Two Treatises on Civil Government – John Locke

Foundations of Political Authority and the Limits of Sovereign Power

The Preface

We are at the opening of the work, where Locke establishes the occasion and purpose for writing.

The Preface begins with Locke acknowledging that the “great mistakes” of some rulers in the previous age have given him reason to believe that the “greatest part of Mankind” are not bound by nature to be slaves. He addresses the reader directly, stating that the work before them is a defense of the “just and natural Rights of Mankind.” Locke explains that the immediate political context for the Treatises is the publication of Sir Robert Filmer’s *Patriarcha*, a work that advanced the theory of the divine right of kings by tracing all political authority back to Adam. Locke notes that Filmer’s book had gained considerable influence and was being used to justify absolute monarchy. He declares that he will not only answer Filmer but also “lay the Foundation of Government” on a different principle altogether—the consent of the governed. He warns the reader that the first Treatise will be primarily a critical examination of Filmer’s arguments, as he must first “remove the Rubbish” of false theories before building a proper one. He further notes that the reader may find the argument “long and tedious” but insists it is necessary because Filmer’s errors were not trivial but struck at the “Root of all Civil Government.” The Preface closes with Locke observing that truth and error cannot stand together, and that if human beings are to understand their political obligations, they must first be freed from the doctrine of patriarchal absolute power.

This opening matters because it establishes that the entire work is a refutation of one specific book—Filmer’s *Patriarcha*—and that the positive theory of government in the Second Treatise is built on the ruins of that refutation. Locke is not writing in a vacuum but in direct combat against a specific political theology.

The First Treatise: Chapter I — The Introduction

We are in the opening chapter of the First Treatise, where Locke states his subject and method.

Locke begins by declaring that “Slavery is so vile and miserable an Estate of Man, and so directly opposite to the generous Temper and Courage of our Nation, that ’tis hardly to be conceived that an Englishman, much less a Gentleman, should plead for it.” He identifies Filmer as the man who has done so, and he states that he will examine Filmer’s system, which holds that “all Government is absolute Monarchy” and that the ground for this is that “no Man is Born free.” Locke then lays out Filmer’s argument in its most compressed form: all men are born into subjection to their fathers, who hold absolute power over them by virtue of Adam’s original dominion; this paternal power passes through inheritance down to the eldest son, and so on down to the present monarch; therefore, no man is born free, and the only legitimate government is the absolute rule of a single man who can trace his title back to Adam. Locke concedes that if Filmer could prove this chain of descent, then “the Right of Kings” would be unassailable. But he immediately warns that the difficulty of tracing such a title through thousands of years and through the chaos of human history makes the argument nearly impossible. He proposes to examine Filmer’s main propositions one by one, beginning with the central claim about Adam’s dominion.

“I should not have writ against Sir Robert, or had any thing to do with his Book, were it not that the great Noise which is made about it, shews, that it hath a considerable Influence upon the Minds of many; and that those who cry it up, do it with a design to engage some Men in the Belief of the Divine Right of Kings, and to flatter them into an absolute Dominion, which they could never have if they were not persuaded of their Title, derived from Adam.”

The clarifying point here is that Locke is not treating Filmer as a minor eccentric but as a serious political threat whose ideas are being weaponized by monarchs to claim unlimited power. The First Treatise will therefore be a demolition project, clearing the ground for the Second.

The First Treatise: Chapter II — Of Paternal and Regal Power

We are in the second chapter, where Locke begins his direct assault on Filmer’s equation of fatherhood with kingship.

Locke first quotes Filmer’s claim that “The first Government in the World was Monarchical in the Father of the Family,” and that the father’s power was “absolute and unlimited.” He then examines what Filmer means by paternal power. Filmer, according to Locke, confuses two entirely different kinds of authority: the natural authority of a father over his children, which is temporary and limited, and the political authority of a ruler over subjects, which is permanent and absolute. Locke argues that the father’s power is rooted in the generation of children and the necessity of caring for them while they are unable to care for themselves. But this power is not absolute. A father may not kill or maim his child, nor may he take the child’s property, because the child is not his property. The child is a separate rational being who will eventually come of age and be free. Locke insists that the power of a father is “nothing but the Power a Man has to preserve his own Off-spring,” and it lasts only until the child reaches the age of reason and can govern himself. He contrasts this with political power, which is a power over free men who have consented to be governed, and which is directed at the public good, not the private benefit of the ruler. Locke then introduces a crucial distinction: “Paternal Power” is a misnomer because it is actually parental power—both mother and father share in it, and it is not founded on the father alone. Filmer’s entire system, Locke suggests, rests on a false identification of the natural authority of a father with the artificial authority of a monarch.

