Justice

THAT Justice is useful to society, and consequently that PART of its merit, at least, must arise from that consideration, it would be a superfluous undertaking to prove. That public utility is the SOLE origin of justice, and that reflections on the beneficial consequences of this virtue are the SOLE foundation of its merit; this proposition, being more curious and important, will better deserve our examination and enquiry.

There is no need to prove that justice is useful to society. At least part of its merit must therefore come from its usefulness. A more intriguing and important claim deserves closer examination. This is the claim that public benefit is the sole origin of justice, and that its merit rests solely on considering its beneficial consequences.

Let us suppose that nature has bestowed on the human race such profuse ABUNDANCE of all EXTERNAL conveniencies, that, without any uncertainty in the event, without any care or industry on our part, every individual finds himself fully provided with whatever his most voracious appetites can want, or luxurious imagination wish or desire. His natural beauty, we shall suppose, surpasses all acquired ornaments: the perpetual clemency of the seasons renders useless all clothes or covering: the raw herbage affords him the most delicious fare; the clear fountain, the richest beverage. No laborious occupation required: no tillage: no navigation. Music, poetry, and contemplation form his sole business: conversation, mirth, and friendship his sole amusement. It seems evident that, in such a happy state, every other social virtue would flourish, and receive tenfold increase; but the cautious, jealous virtue of justice would never once have been dreamed of. For what purpose make a partition of goods, where every one has already more than enough? Why give rise to property, where there cannot possibly be any injury? Why call this object MINE, when upon the seizing of it by another, I need but stretch out my hand to possess myself to what is equally valuable? Justice, in that case, being totally useless, would be an idle ceremonial, and could never possibly have place in the catalogue of virtues.

Suppose nature has given the human race such an ABUNDANCE of external comforts that everyone has everything they could want. Without any uncertainty, care, or effort, each person has enough to satisfy the most voracious appetites and the most luxurious wishes. Suppose also that natural beauty surpasses all artificial adornment. The seasons are always so mild that no clothes or coverings are needed. Raw plants provide the most delicious food, and clear springs the richest drink. No hard work is required: no farming and no sailing. Music, poetry, and contemplation are people’s only occupations. Conversation, laughter, and friendship are their only amusements. Clearly, in such a happy state, every other social virtue would flourish and grow tenfold. But the cautious, suspicious virtue of justice would never even be imagined. Why divide goods when everyone already has more than enough? Why create property when no one could possibly suffer harm? Why call an object MINE when, if someone takes it, I need only reach out for something equally valuable? In that case, justice would be completely useless, an empty ceremony. It could never have a place among the virtues.

We see, even in the present necessitous condition of mankind, that, wherever any benefit is bestowed by nature in an unlimited abundance, we leave it always in common among the whole human race, and make no subdivisions of right and property. Water and air, though the most necessary of all objects, are not challenged as the property of individuals; nor can any man commit injustice by the most lavish use and enjoyment of these blessings. In fertile extensive countries, with few inhabitants, land is regarded on the same footing. And no topic is so much insisted on by those, who defend the liberty of the seas, as the unexhausted use of them in navigation. Were the advantages, procured by navigation, as inexhaustible, these reasoners had never had any adversaries to refute; nor had any claims ever been advanced of a separate, exclusive dominion over the ocean.

Even in humanity’s present condition of scarcity, we see that nature provides some benefits in unlimited abundance. Wherever it does, we leave those benefits common to the whole human race, without dividing them into individual rights or property. Water and air, though the most necessary things of all, are not claimed as individual property. Nor can anyone commit an injustice by using and enjoying them as lavishly as they please. In large, fertile countries with few inhabitants, land is treated in the same way. Those who defend the freedom of the seas emphasize above all that navigation cannot exhaust them. If the benefits gained from navigation were equally inexhaustible, these advocates would never have had any opponents to refute. Nor would anyone ever have claimed separate, exclusive control over the ocean.

It may happen, in some countries, at some periods, that there be established a property in water, none in land⁵; if the latter be in greater abundance than can be used by the inhabitants, and the former be found, with difficulty, and in very small quantities.

In some countries, at some times, people may establish property rights in water but not in land⁵. This may happen if there is more land than the inhabitants can use, while water is hard to find and exists in very small quantities.

Again; suppose, that, though the necessities of human race continue the same as at present, yet the mind is so enlarged, and so replete with friendship and generosity, that every man has the utmost tenderness for every man, and feels no more concern for his own interest than for that of his fellows; it seems evident, that the use of justice would, in this case, be suspended by such an extensive benevolence, nor would the divisions and barriers of property and obligation have ever been thought of. Why should I bind another, by a deed or promise, to do me any good office, when I know that he is already prompted, by the strongest inclination, to seek my happiness, and would, of himself, perform the desired service; except the hurt, he thereby receives, be greater than the benefit accruing to me? in which case, he knows, that, from my innate humanity and friendship, I should be the first to oppose myself to his imprudent generosity. Why raise landmarks between my neighbour's field and mine, when my heart has made no division between our interests; but shares all his joys and sorrows with the same force and vivacity as if originally my own? Every man, upon this supposition, being a second self to another, would trust all his interests to the discretion of every man; without jealousy, without partition, without distinction. And the whole human race would form only one family; where all would lie in common, and be used freely, without regard to property; but cautiously too, with as entire regard to the necessities of each individual, as if our own interests were most intimately concerned.

Again, suppose that human needs remain as they are now. But suppose that everyone’s mind is so full of friendship and generosity that everyone cares deeply for everyone else. No one cares more about their own interests than about those of others. It seems clear that such widespread goodwill would make justice unnecessary. People would never have thought of the divisions and barriers created by property and obligation. Why should I use a contract or promise to bind someone to do me a favor? I know that he already has the strongest desire to make me happy. He would perform the service on his own, unless the harm to him would outweigh the benefit to me. In that case, he knows that my own humanity and friendship would make me the first to oppose his unwise generosity. Why mark the boundary between my neighbor’s field and mine when my heart makes no division between our interests? I share all his joys and sorrows as keenly and vividly as if they were my own. In these circumstances, every person would be like a second self to everyone else. Each would trust all their interests to everyone else’s judgment, without suspicion, division, or distinction. The whole human race would form a single family. Everything would be held in common and used freely, without regard to ownership. But everything would also be used carefully, with full regard for each person’s needs, as if our own interests were most directly involved.

