§ 1. This question is customarily proposed concerning the prince; but because I have undertaken to instruct not only the prince but also the senate and the people, I have had to dispute concerning them all generally. The question, taken thus, is twofold. For it is asked: Can the supreme magistrate do more than the whole commonwealth? Next: In what matters is the magistrate obligated to the commonwealth?
The first question is difficult and perhaps dangerous. For if you say that the magistrate can do more, you will perhaps kindle tyranny; if you attribute supreme power to the commonwealth, you will seem to reduce kings to order. Therefore a method must be found by which both the magistrate, who is the head and likewise a part of the commonwealth, may be assured of his authority and the commonwealth may preserve its own right.
§ 2. Therefore, first I answer: Every commonwealth which places magistrates over itself—whether it elects a king, as formerly the Romans and now the Germans and Poles do; or a council of the best men and a public council, as the Romans did after the kings had been expelled; or designates rulers from the whole people, as we read was also done at Rome after patrician magistracies had been shared with the common people, and as now the Swiss and the federated provinces of Belgium have for their custom—every such commonwealth, I say, whatever magistrate it elects, ought to bind him by the prescription of certain laws, to deprive him of power over certain matters, and to reserve that power to itself. Otherwise it will introduce over itself a dominion almost despotic, as we now see has been done in Muscovy and Turkey; we have already rejected that form of commonwealth above as destructive.
Next, no province in Europe now struggles beneath governments of this kind, nor do Christian princes or magistrates seem to affect such a form. Nevertheless, if there is some such commonwealth, as that of the Turks now is, there is no doubt that supreme power is in the hands of one man, and neither any one of the others nor all together can lawfully oppose themselves to him, any more than slaves can resist masters. But that is a commonwealth of workhouse slaves, not of citizens.
§ 3. Second, I establish this: In a commonwealth constituted by laws, supreme right is in the hands of the magistrate, both because he is eminent above all private persons and because in certain matters he can do more than the whole commonwealth. Therefore his power is rightly, simply speaking, the greatest; nor is tyranny to be feared from this, for there can be supreme power even if it cannot do all things. But that power is called supreme which, according to the laws, has no equal or superior.
Accordingly, I call the king greater than the whole multitude. For no commonwealth can cast down its king from the throne; and although they may have designated him by the freest votes, nevertheless, once they have transferred their power to him, they cannot revoke it at will. Next, not even the whole commonwealth is able to impede or delay the exercise of royal right and its legitimate functions. For it did not institute an imaginary or painted king, but conceded to him the sword and the use of the sword.
Third, the commonwealth cannot compel its magistrate to yield even part of his right, but is bound to preserve it whole for him and diminished neither by force nor fraud. Finally, in the administration of justice, the defense of the innocent, and the pardon of offenses, even if the leading men, the council, and the people dissent from the king, they are nevertheless compelled to follow, assist, and support him. For the whole remaining commonwealth cannot compel the prince to release a guilty man, abandon the cause of an innocent man, or punish according to the laws a defendant to whom he could otherwise show indulgence.
It is my intention to demonstrate the matter by an excellent example conspicuous for the firmness of government. In the Samnite War, Camillus the consul named L. Papirius Cursor dictator. He named Fabius Maximus master of the horse, and, setting out for Rome to renew the auspices, commanded Fabius not to fight in his absence. But Fabius, having obtained an opportunity to conduct the affair successfully, engaged the enemy and carried back a distinguished victory. The dictator arrived while the soldiers’ joy and congratulations were still fresh, threatened the master of the horse with death, and ordered him to be stripped and the rods and axes made ready. But the Triarii received and protected him when he implored the soldiers’ fidelity, and the army pleaded on behalf of the master of the horse, now also a victor.
Yet they did not move the severe and excessively imperious dictator. Ordered to appear the next day, Fabius, when he understood that he would have him as a still more hostile judge, fled to Rome. He appealed to the foremost of the fathers and hoped that through the intercession of the senate he would be immune from the dictator’s savagery. Papirius nevertheless persisted in his judgment until at last Fabius’s father appealed to the people. In Livy he concludes his speech thus: “Since in your presence neither the authority of the senate, nor my age, for which you are preparing childlessness, nor the valor and nobility of the master of the horse named by you yourself, nor prayers—which have often softened an enemy and placate the anger of the gods—possess any force, I appeal to the tribunes of the common people and appeal to the people. I bring as judge over you, who flee the judgment of your army and flee the judgment of the senate, the one body which certainly can and does possess more power than your dictatorship. See whether you will yield to an appeal to which Tullus Hostilius, a Roman king, yielded.”