This chapter is foundational because it separates the natural family from the artificial state—a separation Filmer had collapsed. For Locke, the state is not a family writ large, and the king is not a father. The two kinds of power have different origins, different limits, and different ends.

The First Treatise: Chapter III — Of Adam’s Title to Sovereignty by Creation

We are in the third chapter, where Locke engages Filmer’s argument that Adam received his dominion directly from God at the moment of creation.

Locke examines Filmer’s claim that “Adam was the Monarch of the World” because God gave him “Dominion over all the Creatures” in Genesis 1:28. He quotes the passage: “And God blessed them, and God said unto them, Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it: and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth.” Locke asks a simple but devastating question: to whom was this grant made? The text says “them” — it was given to Adam and Eve jointly, not to Adam alone. Furthermore, Locke notes that the grant concerns dominion over animals, not dominion over other human beings. There is nothing in the Genesis text about Adam having power over his wife, his children, or any other man. Locke then argues that even if we interpret the grant as giving Adam private dominion over the whole earth, this would be property, not political power. He writes: “God gave Adam the Earth and the Creatures in common to all Mankind; and therefore it cannot be a Property in any one Man, but a Common Right of all the Sons of Men.” The power to use and possess the earth for sustenance is entirely different from the power to command and govern other men. Locke points out that Filmer has conflated two separate biblical grants: the Grant of Dominion (Genesis 1:28) and the Grant of Government (which appears nowhere in the text). Adam had no political authority over Eve or his children at creation. At most, he had a kind of stewardship over the natural world, but this gives no title whatsoever to the thrones of men.

“‘Tis a very great mistake to think that the Supreme Power of a Commonwealth is a Power to do what it will, and to dispose of the Subject’s Goods, or any other thing arbitrarily; but it is a Power to make Laws, and to execute them, for the publick Good.”

The argument here is critical because it severs the link between divine grant and political authority. If Adam’s dominion was only over animals, and not over other human beings, then the entire edifice of divine right monarchy collapses. No king can claim his power from Adam’s original grant, because Adam never had the kind of power that Filmer attributes to him.

The First Treatise: Chapter IV — Of Adam’s Title to Sovereignty by Donation

We are in the fourth chapter, where Locke turns to Filmer’s second argument: that Adam’s sovereignty came from a later donation by God.

Filmer had also cited Genesis 1:29, where God gives to Adam “every herb bearing seed” and “every tree, in which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed” for food. Filmer interpreted this as a donation of “all things” to Adam, thereby establishing his sole sovereignty over the earth and all its inhabitants. Locke responds by reading the text carefully. He notes that the donation is of “every green herb for meat”—that is, it is a grant for sustenance, not a grant for rule. Moreover, the grant is made to “them” (Adam and Eve) as before, not to Adam alone. Locke then observes a curious fact: if this donation gave Adam political sovereignty, then it would also give sovereignty to all subsequent human beings, because the grant was made to Adam as the representative of all mankind. Locke writes: “If the Donation of the Earth was made to Adam alone, what becomes of the Title of his Posterity? But if it was made to Mankind in general, then it gives no more Right to Adam than to any other.” The passage cannot give Adam political power over other men because it does not mention other men. It speaks only of plants and animals. Locke drives the point home: the donation grants Adam use, not dominion over other humans. The right to eat food is not the right to rule a kingdom. Filmer, Locke charges, has twisted a simple story about human sustenance into a justification for tyranny.

The significance of this chapter is that Locke forces the reader to distinguish between ownership (property) and authority (government). Even if Adam owned the entire earth, that would make him the richest man, not the king of all men. Ownership does not entail political subjection.

The First Treatise: Chapter V — Of Adam’s Title to Sovereignty by the Subjection of Eve

We are in the fifth chapter, where Locke addresses Filmer’s argument that Adam became the sovereign of Eve because of God’s curse in Genesis 3:16.

