OXFORD WORLD'S CLASSICS

THOMAS HOBBES

Leviathan

Edited with an Introduction and Notes by

]. C. A. GASKIN

OXFORD
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Hobbes, Thomas, 1588-1679.
J.c,·iathan/Thoma.'> Hobbes; edited with an introduction by J. C. :\. Gaskin.
(Oxford world's classics)
Includes hihliographical rcfi.:rences and index.
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LEV I AT HAN,
OR

The Matter, Forme, & Power

OFA

COMMON-WEALTH
ECCLESIASTICALL
AND

CIVIL L.

'By THoMAs HoBBES of Malmesbury.

LONDON,
Printed for ANDREw CRooKE, at the Green Dragon
in St. Pauls Church-yard, I 6 5 r.
The engraved title-page of the Head Edition
 PART 1

OF MAN

CHAPTER I
OF SENSE*

1. CoNCERNING the thoughts of man, I will consider them first [3]

singly, and afterwards in train, or dependence upon one another.
Singly, they are every one a representation or appearance, of some
quality, or other accident of a body without us; which is commonly
called an object. Which object worketh on the eyes, ears, and other
parts of a man's body; and by diversity of working, produceth
diversity of appearances.
2. The original of them all, is that which we call SENSE, for there
is no conception in a man's mind, which hath not at first, totally, or
by parts, been begotten upon the organs of sense. The rest are
derived from that original.
3. To know the natural cause of sense, is not very necessary to
the business now in hand; and I have elsewhere written* of the same
at large. Nevertheless, to fill each part of my present method, I will
briefly deliver the same in this place.
4. The cause of sense, is the external body, or object, which
presseth the organ proper to each sense, either immediately,
as in the taste and touch; or mediately, as in seeing, hearing, and
smelling: which pressure, by the mediation of the nerves, and other
strings, and membranes of the body, continued inwards to the
brain and heart, causeth there a resistance, or counter-pressure, or
endeavour* of the heart, to deliver itself: which endeavour because
outward, seemeth to be some matter without. And this seeming, or
fancy,* is that which men call sense; and consisteth, as to the eye, in
a light, or colour figured; to the ear, in a sound; to the nostril, in an
odour; to the tongue and palate, in a savour; and to the rest of the
body, in heat, cold, hardness, softness, and such other qualities, as we
discern by feeling. All which qualities called sensible, are in the object
that causeth them, but so many several motions of the matter, by
which it presseth our organs diversely. Neither in us that are
9
 PART I OF MAN

pressed, are they any thing else, but divers motions; (for motion
produceth nothing but motion.) But their appearance to us is
fancy, the same waking, that dreaming. And as pressing, rubbing, or
striking the eye, makes us fancy a light; and pressing the ear,
produceth a din; so do the bodies also we see, or hear, produce the
same by their strong, though unobserved action. For if those
colours, and sounds, were in the bodies, or objects that cause them,
[4] they could not be severed from them, as by glasses, and in echoes
by reflection, we see they are; where we know the thing we see, is in
one place; the appearance, in another. And though at some certain
distance, the real and very object seem invested with the fancy it
begets in us; yet still the object is one thing, the image or fancy is
another. So that sense in all cases, is nothing else but original fancy,
caused (as I have said) by the pressure, that is, by the motion, of
external things upon our eyes, ears, and other organs thereunto
ordained.
5. But the philosophy-schools, through all the universities of
Christendom, grounded upon certain texts of Aristotle, teach
another doctrine; and say, for the cause of vision, that the thing seen,
sendeth forth on every side a visible species (in English) a visible show,
apparition, or aspect, or a being seen; the receiving whereof into the
eye, is seeing. And for the cause of hearing, that the thing heard,
sendeth forth an audible species, that is, an audible aspect, or audible
being seen; which entering at the ear, maketh hearing. Nay for the
cause of understanding also, they say the thing understood sendeth
forth an intelligible species, that is, an intelligible being seen; which
coming into the understanding, makes us understand. I say not this,
as disproving the use of universities: but because I am to speak
hereafter of their office in a commonwealth, I must let you see on all
occasions by the way, what things would be amended in them;
amongst which the frequency of insignificant speech is one.

CHAPTER II
OF IMAGINATION

1. THAT when a thing lies still, unless somewhat else stir it, it will
lie still for ever, is a truth that no man doubts of. But that when a
thing is in motion, it will eternally be in motion, unless somewhat
10
 OF MAN CHAP. 8

CHAPTER VIII
OF THE VIRTUES COMMONLY CALLED INTELLECTUAL;
AND THEIR CONTRARY DEFECTS

1. VIRTUE generally, in all sorts of subjects, is somewhat that is Intellectual

valued for eminence; and consisteth in comparison. For if all things virtue
were equal in all men, nothing would be prized. And by virtues defined.
INTELLECTUAL, are always understood such abilities of the mind, as
men praise, value, and desire should be in themselves; and go com-
monly under the name of a good wit; though the same word wit, be
used also, to distinguish one certain ability from the rest.
2. These virtues are of two sorts; natural, and acquired. By natu- Wit, natural,
ral, I mean not, that which a man hath from his birth: for that is or acquired.
nothing else but sense; wherein men differ so little one from an-
other, and from brute beasts, as it is not to be reckoned amongst
virtues. But I mean, that wit, which is gotten by use only, and
experience; without method, culture, or instruction. This NATURAL Natural wit.
WIT, consisteth principally in two things; celerity of imagining (that
is, swift succession of one thought to another;) and steady direction to
some approved end. On the contrary a slow imagination, maketh
that defect, or fault of the mind, which is commonly called DULL-
NESS, stupidity, and sometimes by other names that signify slowness
of motion, or difficulty to be moved.
3. And this difference of quickness, is caused by the difference of [33]
men's passions; that love and dislike, some one thing, some another:
and therefore some men's thoughts run one way, some another; and
are held to, and observe differently the things that pass through
their imagination. And whereas in this succession of men's
thoughts, there is nothing to observe in the things they think on, but
either in what they be like one another, or in what they be unlike, or
what they serve for, or how they serve to such a purpose; those that
observe their similitudes, in case they be such as are but rarely
observed by others, are said to have a good wit; by which, in this Good wit,
occasion, is meant a good fancy. But they that observe their differ- or fancy.
ences, and dissimilitudes; which is called distinguishing, and discern-
ing, and judging between thing and thing; in case, such discerning be
not easy, are said to have a good judgment: and particularly in matter Good
of conversation and business; wherein, times, places, and persons judgment.
45
 PART I OF MAN