But what did Papirius do after Fabius’s most odious speech? He still persevered in his undertaking and demanded the master of the horse for punishment. What did the Roman senate, the Roman people, and the tribunes of the common people themselves do here? The people began to plead, and the tribunes of the common people likewise, that pardon might be given to the youth of Fabius and that the punishment of the master of the horse might be remitted for their sake. Fabius’s father, prostrate upon his knees, entreated on behalf of his son.
Then indeed Papirius declared that he granted the condemned man to the people and the tribunician power. His words are: “It is well, Quirites. Military discipline has conquered; the majesty of command has conquered—things which had been placed in doubt, whether they would exist at all after this day. Q. Fabius, who fought contrary to the commander’s edict, is not released from guilt; rather, condemned for his guilt, he is granted to the Roman people, granted to the tribunician power as it pleads, not as it brings lawful assistance.
“Live, Q. Fabius, happier because of this consensus of the city to aid you than because of the victory in which you exulted a little while ago. You dared a deed for which not even your parent would have granted you pardon, if he had been in the same position in which L. Papirius was. You will return into favor with me when you wish. You will furnish nothing greater to the Roman people, to which you owe your life, than if this day has given you sufficient instruction that in war and peace you must be able to endure lawful commands.”
I judge Papirius’s severity in rejecting a suppliant rash and not to be imitated by any prince. Yet I judge that he acted lawfully and according to the laws. Neither the senate, nor the people, nor the tribunes could exempt from punishment a man lawfully condemned by the dictator; that entire popular and aristocratic commonwealth was a suppliant to the dictator. If that temporary magistrate was greater than the whole commonwealth, who would marvel that this is admitted in a monarchy?
But if in the administration of justice the prince depends upon the people or upon the senate and people, what will arise from this except appeal to the people, evasions of the laws, and eternal lawsuits? Next, the authority of the ruler must fall into contempt and ridicule if the people sits as his judge and renders void what has been judged rightly. Nor do I see how there is any monarchy if in every government supreme power is in the hands of all together.
I see that this also has assuredly been received through custom in the Roman Empire: although the German princes have established a measure and limits for the imperial power, they nevertheless preserve its authority in judging safe and intact. For this reason, when some of the princes attempted to diminish this right and endeavored to obtrude a certain other judgment of princes, they were gravely admonished by the Catholic princes not to pluck away and enervate the force, right, and gravity of the empire. They also exhorted the Emperor Matthias himself to protect the right of the empire whole, inviolate, and sacrosanct. Let it therefore remain established that supreme right resides with the prince. For although he is bound to his citizens by the laws and his oath, he himself is nevertheless the guardian of those laws.
§ 4. Third, it is most certain that it is useful and salutary not only for the whole people, but also necessary for the magistrate’s peace and long duration, that there should be many things which he cannot do, but in which a lesser magistrate and the people can do more than he. First, that he cannot impose new tributes or establish new taxes without consulting the commonwealth, which has been established most wisely in Spain, Germany, and other kingdoms. For by no other thing is sin committed more grievously, and nowhere do more grievous disturbances arise, than through the excessive and harsh exaction of tributes and taxes. Since this touches individuals, it is equitable that, with the commonwealth consenting, they should rather be given by willing persons than extorted from unwilling persons with curses and imprecations against the prince and the groaning of the poor.
Deservedly, therefore, in this matter a bridle is placed upon princely license and upon the greed of ministers who, while they profess that they are defending the prince’s fisc and treasury, seek their own profits by no unfamiliar arts. The fisc has many patrons and itself patronizes many.
§ 5. Next, it is most consonant with the laws of a good city that the authority of establishing and abolishing laws ought to be in the hands of the commonwealth, not of one magistrate, whether that magistracy is a principate or a senate of the best men. Since I shall treat this matter in the book on laws, I refrain from bringing forward the reasons here.
§ 6. Third, neither should it be within the power of one prince to select his successor. I think that this is observed in all provinces where the principate is conferred by election and votes; but where succession occurs by inheritance, this must be done by the norm of laws and by custom, not by the prince’s will. And if a controversy arises concerning the heirs, the whole commonwealth will resolve it. For it ought to be able to do more than a doubtful heir, since this is a matter of the greatest consequence for everyone.
The reason why, where a prince is established by election, I would not wish the judgment even of a moderate and prudent prince to prevail is this: every worst man will insinuate himself through dissimulation and fraud; he will remove by plots, slanders, and the sword his rivals or those in whom he suspects that there is hope of the kingdom. Augustus was uncertain concerning an heir, and the man whom he appointed would become lord of affairs. What slaughters, what tragedies did that power produce? Germanicus and his stock were removed from the midst by the arts of women, and at last a successor was selected from exile who was to reign with much blood. Augustus himself said that he grieved for the lot of the Roman people, which would be beneath such slow jaws. He nevertheless made Tiberius emperor, whether from necessity, as though unequal to the latter’s power, or from choice, so that he himself might be rendered more commendable and more desirable by the monstrous conduct of his successor. Nor was the condition of Tiberius better: after better men had been killed in various outcomes, Caligula succeeded him.