Locke cites the verse: “And thy desire shall be to thy husband, and he shall rule over thee.” Filmer had taken this as a grant of political sovereignty to Adam over all mankind—since Eve was the “Mother of all Living,” her subjection implied the subjection of all her descendants. Locke responds with a series of objections. First, he notes that the curse is a punishment for sin, not a grant of authority. If it were a grant, then it would be making sin the foundation of government—a theological absurdity. Second, the passage addresses Eve alone, not any other woman, and certainly not all of humanity. It cannot, by any stretch of grammatical reasoning, be extended to cover Adam’s sons, his daughters, or any stranger. Third, Locke points out that the words “rule over thee” describe a relationship between a husband and a wife, not between a monarch and a subject. The rule of a husband over a wife is limited to certain domestic matters and does not include the power of life and death. It is not political power. Locke writes: “The Woman’s Subjection to her Husband is not a Political Subjection, but a Natural one, arising from the Condition of Marriage.” This subjection is not absolute—the wife retains her own reason, will, and property. She is not a slave. Fourth, and most devastatingly, if Eve’s subjection gave Adam political sovereignty, then it would expire with Eve’s death, since the grant was personal to her. Filmer offers no mechanism for transferring this personal subjection to subsequent generations.

This chapter is crucial because it shows that Filmer is misreading a specific domestic relationship as a universal political principle. The husband’s rule over the wife is not a model for the king’s rule over his subjects. Locke is slowly dismantling every biblical pillar Filmer thought he had.

The First Treatise: Chapter VI — Of Adam’s Title to Sovereignty by Fatherhood

We are now in the sixth chapter of the First Treatise, where Locke takes up Filmer’s central claim: that Adam’s sovereignty derives from his fatherhood — his natural authority over his own children.

Filmer asserts that Adam, as the first father, possessed an absolute paternal power over his descendants that is the origin and model of all political authority. For Filmer, fatherhood and kingship are essentially the same thing. He writes that “fatherhood” is the “ground of government,” and that “every king is a father, and every father is a king.” This is not a metaphor for Filmer — it is a literal, biological, and theological claim. Adam’s power as father is absolute, including power of life and death over his children, and this power passes down through the generations to all subsequent monarchs.

Locke immediately identifies a fatal ambiguity: does this power come from generation (the act of begetting) or from fatherhood (the relationship of parent to child)? These are not the same thing. If it comes from generation, then every man who begets a child has equal claim to absolute power — which would mean countless petty tyrants, not one universal monarch. If it comes from fatherhood, then we must ask what precisely gives a father authority over his child.

Locke then examines the actual relationship between parent and child. A child is born into the world, Locke observes, in a condition of extreme weakness and dependence. The child does not possess full reason, and therefore cannot govern himself. The father’s authority over the child is not absolute or arbitrary — it is a trust for the child’s benefit, a temporary guardianship that ends when the child reaches the age of reason and can govern himself. Locke presents this argument with precision:

“The Power, then, that Parents have over their Children, arises from that Duty which is incumbent on them, to take care of their Off-spring, during the imperfect state of Childhood.”

This is a radical redefinition. Paternal power is not a natural right to rule — it is a natural duty to protect and educate. It is limited in scope (it only covers what is necessary for the child’s preservation and development), limited in duration (it ends when the child is capable of self-government), and shared equally between both parents (the mother has equal claim to authority over the child during its minority). This last point directly contradicts Filmer’s exclusive focus on the father. Locke insists that the term “parental power” is more accurate than “paternal power,” because the mother’s role in begetting and nurturing the child gives her an equal natural claim.

The implications for Filmer’s system are devastating. If Adam’s authority over his children was merely a temporary trust for their benefit, then it was never absolute sovereignty. It could not be inherited as political power, because it was never political power to begin with. It was domestic authority, limited by nature and by the child’s developing reason. Adam could not pass on what he did not possess — he did not possess absolute sovereignty over his adult children, and therefore his descendants could not claim sovereignty over anyone.

This chapter is the turning point of the First Treatise. Locke has now shown that Filmer’s most fundamental argument — the identity of fatherhood and kingship — rests on a misunderstanding of what fatherhood actually is. By grounding parental authority in the child’s need for protection rather than in the father’s natural right to rule, Locke transforms the entire framework: authority is not a possession but a responsibility.