Discretion. are to be discerned, this virtue is called DISCRETION. The former, that
is, fancy, without the help of judgment, is not commended as a
virtue: but the latter which is judgment, and discretion, is
commended for itself, without the help of fancy. Besides the dis-
cretion of times, places, and persons, necessary to a good fancy,
there is required also an often application of his thoughts to their
end; that is to say, to some use to be made of them. This done; he
that hath this virtue, will be easily fitted with similitudes, that will
please, not only by illustration of his discourse, and adorning it with
new and apt metaphors; but also, by the rarity of their invention.
But without steadiness, and direction to some end, a great fancy is
one kind of madness; such as they have, that entering into any
discourse, are snatched from their purpose, by every thing that
comes in their thought, into so many, and so long digressions, and
parentheses, that they utterly lose themselves: which kind offolly, I
know no particular name for: but the cause of it is, sometimes want
of experience; whereby that seemeth to a man new and rare, which
doth not so to others: sometimes pusillanimity; by which that seems
great to him, which other men think a trifle: and whatsoever is new,
or great, and therefore thought fit to be told, withdraws a man by
degrees from the intended way of his discourse.
4. In a good poem, whether it be epic, or dramatic; as also in
sonnets, epigrams, and other pieces, both judgment and fancy are
required: but the fancy must be more eminent; because they please
for the extravagancy; but ought not to displease by indiscretion.
5. In a good history, the judgment must be eminent; because the
goodness consisteth, in the method, in the truth, and in the choice
of the actions that are most profitable to be known. Fancy has no
place, but only in adorning the style.
6. In orations of praise, and in invectives, the fancy is predomi-
nant; because the design is not truth, but to honour or dishonour;
which is done by noble, or by vile comparisons. The judgment
does but suggest what circumstances make an action laudable, or
culpable.
[34] 7. In hortatives [exhortations], and pleadings, as truth, or dis-
guise serveth best to the design in hand; so is the judgment, or the
fancy most required.
8. In demonstration, in counsel, and all rigorous search of truth,
judgment does all, except sometimes the understanding have need
to be opened by some apt similitude; and then there is so much use
 OF MAN CHAP. 8
of fancy. But for metaphors, they are in this case utterly excluded.
For seeing they openly profess deceit; to admit them into counsel, or
reasoning, were manifest folly.
9. And in any discourse whatsoever, if the defect of discretion be
apparent, how extravagant soever the fancy be, the whole discourse
will be taken for a sign of want of wit; and so will it never when the
discretion is manifest, though the fancy be never so ordinary.
10. The secret thoughts of a man run over all things, holy, pro-
fane, clean, obscene, grave, and light, without shame, or blame;
which verbal discourse cannot do, farther than the judgment shall
approve of the time, place, and persons. An anatomist, or a phys-
ician may speak, or write his judgment of unclean things; because it
is not to please, but profit: but for another man to write his extrava-
gant, and pleasant fancies of the same, is as if a man, from being
tumbled into the dirt, should come and present himself before good
company. And 'tis the want of discretion that makes the difference.
Again, in professed remissness of mind, and familiar company, a
man may play with the sounds, and equivocal significations of
words; and that many times with encounters of extraordinary fancy:
but in a sermon, or in public, or before persons unknown, or whom
we ought to reverence, there is no jingling of words that will not be
accounted folly: and the difference is only in the want of discretion.
So that where wit is wanting, it is not fancy that is wanting, but
discretion. Judgment therefore without fancy is wit, but fancy with-
out judgment, not.
11. When the thoughts of a man, that has a design in hand,
running over a multitude of things, observes how they conduce to
that design; or what design they may conduce unto; if his obser-
vations be such as are not easy, or usual, this wit of his is called
PRUDENCE; and dependeth on much experience, and memory of the Prudence.
like things, and their consequences heretofore. In which there is not
so much difference of men, as there is in their fancies and judg-
ments; because the experience of men equal in age, is not much
unequal, as to the quantity; but lies in different occasions; every one
having his private designs. To govern well a family, and a kingdom,
are not different degrees of prudence; but different sorts ofbusiness;
no more than to draw a picture in little, or as great, or greater than
the life, are different degrees of art. A plain husbandman is more
prudent in affairs of his own house, than a privy-councillor in the
affairs of another man.
47
 PART I OF MAN

