Censorship

As the law is the declaration of the general will, the censorship is the declaration of the public judgment: public opinion is the form of law which the censor administers, and, like the prince, only applies to particular cases.

Just as law expresses the general will, censorship expresses the public's judgment. Public opinion is the kind of law the censor administers. Like the prince, the censor applies that law only to specific cases.

The censorial tribunal, so far from being the arbiter of the people's opinion, only declares it, and, as soon as the two part company, its decisions are null and void.

The censorial tribunal does not determine the people's opinion. It only declares that opinion. As soon as the tribunal's decisions differ from the people's opinion, those decisions have no legal force.

It is useless to distinguish the morality of a nation from the objects of its esteem; both depend on the same principle and are necessarily indistinguishable. There is no people on earth the choice of whose pleasures is not decided by opinion rather than nature. Right men's opinions, and their morality will purge itself. Men always love what is good or what they find good; it is in judging what is good that they go wrong. This judgment, therefore, is what must be regulated. He who judges of morality judges of honour; and he who judges of honour finds his law in opinion.

There is no point separating a nation's morality from what it values. Both rest on the same principle and cannot be distinguished. For every people on earth, opinion rather than nature determines the pleasures they choose. Correct people's opinions, and their morality will correct itself. People always love what is good or what they believe is good. But they go wrong when judging what is good. So this judgment must be guided. Whoever judges morality also judges honor. And whoever judges honor takes opinion as the rule.

The opinions of a people are derived from its constitution; although the law does not regulate morality, it is legislation that gives it birth. When legislation grows weak, morality degenerates; but in such cases the judgment of the censors will not do what the force of the laws has failed to effect.

A people's opinions come from its constitution. Although the law does not regulate morality, legislation brings morality into being. When legislation grows weak, morality declines. But in such cases, the censors' judgment will not achieve what the force of law has failed to achieve.

From this it follows that the censorship may be useful for the preservation of morality, but can never be so for its restoration. Set up censors while the laws are vigorous; as soon as they have lost their vigour, all hope is gone; no legitimate power can retain force when the laws have lost it.

It follows that censorship may help preserve morality, but it can never restore it. Appoint censors while the laws are strong. As soon as the laws lose their strength, all hope is gone. No legitimate power can remain strong when the laws have lost their strength.

The censorship upholds morality by preventing opinion from growing corrupt, by preserving its rectitude by means of wise applications, and sometimes even by fixing it when it is still uncertain. The employment of seconds in duels, which had been carried to wild extremes in the kingdom of France, was done away with merely by these words in a royal edict: "As for those who are cowards enough to call upon seconds." This judgment, in anticipating that of the public, suddenly decided it. But when edicts from the same source tried to pronounce duelling itself an act of cowardice, as indeed it is, then, since common opinion does not regard it as such, the public took no notice of a decision on a point on which its mind was already made up.

Censorship upholds morality by preventing public opinion from becoming corrupt and keeping it sound through wise interventions. Sometimes censorship even settles public opinion when people are still unsure. In the kingdom of France, the use of seconds in duels had reached wild extremes. The practice ended simply through these words in a royal decree: "As for those who are cowardly enough to call on seconds." By judging the practice before the public did, the decree suddenly settled public opinion. But later decrees from the same authority tried to declare duelling itself an act of cowardice, as indeed it is. Since public opinion did not see duelling as cowardly, people ignored the ruling on a question already settled in their minds.

I have stated elsewhere¹ that as public opinion is not subject to any constraint, there need be no trace of it in the tribunal set up to represent it. It is impossible to admire too much the art with which this resource, which we moderns have wholly lost, was employed by the Romans, and still more by the Lacedæmonians.

I have said elsewhere¹ that public opinion cannot be forced. So there should be no trace of force in the tribunal set up to represent public opinion. We cannot admire enough the skill with which the Romans, and even more the Lacedæmonians, used this tool. We modern people have lost it entirely.

A man of bad morals having made a good proposal in the Spartan Council, the Ephors neglected it, and caused the same proposal to be made by a virtuous citizen. What an honour for the one, and what a disgrace for the other, without praise or blame of either! Certain drunkards from Samos² polluted the tribunal of the Ephors: the next day, a public edict gave Samians permission to be filthy. An actual punishment would not have been so severe as such an impunity. When Sparta has pronounced on what is or is not right, Greece makes no appeal from her judgments.

A man with bad morals made a good proposal in the Spartan Council. The Ephors ignored the proposal and had a virtuous citizen make the same proposal instead. What an honor for the virtuous citizen, and what a disgrace for the other man, without praising or blaming either! Some drunkards from Samos² fouled the tribunal of the Ephors. The next day, a public decree gave Samians permission to be filthy. An actual punishment would not have been as harsh as letting them go unpunished in this way. When Sparta declares what is right or wrong, Greece does not appeal against Sparta’s judgments.