The First Treatise: Chapter VII — Of Fatherhood and Property Considered Together as Fountains of Sovereignty

We move to the seventh chapter, where Locke considers Filmer’s attempt to combine fatherhood and property as twin foundations for Adam’s sovereignty. Filmer argues that Adam’s title to rule is strengthened by the combination: he is both father of all mankind and owner of the whole earth.

Filmer’s reasoning runs as follows. God gave Adam dominion over the earth (the donation of Genesis 1:28) and also made him the father of all human beings (through generation). These two facts together, Filmer claims, give Adam an absolutely comprehensive sovereignty: he rules both the land and the people on it. No one can claim any right to property or any authority over themselves except what they receive from Adam. This is the foundation of what Filmer calls the “natural power of kings” — a power that is both proprietary and paternal.

Locke responds by first separating the two claims. Each must be examined on its own merits. He has already shown that fatherhood does not confer political sovereignty. Now he shows that property, even if it did, cannot be combined with fatherhood to create a stronger title. The two are fundamentally different kinds of things: property is dominion over things, while fatherhood is care for persons. Combining them does not produce a new kind of sovereignty — it just compounds the errors.

Locke then makes a decisive argument: even if Adam had absolute property rights over the entire earth, this would not give him political authority over other human beings. Property in land does not include the power of life and death over people. A man may own a field, but he does not thereby own the men who walk across it. This is a crucial distinction between dominion over things and political power over persons. Filmer conflates them, but they are logically and morally distinct. Locke writes that “Property, I have no where found it joyn’d with a Power over the Persons of Men.”

Furthermore, even if Adam had both fatherhood and property, these titles would still only apply to his own biological descendants and to the specific land he owned. Neither title could extend to the rest of the world or to later generations without some act of positive donation or consent from those generations. Filmer never provides such an act. He simply assumes that Adam’s titles pass automatically and universally — but this is an assumption, not an argument.

This chapter is important because it forces Filmer’s claims into sharper focus. Locke demonstrates that combining two weak arguments does not make one strong argument. Fatherhood and property are not fountains of sovereignty — they are natural relationships and rights that have strict limits. Political power must come from somewhere else.

The First Treatise: Chapter VIII — Of the Transfer of Adam’s Sovereign Power to Princes

We now reach the eighth chapter, where Locke addresses the mechanism by which Filmer claims Adam’s sovereignty is transferred to contemporary monarchs. This is the crucial link between Adam’s original rule and the rule of modern kings.

Filmer’s account of transmission is remarkably vague. He asserts that Adam’s sovereignty descends to his heirs, but he never specifies how this inheritance works. Does it go to the eldest son? To the most worthy descendant? To all descendants collectively? Filmer avoids giving a clear rule, because any specific rule would create problems. If it goes to the eldest son, then only one person on earth can be a legitimate sovereign at any time — but Filmer wants to support multiple kings. If it goes to all descendants, then everyone would be a sovereign, which is absurd.

Locke presses this problem relentlessly. He points out that Filmer cannot identify who the current heir of Adam is. No living monarch can prove that they are descended from Adam in the direct male line — and even if they could, there is no way to determine which of Adam’s many descendants has the strongest claim. The entire history of the world is a chaos of migrations, conquests, and mixing of peoples. Filmer’s theory, if taken seriously, would make every existing government illegitimate, because no current ruler can demonstrate the required genealogical link.

Locke then presents a devastating hypothetical. Suppose we grant everything Filmer claims — that Adam had absolute sovereignty, that it is inheritable, and that it descends to his heirs. Even then, the question remains: who are the heirs? Without a positive law from God specifying the order of succession, we are left with mere human conjecture. And human conjecture cannot bind the consciences of subjects. Locke writes that “The World would be all in disorder, and Men would be at liberty to set up what Government they pleas’d, if there were no other Title to Government, but that of Inheritance from Adam.”

The chapter thus reveals a fatal gap in Filmer’s system. He has a theory of the origin of political power, but no theory of its transmission. He can tell us where sovereignty began, but he cannot tell us who has it now. A political theory that cannot identify the legitimate ruler is not a theory of government at all — it is a fairy tale. Locke concludes that the whole edifice of Filmer’s argument collapses because it cannot bridge the gap from Adam to the present.

The Second Treatise: Chapter I — Of the State of Nature

We now enter the *Second Treatise*, where Locke sets out his own positive theory of political power, and the first chapter establishes the foundational concept from which all else follows: the state of nature.