12. To prudence, if you add the use of unjust, or dishonest

means, such as usually are prompted to men by fear, or want; you
Craft. have that crooked wisdom, which is called CRAFT; which is a sign of
[35) pusillanimity. For magnanimity is contempt of unjust, or dishonest
helps. And that which the Latins call versutia, (translated into Eng-
lish, shifting,) and is a putting off of a present danger or incommod-
ity, by engaging into a greater, as when a man robs one to pay
another, is but a shorter-sighted craft, called versutia, from versura,
which signifies taking money at usury, for the present payment of
interest.
Acquired wit. 13. As for acquired wit, (I mean acquired by method and instruc-
tion,) there is none but reason; which is grounded on the right use
of speech; and produceth the sciences. But of reason and science, I
have already spoken in the fifth and sixth chapters.
14. The causes of this difference of wits, are in the passions: and
the difference of passions, proceedeth partly from the different
constitution of the body, and partly from different education. For if
the difference proceeded from the temper of the brain, and the
organs of sense, either exterior or interior, there would be no less
difference of men in their sight, hearing, or other senses, than in
their fancies, and discretions. It proceeds therefore from the pas-
sions; which are different, not only from the difference of men's
complexions; but also from their difference of customs, and
education.
15. The passions that most of all cause the difference of wit, are
principally, the more or less desire of power, of riches, of know-
ledge, and of honour. All which may be reduced to the first, that is,
desire of power. For riches, knowledge and honour are but several
sorts of power.
16. And therefore, a man who has no great passion for any of
these things; but is as men term it indifferent; though he may be so
far a good man, as to be free from giving offence; yet he cannot
possibly have either a great fancy, or much judgment. For the
thoughts, are to the desires, as scouts, and spies, to range abroad,
and find the way to the things desired: all steadiness of the mind's
motion, and all quickness of the same, proceeding from thence.
For as to have no desire, is to be dead: so to have weak passions,
is dullness; and to have passions indifferently for every thing,
Giddiness. GIDDINESS, and distraction; and to have stronger and more vehement
 OF MAN CHAP. 8
passions for any thing, than is ordinarily seen in others, is that which
men call MADNESS. Madness.
17. Whereof there be almost as many kinds, as of the passions
themselves. Sometimes the extraordinary and extravagant passion,
proceedeth from the evil constitution of the organs of the body, or
harm done them; and sometimes the hurt, and indisposition of the
organs, is caused by the vehemence, or long continuance of the
passion. But in both cases the madness is of one and the same
nature.
18. The passion, whose violence, or continuance, maketh mad-
ness, is either great vain-glory; which is commonly called pride, and
self-conceit; or great dejection of mind.
19. Pride, subjecteth a man to anger, the excess whereof, is the Rage.
madness called RAGE, and FURY. And thus it comes to pass that
excessive desire of revenge, when it becomes habitual, hurteth the [36]
organs, and becomes rage: that excessive love, with jealousy, be-
comes also rage: excessive opinion of a man's own self, for divine
inspiration, for wisdom, learning, form, and the like, becomes
distraction, and giddiness: the same, joined with envy, rage:
vehement opinion of the truth of any thing, contradicted by others,
rage.
20. Dejection, subjects a man to causeless fears; which is a Melancholy.
madness commonly called MELANCHOLY, apparent also in divers
manners; as in haunting of solitudes, and graves; in superstitious
behaviour; and in fearing some one, some another particular thing.
In sum, all passions that produce strange and unusual behaviour, are
called by the general name of madness. But of the several kinds Madness.
of madness, he that would take the pains, might enrol a legion. And
if the excesses be madness, there is no doubt but the passions
themselves, when they tend to evil, are degrees of the same.
21. (For example,) though the effect of folly, in them that are
possessed of an opinion of being inspired, be not visible always in
one man, by any very extravagant action, that proceedeth from such
passion; yet, when many of them conspire together, the rage of the
whole multitude is visible enough. For what argument of madness
can there be greater, than to clamour, strike, and throw stones at our
best friends? Yet this is somewhat less than such a multitude will do.
For they will clamour, fight against, and destroy those, by whom all
their lifetime before, they have been protected, and secured from

49
 PART I OF MAN

injury. And if this be madness in the multitude, it is the same in

every particular man. For as in the midst of the sea, though a man
perceive no sound of that part of the water next him; yet he is well
assured, that part contributes as much, to the roaring of the sea, as
any other part, of the same quantity: so also, though we perceive no
great unquietness, in one, or two men; yet we may be well assured,
that their singular passions, are parts of the seditious roaring of
a troubled nation. And if there were nothing else that bewrayed
[revealed] their madness; yet that very arrogating inspiration to
themselves, is argument enough. If some man in Bedlam should
entertain you with sober discourse; and you desire in taking leave, to
know what he were, that you might another time requite his civility;
and he should tell you, he were God the Father; I think you need
expect no extravagant action for argument of his madness.
22. This opinion of inspiration, called commonly, private spirit,
begins very often, from some lucky finding of an error generally held
by others; and not knowing, or not remembering, by what conduct
of reason, they came to so singular a truth, (as they think it, though
it be many times an untruth they light on,) they presently admire
themselves; as being in the special grace of God Almighty, who hath
revealed the same to them supernaturally, by his Spirit.
23. Again, that madness is nothing else, but too much appearing
passion, may be gathered out of the effects of wine, which are the
same with those of the evil disposition of the organs. For the variety
[37] of behaviour in men that have drunk too much, is the same with that
of madmen: some of them raging, others loving, others laughing, all
extravagantly, but according to their several domineering passions:
for the effect of the wine, does but remove dissimulation, and take
from them the sight of the deformity of their passions. For, (I
believe) the most sober men, when they walk alone without care
and employment of the mind, would be unwilling the vanity and
extravagance of their thoughts at that time should be publicly seen:
which is a confession, that passions unguided, are for the most part
mere madness.
24. The opinions of the world, both in ancient and later ages,
concerning the cause of madness, have been two. Some, deriving
them from the passions; some, from demons, or spirits, either good
or bad, which they thought might enter into a man, possess him, and
move his organs in such strange, and uncouth manner, as madmen
use to do. The former sort therefore, called such men, madmen: but
so
 OF MAN CHAP. 8
the latter, called them sometimes demoniacs, (that is, possessed with
spirits;) sometimes energumeni, (that is, agitated, or moved with
spirits;) and now in Italy they are called, not only pazzi, madmen;
but also spiritati, men possessed.
25. There was once a great conflux of people in Abdera, a city of
the Greeks, at the acting of the tragedy of Andromeda, upon an
extreme hot day: whereupon, a great many of the spectators falling
into fevers, had this accident from the heat, and from the tragedy
together, that they did nothing but pronounce iambics, with the
names of Perseus and Andromeda; which together with the fever,
was cured by the coming on of winter: and this madness was thought
to proceed from the passion imprinted by the tragedy.* Likewise
there reigned a fit of madness in another Grecian city, which
seized only the young maidens; and caused many of them to hang
themselves. This was by most then thought an act of the Devil. But
one that suspected, that contempt of life in them, might proceed
from some passion of the mind, and supposing that they did not
contemn also their honour, gave counsel to the magistrates, to strip
such as so hang-ed themselves, and let them hang out naked. This,
the story* says, cured that madness. But on the other side, the
same Grecians, did often ascribe madness, to the operation of
Eumenides, or Furies; and sometimes of Ceres, Phoebus, and other
gods: so much did men attribute to phantasms, as to think them
aerial living bodies; and generally to call them spirits. And as the
Romans in this, held the same opinion with the Greeks: so also did
the Jews; for they called madmen prophets, or (according as they
thought the spirits good or bad) demoniacs; and some of them called
both prophets, and demoniacs, madmen; and some called the same
man both demoniac, and madman. But for the Gentiles, 'tis no
wonder; because diseases, and health; vices and virtues; and many
natural accidents, were with them termed, and worshipped as
demons. So that a man was to understand by demon,* as well
(sometimes) an ague, as a devil. But for the Jews to have such [38]
opinion, is somewhat strange. For neither Moses, nor Abraham
pretended to prophecy by possession of a spirit; but from the voice
of God; or by a vision or dream: nor is there anything in his Law,
moral, or ceremonial, by which they were taught, there was any such
enthusiasm; or any possession. When God is said, (Numb. I 1. 25) to
take from the spirit that was in Moses, and give to the seventy
elders, the Spirit of God (taking it for the substance of God) is not
PART I OF MAN

