CHAPTER V

THE BASIS OF AUTHORITY

"Humana societas debet esse perfecta respublica."-BELLARMINE.

The physical condition of man renders society necessary-The Social Instinct-Social organizations the product of the ideas of right and authority-The family, the first society-The idea of parental authority a prolongation of the idea of right—That authority ceases when the child has become a man-for then its rights are equal to its father's rights— Two kinds of authority, Moral authority and effective authority— Moral authority must rest on God-necessitates the hypothesis of free will-Effective authority must derive from man-its mode of exercise compulsion-not to be confused with sovereignty-Sovereignty, the right to violate rights with impunity-Sovereignty only possible, logically, if God be denied—Attempt to subordinate sovereignty to moral authority impossible-The only possible mode of preserving moral authority and effective authority intact is to distinguish them, and derive the one from God, the other from men-Effective authority not necessarily immoral.

MAN

AN has received fewer physical advantages from nature than any other animal. For the protection of his organs he has an envelope as delicate as a rose-leaf, which can be rent by a thorn. The beasts are wrapped in wool or fur, the birds in non-conducting plumage. They have claws and fangs, and are well-shod, and move with agility, but man is tender-footed, slow in his motions, his nails and teeth are fragile.

Our first parents lived in a condition of marked in

feriority. They were naturally incapacitated from enduring the intemperance of the seasons, seeking and finding their food, and protecting themselves from the dangers that encompassed them. Shrinking from the bramble's straggling braids, flying before the wolf, limping over the stones, was man the lord of creation? The eagle reigned among the birds, and the lion was monarch among the beasts, and in the order of strength man was perhaps the fiftieth, perhaps the hundredth.

But in him was the capability of progress, and this very inferiority which martyred him was the kingmaker that finally crowned him.

No sooner did he perceive the danger of his position than he sought means to remedy it; the well-being that resulted from his efforts opened a field to his aspirations and intelligence. But the creative power distinguishing his race from all others, and giving it its immense superiority, has only devolved on him upon a condition.

Take a man, place him outside of all society, leave him to his own inspirations; he will do a little more than will an animal born at the same time, but he will not advance far in the study of the world and the appropriation of material for his use. He will begin like the first man, by taking the first step in civilization. If men were to succeed one another in isolation, each would be learning the alphabet of experimental truths, and none would be able to put the letters together into practical rules. The thousandth generation would remain within the limits of the first, as the generations of animals always reproduce the features of the first. Our race, adorned with a precious faculty, would be condemned to the labour of Sisyphus, who rolled a stone to the summit of a mountain, only to have to recommence his interminable labour, for it rushed into the plain through

his hands, as he thought he had succeeded in poising it on the peak. Sisyphus underwent this sentence because he had led a dishonest life, man would have had to undergo a similar doom for not having led a social life.

Society is the theatre, obligatory for the emancipation and development of the creative power in man. To reject social life is to deprive ourselves of the power of profiting by the experience of the past and the present.

That we may be able to profit by the experience of others, we are endowed with an instinct adapted to the purpose of drawing us into the company of our fellows;-this is the social instinct.

This instinct is not peculiar to man, it is met with in the animals, the ant, the bee, and the beaver; but it is in the human race alone that it takes a character of organization. Among most animals, after the first year, the parents and their offspring separate. The members of the human family separate also, but only that they may mingle with other men and form new families, which may agglomerate, and constitute in final synthesis the state.

Social organizations are the product of two ideas, the idea of right and the idea of authority; the former, man may possess and exercise in isolation, the latter can only assume function in society. In democracies and republics the idea of right prevails; in theocracies and despotisms that of authority dominates.

In considering the right of man, we have had to treat him as an unit, but the state of separation is not that of the primitive existence of men. On the contrary, the first man alone could have risen into being outside of all social relations; every other man has been born in the bosom of a family, and therefore finds himself in the midst of a society already shaped; and, being unable to grow up with

out assistance, the association has maintained itself, and the ideas of those educated in it have been moulded by the organization.

Rousseau and those following him, who placed the origin of human society in a convention, started from premisses not conformable to reality. A convention, whether general, like that which is understood under the denomination of a social contract, or particular, such as that resulting from individual necessities, is an act by which begins an union of individuals separated heretofore as to the object upon which they contract. It follows that every society which commences by a convention, presupposes the anterior separation of its members. But this supposition is inadmissible, as from the moment of birth, every man is attached by numerous links to his fellows.

The family being the first society possible for man, it is important for us to examine the relations existing in it, for therein will be discovered the original idea of authority unaltered, untricked out and gilded as it reigns on every throne.

A sentiment of a peculiar nature, and the need of mutual assistance unite man and woman. In soul, as in body, man differs from the woman; the mental constitution, the physical organs of the one, appeal to and suppose the other. "One of the laws which concur to form the first societies," elegantly says Montesquieu, "has its principle in the charm the sexes inspire by their differences, and in that mutual prayer which they are ever addressing to one another."1

The more intense this sentiment is, the more exclusive it becomes. This constitutes the distinctive character of the conjugal union, which is lost in polygamy. From this union issues a being deprived of all resources, cf all 1 Montesquieu: Esprit des Lois.

means of existence, and which would infallibly perish, if a natural instinct did not bid the authors of its days render to it the requisite assistance. Without the child, the domestic circle is destitute of a centre, it is widowed of its future. With the arrival of a child the love of the husband for her who has borne it augments, and transforming itself, becomes less passionate but more solid. The man feels himself in conscience bound to protect two frailties, and the obligation is his delight.

The cares lavished by the mother on her infant awaken its filial piety, the superior physical and intellectual power of the father impress on it reverence. It grows up feeling its dependence, and is attached to those on whom it depends by gratitude, respect, and love.

The need for reciprocal assistance makes the utility of the union more apparent as the child emerges from infancy, and it assists the father in the field, or the mother at the hearth.

All these motives woven together constitute that "family tie" which is so strong as to bind the family into a solid mass, which rejoices or suffers as one; and which has led to the mistake of confounding the child with the parent in the exaction of retribution, as, for instance, when a family is banished to Siberia because the father has committed a political crime.

In following the natural formation of the primitive family, we cannot escape the conviction that the relations which manifest themselves are not the product of man's free choice, but are a consequence of the nature of things.

In the family, from the first, the idea of authority has appeared. Protection and order are requisites of the family; and these cannot exist without recognition of an authority. Of authority there are two sorts, the authority of right,