Locke begins by declaring that political power is not paternal, not absolute, and not arbitrary. It must be understood from its true origin. To do this, he asks the reader to consider what condition men are naturally in — a state of perfect freedom to order their actions and dispose of their possessions and persons as they see fit, within the bounds of the law of nature. This is not a state of license, however. Though man has unlimited liberty, he has no liberty to destroy himself or any other creature in his possession, except where a nobler use than its bare preservation calls for it. The state of nature is governed by a law that obliges everyone: reason, which is that law, teaches all mankind who will consult it that, being all equal and independent, no one ought to harm another in his life, health, liberty, or possessions.

“The State of Nature has a Law of Nature to govern it, which obliges every one: And Reason, which is that Law, teaches all Mankind, who will but consult it, that being all equal and independent, no one ought to harm another in his Life, Health, Liberty, or Possessions.”

Locke explains that because all men are the workmanship of one omnipotent and infinitely wise Maker, they are his property, and are sent into the world by his order and about his business. They are made to last during his pleasure, not one another’s. Each man, therefore, is bound to preserve himself and, when his own preservation is not in competition, to preserve the rest of mankind. This duty creates a right: every man has the power to punish those who transgress the law of nature, for the law would be in vain if there were no power to execute it. In the state of nature, every man has the executive power of the law of nature, the right to punish offenders to the degree necessary to restrain and prevent further violations. The measure of punishment is not arbitrary passion but calm reason and conscience: the punishment should be proportionate to the transgression, serving both reparation to the injured party and restraint of the offender.

The state of nature is thus a condition of equality, freedom, and mutual obligation under a known law — but it lacks three things that make civil government necessary: an established, settled, known law (for the law of nature, though plain to reason, is often obscured by interest and bias), a known and indifferent judge (for each man is partial to his own cause), and an executive power to enforce just sentences (for in the state of nature, each man must be judge, jury, and executioner in his own case, which leads to confusion and disorder). Locke is careful to distinguish the state of nature from the state of war — they are not the same. The state of nature is a state of peace, goodwill, mutual assistance, and preservation; the state of war is a state of enmity, malice, violence, and mutual destruction.

The Second Treatise: Chapter II — Of the State of War

Locke now turns to the state of war, which he defines as a condition of declared or intended force against another person, where there is no common superior on earth to appeal to for relief. The state of war is fundamentally different from the state of nature: it is a state of enmity and destruction.

Locke argues that the state of war begins when one man uses force without right upon another. Whoever attempts to get another man into his absolute power does thereby put himself into a state of war with that man. The logic is clear: one who would take my liberty is implicitly declaring an intention to take everything else, including my life, since liberty is the foundation of all other rights. Therefore, it is lawful for me to treat such an aggressor as a threat to my very existence — to kill him if necessary, just as I would kill a wolf or a lion. The right of self-defense is absolute when faced with a would-be master.

“He that in the State of Nature, would take away the Freedom that belongs to any one in that State, must necessarily be supposed to have a design to take away every thing else, that Freedom being the Foundation of all the rest.”

Locke draws a crucial distinction between the state of nature and the state of war. Some men have confounded them, but they are as distinct as a state of peace, goodwill, mutual assistance, and preservation is from a state of enmity, malice, violence, and mutual destruction. The state of nature can exist without war — indeed, men living together according to reason without a common superior is the state of nature. But when force is used or declared without right, the state of war begins. The only remedy against the state of war is to appeal to the law and to an authorized judge. Where there is no such common authority, men are in the state of nature; where force is used without right, they are in a state of war.

This chapter thus clarifies that the purpose of civil society is to avoid the state of war. By establishing a common judge with authority to decide disputes and enforce the law, men leave the state of nature and enter political society. The state of war is not inevitable in nature — but it is always possible, and that possibility is one of the chief reasons men seek to unite under government. Locke emphasizes that the state of war can also exist in civil society if the government itself uses force without right against the people — for then the ruler becomes the aggressor, and the people retain their fundamental right of self-defense against tyranny.

The Second Treatise: Chapter III — Of Slavery

Locke now addresses slavery, a concept that Filmer and other absolutists had invoked to justify unlimited obedience to political authority. Locke draws a sharp line between legitimate subjection and unlawful enslavement.