divided. The Scriptures by the Spirit of God in man, mean a man's

spirit, inclined to godliness. And where it is said,* (Exod. 28. 3)
Whom I have filled with the spirit of wisdom to make garments for
Aaron, is not meant a spirit put into them, that can make garments;
but the wisdom of their own spirits in that kind of work. In the like
sense, the spirit of man, when it produceth unclean actions, is
ordinarily called an unclean spirit; and so other spirits, though not
always, yet as often as the virtue or vice so styled, is extraordinary,
and eminent. Neither did the other prophets of the old Testament
pretend enthusiasm; or, that God spake in them; but to them,
by voice, vision, or dream; and the burthen of the Lord, was not
possession, but command. How then could the Jews fall into this
opinion of possession? I can imagine no reason, but that which is
common to all men; namely, the want of curiosity to search natural
causes; and their placing felicity, in the acquisition of the gross
pleasures of the senses, and the things that most immediately
conduce thereto. For they that see any strange, and unusual ability,
or defect, in a man's mind; unless they see withal, from what cause
it may probably proceed, can hardly think it natural; and if not
natural, they must needs think it supernatural; and then what can it
be, but that either God, or the Devil is in him? And hence it came
to pass, when our Saviour (Mark 3· 21) was compassed about with
the multitude, those of the house doubted he was mad, and went out
to hold him: but the Scribes said he had Beelzebub, and that was it,
by which he cast out devils; as if the greater madman had awed the
lesser. And that (John 10. 20) some said, He hath a devil, and is mad;
whereas others holding him for a prophet, said, These are not the
words of one that hath a devil. So in the old Testament he that came
to anoint Jehu, (2 Kings 9· II) was a prophet; but some of the
company asked Jehu, what came that madman for? So that in sum,
it is manifest, that whosoever behaved himself in extraordinary
manner, was thought by the Jews to be possessed either with a good,
or evil spirit; except by the Sadducees, who erred so far on the other
hand, as not to believe there were at all any spirits, (which is very
near to direct atheism;*) and thereby perhaps the more provoked
others, to term such men demoniacs, rather than madmen.
26. But why then does our Saviour proceed in the curing of
them, as if they were possessed; and not as if they were mad? To
which I can give no other kind of answer, but that which is given to
those that urge the Scripture in like manner against the opinion of
52
 OF MAN CHAP. 8
the motion of the earth. The Scripture was written to shew unto
men the kingdom of God, and to prepare their minds to become his
obedient subjects; leaving the world, and the philosophy thereof, to [39]
the disputation of men, for the exercising of their natural reason.*
Whether the earth's, or sun's motion make the day, and night; or
whether the exorbitant actions of men, proceed from passion, or
from the devil, (so we worship him not} it is all one, as to our
obedience, and subjection to God Almighty; which is the thing for
which the Scripture was written. As for that our Saviour speaketh to
the disease, as to a person; it is the usual phrase of all that cure by
words only, as Christ did, (and enchanters pretend to do, whether
they speak to a devil or not.} For is not Christ also said (Matt. 8. 26)
to have rebuked the winds? Is not he said also (Luke 4· 39) to rebuke
a fever? Yet this does not argue that a fever is a devil. And whereas
many of the devils are said to confess Christ; it is not necessary to
interpret those places otherwise, than that those madmen confessed
him. And whereas our Saviour (Matt. 12. 43) speaketh of an unclean
spirit, that having gone out of a man, wandereth through dry places,
seeking rest, and finding none; and returning into the same man,
with seven other spirits worse than himself; it is manifestly a
parable, alluding to a man, that after a little endeavour to quit his
lusts, is vanquished by the strength of them; and becomes seven
times worse than he was. So that I see nothing at all in the Scripture,
that requireth a belief, that demoniacs were any other thing but
madmen.
27. There is yet another fault in the discourses of some men; Insignificant
which may also be numbered amongst the sorts of madness; namely, speech.
that abuse of words, whereof I have spoken before in the fifth
chapter, by the name of absurdity. And that is, when men speak
such words, as put together, have in them no signification at all; but
are fallen upon by some, through misunderstanding of the words
they have received, and repeat by rote; by others, from intention
to deceive by obscurity. And this is incident to none but those,
that converse in questions of matters incomprehensible, as the
Schoolmen; or in questions of abstruse philosophy. The common
sort of men seldom speak insignificantly, and are therefore, by those
other egregious persons counted idiots. But to be assured their
words are without any thing correspondent to them in the mind,
there would need some examples; which if any man require, let him
take a Schoolman in his hands, and see if he can translate any one
53
 PART I OF MAN

