COMMON SENSE.
Of the Origin and Deſign of Government in general, with conciſe Remarks on the English Constitution.
SOME writers have ſo confounded ſociety with government, as to leave little or no diſtinction between them; whereas they are not only different, but have different origins. Society is produced by our wants, and government by our wickedneſs; the former promotes our happineſs poſitively, by uniting our affections; the latter negatively, by reſtraining our vices. The one encourages intercourſe, the other creates diſtinctions. The firſt is a patron, the laſt a puniſher.
Society in every ſtate is a bleſſing, but government even in its beſt ſtate is but a neceſſary evil; in its worſt ſtate an intolerable one: For when we ſuffer, or are expoſed to the ſame miſeries by a government, which we might expect in a country without government, our calamity is heightened by reflecting that we furniſh the means by which we ſuffer. Government, like dreſs, is the badge of loſt innocence; the palaces of Kings are built on the ruins of the bowers of Paradiſe: For were the impulſes of conſcience clear, uniform and irreſiſtably obeyed, man would need no other lawgiver; but that not being the caſe, he finds it neceſſary to ſurrender up a part of his property, to furniſh means for the protection of the reſt; and this he is induced to do, by the ſame prudence which in every other caſe adviſes him, out of two evils to chooſe the leaſt. Wherefore, ſecurity being the whole deſign and end of government, it unanſwerably follows, that whatever form thereof appears moſt likely to enſure it to us, with the leaſt expence and greateſt benefit, is preferable to all others.
In order to give a clear and juſt idea of the deſign and end of government, let us ſuppoſe a ſmall number of perſons ſettled in ſome ſequeſtered part of the earth, unconnected with the reſt; they will then repreſent the firſt peopling of any country, or of the world. In this ſtate of natural liberty, ſociety will be their firſt thought. A thouſand motives will excite them thereto; the ſtrength of one man is ſo unequal to his wants, and his mind ſo unfitted for perpetual ſolitude, that he is ſoon obliged to ſeek aſſiſtance and relief of another, who in his turn requires the ſame. Four or five united would be able to raiſe a tolerable dwelling in the midſt of a wilderneſs, but one man might labour out the common period of life without accompliſhing any thing; when he had felled his timber he could not remove it, nor erect it after it was removed; hunger