Locke begins by defining natural liberty as freedom from any superior power on earth, and not being under the will or legislative authority of man, but having only the law of nature for his rule. Civil liberty, by contrast, is the freedom of a man under a standing rule of law established by the legislative power in a commonwealth. Slavery is neither of these. Locke argues that the natural liberty of man is to be free from any earthly superior, and to have only the law of nature for his guide. Civil liberty is to have a standing rule to live by, common to everyone in the society, and made by the legislative power erected in it. Slavery is the condition of being under absolute, arbitrary, and despotic power.

“The Natural Liberty of Man is to be free from any Superior Power on Earth, and not to be under the Will or Legislative Authority of Man, but to have only the Law of Nature for his Rule.”

Locke then makes a crucial argument: a man cannot, by his own consent, enslave himself to another, because he cannot give away what he does not possess. A man does not have power over his own life — life belongs to God, the Maker. Therefore, one cannot contract to surrender his life to another’s arbitrary will, because such a contract would be invalid from the start. The only legitimate case of absolute power is that which a conqueror has over a just enemy in a war of aggression — and even then, only over the life of the aggressor, not over his property or his posterity. The conqueror may kill the unjust aggressor, but once the aggressor has surrendered and given surety for his future good behavior, the conqueror has no further right. Slavery, as Locke defines it, is “nothing else but the State of War continued, between a lawful Conquerour, and a Captive.”

Locke’s argument thus demolishes the idea that political subjects are slaves to their rulers. The relation between a free man and his government is one of consent and trust, not conquest and captivity. Any attempt by a ruler to claim absolute, arbitrary power over his subjects is a return to the state of war — and in that state, the people retain the right to resist and defend themselves. Slavery is an unnatural condition, possible only as a consequence of unjust aggression, and it can never be the foundation of legitimate civil government.

The Second Treatise: Chapter IV — Of Property

This is perhaps the most famous and influential chapter in the entire work. Locke here develops his theory of property, which serves as the foundation for his entire political philosophy. The question is: how does anything become privately owned when God gave the world to mankind in common?

Locke begins with the premise that God has given the earth to all men in common. The earth and all that is in it belong to mankind collectively, for their sustenance and comfort. Yet there must be a way for individuals to appropriate parts of this common gift for their private use, or else men would starve in the midst of plenty. Locke finds the answer in the individual’s own person. Every man has a property in his own person, and this is a right that no one else has any claim to. The labor of his body and the work of his hands are properly his. Therefore, when a man removes something from the state of nature and mixes his labor with it, he joins to it something that is his own, and thereby makes it his property. It is his labor that removes the object from the common state nature placed it in, and establishes his exclusive right to it.

“Though the Earth, and all inferior Creatures be common to all Men, yet every Man has a Property in his own Person. This no Body has any Right to but himself. The Labour of his Body, and the Work of his Hands, we may say, are properly his.”

Locke adds two important limitations to this right of appropriation. The first is the sufficiency limitation: one may appropriate only so much as leaves “enough, and as good” in common for others. The second is the spoilage limitation: one may appropriate only so much as one can use before it spoils. Taking more than one can use is a waste and a violation of the law of nature, since the goods were given for use and preservation. Locke famously illustrates this with the example of gathering acorns or apples: the moment a man picks them up, he has mixed his labor with them and made them his own. The common right of others is thereby excluded, not by universal consent, but by the individual act of labor.

The introduction of money changes everything. Locke explains that men, by tacit agreement, gave value to gold and silver — durable, non-perishable metals — and consented to their use as a medium of exchange. Once money exists, the spoilage limitation ceases to apply: a man can accumulate wealth in coin without anything spoiling, and can therefore legitimately acquire more land than he can personally consume, because he can sell the surplus for money. This opens the door to inequality of possessions, which Locke accepts as natural and legitimate, provided it arose through labor and voluntary exchange. The consent to money is what allows the original community of goods to give way to private property in land and goods on a large scale.

The Second Treatise: Chapter V — Of Paternal Power

Locke now reconsiders paternal power — a term he deliberately retains but redefines. He has already demolished Filmer’s claim that paternal power is absolute and monarchical; now he builds a positive account of what legitimate authority parents actually have over their children.