In the present disposition of the human heart, it would, perhaps, be difficult to find complete instances of such enlarged affections; but still we may observe, that the case of families approaches towards it; and the stronger the mutual benevolence is among the individuals, the nearer it approaches; till all distinction of property be, in a great measure, lost and confounded among them. Between married persons, the cement of friendship is by the laws supposed so strong as to abolish all division of possessions; and has often, in reality, the force ascribed to it. And it is observable, that, during the ardour of new enthusiasms, when every principle is inflamed into extravagance, the community of goods has frequently been attempted; and nothing but experience of its inconveniencies, from the returning or disguised selfishness of men, could make the imprudent fanatics adopt anew the ideas of justice and of separate property. So true is it, that this virtue derives its existence entirely from its necessary USE to the intercourse and social state of mankind.

Given the present state of the human heart, perhaps we would struggle to find complete examples of such broad affection. But families come close. The stronger the mutual goodwill among family members, the closer they come. Eventually, distinctions of property among them are largely lost and blurred. The law assumes that the bond of friendship between married people is strong enough to eliminate any division of possessions. Often, it really does have that strength. We can also observe that, in the first fervor of new enthusiasms, every principle is carried to extremes. In such times, people have often tried to hold goods in common. Only their experience of the problems caused by people's returning or disguised selfishness could make these imprudent fanatics adopt the ideas of justice and separate property again. So true is it that this virtue exists entirely because it is necessary to human interaction and social life.

To make this truth more evident, let us reverse the foregoing suppositions; and carrying everything to the opposite extreme, consider what would be the effect of these new situations. Suppose a society to fall into such want of all common necessaries, that the utmost frugality and industry cannot preserve the greater number from perishing, and the whole from extreme misery; it will readily, I believe, be admitted, that the strict laws of justice are suspended, in such a pressing emergence, and give place to the stronger motives of necessity and self-preservation. Is it any crime, after a shipwreck, to seize whatever means or instrument of safety one can lay hold of, without regard to former limitations of property? Or if a city besieged were perishing with hunger; can we imagine, that men will see any means of preservation before them, and lose their lives, from a scrupulous regard to what, in other situations, would be the rules of equity and justice? The use and tendency of that virtue is to procure happiness and security, by preserving order in society: but where the society is ready to perish from extreme necessity, no greater evil can be dreaded from violence and injustice; and every man may now provide for himself by all the means, which prudence can dictate, or humanity permit. The public, even in less urgent necessities, opens granaries, without the consent of proprietors; as justly supposing, that the authority of magistracy may, consistent with equity, extend so far: but were any number of men to assemble, without the tie of laws or civil jurisdiction; would an equal partition of bread in a famine, though effected by power and even violence, be regarded as criminal or injurious?

To make this truth clearer, let us reverse the earlier assumptions and take everything to the opposite extreme. Let us consider the effects of these new situations. Suppose a society lacks all basic necessities. Even with the greatest thrift and hard work, most people cannot be saved from death, nor anyone from extreme misery. I believe it will readily be admitted that, in such an urgent crisis, the strict laws of justice are suspended. They give way to the stronger motives of necessity and self-preservation. After a shipwreck, is it a crime to seize any means of survival one can find, regardless of previous property rights? Or suppose a besieged city is starving. Can we imagine that people would see a means of survival before them, yet let themselves die? Would they do so out of scrupulous respect for rules of fairness and justice that apply in other situations? Justice serves to secure happiness and safety by preserving order in society. But when a society is about to perish from extreme need, violence and injustice can bring no greater evil. In such a case, everyone may provide for themselves by any means that prudence suggests or humanity permits. Even in less urgent circumstances, public authorities open granaries without the owners' consent. They rightly assume that the authority of public officials may go that far without violating fairness. But suppose a number of people gathered without being bound by laws or civil authority. During a famine, would it be considered criminal or harmful to divide bread equally, even by force and violence?

Suppose likewise, that it should be a virtuous man's fate to fall into the society of ruffians, remote from the protection of laws and government; what conduct must he embrace in that melancholy situation? He sees such a desperate rapaciousness prevail; such a disregard to equity, such contempt of order, such stupid blindness to future consequences, as must immediately have the most tragical conclusion, and must terminate in destruction to the greater number, and in a total dissolution of society to the rest. He, meanwhile, can have no other expedient than to arm himself, to whomever the sword he seizes, or the buckler, may belong: To make provision of all means of defence and security: And his particular regard to justice being no longer of use to his own safety or that of others, he must consult the dictates of self-preservation alone, without concern for those who no longer merit his care and attention.

Suppose, too, that a virtuous man finds himself among ruffians, far from the protection of laws and government. How must he conduct himself in that grim situation? He sees desperate greed, disregard for fairness, contempt for order, and a stupid blindness to future consequences. These must soon lead to a tragic end. Most will be destroyed, and society will completely break down for the rest. Meanwhile, he has no choice but to arm himself, no matter who owns the sword or shield he takes. He must secure every means of defense and protection. His regard for justice is no longer useful for his own safety or that of others. He must therefore follow the demands of self-preservation alone, without concern for those who no longer deserve his care and attention.

When any man, even in political society, renders himself by his crimes, obnoxious to the public, he is punished by the laws in his goods and person; that is, the ordinary rules of justice are, with regard to him, suspended for a moment, and it becomes equitable to inflict on him, for the BENEFIT of society, what otherwise he could not suffer without wrong or injury.

When anyone, even in an organized society, commits crimes that make them a threat to the public, the law punishes them. It may punish them by taking their property or harming their person. In other words, the ordinary rules of justice are briefly suspended for that person. For the BENEFIT of society, it becomes fair to inflict punishment that would otherwise be a wrong or injury.

The rage and violence of public war; what is it but a suspension of justice among the warring parties, who perceive, that this virtue is now no longer of any USE or advantage to them? The laws of war, which then succeed to those of equity and justice, are rules calculated for the ADVANTAGE and UTILITY of that particular state, in which men are now placed. And were a civilized nation engaged with barbarians, who observed no rules even of war, the former must also suspend their observance of them, where they no longer serve to any purpose; and must render every action or recounter as bloody and pernicious as possible to the first aggressors.

What is the rage and violence of war between nations, if not a suspension of justice among the warring parties? They see that justice is no longer useful or advantageous to them. The laws of war then replace the laws of fairness and justice. These rules are designed to benefit people in the particular situation they now face. Suppose a civilized nation were at war with barbarians who observed no rules of war. The civilized nation would also have to stop following those rules when they no longer served any purpose. It would have to make every action or encounter as bloody and harmful as possible for the original aggressors.