§ 7. Fourth, concerning peace and war also I would prefer the right to belong to the commonwealth rather than to the prince, although I see that this right belongs for the most part to kings, so that they are arbiters of wars and peace. The reason is that wars will thus be begun more slowly and ended more quickly. Princes, often greedy for praise and obstinate in vengeance, leap to arms for slight causes. Noble tribunes incite them; they set before them examples of Alexanders, Scipios, and Caesars and assail as though cowardly those who sit inactive at home and accomplish nothing. This is a great error of fierce human beings, as if it were not the greatest work of all to contain so many thousands of human beings and so many hundreds of wicked men in peace and to compel them by authority and fear to live without injury to others.
That praise belongs to beasts: that the one stained with more slaughters is the bravest. A prince is selected for preserving human beings; otherwise, when a prince is peaceful, a notorious robber will be called more glorious. But since very many of the best and wealthiest of the subjects desire and seek peace, and since it concerns them especially that their lives and fortunes should not be committed to the uncertain die of wars, equity demands that their consent also be sought. This is especially advantageous to the prince, for he will experience as faithful helpers those who already decreed the war beforehand.
But since during a time of war the reputation of princes is torn apart especially, and since it can never be otherwise—for whatever losses subjects receive from the enemy and from friendly soldiers, they impute them all to the prince—it must be diligently arranged that war and the expenses for war should be decreed by the judgment of all. When this has been done, the prince will not indeed escape all detractions and slanders, but he will nevertheless attain this: that he does not possess everyone as an adversary, but has some as approvers.
§ 8. Fifth, I greatly approve what has been established in many provinces of Germany, especially ecclesiastical ones: that a prince should not be permitted to contract debt without the knowledge or against the will of his subjects. For in this manner a part of the kingdom is mortgaged to outsiders, its strength is dissipated, and the necessity of a new tribute is imposed under another name while either the principal or the interest must be discharged. Indeed, I judge it more tolerable to come to the aid of the prince’s necessities by some mild tribute than to render the fatherland obligated to moneylenders and to expose the majesty of the prince to ridicule.
These are the principal things which are prudently reserved to the commonwealth as certain possessions of its own. There are others peculiar to many kingdoms: that it is permitted to assemble conventions of princes without the king’s command; to establish a tribunal independent of the king; that the king has no right in punishing the offenses of princes or nobles; and that appeal from the king to lesser magistrates is given. I shall treat of these matters in their own place. Now I teach only this: it is altogether useful that the power of princes should be so enclosed by laws that it cannot easily wander beyond bounds and pass over into tyranny, yet so free that it suffices for coercing the wicked and protecting the good and is a terror to enemies.
For many provinces, while they cut down the authority of princes excessively, have been overthrown; for wicked human beings, contemptuous of a precarious and, as it were, enslaved power, confound all things from top to bottom.
§ 9. The other obligation of the magistrate is discerned in the performance of his own office. Cicero said excellently and, as I think, from his heart, that he desired two things: first, that when dying he should leave the Roman people free; second, that as each man was disposed toward his fatherland, so also should he enjoy that fortune. He attained neither. For, when about to die, he saw his fatherland captive, and its defenders paid for their love of country with death and exile. Nevertheless, he showed us what sort of prince and what sort of citizen he wished: namely, one most loving toward his fatherland—the whole of it, I say, and the individual orders, individual parts, towns, villages, and human beings within that fatherland.
For even in private persons so great is love of fatherland that one fatherland embraces all the affections of all, as the same Cicero says in book 1 of On Duties. To demonstrate love for it, they imagine that Ulysses, the wisest man, preferred his fatherland to immortality:
“ἱέμενον τὸν καπνὸν ἀποθρῴσκοντα νοῆσαι ἧς γαίης”
Desiring to see smoke rising from the hearths of his fatherland.
If by nature nothing is more closely joined than fatherland; “οὐδὲν γὰρ ἐστὶ οἰκειότερον πατρίδος”; if no good man hesitates to die for the fatherland, if he will benefit it; if we ought to die for it and to stake and, as it were, consecrate all our possessions, with how much love and zeal toward it ought the magistrate, the prince of the commonwealth, to be affected? He ought not only to love the fatherland, to which he must furnish all things without payment, but that fatherland from which they possess so many pledges of reciprocal affection, and by which they have been carried up to honors, resources, and glory.