Locke begins by distinguishing paternal power from political power. The power of parents over their children arises from the fact that children are born weak, ignorant, and without the full use of reason. They are not born in a state of full freedom, because they are not yet capable of understanding the law of nature that governs that freedom. Therefore, nature places them under the care and governance of their parents until they reach the age of reason and can manage their own affairs. This is a temporary authority, designed for the benefit of the child, not for the aggrandizement of the parent. Locke emphasizes that the power belongs to both mother and father equally — it is a parental power, not merely paternal, though custom has given the name to the father alone.

“Children, I confess, are not born in this full state of Equality, though they are born to it. Their Parents have a sort of Rule and Jurisdiction over them when they come into the World, and for some time after; but ’tis but a temporary one.”

The parental power includes the right to govern the child’s actions, to direct his inheritance, and to receive honor and respect from him. But this power ceases when the child reaches maturity and acquires the use of reason. At that point, the child becomes a free man, subject only to the law of nature and to any government he may consent to. Even after reaching adulthood, the child owes a duty of honor to his parents — a perpetual, though not political, obligation — derived from the benefits he received during his minority. But this honor does not include subjection to the parent’s will or to any political authority the parent might claim.

Locke uses this analysis to drive home the central point: paternal power is fundamentally different from political power. Political power is a power over free and equal adults who have consented to be governed; paternal power is a power over children who are not yet capable of freedom. The two are distinct in origin, duration, and purpose. To conflate them, as Filmer did, is to misunderstand both the family and the state. The father’s authority over his children no more proves the king’s authority over his subjects than the mother’s authority over her infant proves that women should rule the world.

The Second Treatise: Chapter VI — Of Political or Civil Society

We are now at the chapter where Locke transitions from analyzing the family to defining the nature of political society itself, establishing what distinguishes it from all other forms of human association.

Locke begins by observing that God made man “such a creature, that, in his own judgment, it was not good for him to be alone,” putting him under “strong obligations of necessity, convenience, and inclination” to enter society. He then distinguishes between several types of society: the conjugal society of husband and wife, the master-servant relationship, and finally political society. The first two, while forms of society, are not political. Conjugal society exists for procreation and mutual support, and it is temporary in its purpose; the master-servant relationship exists only over the servant’s labor and does not extend to the servant’s life or liberty. Neither involves that which is essential to political society: the power to make laws and enforce them with the sword.

Locke then defines political power precisely: it is “a right of making laws with penalties of death, and consequently all less penalties, for the regulating and preserving of property, and of employing the force of the community, in the execution of such laws, and in the defence of the common-wealth from foreign injury, and all this only for the public good.” This is the decisive definition. Political society exists wherever men have “given up each his single power of punishing the transgressors of the law of nature” to the community, and “by consent” have placed the legislative power in the hands of the community or its representatives. The key feature is that individuals have surrendered their natural executive power — the right to judge and punish violations of natural law — to the community as a whole, which then acts as the impartial judge.

“Wherever any two men are, who have no standing rule and common judge to appeal to on earth, for the determination of controversies of right betwixt them, there they are still in the state of nature, and under all the inconveniencies of it.”

This passage is the crux of Locke’s argument. A political society exists precisely where there is a common established law and a known authorized judge (the legislative power) with the authority to settle disputes. Without these, men remain in the state of nature, regardless of how many other forms of society they may be part of. Locke insists that absolute monarchy is not a form of civil society at all — the prince, having no common judge above him, remains in a state of nature with respect to his subjects, while his subjects are subject to his will without any impartial arbiter. “For he being supposed to have all, both legislative and executive power in himself alone, there is no judge to be found, no appeal lies open to any one, who may fairly, and indifferently, and with authority decide, and from whose decision relief and redress may be expected.”

The clarifying point here is that Locke has drawn a bright line: political society is defined not by the existence of rulers and subjects, but by the existence of a shared, known law and an impartial judge to apply it. An absolute monarchy fails this test entirely, making it not a form of civil government but a continuation of the state of nature, only worse because the subjects have no recourse even to their own natural executive power. The community’s willingness to submit to a common judge is what transforms a mere multitude of individuals into a single political body.

The Second Treatise: Chapter VII — Of the Beginnings of Political Societies

Locke now addresses the historical question of how political societies actually come into being, moving from definition to origin. He argues that all political societies began in a specific way: “the beginning of polity” was “in the consent of the people.”