Thus, the rules of equity or justice depend entirely on the particular state and condition in which men are placed, and owe their origin and existence to that utility, which results to the public from their strict and regular observance. Reverse, in any considerable circumstance, the condition of men: Produce extreme abundance or extreme necessity: Implant in the human breast perfect moderation and humanity, or perfect rapaciousness and malice: By rendering justice totally USELESS, you thereby totally destroy its essence, and suspend its obligation upon mankind. The common situation of society is a medium amidst all these extremes. We are naturally partial to ourselves, and to our friends; but are capable of learning the advantage resulting from a more equitable conduct. Few enjoyments are given us from the open and liberal hand of nature; but by art, labour, and industry, we can extract them in great abundance. Hence the ideas of property become necessary in all civil society: Hence justice derives its usefulness to the public: And hence alone arises its merit and moral obligation.

The rules of fairness or justice depend entirely on the particular circumstances in which people live. These rules arise and exist because the public benefits when people follow them strictly and consistently. Imagine a major change in human circumstances: extreme abundance or extreme need. Or imagine that people become perfectly moderate and humane, or perfectly greedy and malicious. By making justice completely useless, any of these changes would destroy its very nature and end its obligation on humanity. Society normally lies somewhere between all these extremes. We naturally favor ourselves and our friends, but we can learn the benefits of fairer conduct. Nature gives us few things to enjoy freely and generously. But through skill, labor, and industry, we can obtain them in great abundance. This is why ideas of property are necessary in all civil society. This is also why justice is useful to the public. And this alone is the source of its merit and moral obligation.

These conclusions are so natural and obvious, that they have not escaped even the poets, in their descriptions of the felicity attending the golden age or the reign of Saturn. The seasons, in that first period of nature, were so temperate, if we credit these agreeable fictions, that there was no necessity for men to provide themselves with clothes and houses, as a security against the violence of heat and cold: The rivers flowed with wine and milk: The oaks yielded honey; and nature spontaneously produced her greatest delicacies. Nor were these the chief advantages of that happy age. Tempests were not alone removed from nature; but those more furious tempests were unknown to human breasts, which now cause such uproar, and engender such confusion. Avarice, ambition, cruelty, selfishness, were never heard of: Cordial affection, compassion, sympathy, were the only movements with which the mind was yet acquainted. Even the punctilious distinction of MINE and THINE was banished from among the happy race of mortals, and carried with it the very notion of property and obligation, justice and injustice.

These conclusions are so natural and obvious that even poets have noticed them. They appear in descriptions of the happiness of the golden age, or the reign of Saturn. If we believe these pleasant fictions, the seasons were very mild in that first period of nature. People did not need clothes or houses to protect them from extreme heat and cold. The rivers flowed with wine and milk. Oaks produced honey, and nature provided its greatest delicacies without human effort. But these were not the chief advantages of that happy age. Storms were absent from nature, but even fiercer storms were also unknown in human hearts. Today, those inner storms cause such uproar and confusion. Greed, ambition, cruelty, and selfishness were unheard of. Warm affection, compassion, and sympathy were the only feelings people had yet known. Even the careful distinction between MINE and THINE was absent from that happy race of mortals. With it went the very idea of property and obligation, of justice and injustice.

This POETICAL fiction of the GOLDEN AGE, is in some respects, of a piece with the PHILOSOPHICAL fiction of the STATE OF NATURE; only that the former is represented as the most charming and most peaceable condition, which can possibly be imagined; whereas the latter is painted out as a state of mutual war and violence, attended with the most extreme necessity. On the first origin of mankind, we are told, their ignorance and savage nature were so prevalent, that they could give no mutual trust, but must each depend upon himself and his own force or cunning for protection and security. No law was heard of: No rule of justice known: No distinction of property regarded: Power was the only measure of right; and a perpetual war of all against all was the result of men's untamed selfishness and barbarity.⁶

The poetic fiction of the Golden Age is, in some respects, similar to the philosophical fiction of the state of nature. But the Golden Age is portrayed as the most charming and peaceful condition imaginable. The state of nature, by contrast, is portrayed as a state of mutual war and violence, accompanied by the most extreme hardship. We are told that, at the beginning of human history, people were so ignorant and savage that they could not trust one another. Each person had to rely on their own strength or cunning for protection and security. There were no laws, no known rules of justice, and no regard for property rights. Power alone determined what was right. The result of people’s untamed selfishness and barbarity was a perpetual war of all against all.⁶

Whether such a condition of human nature could ever exist, or if it did, could continue so long as to merit the appellation of a STATE, may justly be doubted. Men are necessarily born in a family-society, at least; and are trained up by their parents to some rule of conduct and behaviour. But this must be admitted, that, if such a state of mutual war and violence was ever real, the suspension of all laws of justice, from their absolute inutility, is a necessary and infallible consequence.

We may reasonably doubt whether such a condition of human nature could ever exist. Even if it did, we may doubt whether it could last long enough to deserve the name of a STATE. People are necessarily born into at least a family society. Their parents train them to follow some rules of conduct and behavior. But we must admit that, if such a state of mutual war and violence ever existed, all laws of justice would necessarily and surely be suspended, because they would be completely useless.

The more we vary our views of human life, and the newer and more unusual the lights are in which we survey it, the more shall we be convinced, that the origin here assigned for the virtue of justice is real and satisfactory.

The more varied, new, and unusual the perspectives from which we view human life, the more convinced we will be that the origin of justice given here is real and satisfactory.

Were there a species of creatures intermingled with men, which, though rational, were possessed of such inferior strength, both of body and mind, that they were incapable of all resistance, and could never, upon the highest provocation, make us feel the effects of their resentment; the necessary consequence, I think, is that we should be bound by the laws of humanity to give gentle usage to these creatures, but should not, properly speaking, lie under any restraint of justice with regard to them, nor could they possess any right or property, exclusive of such arbitrary lords. Our intercourse with them could not be called society, which supposes a degree of equality; but absolute command on the one side, and servile obedience on the other. Whatever we covet, they must instantly resign: Our permission is the only tenure, by which they hold their possessions: Our compassion and kindness the only check, by which they curb our lawless will: And as no inconvenience ever results from the exercise of a power, so firmly established in nature, the restraints of justice and property, being totally USELESS, would never have place in so unequal a confederacy.