For the obligation of princes is most extraordinary and most grave. For, first, the fatherland has committed itself to their affection, fidelity, diligence, and justice. No one is so barbarous that he does not love the person whose so great love toward himself and so distinguished a judgment he has experienced. Next, the fatherland supports the prince most magnificently and sumptuously. Amid so many thousands of poor persons and so many myriads sustaining life by hard labor, all things are supplied to the prince most abundantly, not merely for necessity but for display, magnificence, and recreation.
Something is deducted from the industry of merchants, the vigils of craftsmen, the sweat of countrymen, and the hardships of miners for the prince to consume upon luxury and dignity. But it is not, nor ought it to be, the sentiment or will of the fatherland that it should confer these resources upon one or a few so that magnates may luxuriate from the labor of all, but that by their affection, prudence, labor, even dangers and death, they may render all and each safe and unharmed.
If a soldier is unwilling to discharge the duties of the camp, if he fears to stand in the battle line, the commander will withdraw his pay. But if a prince is guided by religion and conscience, he readily understands that he is supported by so great honor and such great resources in order that he may benefit his fatherland; that the royal retinue, purple, crown, conferred honors, splendor of the court, delights of the most exquisite banquets, treasures, and obedience of peoples are the pay for his labors, the earnest-money for his vigils, the alleviation of his greatest cares, and an incitement that he may augment his fatherland’s goods and transfer its evils upon himself, and that he may judge negligence in caring for it a most grave disgrace.
Aristotle says excellently in book 5 of the Politics, chapter 9: “Those who are to conduct the greatest magistracies of the whole city, and in whose hands is the supreme power of the commonwealth, ought to possess three things: first, benevolence toward the condition of the commonwealth; next, the greatest faculty for discharging the duties of that magistracy which they conduct; in the third place, virtue and justice in each form of administering the commonwealth, according to the form of each commonwealth.”
§ 10. I shall treat of the duty of magistrates in a separate book. Now I give this warning: the greatest care, industry, and diligence in every kind of affair is required in a prince. I judge that many princes otherwise blameless and just will be examined before the King of kings and Lord of lords in the most severe inquiry and condemned by the most sorrowful sentence because they did not conduct themselves in their office with the diligence with which they ought, and dedicated to amusements the time owed to serious business and the public safety.
For if, through the negligence of an advocate, a client has lost his case; if, through the sloth of a vine-dresser, the autumn harvest has perished; if, through a soldier’s drowsiness, a town has been brought into danger, pardon is denied in the lesser offense. What if through a prince’s negligence in the council chamber the whole commonwealth suffers loss—who will pardon him? It is easier to estimate than to expound the labors and miseries of a prince, if he himself understands the magnitude of his duty and the dangers of errors. It is wretched and full of innumerable cares to become a prince. For since individuals are bound to individual concerns, the whole mass of cares rests upon the prince—a mass burdensome even to a pagan prince, more troublesome to a Christian, who believes that he must prove to God the sedulousness and integrity of his duty.
It is necessary that those pressed by so great a weight of affairs either grow weary and almost fail in strength, or become stupefied so that they do not feel the gravity of their burden. Septimius Severus, praised by historians but impious and a monstrous persecutor of Christian piety, was raised from a common soldier through every grade of honors and labors to the imperial summit. When dying, as he reviewed all the deeds of his life, he said, “I have been all things, and nothing is of advantage.” I do not doubt that this is the utterance of all princes.
Let an aged prince come forward before me, one who has now transferred the scepters to his heir. Let him say how he was offended and despised by his own people; what offenses of ministers he was compelled to dissemble; by how many plots of enemies and how many slanders of the malevolent he was assailed; how often he was led into fraud; how importunately he was vexed. I do not doubt that, if he recounts the entire course of his life without disguise, it will happen that he himself marvels that he was able to endure so much.
But if there is also a prince to whom piety is dear, who emulates justice, loves the commonwealth, and knows that an account concerning all things must be rendered to God, with what horror will he examine himself? Did he furnish promptly, diligently, and seasonably, without harm and without price, all things which had to be furnished to God, to the poor, and to the rich? Kingdom, scepters, and majesty are benefits of God; the greater they are, the more grievous are the judgments established for those who sin. For the more indulgent the liberality, the more inexcusable is the abuse of largesse. Gifts are augmented, and the accounts of gifts increase. As much majesty as is added, so much servitude—and servitude of the most dangerous kind—is demanded.
I shall close this part with a sentence of St. Augustine: “In this do kings serve God: if in their kingdom they command good things and prohibit evil things, not only those which pertain to human society but those which pertain to divine religion.”