chapter concerning any difficult point, as the Trinity; the Deity; the
nature of Christ; transubstantiation; free-will, &c into any of the
modern tongues, so as to make the same intelligible; or into any
tolerable Latin, such as they were acquainted withal, that lived when
the Latin tongue was vulgar. What is the meaning of these words.
The first cause does not necessarily inflow any thing into the second, by
force ofthe essential subordination ofthe second causes, by which it may
help it to work? They are the translation of the title of the sixth
chapter of Suarez' first book, Of the concourse, motion, and help of
God.* When men write whole volumes of such stuff, are they not
[40] mad, or intend to make others so? And particularly, in the question
of transubstantiation; where after certain words spoken; they that
say, the whiteness, roundness, magnitude, quality, corruptibility, all
which are incorporeal, &c. go out of the wafer, into the body of our
blessed Saviour, do they not make those nesses, tudes, and ties, to be
so many spirits possessing his body? For by spirits, they mean
always things, that being incorporeal, are nevertheless moveable
from one place to another. So that this kind of absurdity, may
rightly be numbered amongst the many sorts of madness; and all the
time that guided by clear thoughts of their worldly lust, they forbear
disputing, or writing thus, but lucid intervals. And thus much of the
virtues and defects intellectual.

CHAPTER IX
OF THE SEVERAL SUBJECTS OF KNOWLEDGE*

1. THERE are of KNOWLEDGE two kinds; whereof one is knowledge

of fact: the other knowledge of the consequence of one affirmation to
another. The former is nothing else, but sense and memory, and is
absolute knowledge; as when we see a fact doing, or remember it done:
and this is the knowledge required in a witness. The latter is called
science; and is conditional; as when we know, that, if the figure shown
be a circle, then any straight line through the centre shall divide it into
two equal parts. And this is the knowledge required in a philosopher;
that is to say, of him that pretends to reasoning.
2. The register of knowledge of fact is called history. Whereof
there be two sorts: one called natural history; which is the history of

54
 PART I OF MAN

and that is, unpleasing priests; and those not only amongst
Catholics, but even in that church that hath presumed most of
reformation.*

CHAPTER XIII
OF THE NATURAL CONDITION OF MANKIND AS
CONCERNING THEIR FELICITY, AND MISERY

Men by 1. NATURE hath made men so equal, in the faculties of the body,
nature equal. and mind; as that though there be found one man sometimes mani-
festly stronger in body, or of quicker mind than another; yet when
all is reckoned together, the difference between man, and man, is
not so considerable, as that one man can thereupon claim to himself
any benefit, to which another may not pretend, as well as he. For as
to the strength of body, the weakest has strength enough to kill the
strongest, either by secret machination, or by confederacy with
others, that are in the same danger with himself.
2. And as to the faculties of the mind, (setting aside the arts
grounded upon words, and especially that skill of proceeding upon
general, and infallible rules, called science; which very few have, and
but in few things; as being not a native faculty, born with us; nor
attained (as prudence,) while we look after somewhat else,) I find yet
a greater equality amongst men, than that of strength. For pru-
dence, is but experience; which equal time, equally bestows on all
[61] men, in those things they equally apply themselves unto. That
which may perhaps make such equality incredible, is but a vain
conceit of one's own wisdom, which almost all men think they
have in a greater degree, than the vulgar; that is, than all men but
themselves, and a few others, whom by fame, or for concurring with
themselves, they approve. For such is the nature of men, that
howsoever they may acknowledge many others to be more witty, or
more eloquent, or more learned; yet they will hardly believe there be
many so wise as themselves; for they see their own wit at hand, and
other men's at a distance. But this proveth rather that men are in
that point equal, than unequal. For there is not ordinarily a greater
sign of the equal distribution of any thing, than that every man is
contented with his share.
82
 OF MAN CHAP. 13

