tired of raising its voice and conspired with vice itself to humanity’s detriment. Dignified, austere teaching is abandoned for the sake of squalid, feckless doctrine which flaunts its shame before the public. Ancient precepts become uncultured, hard, inflexible, false; salutary truths are only the fruit of ignorance and prejudice in undeveloped ages; every solemn norm is old-fashioned, out of place and a source of amusement in those who profess it. Everyone knows the harm done to the already ruined ways of life during the last days of Rome by the philosophy of Epicurus, which was not restricted to the schools but spread everywhere. The books of this philosopher were the first that came to light when digging began under the ashes of Pompeii.
Philosophy, therefore, could do nothing to save the nations; it could not conquer, but was conquered by universal corruption. What remained to sustain the ancient world and prevent its decline into savagery after its feverish horrors? How could civil societies continue to exist?
Notes
(182) I will speak later about censual or sumptuary laws, which belong to this class of laws. — The formation of laws restricting freedom is accelerated by political parties, wars and conquests; the conquerors have to take precautions against those they have conquered. — In India, according to the Codex Manu (c. 9, v. 44), `the land is the property of the person who has cultivated it.' This is the primitive law. Strabo (bk. 15), however, tells us that all Indian lands were the property of the sovereign. This is the later, restrictive law, and probably the result of conquest. — Arrian narrates (Historia Indica, c. 12, §8 and 9) that learned people in India could come from any caste whatsoever. This is the primitive law. But later documents tell us that in India the Brahmins formed an exclusive caste of learned men (an hereditary caste like all the others). This was the later, restrictive law. — The prohibition about reading the Vedas, that is, the books of wisdom which were reserved for the Brahmins, cannot be a primitive law; it must be numbered amongst those promulgated in societies already old.
The same may be said about the abhorrent Pariah or Chandala caste who are not mentioned expressly either by Arrian or Strabo. — In every people which has endured long on the face of the earth, it is easy to note a quantity of such laws which are sometimes necessary in difficult times, but are always troublesome and capable of making government burdensome to those who are governed. Let me offer one example amongst many, even amongst Roman laws. Rome forbade the conquered Carthaginians to learn Greek and study Greek literature. According to Justin, `A decision was taken in the Senate forbidding all Carthaginians to study the Greek tongue or literature. The aim was to prevent oral or written communication with the enemy without the use of an interpreter' (bk. 2, c. 5). This is obviously the legislation of a decayed society.
(183) Note once more that physical sufferings never provide an impulse for the intelligence. Of themselves, they can do nothing for intellective development. Hence, experience shows that the most foresighted people and the most intelligent seekers of renewal are not those subject to physical suffering. Quite the contrary (Cf. Esame delle opinioni di Melchiorre Gioia in favore della moda, observ. 4 and 5). Intelligence is moved only by intelligent instinct generated by an intellective feeling, as in our present case. Here, the intelligence of a nation is in active movement. It does not want to stop because stopping would cause an uncomfortable feeling. As a result, the instinct of intelligence, when deprived of its preceding matter, looks for something to maintain itself in movement.
(184) We have discussed the duty of private and public individuals relative to the help they can give in public affairs in SC, Preface to the Political Works.
(185) Government has recourse to laws whenever corruption is seen in society. An increase in laws originates, therefore, in times when 1. corruption caused by excessive love of power has occurred (in this case, there is an increase in the laws forming internal or external, political public right); 2. corruption caused by excessive greed for wealth has occurred (in this case, civil laws increase); 3. corruption dependent on luxury and pleasure has occurred (in this case sumptuary laws flourish). We must note, however, that the whole of antiquity declared without exception that final corruption resulting from excessive softness was fatal for a nation. The Egyptians provide the first example.
Plutarch narrates (De Isid. e Osir.) that in a temple at Thebes they had erected a column on which were written curses against the king who had first introduced prestigious spending and luxury into Egypt. We could go on to point to those in charge of State affairs who lived amidst the corruption of Rome and unanimously foresaw the fall that would result from the excess of luxury and pleasure which Rome had procured for herself. Everyone agrees that the irremediable destruction of ancient societies depended upon the excess of voluptuous idleness into which all societies fell sooner or later — I shall speak later about Christian nations.