Suppose a species of creatures lived among humans. Though rational, these creatures would be so much weaker in body and mind that they could not resist us at all. Even if severely provoked, they could never make us feel the effects of their resentment. I think the necessary consequence would be that humanity required us to treat them gently. But justice, strictly speaking, would not restrain our treatment of them. Nor could they have any rights or property that excluded their arbitrary masters. Our dealings with them could not be called society, which assumes some degree of equality. Instead, we would have absolute command, and they would be reduced to servile obedience. They would have to give up immediately whatever we wanted. They would hold their possessions only with our permission. Our compassion and kindness would be the only checks on our lawless will. And exercising such power, so firmly established in nature, would never cause us any inconvenience. So the restraints of justice and property would be completely USELESS and would never arise in such an unequal association.

This is plainly the situation of men, with regard to animals; and how far these may be said to possess reason, I leave it to others to determine. The great superiority of civilized Europeans above barbarous Indians, tempted us to imagine ourselves on the same footing with regard to them, and made us throw off all restraints of justice, and even of humanity, in our treatment of them. In many nations, the female sex are reduced to like slavery, and are rendered incapable of all property, in opposition to their lordly masters. But though the males, when united, have in all countries bodily force sufficient to maintain this severe tyranny, yet such are the insinuation, address, and charms of their fair companions, that women are commonly able to break the confederacy, and share with the other sex in all the rights and privileges of society.

This is plainly the position of humans in relation to animals. I leave it to others to decide how far animals can be said to possess reason. The great superiority of civilized Europeans over barbarous Indians tempted us to imagine that we held the same position toward them. As a result, we abandoned all restraints of justice, and even humanity, in our treatment of them. In many nations, women are reduced to similar slavery. They are unable to own any property against the claims of their lordly masters. Men united have enough physical strength in every country to maintain this harsh tyranny. But their fair companions have such powers of persuasion, skill, and charm that women can usually break the alliance among men. Women can then share all the rights and privileges of society with men.

Were the human species so framed by nature as that each individual possessed within himself every faculty, requisite both for his own preservation and for the propagation of his kind: Were all society and intercourse cut off between man and man, by the primary intention of the supreme Creator: It seems evident, that so solitary a being would be as much incapable of justice, as of social discourse and conversation. Where mutual regards and forbearance serve to no manner of purpose, they would never direct the conduct of any reasonable man. The headlong course of the passions would be checked by no reflection on future consequences. And as each man is here supposed to love himself alone, and to depend only on himself and his own activity for safety and happiness, he would, on every occasion, to the utmost of his power, challenge the preference above every other being, to none of which he is bound by any ties, either of nature or of interest. But suppose the conjunction of the sexes to be established in nature, a family immediately arises; and particular rules being found requisite for its subsistence, these are immediately embraced; though without comprehending the rest of mankind within their prescriptions. Suppose that several families unite together into one society, which is totally disjoined from all others, the rules, which preserve peace and order, enlarge themselves to the utmost extent of that society; but becoming then entirely useless, lose their force when carried one step farther. But again suppose, that several distinct societies maintain a kind of intercourse for mutual convenience and advantage, the boundaries of justice still grow larger, in proportion to the largeness of men's views, and the force of their mutual connexions. History, experience, reason sufficiently instruct us in this natural progress of human sentiments, and in the gradual enlargement of our regards to justice, in proportion as we become acquainted with the extensive utility of that virtue.

Suppose human beings were made by nature so that each person had every ability needed for survival and reproduction. And suppose the supreme Creator had originally intended to prevent all society and contact between people. Clearly, such a solitary being would be as incapable of justice as of social talk and conversation. Where mutual consideration and restraint serve no purpose, they would never guide a reasonable person’s conduct. Nothing would check the headlong course of the passions through reflection on future consequences. Each person is assumed to love only himself and to depend solely on his own efforts for safety and happiness. So on every occasion, he would claim priority over every other being, as far as his power allowed. He would be bound to none of them by ties of nature or interest. But suppose nature brings the sexes together. A family immediately arises, and the family immediately adopts whatever rules it finds necessary for its survival. These rules, however, do not include the rest of humanity. Now suppose several families unite in a single society, completely separate from all others. The rules that preserve peace and order extend throughout that society. But beyond its borders, these rules become entirely useless and lose their force. Suppose, again, that several distinct societies maintain some contact for their mutual convenience and advantage. The boundaries of justice expand further, in proportion to the breadth of people’s views and the strength of their mutual ties. History, experience, and reason sufficiently show us this natural development of human feelings. They show how our concern for justice gradually expands as we come to understand how widely useful that virtue is.

If we examine the PARTICULAR laws, by which justice is directed, and property determined; we shall still be presented with the same conclusion. The good of mankind is the only object of all these laws and regulations. Not only is it requisite, for the peace and interest of society, that men's possessions should be separated; but the rules, which we follow, in making the separation, are such as can best be contrived to serve farther the interests of society.

If we examine the particular laws that guide justice and determine property rights, we reach the same conclusion. The good of humanity is the only aim of all these laws and regulations. Dividing possessions among people is necessary for society’s peace and welfare. But the rules for dividing possessions are also designed to serve society’s interests as well as possible.

We shall suppose that a creature, possessed of reason, but unacquainted with human nature, deliberates with himself what rules of justice or property would best promote public interest, and establish peace and security among mankind: His most obvious thought would be, to assign the largest possessions to the most extensive virtue, and give every one the power of doing good, proportioned to his inclination. In a perfect theocracy, where a being, infinitely intelligent, governs by particular volitions, this rule would certainly have place, and might serve to the wisest purposes: But were mankind to execute such a law; so great is the uncertainty of merit, both from its natural obscurity, and from the self-conceit of each individual, that no determinate rule of conduct would ever result from it; and the total dissolution of society must be the immediate consequence. Fanatics may suppose, THAT DOMINION IS FOUNDED ON GRACE, and THAT SAINTS ALONE INHERIT THE EARTH; but the civil magistrate very justly puts these sublime theorists on the same footing with common robbers, and teaches them by the severest discipline, that a rule, which, in speculation, may seem the most advantageous to society, may yet be found, in practice, totally pernicious and destructive.

Suppose a rational creature, unfamiliar with human nature, considers what rules of justice or property would best serve the public interest. These rules must also establish peace and security among people. The most obvious thought would be to give the greatest possessions to those with the greatest virtue. Each person would then have the power to do good in proportion to their desire to do it. In a perfect theocracy, an infinitely intelligent being governs through specific acts of will. Such a rule would certainly apply there and could serve the wisest purposes. But suppose people had to enforce such a law. Merit is so uncertain, both because it is naturally hard to discern and because each person has an inflated opinion of themselves, that no clear rule of conduct could ever result. The immediate consequence would be the complete dissolution of society. Fanatics may suppose THAT DOMINION IS FOUNDED ON GRACE, and THAT SAINTS ALONE INHERIT THE EARTH. But the civil magistrate rightly treats these lofty theorists like common robbers. Through the harshest punishment, the magistrate teaches them a lesson. A rule that seems most beneficial to society in theory may prove utterly harmful and destructive in practice.