3. From this equality of ability, ariseth equality of hope in the From

attaining of our ends. And therefore if any two men desire the same equality
thing, which nevertheless they cannot both enjoy, they become proceeds
dij]idence.
enemies; and in the way to their end, (which is principally their own
conservation, and sometimes their delectation only,) endeavour to
destroy, or subdue one another. And from hence it comes to pass,
that where an invader hath no more to fear, than another man's
single power; if one plant, sow, build, or possess a convenient seat,
others may probably be expected to come prepared with forces
united, to dispossess, and deprive him, not only of the fruit of his
labour, but also of his life, or liberty. And the invader again is in the
like danger of another.
4. And from this diffidence of one another, there is no way for From
any man to secure himself, so reasonable, as anticipation; that is, by dij]idence
war.
force, or wiles, to master the persons of all men he can, so long, till
he see no other power great enough to endanger him: and this is no
more than his own conservation requireth, and is generally allowed.
Also because there be some, that taking pleasure in contemplating
their own power in the acts of conquest, which they pursue farther
than their security requires; if others, that otherwise would be glad
to be at ease within modest bounds, should not by invasion increase
their power, they would not be able, long time, by standing only on
their defence, to subsist. And by consequence, such augmentation of
dominion over men, being necessary to a man's conservation, it
ought to be allowed him.
5. Again, men have no pleasure, (but on the contrary a great
deal of grief) in keeping company, where there is no power able to
over-awe them all. For every man looketh that his companion
should value him, at the same rate he sets upon himself: and upon all
signs of contempt, or undervaluing, naturally endeavours, as far as
he dares (which amongst them that have no common power to keep
them in quiet, is far enough to make them destroy each other,) to
extort a greater value from his contemners, by damage; and from
others, by the example.
6. So that in the nature of man, we find three principal causes of
quarrel. First, competition; secondly, diffidence; thirdly, glory.
7. The first, maketh men invade for gain; the second, for safety; [62]
and the third, for reputation. The first use violence, to make them-
selves masters of other men's persons, wives, children, and cattle;
the second, to defend them; the third, for trifles, as a word, a smile,
 PART I OF MAN

a different opinion, and any other sign of undervalue, either direct

in their persons, or by reflection in their kindred, their friends, their
nation, their profession, or their name.
Out of civil 8. * Hereby it is manifest, that during the time men live without
states, there is a common power to keep them all in awe, they are in that condition
always war
which is called war; and such a war, as is of every man, against every
of every one
against every man. For WAR, consisteth not in battle only, or the act of fighting;
one. but in a tract of time, wherein the will to contend by battle is
sufficiently known: and therefore the notion of time, is to be con-
sidered in the nature of war; as it is in the nature of weather. For as
the nature of foul weather, lieth not in a shower or two of rain; but
in an inclination thereto of many days together: so the nature of war,
consisteth not in actual fighting; but in the known disposition
thereto, during all the time there is no assurance to the contrary. All
other time is PEACE.
The 9. Whatsoever therefore is consequent to a time of war, where
incommodities every man is enemy to every man; the same is consequent to the
of such a time, wherein men live without other security, than what their own
war.
strength, and their own invention shall furnish them withal. In such
condition, there is no place for industry; because the fruit thereof is
uncertain: and consequently no culture of the earth; no navigation,
nor use of the commodities that may be imported by sea; no com-
modious building; no instruments of moving, and removing such
things as require much force; no knowledge of the face of the earth;
no account of time; no arts; no letters; no society; and which is worst
of all, continual fear, and danger of violent death; and the life of
man, solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.
10. It may seem strange to some man, that has not well weighed
these things; that nature should thus dissociate, and render men apt
to invade, and destroy one another: and he may therefore, not
trusting to this inference, made from the passions, desire perhaps to
have the same confirmed by experience. Let him therefore con-
sider* with himself, when taking a journey, he arms himself, and
seeks to go well accompanied; when going to sleep, he locks his
doors; when even in his house he locks his chests; and this when he
knows there be laws, and public officers, armed, to revenge all
injuries shall be done him; what opinion he has of his fellow-sub-
jects, when he rides armed; of his fellow citizens, when he locks his
doors; and of his children, and servants, when he locks his chests.
Does he not there as much accuse mankind by his actions, as I do by
 OF MAN CHAP. 13

my words? But neither of us accuse man's nature in it. The desires,

and other passions of man, are in themselves no sin. No more are the
actions, that proceed from those passions, till they know a law that
forbids them: which till laws be made they cannot know: nor can any
law be made, till they have agreed upon the person that shall
make it.
11. It may peradventure be thought, there was never such a time, [63]
nor condition of war as this;* and I believe it was never generally so,
over all the world: but there are many places, where they live so
now. For the savage people in many places of America, except the
government of small families, the concord whereof dependeth on
natural lust, have no government at all; and live at this day in that
brutish manner, as I said before. Howsoever, it may be perceived
what manner of life there would be, where there were no common
power to fear; by the manner of life, which men that have formerly
lived under a peaceful government, use to degenerate into, in a civil
war.
12. But though there had never been any time, wherein
particular men were in a condition of war one against another;
yet in all times, kings, and persons of sovereign authority, because
of their independency, are in continual jealousies, and in the
state and posture of gladiators; having their weapons pointing, and
their eyes fixed on one another; that is, their forts, garrisons,
and guns upon the frontiers of their kingdoms; and continual spies
upon their neighbours; which is a posture of war. But because
they uphold thereby, the industry of their subjects; there does
not follow from it, that misery, which accompanies the liberty of
particular men.
13. To this war of every man against every man, this also is In such a war
consequent; that nothing can be unjust. The notions of right and nothing is
wrong, justice and injustice have there no place. Where there is no unjust.
common power, there is no law: where no law, no injustice. Force,
and fraud, are in war the two cardinal virtues. Justice, and injustice
are none of the faculties neither of the body, nor mind. If they were,
they might be in a man that were alone in the world, as well as his
senses, and passions. They are qualities, that relate to men in so-
ciety, not in solitude. It is consequent also to the same condition,
that there be no propriety, no dominion, no mine and thine distinct;
but only that to be every man's, that he can get; and for so long, as
he can keep it. And thus much for the ill condition, which man by
ss
 PART I OF MAN

mere nature is actually placed in; though with a possibility to come

out of it, consisting partly in the passions, partly in his reason.
The passions 14. The passions that incline men to peace, are fear of death;
that incline desire of such things as are necessary to commodious living; and a
men to peace.
hope by their industry to obtain them. And reason suggesteth con-
venient articles of peace, upon which men may be drawn to agree-
ment. These articles, are they, which otherwise are called the Laws
of Nature: whereof I shall speak more particularly, in the two
following chapters.

