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The dating of the composition of Two Treatises and the question of whether the Second was composed before the First
Professor Richard Ashcraft in his recent book, Locke's Two Treatises of Government, 1987, has decisively rejected the version of the composition and dating of Locke's book set out in this Introduction. In his view the First was written in 1680–1 and the Second in 1681–2, neither as early as 1679, in whole or in part.
Neither in this book, nor in his extremely detailed analysis of Revolutionary Politics and Locke's Two Treatises of Government, 1986, does Professor Ashcraft produce any new references in materials previously unknown to underwrite his new interpretation. I had hoped that in the exhaustive analysis, interesting and valuable as it is in so many ways, which he has undertaken on the books and papers of the radicals who surrounded Shaftesbury in the 1680s, who plotted against James II after Shaftesbury's death and who involved themselves in Monmouth's attempt to overthrow him, some allusion to the text of Two Treatises might appear. It was perhaps unlikely, considering Locke's cautious habits and his attitude to what he had written, that any such allusion would be in plain language. But one or other of those who associated with Locke might well have known and written about the manuscript de Morbo Gallico (see above, pp. 62–5).
This is a somewhat reduced version of the scholarly edition originally published in 1960 with a second edition in 1967, latest printing 1988. Much of the scholarly apparatus has been dropped here: the lists of books Locke had in his possession at times relevant to the composition of Two Treatises, the List of Printings, the Collation, the successive Forewords to successive printings. All these have been retained in the 1988 printing of the scholarly edition, to which those to whom final detail is important are referred.
Advantage has been taken of the appearance of the book in the Cambridge Texts in the History of Political Thought series to make some alterations not yet present in the scholarly edition. The extremely small number of errors in Locke's own text have been amended, though none of them alters the sense in any respect. The Introduction, its footnotes and the footnotes to Locke's text have been quite extensively corrected, but mainly so as to take account of work done after the second edition of 1971 until the later 1970s. As far as possible, moreover, all contributions made since then which touch on the facts about the writing and publication of Locke's political work have been taken into account. The book cannot, however, claim to cover the whole body of extant scholarship on Locke's Two Treatises, and for that reason a list of suggested reading has been added before the Bibliography.
General. The attempt here is to present Locke's ‘text for posterity’ (see above, pp. 9–11) from the Christ's corrected copy. It has been set up in type from a photograph of that document. The compositors have in fact worked from printer's copy prepared for the press between 1698 and 1704 by Locke himself and by Coste. Locke's hand appears only occasionally after the first few pages, and Coste seems to have been copying rather than taking his dictation: it seems possible that he may have been copying from another, very similar exemplar, the hypothetical second master-copy which is discussed below.
The decision to reproduce the Christ's copy, modified only in such particulars as were absolutely necessary, was the simplest, most consistent solution to an intricate editorial problem. The reader has before him the version which would have satisfied Locke at the time of his death, or something as close to that version as the editor can make it. He has also a record, complete in all essentials, but not absolutely exhaustive, of all the variants from that final version which were seen by Locke, and then rejected by him at one correcting stage or other.
Documents used. In order to appreciate why the editor has ventured to alter the Christ's copy in any way whatsoever, it is necessary to record the documents from which he has worked.
John Locke lived from 1632 to 1704, from the seventh year of the reign of Charles I to the third year of the reign of Queen Anne: 1632 was the year of the birth of Sir Christopher Wren in England, of Pufendorf and Spinoza on the continent. In the course of his seventy-two years Locke saw the worlds in which he spent his life, the intellectual and scientific world, the political and economic world, change farther and faster than any of his forefathers had done, and in England more markedly than anywhere else. He was as much of a mere Englishman as a universal genius could be, though he spent two critical periods of his life abroad, in France from 1675 to 1679 and in Holland from 1683 to 1689. He was as private and ordinary a man as could be expected of an individual who was to help to change the philosophical and political assumptions of Europe, but for two other periods he was a directive political influence in his own right and something of a public personality. This was between about 1667 and 1675 and again in 1679–82 when he was associated with that overpowering political leader, the first earl of Shaftesbury, and between 1694 and 1700 as the confidant of Lord Somers, the chief figure of the government. He died a famous man and he has remained one of the great English names ever since.
When men think of themselves as organized with each other they must remember who they are. They do not make themselves, they do not own themselves, they do not dispose of themselves, they are the workmanship of God. They are his servants, sent into the world on his business, they are even his property (ii, § 6). To John Locke this was a proposition of common sense, the initial proposition of a work which appeals to common sense throughout. It is an existentialist proposition, which men have not thought it worth while to question seriously until our own day, and it relies not so much on the proved existence of a Deity as upon the possibility of taking what might be called a synoptic view of the world, more vulgarly a God's-eye view of what happens among men here on earth. If you admit that it is possible to look down on men from above, then you may be said to grant to Locke this initial position.