That there were RELIGIOUS fanatics of this kind in England, during the civil wars, we learn from history; though it is probable, that the obvious TENDENCY of these principles excited such horror in mankind, as soon obliged the dangerous enthusiasts to renounce, or at least conceal their tenets. Perhaps the LEVELLERS, who claimed an equal distribution of property, were a kind of POLITICAL fanatics, which arose from the religious species, and more openly avowed their pretensions; as carrying a more plausible appearance, of being practicable in themselves, as well as useful to human society. It must, indeed, be confessed, that nature is so liberal to mankind, that, were all her presents equally divided among the species, and improved by art and industry, every individual would enjoy all the necessaries, and even most of the comforts of life; nor would ever be liable to any ills but such as might accidentally arise from the sickly frame and constitution of his body. It must also be confessed, that, wherever we depart from this equality, we rob the poor of more satisfaction than we add to the rich, and that the slight gratification of a frivolous vanity, in one individual, frequently costs more than bread to many families, and even provinces. It may appear withal, that the rule of equality, as it would be highly USEFUL, is not altogether IMPRACTICABLE; but has taken place, at least in an imperfect degree, in some republics; particularly that of Sparta; where it was attended, it is said, with the most beneficial consequences. Not to mention that the Agrarian laws, so frequently claimed in Rome, and carried into execution in many Greek cities, proceeded, all of them, from a general idea of the utility of this principle.

History tells us that religious fanatics of this kind existed in England during the civil wars. But the obvious consequences of their principles probably horrified people so much that these dangerous enthusiasts soon had to abandon or at least conceal their beliefs. Perhaps the Levellers, who demanded an equal distribution of property, were a kind of political fanatic that grew out of the religious kind. The Levellers stated their demands more openly, since those demands seemed more plausible, both as practical measures and as beneficial to society. We must admit that nature is so generous to humanity that everyone could enjoy all the necessities and even most of the comforts of life. This would be possible if nature's gifts were divided equally among everyone and improved through skill and work. No one would then be subject to any suffering except what might happen to arise from illness or bodily weakness. We must also admit that whenever we depart from this equality, we take more satisfaction from the poor than we give to the rich. The slight pleasure one person gets from frivolous vanity often costs more than enough bread to feed many families, and even provinces. Equal distribution would be highly useful, and it may also appear not to be altogether impractical. It has been established, at least imperfectly, in some republics, especially Sparta. There, equal distribution is said to have had the most beneficial consequences. The Agrarian laws, so often demanded in Rome and put into effect in many Greek cities, also all arose from a general belief in the usefulness of this principle.

But historians, and even common sense, may inform us, that, however specious these ideas of PERFECT equality may seem, they are really, at bottom, IMPRACTICABLE; and were they not so, would be extremely PERNICIOUS to human society. Render possessions ever so equal, men's different degrees of art, care, and industry will immediately break that equality. Or if you check these virtues, you reduce society to the most extreme indigence; and instead of preventing want and beggary in a few, render it unavoidable to the whole community. The most rigorous inquisition too is requisite to watch every inequality on its first appearance; and the most severe jurisdiction, to punish and redress it. But besides, that so much authority must soon degenerate into tyranny, and be exerted with great partialities; who can possibly be possessed of it, in such a situation as is here supposed? Perfect equality of possessions, destroying all subordination, weakens extremely the authority of magistracy, and must reduce all power nearly to a level, as well as property.

But history and even common sense can tell us that, however appealing PERFECT equality may seem, it is fundamentally IMPRACTICABLE. And even if it were practicable, it would be extremely HARMFUL to human society. No matter how equally possessions are distributed, differences in people's skill, care, and hard work will immediately destroy that equality. But if you suppress these virtues, you reduce society to extreme poverty. Instead of preventing deprivation and begging among a few people, you make them unavoidable for the whole community. Strict surveillance would also be needed to detect every inequality as soon as it appeared. And harsh laws and courts would be needed to punish and correct each inequality. But such extensive authority would soon degenerate into tyranny and be exercised with great favoritism. Besides, who could possibly hold such authority under the conditions imagined here? Perfect equality of possessions destroys all hierarchy, greatly weakening the authority of public officials. It must bring all power, like property, nearly to the same level.

We may conclude, therefore, that, in order to establish laws for the regulation of property, we must be acquainted with the nature and situation of man; must reject appearances, which may be false, though specious; and must search for those rules, which are, on the whole, most USEFUL and BENEFICIAL. Vulgar sense and slight experience are sufficient for this purpose; where men give not way to too selfish avidity, or too extensive enthusiasm.

We may therefore conclude that, to establish laws governing property, we must understand human nature and circumstances. We must reject appearances that may be false, however plausible they seem. We must also look for the rules that are, overall, most USEFUL and BENEFICIAL. Ordinary common sense and a little experience are enough for this purpose, provided people do not give in to excessive selfish greed or overly broad enthusiasm.

Who sees not, for instance, that whatever is produced or improved by a man's art or industry ought, for ever, to be secured to him, in order to give encouragement to such USEFUL habits and accomplishments? That the property ought also to descend to children and relations, for the same USEFUL purpose? That it may be alienated by consent, in order to beget that commerce and intercourse, which is so BENEFICIAL to human society? And that all contracts and promises ought carefully to be fulfilled, in order to secure mutual trust and confidence, by which the general INTEREST of mankind is so much promoted?

Who does not see, for example, that whatever a man produces or improves through his skill or labor should remain his forever? This encourages such USEFUL habits and skills. For the same USEFUL purpose, his property should also pass to his children and relatives. It may also be transferred by consent, to encourage trade and exchange, which are so BENEFICIAL to human society. And all contracts and promises should be carefully fulfilled to secure mutual trust and confidence. Such trust and confidence greatly promote the general INTEREST of mankind.

Examine the writers on the laws of nature; and you will always find, that, whatever principles they set out with, they are sure to terminate here at last, and to assign, as the ultimate reason for every rule which they establish, the convenience and necessities of mankind. A concession thus extorted, in opposition to systems, has more authority than if it had been made in prosecution of them.

Examine the writers on the laws of nature. Whatever principles they begin with, you will always find that they end up in the same place. They give the needs and practical interests of humankind as the ultimate reason for every rule they establish. This concession carries more weight because their arguments force them to make it, despite their theories. It would carry less weight if they made it in support of those theories.