(186) Macrobius, speaking of the Antian law promulgated by Antius Restio to limit the waste resulting from magistrates' banquets, says that after the law had been made, Restio always dined at home to avoid being a witness of its non-observance (Satur., bk. 2, c. 13). Tacitus, speaking of the sumptuary law of Caius Publicius Bibulus, writes: `Caius Bibulus spoke first, and the rest of the aediles after him. They said that sumptuary law was spurned, that forbidden prices of utensils rose daily, and that lesser remedies were of no avail.' Hence Montesquieu's very apt comment on Roman corruption: `The corruption present in the way of life destroyed the law established to destroy the corruption in the way of life. When corruption of this kind becomes universal, law is powerless' (Spir. delle Legg., bk. 23, c. 25).
(187) Senec., Ep. 39.
(188) Sen., De Vita Beata, c. 5; Epist. 39.
(189) This despair about human goodness and virtue was especially prevalent at periods when corruption and vice overflowed. All Tacitus' words are redolent of irremediable despair. If we go further back, we can see it clearly enough in Thucydides himself (cf. bk. 3, §82, 83). — Machiavelli and Guicciardini for their part are a scandal to Christian literature. They belong to the pagan world where their spirit lived and appropriated its feelings and desolate affections.
(190) It is well known that the priests in Egypt made a great mystery of knowledge. In Egyptian temples the statue of Harpochrates could be seen with a finger on the mouth indicating silence. The Sphinx, found at the entrance of all Egyptian temples, was also an emblem of this obligatory secret. The Eleusian mysteries practised by the Greeks were themselves nothing more than teachings kept secret by the initiated. — Finally, all philosophers had a double knowledge, a part reserved for their disciples and a part open to all. The second kind flattered the errors of the populace; it was a school open to the public, but recognised for its deceit. — Compare the school of the philosophers with that of the One who said: `Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit'! (Matt 28: [19].
(191) We know from Xenophon (Hell. 7) that those who killed Euphron, tyrant of Sicily, accused him of the crime of freeing slaves, and even raising them to the rank of citizens. — Freeing slaves was an act of tyranny, just as proclaiming a single God was an act of impiety. Both merited death. We have to ask ourselves what human power or wisdom is sufficient to ensure that humanity practises the two precepts of the love of God and love of neighbour. Yet they are practised.
(192) Plato wanted the capital city of his republic to be at least ten miles from the sea (De Legibus, bk. 4). He maintained that in a well-governed republic the citizens should abstain from trade, and that the State should not want to be a powerful force at sea. According to him, trade ruins behaviour, and seafaring, which renders human beings deceitful, extinguishes every spark of generosity, a potent factor in weakening military discipline. It is worthwhile noting that the great philosopher was of this mind in the century after Themistocles' interpretation of the oracle which had ordered the Athenians, threatened by Xerxes, to take refuge in houses of wood. According to Themistocles, this meant that they should entrust themselves and their possessions to a fleet. He advised his country to become a maritime power, and it was indeed this counsel which enabled the Athenians to prevail over the whole of Greece. Despite this obvious fact, Plato judges that dedication to navigation, and the extension of sea-power, is harmful for a State. Themistocles' advice had produced an immediate, very splendid effect, that is, Athenian dominion, but Plato saw further a century later. In the midst of greatness, he perceived certain signals of age and decline at Athens; he saw that luxury and ways of life had reached final corruption. — Aristotle seems hesitant about the question, `Does seafaring benefit a nation?' (De Rep., bk. 7, c. 6).
Nevertheless, he blames the government of Carthage for blocking senior posts to all except the rich. In such circumstances in his opinion, virtue is of no worth; money is everything. Cicero holds Plato's opinion, and refers to the example of the Carthaginians, corrupted by their trade: `Carthaginians are fraudulent and liars. They are led by lust for money to turn to deception, and they use the multiple, varied words of merchants and strangers to this effect' (Orat. 2 in Rull, n. 94). — The Romans, with the Flaminian or Claudian law, forbade trade to their patricians. Cicero explained this by saying that he did not want `the same people to be rulers and porters'. Augustus condemned the senator Ovinius for sending certain manufactured goods to Egypt on his own account (P. Orosius). All this shows how antiquity agreed about the damage that could be caused by luxury and pleasure, the most terrible enemies a nation could have. Nevertheless, we never see any sign that it feared and suspected glory and overbearing power.