The one encourages
intercourse, the other creates distinctions. The first is a patron,
the last a punisher.

Society in every state is a blessing, but government even in its
best state is but a necessary evil; in its worst state an intolerable
one; for when we suffer, or are exposed to the same miseries BY A
GOVERNMENT, which we might expect in a country WITHOUT GOVERNMENT,
our calamity is heightened by reflecting that we furnish the means by
which we suffer. Government, like dress, is the badge of lost
innocence; the palaces of kings are built on the ruins of the bowers
of paradise. For were the impulses of conscience clear, uniform, and
irresistibly obeyed, man would need no other lawgiver; but that not
being the case, he finds it necessary to surrender up a part of his
property to furnish means for the protection of the rest; and this he
is induced to do by the same prudence which in every other case
advises him out of two evils to choose the least. WHEREFORE,
security being the true design and end of government, it unanswerably
follows that whatever FORM thereof appears most likely to ensure it
to us, with the least expence and greatest benefit, is preferable to
all others.

In order to gain a clear and just idea of the design and end of
government, let us suppose a small number of persons settled in some
sequestered part of the earth, unconnected with the rest, they will
then represent the first peopling of any country, or of the world. In
this state of natural liberty, society will be their first thought. A
thousand motives will excite them thereto, the strength of one man is
so unequal to his wants, and his mind so unfitted for perpetual
solitude, that he is soon obliged to seek assistance and relief of
another, who in his turn requires the same. Four or five united would
be able to raise a tolerable dwelling in the midst of a wilderness,
but ONE man might labour out the common period of life without
accomplishing any thing; when he had felled his timber he could not
remove it, nor erect it after it was removed; hunger in the mean time
would urge him from his work, and every different want call him a
different way. Disease, nay even misfortune would be death, for
though neither might be mortal, yet either would disable him from
living, and reduce him to a state in which he might rather be said to
perish than to die.

This necessity, like a gravitating power, would soon form our newly
arrived emigrants into