From this common-sense starting-point he proceeds to two inferences, that we are all free and we are all equal; free of each other, that is to say, and equal to each other, for we are not free of God's superiority and not equal to him. If God could be shown to have given any man, or any order of men, superiority over other men, then these inferences could not be drawn.
In the First Meditation reasons are provided which give us possible grounds for doubt about all things, especially material things, so long as we have no foundations for the sciences other than those which we have had up till now. Although the usefulness of such extensive doubt is not apparent at first sight, its greatest benefit lies in freeing us from all our preconceived opinions, and providing the easiest route by which the mind may be led away from the senses. The eventual result of this doubt is to make it impossible for us to have any further doubts about what we subsequently discover to be true.
In the Second Meditation, the mind uses its own freedom and supposes the non-existence of all the things about whose existence it can have even the slightest doubt; and in so doing the mind notices that it is impossible that it should not itself exist during this time. This exercise is also of the greatest benefit, since it enables the mind to distinguish without difficulty what belongs to itself, i.e. to an intellectual nature, from what belongs to the body. But since some people may perhaps expect arguments for the immortality of the soul in this section, I think they should be warned here and now that I have tried not to put down anything which I could not precisely demonstrate. Hence the only order which I could follow was that normally employed by geometers, namely to set out all the premisses on which a desired proposition depends, before drawing any conclusions about it. Now the first and most important prerequisite for knowledge of the immortality of the soul is for us to form a concept of the soul which is as clear as possible and is also quite distinct from every concept of body; and that is just what has been done in this section.
1. The seeker after truth must, once in the course of his life, doubt everything, as far as is possible.
Since we began life as infants, and made various judgements concerning the things that can be perceived by the senses before we had the full use of our reason, there are many preconceived opinions that keep us from knowledge of the truth.1 It seems that the only way of freeing ourselves from these opinions is to make the effort, once in the course of our life, to doubt everything which we find to contain even the smallest suspicion of uncertainty.
2. What is doubtful should even be considered as false.
Indeed, it will even prove useful, once we have doubted these things, to consider them as false, so that our discovery of what is most certain and easy to know may be all the clearer.
3. This doubt should not meanwhile be applied to ordinary life.
This doubt, while it continues, should be kept in check and employed solely in connection with the contemplation of the truth. As far as ordinary life is concerned, the chance for action would frequently pass us by if we waited until we could free ourselves from our doubts, and so we are often compelled to accept what is merely probable. From time to time we may even have to make a choice between two alternatives, even though it is not apparent that one of the two is more probable than the other.
The conduct of our life depends entirely on our senses, and since sight is the noblest and most comprehensive of the senses, inventions which serve to increase its power are undoubtedly among the most useful there can be. And it is difficult to find any such inventions which do more to increase the power of sight than those wonderful telescopes which, though in use for only a short time, have already revealed a greater number of new stars and other new objects above the earth than we had seen there before. Carrying our vision much further than our forebears could normally extend their imagination, these telescopes seem to have opened the way for us to attain a knowledge of nature much greater and more perfect than they possessed … But inventions of any complexity do not reach their highest degree of perfection right away, and this one is still sufficiently problematical to give me cause to write about it. And since the construction of the things of which I shall speak must depend on the skill of craftsmen, who usually have little formal education, I shall try to make myself intelligible to everyone; and I shall try not to omit anything, or to assume anything that requires knowledge of other sciences. This is why I shall begin by explaining light and light-rays; then, having briefly described the parts of the eye, I shall give a detailed account of how vision comes about; and, after noting all the things which are capable of making vision more perfect, I shall show how they can be aided by the inventions which I shall describe.
The aim of our studies should be to direct the mind with a view to forming true and sound judgements about whatever comes before it.
The sciences as a whole are nothing other than human wisdom, which always remains one and the same, however different the subjects to which it is applied, it being no more altered by them than sunlight is by the variety of the things it shines on. Hence there is no need to impose any restrictions on our mental powers; for the knowledge of one truth does not, like skill in one art, hinder us from discovering another; on the contrary it helps us.… It must be acknowledged that all the sciences are so closely interconnected that it is much easier to learn them all together than to separate one from the other. If, therefore, someone seriously wishes to investigate the truth of things, he ought not to select one science in particular, for they are all interconnected and interdependent. …
RULE TWO
We should attend only to those objects of which our minds seem capable of having certain and indubitable cognition.
All knowledge is certain and evident cognition. Someone who has doubts about many things is no wiser than one who has never given them a thought; indeed, he appears less wise if he has formed a false opinion about any of them. Hence it is better never to study at all than to occupy ourselves with objects which are so difficult that we are unable to distinguish what is true from what is false, and are forced to take the doubtful as certain; for in such matters the risk of diminishing our knowledge is greater than our hope of increasing it. So, in accordance with this Rule, we reject all such merely probable cognition and resolve to believe only what is perfectly known and incapable of being doubted....