What other reason, indeed, could writers ever give, why this must be MINE and that YOURS; since uninstructed nature surely never made any such distinction? The objects which receive those appellations are, of themselves, foreign to us; they are totally disjoined and separated from us; and nothing but the general interests of society can form the connexion.

What other reason could writers give for saying that this must be MINE and that YOURS? Surely nature, left to itself, never made such a distinction. The objects called mine or yours are, in themselves, separate from us. They are entirely detached and apart from us. Only the general interests of society can create the connection.

Sometimes the interests of society may require a rule of justice in a particular case; but may not determine any particular rule, among several, which are all equally beneficial. In that case, the slightest analogies are laid hold of, in order to prevent that indifference and ambiguity, which would be the source of perpetual dissension. Thus possession alone, and first possession, is supposed to convey property, where no body else has any preceding claim and pretension. Many of the reasonings of lawyers are of this analogical nature, and depend on very slight connexions of the imagination.

Sometimes society’s interests may require a rule of justice in a particular case. But those interests may not determine which rule to choose from several equally beneficial ones. In that case, people seize on even the slightest similarities to make a choice. Otherwise, uncertainty about which rule to choose would be a source of endless disagreement. Thus, mere possession, especially first possession, is thought to establish ownership when no one else has an earlier claim. Much of lawyers’ reasoning relies on such analogies and on very slight connections in the imagination.

Does any one scruple, in extraordinary cases, to violate all regard to the private property of individuals, and sacrifice to public interest a distinction which had been established for the sake of that interest? The safety of the people is the supreme law: All other particular laws are subordinate to it, and dependent on it: And if, in the COMMON course of things, they be followed and regarded; it is only because the public safety and interest COMMONLY demand so equal and impartial an administration.

In extraordinary cases, does anyone hesitate to disregard individuals’ private property rights altogether? Does anyone hesitate to sacrifice this distinction to the public interest, when it was established for that very interest? The safety of the people is the supreme law. All other specific laws are subordinate to it and depend on it. If these laws are followed and respected in the COMMON course of things, it is only because public safety and interest COMMONLY demand such equal and impartial enforcement.

Sometimes both UTILITY and ANALOGY fail, and leave the laws of justice in total uncertainty. Thus, it is highly requisite, that prescription or long possession should convey property; but what number of days or months or years should be sufficient for that purpose, it is impossible for reason alone to determine. CIVIL LAWS here supply the place of the natural CODE, and assign different terms for prescription, according to the different UTILITIES, proposed by the legislator. Bills of exchange and promissory notes, by the laws of most countries, prescribe sooner than bonds, and mortgages, and contracts of a more formal nature.

Sometimes both usefulness and analogy fail, leaving the rules of justice completely uncertain. For example, it is very important that long possession should confer ownership through prescription. But reason alone cannot determine how many days, months, or years of possession should be enough. Civil laws take the place of natural law here. They set different periods for prescription according to the different benefits the lawmaker seeks. In most countries, bills of exchange and promissory notes expire under prescription sooner than bonds, mortgages, and more formal contracts.

In general we may observe that all questions of property are subordinate to the authority of civil laws, which extend, restrain, modify, and alter the rules of natural justice, according to the particular CONVENIENCE of each community. The laws have, or ought to have, a constant reference to the constitution of government, the manners, the climate, the religion, the commerce, the situation of each society. A late author of genius, as well as learning, has prosecuted this subject at large, and has established, from these principles, a system of political knowledge, which abounds in ingenious and brilliant thoughts, and is not wanting in solidity.⁷

In general, we may observe that all questions of property are subject to the authority of civil laws. These laws extend, limit, modify, and change the rules of natural justice according to the particular needs of each community. Laws do, or ought to, take constant account of each society’s form of government, customs, climate, religion, commerce, and circumstances. A recent author of genius and learning has explored this subject at length. From these principles, he has developed a system of political knowledge. It is full of clever and brilliant ideas, and it is also solid.⁷

WHAT IS A MAN'S PROPERTY? Anything which it is lawful for him, and for him alone, to use. BUT WHAT RULE HAVE WE, BY WHICH WE CAN DISTINGUISH THESE OBJECTS? Here we must have recourse to statutes, customs, precedents, analogies, and a hundred other circumstances; some of which are constant and inflexible, some variable and arbitrary. But the ultimate point, in which they all professedly terminate, is the interest and happiness of human society. Where this enters not into consideration, nothing can appear more whimsical, unnatural, and even superstitious, than all or most of the laws of justice and of property.

WHAT IS A PERSON'S PROPERTY? Anything that only that person has the legal right to use. BUT HOW CAN WE TELL WHAT THOSE THINGS ARE? We must turn to laws, customs, precedents, analogies, and a hundred other circumstances. Some of these are fixed and unbending. Others are changeable and arbitrary. But all of them claim to serve the same ultimate goal: the well-being and happiness of human society. When that goal is not considered, all or most laws of justice and property can seem utterly whimsical, unnatural, and even superstitious.

Those who ridicule vulgar superstitions, and expose the folly of particular regards to meats, days, places, postures, apparel, have an easy task; while they consider all the qualities and relations of the objects, and discover no adequate cause for that affection or antipathy, veneration or horror, which have so mighty an influence over a considerable part of mankind. A Syrian would have starved rather than taste pigeon; an Egyptian would not have approached bacon: But if these species of food be examined by the senses of sight, smell, or taste, or scrutinized by the sciences of chemistry, medicine, or physics, no difference is ever found between them and any other species, nor can that precise circumstance be pitched on, which may afford a just foundation for the religious passion. A fowl on Thursday is lawful food; on Friday abominable: Eggs in this house and in this diocese, are permitted during Lent; a hundred paces farther, to eat them is a damnable sin. This earth or building, yesterday was profane; to-day, by the muttering of certain words, it has become holy and sacred. Such reflections as these, in the mouth of a philosopher, one may safely say, are too obvious to have any influence; because they must always, to every man, occur at first sight; and where they prevail not, of themselves, they are surely obstructed by education, prejudice, and passion, not by ignorance or mistake.