[64] CHAPTER XIV

OF THE FIRST AND SECOND NATURAL LAWS,
AND OF CONTRACTS

Right of 1. THE RIGHT OF NATURE, which writers commonly call jus

nature what. naturale, is the liberty each man hath, to use his own power, as he
will himself, for the preservation of his own nature; that is to say, of
his own life; and consequently, of doing any thing, which in his own
judgment, and reason, he shall conceive to be the aptest means
thereunto.
Liberty what. 2. By LIBERTY, is understood, according to the proper signifi-
cation of the word, the absence of external impediments: which
impediments, may oft take away part of a man's power to do what he
would; but cannot hinder him from using the power left him,
according as his judgment, and reason shall dictate to him.
A law of 3. A LAW OF NATURE, (lex natura/is,) is a precept, or general rule,
nature what. found out by reason, by which a man is forbidden to do, that, which
is destructive of his life, or taketh away the means of preserving the
same; and to omit, that, by which he thinketh it may be best pre-
served. For though they that speak of this subject, use to confound
Difference of jus, and lex, right and law; yet they ought to be distinguished;
right and because RIGHT, consisteth in liberty to do, or to forbear: whereas
law.
LAW, determineth, and bindeth to one of them: so that law, and
right, differ as much, as obligation, and liberty; which in one and the
same matter are inconsistent.
Naturr.lly
every man
4. And because the condition of man, (as hath been declared in
has right to the precedent chapter) is a condition of war of every one against
every thing. every one; in which case every one is governed by his own reason;
86
 PART 2 [85]

OF COMMONWEALTH

CHAPTER XVII
OF THE CAUSES, GENERATION, AND DEFINITION OF
A COMMONWEALTH*

1. THE final cause, end, or design of men, (who naturally love The end of
liberty, and dominion over others,) in the introduction of that re- cammonwealth,
particular
straint upon themselves, (in which we see them live in common-
security:
wealths,) is the foresight of their own preservation, and of a more
contented life thereby; that is to say, of getting themselves out from
that miserable condition of war, which is necessarily consequent (as
hath been shown, chapter XIII) to the natural passions of men, when
there is no visible power to keep them in awe, and tie them by fear
of punishment to the performance of their covenants, and obser-
vation of those laws of nature set down in the fourteenth and
fifteenth chapters.
2. For the laws of nature (as justice, equity, modesty, mercy, and (in Which is not
sum) doing to others, as we would be done to,) of themselves, without to be had
from the law
the terror of some power, to cause them to be observed, are contrary
of nature:
to our natural passions, that carry us to partiality, pride, revenge,
and the like. And covenants, without the sword, are but words, and
of no strength to secure a man at all. Therefore notwithstanding the
laws of nature (which every one hath then kept, when he has the will
to keep them, when he can do it safely) if there be no power erected,
or not great enough for our security; every man will, and may
lawfully rely on his own strength and art, for caution against all
other men. And in all places, where men have lived by small fam-
ilies, to rob and spoil one another, has been a trade, and so far from
being reputed against the law of nature, that the greater spoils they
gained, the greater was their honour;* and men observed no other
laws therein, but the laws of honour; that is, to abstain from cruelty,
leaving to men their lives, and instruments of husbandry. And as
small families did then; so now do cities and kingdoms which are but
greater fatr.:iites {tor their )Wn security) enlarge their dominions,
III
 PART 2 OF COMMONWEALTH

upon all pretences of danger, and fear of invasion, or assistance that

may be given to invaders, and endeavour as much as they can, to
subdue, or weaken their neighbours, by open force, and secret arts,
for want of other caution, justly; and are remembered for it in after
ages with honour.
Nor from the 3. Nor is it the joining together of a small number of men, that
conjunction of gives them this security; because in small numbers, small additions
a few men or
on the one side or the other, make the advantage of strength so great,
families:
as is sufficient to carry the victory; and therefore gives encourage-
[86]
ment to an invasion. The multitude sufficient to confide in for our
security, is not determined by any certain number, but by compari-
son with the enemy we fear; and is then sufficient, when the odds of
the enemy is not of so visible and conspicuous moment, to deter-
mine the event of war, as to move him to attempt.
Nor from a 4. And be there never so great a multitude; yet if their actions be
great directed according to their particular judgments, and particular
multitude,
appetites, they can expect thereby no defence, nor protection,
unless
directed by neither against a common enemy, nor against the injuries of one
one judgment. another. For being distracted in opinions concerning the best use
and application of their strength, they do not help, but hinder one
another; and reduce their strength by mutual opposition to nothing:
whereby they are easily, not only subdued by a very few that agree
together; but also when there is no common enemy, they make war
upon each other, for their particular interests. For if we could
suppose a great multitude of men to consent in the observation of
justice, and other laws of nature, without a common power to keep
them all in awe; we might as well suppose all mankind to do the
same; and then there neither would be, nor need to be any civil
government, or commonwealth at all; because there would be peace
without subjection.
And that 5. Nor is it enough for the security, which men desire should
continually. last all the time of their life, that they be governed, and directed
by one judgment, for a limited time; as in one battle, or one war.
For though they obtain a victory by their unanimous endeavour
against a foreign enemy; yet afterwards, when either they have no
common enemy, or he that by one part is held for an enemy, is by
another part held for a friend, they must needs by the difference
of their interests dissolve, and fall again into a war amongst
themselves.

