This chapter traces the ways in which Hume’s ‘Idea of a Perfect Commonwealth’ responds not only to Harrington’s Commonwealth of Oceana (1656) but also to Montesquieu’s Spirit of the Laws (1748). The large federal constitution that Hume proposed at the end of his Political Discourses turns out to have as much in common with Montesquieu’s understanding of modern monarchy as it does with Harrington’s vision for an equal republic. Indeed, there is reason to suspect that Montesquieu’s criticism of Oceana in his chapter ‘On the English Constitution’ prompted Hume to devise his alternative version of Harrington’s commonwealth. Hume adapted Oceana’s framework for uniform electoral districts and tiers of representation to the spirit of commerce and competition that he and Montesquieu associated with modern Britain. The result was a state with ‘all the advantages of both a great and little commonwealth’.

“Of the Populousness of Ancient Nations” is by far the longest of Hume’s essays. Although it does not always receive the attention it merits, it is a very important text not only in relation to Hume’s political thought as a whole but also for a full understanding of the intellectual history of the long eighteenth century as it partook in a set of wide-ranging conversations about the causes of demographic growth in which T. R. Malthus, amongst others, became engaged. This chapter first revisits Montesquieu’s position on the issue of the relative populousness of ancient and modern nations to show not only the true nature of the Frenchman’s views and that of the dispute between him and Hume but also the extent to which Hume’s reading of Montesquieu provided the basis for the Scot’s reflections on republics, liberty, the status of women and slavery in that essay and elsewhere. It underscores the centrality of demography to political debates of the period.

Although Europe deserves condemnation for the ethnocentric and racist notions and attitudes that flourished within it both before and during the era of imperialism, these were preceded, accompanied, and countered by a singular interest in and openness to other peoples and cultures. The marks of this openness were an exceptional interest in travel and writings about it, in learning non-European languages and translating and circulating texts written in them, in correcting their own forbears’ calumnies and defamations of others by exposing myths and legends for what they were, and by acknowledging the historical and cultural achievements of other peoples. The notion that Asian governments were despotic spread chiefly because those who adopted it feared the spread of autocracy in their own countries, and it drew forth harsh criticism. Images of other countries or regions, especially China and the Near East, became mirrors in which Europeans contemplated the limitations and narrow prejudices of their own way of life.

This chapter draws attention to the curious ways in which rights and liberty did – and did not – overlap in the context of eighteenth-century abolitionist movements. Many eighteenth-century anti-slavery activists initially focused on improving enslaved people’s condition through legal rights rather than granting them liberty. In Spanish and French empires, there were fairly elaborate legal codes restricting slaveholders from exercising especially cruel and arbitrary punishments or practices. The British Empire was in fact an outlier in its lack of any such restrictions. At the same time, slavery was increasingly regarded as unnatural and a violation of natural rights, a view that triumphed in Somerset v. Steuart (1772). Emancipation in the northern United States also granted some rights before liberty. Conversely, the Haitian Declaration of 1804 spoke of liberty, but not rights, and even liberty was a collective, rather than individual good.

This chapter addresses the relationship between rights and property and the role of each in determining the form of government. It begins by challenging J. G. A. Pocock’s division of the history of political thought into liberal and republican traditions, with the first based on a juridical conception of politics and the second focused on political participation to the exclusion of a concern with rights. David Hume, whose skepticism led him to deny that justice was a natural virtue, traced property rights to an appreciation of their social utility. In addition, like Montesquieu, Hume denied any necessary relation between the degree of political participation in government and the security of rights. Edmund Burke accepted that fundamental rights were ultimately derived from nature, but objected to how the French revolutionaries ignored the role of prescription in stabilizing justice. Ultimately, Hegel broke down the distinction between rights and welfare, drawing on Rousseau and Kant’s emphasis on freedom as the true source of justice and humanity.

This chapter proposes an alternative to the more economically driven historiography on French Enlightenment rights talk, by highlighting the role of philosophers, most notably Locke and Rousseau. It was their insistence on the inalienability of liberty that defined the philosophical discourse of rights in the eighteenth century. Locke repudiated the standard argument by natural lawyers (from Grotius to Pufendorf) that we could alienate our freedom, either by selling ourselves into slavery or subjecting ourselves to an absolutist sovereign. In both of these cases, we violate our right to self-preservation, which as a dictate of natural law is sacrosanct. Montesquieu similarly rejected Roman arguments for slavery in the name of self-preservation. And Rousseau insisted on the inalienability of liberty, through an operation (the social contract) that transforms natural liberty into political freedom. These arguments, too, informed the revolutionary understanding of human rights.