Those who ridicule common superstitions have an easy task. They expose the folly of treating certain foods, days, places, postures, and clothes as special. They consider all the qualities and relationships of these things. Yet they find no adequate cause for the love or aversion, reverence or horror, that so strongly influences a considerable part of humanity. A Syrian would have starved rather than taste pigeon. An Egyptian would not have gone near bacon. But if these foods are examined by sight, smell, or taste, or studied through chemistry, medicine, or physics, no difference is ever found between them and any other foods. Nor can any precise feature be identified that would provide a sound basis for such religious feeling. A fowl is lawful food on Thursday but abominable on Friday. Eggs are permitted during Lent in this house and in this diocese. Yet a hundred paces farther on, eating them is a sin worthy of damnation. Yesterday, this ground or building was not sacred. Today, after certain words have been muttered, it has become holy and sacred. One may safely say that such observations, when made by a philosopher, are too obvious to have any influence. They must always occur to everyone at first sight. When these observations do not prevail on their own, they are surely blocked by upbringing, prejudice, and passion, not by ignorance or error.

It may appear to a careless view, or rather a too abstracted reflection, that there enters a like superstition into all the sentiments of justice; and that, if a man expose its object, or what we call property, to the same scrutiny of sense and science, he will not, by the most accurate enquiry, find any foundation for the difference made by moral sentiment. I may lawfully nourish myself from this tree; but the fruit of another of the same species, ten paces off, it is criminal for me to touch. Had I worn this apparel an hour ago, I had merited the severest punishment; but a man, by pronouncing a few magical syllables, has now rendered it fit for my use and service. Were this house placed in the neighbouring territory, it had been immoral for me to dwell in it; but being built on this side the river, it is subject to a different municipal law, and by its becoming mine I incur no blame or censure. The same species of reasoning it may be thought, which so successfully exposes superstition, is also applicable to justice; nor is it possible, in the one case more than in the other, to point out, in the object, that precise quality or circumstance, which is the foundation of the sentiment.

A careless glance, or rather an overly abstract reflection, may suggest that the same superstition enters into all feelings of justice. Someone might examine their object, what we call property, using the same scrutiny of sense and science. Even the most careful inquiry, it might seem, would find no basis for the distinction made by moral feeling. I may lawfully feed myself from this tree. But it is a crime for me to touch the fruit of another tree of the same species, ten paces away. Had I worn these clothes an hour ago, I would have deserved the harshest punishment. But a man has now spoken a few magical syllables and made the clothes fit for my use and service. If this house stood in the neighboring territory, it would have been immoral for me to live in it. But it was built on this side of the river and is subject to a different local law. Now that it has become mine, I incur no blame or criticism by living in it. It might be thought that the same reasoning that so successfully exposes superstition also applies to justice. In neither case, it might seem, can we point to the precise quality or circumstance in the object that gives rise to the feeling.

But there is this material difference between SUPERSTITION and JUSTICE, that the former is frivolous, useless, and burdensome; the latter is absolutely requisite to the well-being of mankind and existence of society. When we abstract from this circumstance (for it is too apparent ever to be overlooked) it must be confessed, that all regards to right and property, seem entirely without foundation, as much as the grossest and most vulgar superstition. Were the interests of society nowise concerned, it is as unintelligible why another's articulating certain sounds implying consent, should change the nature of my actions with regard to a particular object, as why the reciting of a liturgy by a priest, in a certain habit and posture, should dedicate a heap of brick and timber, and render it, thenceforth and for ever, sacred.⁸

But there is an important difference between SUPERSTITION and JUSTICE. Superstition is trivial, useless, and burdensome. Justice is absolutely necessary for human well-being and the existence of society. Let us set this difference aside, though it is too obvious ever to be overlooked. We must then admit that all concern for rights and property seems entirely without foundation, just like the crudest and most common superstition. If the interests of society were not involved at all, consider why another person's words of consent should change the nature of my actions toward a particular object. This would be just as hard to understand as why a priest reciting a liturgy, in a particular outfit and posture, should dedicate a heap of brick and timber and make it sacred from then on and forever.⁸

These reflections are far from weakening the obligations of justice, or diminishing anything from the most sacred attention to property. On the contrary, such sentiments must acquire new force from the present reasoning. For what stronger foundation can be desired or conceived for any duty, than to observe, that human society, or even human nature, could not subsist without the establishment of it; and will still arrive at greater degrees of happiness and perfection, the more inviolable the regard is, which is paid to that duty?

These reflections do not weaken the obligations of justice or lessen the utmost respect due to property. On the contrary, this reasoning must give such principles new force. What stronger foundation could we want or imagine for any duty? Human society, or even human nature, could not survive without that duty. And the more faithfully that duty is observed, the happier and more perfect human society and human nature will become.

The dilemma seems obvious: As justice evidently tends to promote public utility and to support civil society, the sentiment of justice is either derived from our reflecting on that tendency, or like hunger, thirst, and other appetites, resentment, love of life, attachment to offspring, and other passions, arises from a simple original instinct in the human breast, which nature has implanted for like salutary purposes. If the latter be the case, it follows, that property, which is the object of justice, is also distinguished by a simple original instinct, and is not ascertained by any argument or reflection. But who is there that ever heard of such an instinct? Or is this a subject in which new discoveries can be made? We may as well expect to discover, in the body, new senses, which had before escaped the observation of all mankind.

The dilemma seems obvious. Justice clearly promotes public welfare and supports civil society. Our sense of justice either comes from reflecting on that tendency, or it arises from a basic instinct. Nature would have given us this instinct for the same beneficial purposes as other instincts. These include hunger, thirst, and other appetites, as well as resentment, love of life, attachment to our children, and other passions. If our sense of justice comes from instinct, then we also distinguish property by a basic instinct. After all, property is the object of justice. We would not determine what counts as property through reasoning or reflection. But who has ever heard of such an instinct? And is this a subject in which new discoveries can be made? We might as well expect to discover new bodily senses that have escaped the notice of all humanity.

But farther, though it seems a very simple proposition to say, that nature, by an instinctive sentiment, distinguishes property, yet in reality we shall find, that there are required for that purpose ten thousand different instincts, and these employed about objects of the greatest intricacy and nicest discernment. For when a definition of PROPERTY is required, that relation is found to resolve itself into any possession acquired by occupation, by industry, by prescription, by inheritance, by contract, &c. Can we think that nature, by an original instinct, instructs us in all these methods of acquisition?

But there is another point. It seems very simple to say that nature distinguishes property through an instinctive feeling. Yet we will find that this would require ten thousand different instincts. These instincts would have to deal with matters of the greatest complexity, requiring the finest judgment. For when we try to define PROPERTY, we find that it means possession acquired in any of several ways. These include occupation, work, long-standing possession, inheritance, contract, and so on. Can we think that nature, through an innate instinct, teaches us all these ways of acquiring property?

