An Essay on the History of Civil Society, 8th edition | Page 3

to itself, and without the aid of any foreign direction? we are to look for
our answer in the history of mankind. Particular experiments which
have been found so useful in establishing the principles of other
sciences, could probably, on this subject, teach us nothing important, or
new: we are to take the history of every active being from his conduct
in the situation to which he is formed, not from his appearance in any
forced or uncommon condition; a wild man therefore, caught in the
woods, where he had always lived apart from his species, is a singular
instance, not a specimen of any general character. As the anatomy of an
eye which had never received the impressions of light, or that of an ear
which had never felt the impulse of sounds, would probably exhibit
defects in the very structure of the organs themselves, arising from their
not being applied to their proper functions; so any particular case of
this sort would only show in what degree the powers of apprehension
and sentiment could exist where they had not been employed, and what
would be the defects and imbecilities of a heart in which the emotions
that arise in society had never been felt.
Mankind are to be taken in groupes, as they, have always subsisted.
The history of the individual is but a detail of the sentiments and the
thoughts he has entertained in the view of his species: and every
experiment relative to this subject should be made with entire societies,
not with single men. We have every reason, however, to believe, that in
the case of such an experiment made, we shall suppose, with a colony
of children transplanted from the nursery, and left to form a society
apart, untaught, and undisciplined, we should only have the same
things repeated, which, in so many different parts of the earth, have
been transacted already. The members of our little society would feed
and sleep, would herd together and play, would have a language of
their own, would quarrel and divide, would be to one another the most
important objects of the scene, and, in the ardour of their friendships

and competitions, would overlook their personal danger, and suspend
the care of their self-preservation. Has not the human race been planted
like the colony in question? Who has directed their course? whose
instruction have they heard? or whose example have they followed?
Nature, therefore, we shall presume, having given to every animal its
mode of existence, its dispositions and manner of life, has dealt equally
with the human race; and the natural historian who would collect the
properties of this species, may fill up every article now as well as he
could have done in any former age. The attainments of the parent do
not descend in the blood of his children, nor is the progress of man to
be considered as a physical mutation of the species. The individual, in
every age, has the same race to run from infancy to manhood, and
every infant, or ignorant person, now, is a model of what man was in
his original state. He enters on his career with advantages peculiar to
his age; but his natural talent is probably the same. The use and
application of this talent is changing, and men continue their works in
progression through many ages together: they build on foundations laid
by their ancestors; and in a succession of years, tend to a perfection in
the application of their faculties, to which the aid of long experience is
required, and to which many generations must have combined their
endeavours. We observe the progress they have made; we distinctly
enumerate many of its steps; we can trace them back to a distant
antiquity, of which no record remains, nor any monument is preserved,
to inform us what were the openings of this wonderful scene. The
consequence is, that instead of attending to the character of our species,
were the particulars are vouched by the surest authority, we endeavour
to trace it through ages and scenes unknown; and, instead of supposing
that the beginning of our story was nearly of a piece with the sequel, we
think ourselves warranted to reject every circumstance of our present
condition and frame, as adventitious, and foreign to our nature. The
progress of mankind, from a supposed state of animal sensibility, to the
attainment of reason, to the use of language, and to the habit of society,
has been accordingly painted with a force of imagination, and its steps
have been marked with a boldness of invention, that would tempt us to
admit, among the materials of history, the suggestions of fancy, and to
receive, perhaps, as the model of our nature in its original state, some
of the animals