Chapter 1 presents the debate about republicanism before the French Revolution. Montesquieu played an important part in this debate as he formulated the influential “scale thesis” according to which republicanism could not be adequate for a large country. Montesquieu raised a set of challenges to would-be republicans in France (the “motivation,” “unity,” and “epistemic” challenges). The rest of the chapter presents theoretical resources in different republican traditions (notably Italian, English, American) that informed the French republicans on key issues (conquest, freedom, commerce, institutions). This chapter retraces the context in which the myth of outdated republicanism was born, but also how the elitist and martial dimensions of the republican tradition shaped French republicanism.

In book III chapter 4 of the Social Contract, Rousseau takes up the political principle established by Montesquieu in the Spirit of the Laws by correlating the form of a polity’s government to the extent of its territory: it is impossible, in his view, to answer once and for all the question of the best regime, without considering the suitability of regime types for particular situations. Yet democracy could still have a crucial advantage in Rousseau’s system: this kind of government confers most power to the people. A republican state seems to call for a democratic regime. This is why Rousseau’s response may come as a surprise: far from being the best form of government, democracy is the worst – or at least it is not suitable for a people of men, not gods. This essay reassesses Rousseau’s case against democracy. Why does Rousseau declare that democracy causes, so to speak, “a government without government,” and threatens popular sovereignty itself? This paradoxical claim needs to be explained.

When Rousseau published the Social Contract in 1762, there was no more illustrious authority on politics than Montesquieu. Rousseau draws on Montesquieu’s discussion of republics, but his departures from his predecessor are even more important. Notably, he criticizes Montesquieu for not seeing that the sovereign authority is the same in all states and that “Every legitimate government is republican.” The chapter begins with Montesquieu’s treatment of republics in the Spirit of the Laws to identify the features of classical republicanism that attracted Rousseau and also to reveal Montesquieu’s ambivalence about these ancient models. It then turns to Rousseau’s endeavor to revive republicanism by putting it on a new basis of the principles of political right.

This essay addresses the perennial question of the relations between the Enlightenment and the French Revolution. It starts with an attempt to fix the place of both the intellectual movement and the political upheaval within the wider currents of Atlantic history, highlighting the long-term transition to capitalism in Europe and the inter-imperial conflicts that accompanied it. A closer look at the French Enlightenment, in the next section, offers reasons for skepticism about the claim, associated with the work of Jonathan Israel, that in “radical” guise, the Enlightenment somehow “caused” the Revolution. On the contrary, the third part argues, it makes more sense to see the Revolution as having permitted a striking radicalization of Enlightenment ideas and aims, which remain central to any explanation of the way in which the Atlantic revolutions as a whole unfolded. A conclusion then returns to the ways in which the Enlightenment and the French Revolution have remained inextricably linked to one another, within the modern historiographical and philosophical imaginary.

The content of separation of powers is neither defined in constitutions, which usually do not explicitly guarantee this principle, nor in other legal texts. Its content cannot be circumscribed with precision. Several influential authors have dealt extensively with separation of powers. However, few of them were constitutional and economic thinkers. After careful analysis, but without claiming to be exhaustive, two major names stand out. The connection between reflections by Montesquieu and Hayek on the concentration of state power on one hand, and on economic concentration on the other hand, is illuminating and fascinating, but has never before been established. Aron also deserves a special mention in this regard, as he notably dealt with democracy and totalitarianism as well as competition in the same breath throughout some major parts of his work.

This chapter brings back the voices of the two young radicals who make a strong case against moderation from their different ideological perspectives.

In addition to serving as instruments of pedagogy and moral instruction, commonplace books helped readers assert control over an ever-increasing quantity of printed material. During the eighteenth century, they were a perfect tool for making reading truly “useful.” Inherently idiosyncratic, the evidence from commonplace books is difficult to generalize; nevertheless, they capture the moment when readers appropriated Enlightenment ideas to address their own concerns. This chapter focuses on Thomas Thistlewood’s commonplace books to track his thinking about race and slavery as well as religion. Initially motivated by the need to learn about plantation management, his reading expanded from planters manuals to works that both promoted and challenged theories of racial difference, urged reform of the institution of slavery, and contained dire warnings of slave rebellions. Thistlewood’s readings on religion combined a deep skepticism of Christian orthodoxy with anxieties about divine justice and a search for personal transcendence, which culminated in his enthusiastic approval of the deism expressed by Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s Savoyard vicar.