These words too, inheritance and contract, stand for ideas infinitely complicated; and to define them exactly, a hundred volumes of laws, and a thousand volumes of commentators, have not been found sufficient. Does nature, whose instincts in men are all simple, embrace such complicated and artificial objects, and create a rational creature, without trusting anything to the operation of his reason?

The words “inheritance” and “contract” also stand for infinitely complicated ideas. A hundred volumes of laws and a thousand volumes of commentary have not been enough to define them exactly. All the instincts nature gives human beings are simple. Does nature embrace such complicated and artificial things? Does nature create a rational being without leaving anything to the exercise of reason?

But even though all this were admitted, it would not be satisfactory. Positive laws can certainly transfer property. It is by another original instinct, that we recognize the authority of kings and senates, and mark all the boundaries of their jurisdiction? Judges too, even though their sentence be erroneous and illegal, must be allowed, for the sake of peace and order, to have decisive authority, and ultimately to determine property. Have we original innate ideas of praetors and chancellors and juries? Who sees not, that all these institutions arise merely from the necessities of human society?

But even if we granted all this, it would not be satisfactory. Human laws can certainly transfer property. Do we recognize the authority of kings and senates through another inborn instinct? Does that instinct also show us all the limits of their authority? Judges, too, must be allowed to have decisive authority and ultimately determine who owns property. This must be allowed for the sake of peace and order, even when their judgments are wrong and illegal. Are we born with ideas of praetors, chancellors, and juries? Who does not see that all these institutions arise simply from the needs of human society?

All birds of the same species in every age and country, built their nests alike: In this we see the force of instinct. Men, in different times and places, frame their houses differently: Here we perceive the influence of reason and custom. A like inference may be drawn from comparing the instinct of generation and the institution of property.

All birds of the same species build their nests alike, in every age and country. This shows the force of instinct. People build their houses differently in different times and places. This shows the influence of reason and custom. A similar conclusion may be drawn by comparing the instinct to reproduce with the institution of property.

How great soever the variety of municipal laws, it must be confessed, that their chief outlines pretty regularly concur; because the purposes, to which they tend, are everywhere exactly similar. In like manner, all houses have a roof and walls, windows and chimneys; though diversified in their shape, figure, and materials. The purposes of the latter, directed to the conveniencies of human life, discover not more plainly their origin from reason and reflection, than do those of the former, which point all to a like end.

However much laws vary from one society to another, their main features are fairly consistent. This is because they serve exactly the same purposes everywhere. Similarly, all houses have a roof and walls, windows and chimneys, though they vary in shape, form, and materials. Houses serve the practical needs of human life. These purposes show no more clearly that houses come from reason and reflection than the shared purposes of laws show the same about laws.

I need not mention the variations, which all the rules of property receive from the finer turns and connexions of the imagination, and from the subtilties and abstractions of law-topics and reasonings. There is no possibility of reconciling this observation to the notion of original instincts.

I need not mention how all the rules of property vary according to subtle turns and connections of the imagination. They also vary according to the subtleties and abstractions of legal arguments and reasoning. This observation cannot be reconciled with the idea of original instincts.

What alone will beget a doubt concerning the theory, on which I insist, is the influence of education and acquired habits, by which we are so accustomed to blame injustice, that we are not, in every instance, conscious of any immediate reflection on the pernicious consequences of it. The views the most familiar to us are apt, for that very reason, to escape us; and what we have very frequently performed from certain motives, we are apt likewise to continue mechanically, without recalling, on every occasion, the reflections, which first determined us. The convenience, or rather necessity, which leads to justice is so universal, and everywhere points so much to the same rules, that the habit takes place in all societies; and it is not without some scrutiny, that we are able to ascertain its true origin. The matter, however, is not so obscure, but that even in common life we have every moment recourse to the principle of public utility, and ask, WHAT MUST BECOME OF THE WORLD, IF SUCH PRACTICES PREVAIL? HOW COULD SOCIETY SUBSIST UNDER SUCH DISORDERS? Were the distinction or separation of possessions entirely useless, can any one conceive, that it ever should have obtained in society?

The only reason to doubt the theory I insist on is the influence of education and acquired habits. These make us so used to blaming injustice that we do not always consciously consider its harmful consequences. The ideas most familiar to us tend to escape our notice for that very reason. And when we have often acted for certain reasons, we tend to continue acting mechanically. We do so without recalling every time the considerations that first led us to act. The convenience, or rather necessity, that leads to justice is universal. It also points everywhere to much the same rules. As a result, the habit of justice arises in all societies. We can discover its true origin only by examining it closely. Yet the matter is not so obscure that we never appeal to public usefulness in everyday life. We do so constantly, asking, WHAT WILL BECOME OF THE WORLD IF SUCH PRACTICES PREVAIL? HOW COULD SOCIETY SURVIVE SUCH DISORDER? If distinguishing and separating possessions were entirely useless, can anyone imagine that the practice would ever have become established in society?

Thus we seem, upon the whole, to have attained a knowledge of the force of that principle here insisted on, and can determine what degree of esteem or moral approbation may result from reflections on public interest and utility. The necessity of justice to the support of society is the sole foundation of that virtue; and since no moral excellence is more highly esteemed, we may conclude that this circumstance of usefulness has, in general, the strongest energy, and most entire command over our sentiments. It must, therefore, be the source of a considerable part of the merit ascribed to humanity, benevolence, friendship, public spirit, and other social virtues of that stamp; as it is the sole source of the moral approbation paid to fidelity, justice, veracity, integrity, and those other estimable and useful qualities and principles. It is entirely agreeable to the rules of philosophy, and even of common reason; where any principle has been found to have a great force and energy in one instance, to ascribe to it a like energy in all similar instances. This indeed is Newton's chief rule of philosophizing⁹.

On the whole, then, we seem to understand the force of the principle emphasized here. We can determine how much esteem or moral approval may come from considering the public interest and usefulness. Justice is necessary to support society, and that necessity is the only foundation of justice as a virtue. No moral virtue is more highly esteemed. So we may conclude that usefulness generally has the greatest force and the strongest influence over our feelings. Usefulness must therefore be the source of a considerable part of the merit attributed to humanity, benevolence, friendship, public spirit, and similar social virtues. It is also the only source of the moral approval given to fidelity, justice, truthfulness, integrity, and other admirable and useful qualities and principles. Suppose a principle has proved very powerful in one case. It is entirely consistent with the rules of philosophy, and even with common sense, to attribute similar power to it in all similar cases. This is indeed Newton's chief rule of philosophizing⁹.