112
 OF COMMONWEALTH CHAP. 17

6. It is true, that certain living creatures, as bees, and ants, live Why certain
sociably one with another, (which are therefore by Aristotle num- creatures
without
bered* amongst political creatures;) and yet have no other direction,
reason, or
than their particular judgments and appetites; nor speech, whereby speech, do
one of them can signify to another, what he thinks expedient for the nevertheless
common benefit: and therefore some man may perhaps desire to live in
know, why mankind cannot do the same. To which I answer, society,
without any
7. First, that men are continually in competition for honour and coercive
dignity, which these creatures are not; and consequently amongst power.
men there ariseth on that ground, envy and hatred, and finally war;
but amongst these not so.
8. Secondly, that amongst these creatures, the common good
differeth not from the private; and being by nature inclined to their
private, they procure thereby the common benefit. But man, whose
joy consisteth in comparing himself with other men, can relish
nothing but what is eminent.
9. Thirdly, that these creatures, having not (as man) the use of
reason, do not see, nor think they see any fault, in the administration
of their common business: whereas amongst men, there are very [87]
many, that think themselves wiser, and abler to govern the public,
better than the rest; and these strive to reform and innovate, one this
way, another that way; and thereby bring it into distraction and civil
war.
10. Fourthly, that these creatures, though they have some use of
voice, in making known to one another their desires, and other
affections; yet they want that art of words, by which some men can
represent to others, that which is good, in the likeness of evil; and
evil, in the likeness of good; and augment, or diminish the apparent
greatness of good and evil; discontenting men, and troubling their
peace at their pleasure.
11. Fifthly, irrational creatures cannot distinguish between in-
jury, and damage; and therefore as long as they be at ease, they are
not offended with their fellows: whereas man is then most trouble-
some, when he is most at ease: for then it is that he loves to shew his
wisdom, and control the actions of them that govern the common-
wealth.
12. Lastly, the agreement of these creatures is natural; that of
men, is by covenant only, which is artificial: and therefore it is no
wonder if there be somewhat else required (besides covenant) to

IIJ
 PART 2 OF COMMONWEALTH

make their agreement constant and lasting; which is a common

power, to keep them in awe, and to direct their actions to the
common benefit.
The 13. The only way to erect such a common power, as may be able
generation to defend them from the invasion of foreigners, and the injuries of
of a
one another, and thereby to secure them in such sort, as that by their
commonwealth.
own industry, and by the fruits of the earth, they may nourish
themselves and live contentedly; is, to confer all their power and
strength upon one man, or upon one assembly of men, that may
reduce all their wills, by plurality of voices, unto one will: which is
as much as to say, to appoint one man, or assembly of men, to bear
their person; and every one to own, and acknowledge himself to be
author of whatsoever he that so beareth their person, shall act, or
cause to be acted, in those things which concern the common peace
and safety; and therein to submit their wills, every one to his will,
and their judgments, to his judgment. This is more than consent, or
concord; it is a real unity of them all, in one and the same person,
made by covenant of every man with every man, in such manner, as
if every man should say to every man, I authorize and give up my
right ofgoverning myself, to this man, or to this assembly ofmen, on this
condition, that thou give up thy right to him, and authorize all his
actions in like manner. This done, the multitude so united in one
person, is called a COMMONWEALTH, in Latin CIVITAS. This is the
generation of that great LEVIATHAN, or rather (to speak more rever-
ently) of that Mortal God, to which we owe under the Immortal God,
our peace and defence. For by this authority, given him by every
[88] particular man in the commonwealth, he hath the use of so much
power and strength conferred on him, that by terror thereof, he is
enabled to conform* the wills of them all, to peace at home, and
mutual aid against their enemies abroad. And in him consisteth the
The essence of the commonwealth; which (to define it,) is one person, of
definition of a whose acts a great multitude, by mutual covenants one with another,
commonwealth.
have made themselves every one the author, to the end he may use the
strength and means of them all, as he shall think expedient, for their
peace and common defence.
Sovereign, 14. And he that carrieth this person, is called SOVEREIGN, and said
and subject, to have sovereign power; and every one besides, his SUBJECT.
what. 15. The attaining to this sovereign power, is by two ways. One,
by natural force; as when a man maketh his children, to submit
themselves, and their children to his government, as being able to
 OF COMMONWEALTH CHAP. 18

destroy them if they refuse; or by war subdueth his enemies to his

will, giving them their lives on that condition. The other, is when
men agree amongst themselves, to submit to some man, or assembly
of men, voluntarily, on confidence to be protected by him against
all others. This latter, may be called a political commonwealth, or
commonwealth by institution; and the former, a commonwealth by
acquisition. And first, I shall speak of a commonwealth by institu-
tion.

CHAPTER XVIII
OF THE RIGHTS OF SOVEREIGNS BY INSTITUTION*

1. A commonwealth is said to be instituted, when a multitude of men The act of

do agree, and covenant, every one, with every one, that to whatsoever instituting .J
commonwealth,
man, or assembly ofmen, shall be given by the major part, the right to
what.
present the person of them all (that is to say, to be their representa-
tive;) every one, as well he that voted for it, as he that voted against it,
shall authorize all the actions and judgments, of that man, or as-
sembly of men, in the same manner, as if they were his own, to the
end, to live peaceably amongst themselves, and be protected against
other men.
2. From this institution of a commonwealth are derived all the The conse-
rights, and faculties of him, or them, on whom the sovereign power quences to such
is conferred by the consent of the people assembled. institutions, are
3. First, because they covenant, it is to be understood, they are 1. The

not obliged by former covenant to any thing repugnant hereunto. subjects

And consequently they that have already instituted a common- cannot
change the
wealth, being thereby bound by covenant, to own the actions, and fonn of
judgments of one, cannot lawfully make a new covenant, amongst government.
themselves, to be obedient to any other, in any thing whatsoever,
without his permission. And therefore, they that are subjects to a
monarch, cannot without his leave cast off monarchy, and return to
the confusion of a disunited multitude; nor transfer their person
from him that beareth it, to another man, or other assembly of men:
for they are bound, every man to every man, to own, and be reputed
author of all, that he that already is their sovereign, shall do, and [89]
judge fit to be done: so that any one man dissenting, all the rest
115