The approach to reading of Robert Long, brother of Edward Long, who authored The History of Jamaica (1774), was very different from Thomas Thistlewood’s, the subject of the preceding chapter. Yet Robert explored the same themes – race and slavery, religion – in his unpublished “Miscellaneous Reflections.” Like Thistlewood’s commonplace books, his reflections show that eighteenth-century readers were hardly passive vessels waiting to be filled with enlightened ideas. Their divergent readings of the widely influential Montesquieu prove that Caribbean colonists could read selectively, critically, sometimes opportunistically, even perversely. Robert’s manuscript notes also reveal an impatient and opinionated reader obsessed with the social dictates of “politeness.” Unlike Thistlewood, he primarily relied on his own experience as a planter to manage the enslaved workers on his Lucky Valley Estate, which also shaped his judgments of their intellectual and moral capacities. Like Thistlewood, he was critical of Christian orthodoxy, anxious for the fate of his soul in the face of divine justice, and restlessly sought personal transcendence.

The Journal de Saint-Domingue joined the Affiches Américaines in encouraging White male colonists to consider themselves members of an “enlightened” and distinctively “American” citizenry devoted to reason and the common good. While acknowledging metropolitan precedents for a general-interest publication, its editors trumpeted their publication’s novelty, claimed all of “America” as their journalistic jurisdiction, and stated their intention to generate original content, not just reprint metropolitan articles. The monthly Journal fostered the creation of American “taste” by publishing reviews and critiquing poetry by colonists. With strong ties to the local Chambres d’Agriculture and strong support from planter subscribers, it also published extensively on agriculture (Chapter 11). With the Affiches, it created a forum where colonists could appropriate the intellectually respectable terms of “political economy,” combining them with a robust rhetoric of citizenship to respond to criticism from merchants and metropolitan chambers of commerce; debate the reimposition of the trade restrictions of the Exclusif and proposed limitations on sugar refining; and seek to redefine the colony-metropole relationship.

Machiavellis last successor is Montesquieu, whose great work The Spirit of the Laws is analyzed and its secret design exposed for the first time.

In several smaller essays written in the late 1760s and the 1770s, Herder discussed German political history. In How the German Bishops Became an Estate of the Realm Herder spelled out his views on the ancient German constitution and the history of the Holy Roman Empire, whilst On the Influence of Governments on the Sciences, and of the Sciences on Governments returned to the political history of wider Europe, including Germany. This chapter discusses these essays as Herder’s contributions to the debate on German national spirit, highlighting the relevance of Möser’s History of Osnabrück to the development of Herder’s views on German history. I argue that Herder sought to understand the causal origins of modern European states, including, most importantly, the Holy Roman Empire. Like Möser, Herder was fascinated by Tacitus’s account of ancient German freedom, while being very critical of the Frankish polity. Both also rejected Montesquieu’s history of modern monarchy. Although Herder acknowledged some advantages of the constitution of the Holy Roman Empire, he was not a Reichspatriot. The 1779 essay restated Herder’s fundamental commitment to modern liberty and trade, whilst arguing that German imperial government was badly in need of reforms.

In 1769, on his voyage to Holland and France, Herder kept a philosophical journal and drafted some notes in which he expressed critical views of modern European monarchies as well as of Montesquieu’s Spirit of the Laws. Herder’s relationship to Montesquieu has previously been viewed through the prism of his supposed methodological divergence from Montesquieu. However, as this chapter shows, Herder’s criticisms of Montesquieu were filtered through his critical view of Catherine II of Russia’s Nakaz, or Grand Instructions, which claimed to follow Montesquieu. Herder suggested that there was a need for a ‘second Montesquieu’ which would explore in depth peoples’ distinctive ways of thought and mores. At the same time, Montesquieu’s example was to be followed in tracing the ‘civil history’ of laws, i.e. the ways in which different civil and political laws have evolved and influenced each other. The ‘relations’ in which laws stood with economic activities and social relationships were also to be specified. As Montesquieu had suggested, commerce played an increasingly important role in the modern era, whereas not every kind of commerce suited every kind of state. Herder sought to apply these principles when reflecting about the potential for reforms in Riga, Livland and Russia.

In the last decades, scholars have carved out Herder’s original and interconnected ideas about epistemology, metaphysics, philosophical anthropology, language, and aesthetics, situating his thinking in various strands of Enlightenment philosophy, natural history and hermeneutics. Several recent studies have also dissected Herder’s moral and political ideas. However, Herder’s views on modern European politics and the evolution of his political thought have remained largely unexplored. In particular, his self-avowed ‘German patriotism has not been studied at any depth. At the same time, a debate on Herder’s relationship to nationalism still lingers on. This study proposes that reconstructing Herder’s serial contributions to eighteenth-century discussions on the moral psychological foundations of, and the possible reforms in, modern societies provides a key to understanding the evolution of his political thought, including his relationship to nationalism. In engaging with thinkers such as Rousseau, Montesquieu, Möser, Ferguson, and Kant, Herder addressed questions on how to close the gap between moral principles and action, as well as law and ethics, in contemporary societies.