Locke presents a historical narrative that is both realistic and normative. The first political societies arose from the family, not because the father had political power by nature, but because the father, as the most experienced and trusted member of the family, naturally became the judge of disputes among his children. This was not a political authority but a natural deference born of age and wisdom. “The first beginnings of government, in the world, were in the father’s natural authority, among the children; but this was not any political power: it was only a natural right of governing them, as they were not yet capable of managing their own affairs.” As families grew and multiplied, the eldest and most capable naturally assumed the role of ruler, but always by the consent of the community, not by any inherent right.

Locke then describes the transition from this natural, familial arrangement to formal political society. As communities grew larger and affairs more complex, men realized they needed “something more than the bare title of fatherhood, to secure them from the inconveniencies of the state of nature.” They therefore “agreed amongst themselves to consent to such a form of government, as they thought most convenient for their own safety and security.” The key claim is that all legitimate governments, even those that later became hereditary monarchies, began with the consent of the people. The first rulers were chosen by the people; the idea that kings ruled by inherent right or divine appointment came later, as a corruption of the original arrangement.

“Government is not to be founded upon the supposition of any natural subjection, which the father has over his children, and the prince over his subjects; but upon the consent of the people, and the trust they repose in their governors.”

Locke acknowledges that this origin by consent may seem to conflict with the historical record, since most governments we know of were not established by formal agreement. He answers that the absence of written records does not disprove consent. When men first formed governments, they were not literate; they acted by “tacit and assumed consent,” which was no less real for being unrecorded. Moreover, “the consent of the people” was originally explicit: “it was the people who chose their governors.” The evidence for this is that even in the most ancient histories, we find kings being chosen by popular acclamation, and “the people, upon any emergency, had a power to depose them.”

What Locke is doing here is providing a historical theory that supports his normative argument. By showing that all legitimate government originates in popular consent, he undercuts Filmer’s claim that government descends from Adam’s patriarchal authority. The actual history of government, Locke insists, shows that sovereignty flows upward from the people to the ruler, not downward from God through Adam to the king.

The Second Treatise: Chapter VIII — Of the Ends of Political Society and Government

Having explained how political societies begin, Locke now clarifies why they exist at all — their end or purpose. This chapter is the positive statement of what government is for, completing the negative work done in earlier chapters against Filmer.

Locke begins by summarizing the “inconveniencies of the state of nature” that drive men to form political societies. In the state of nature, each man has the executive power of the law of nature, but this power is uncertain, partial, and dangerous in practice. Three things are wanting: a known, settled, established law (the law of nature is unwritten and subject to每个人的 interest and bias); a known and indifferent judge (in the state of nature, each man is judge in his own case); and a power to back and support the sentence (the individual may not have the strength to execute judgment against a powerful offender). These three deficiencies make the state of nature “full of fears and continual dangers” and drive men to seek the remedy of civil society.

The great and chief end of men uniting into commonwealths and putting themselves under government is “the preservation of their property.” Locke defines property broadly here: “by property I must be understood here, as in other places, to mean that property which men have in their persons as well as goods.” This is the same broad definition of property — life, liberty, and estate — that he used in the chapter on property. The purpose of government is to preserve all three, because in the state of nature, even though men have these rights, they are constantly insecure in their enjoyment of them.

“The end of government is the good of mankind; and that which makes it good for mankind, is the preservation of every individual’s person and property, so far as is consistent with the public good.”

Locke then draws the critical implication: since the end of government is the preservation of property, government cannot legitimately act against that end. The legislative power, which is the supreme power in a commonwealth, is “only a fiduciary power to act for certain ends” and therefore “cannot be absolutely arbitrary over the lives and fortunes of the people.” It must govern by “promulgated established laws, not to be varied in particular cases,” and these laws must be designed for the good of the people. Moreover, the legislative cannot take property from the people without their consent — “the supreme power cannot take from any man any part of his property without his own consent.” This is because the preservation of property is the very reason men entered society; to allow the government to take property arbitrarily would be to defeat the purpose for which government was instituted.

Locke’s argument here establishes the limits of legitimate government. All political power is held in trust for the people, and the people retain the ultimate authority to judge whether that trust has been violated. The legislative power is supreme, but it is not absolute — it is bounded by natural law, by the end for which it was created, and by the consent of the governed.

The Second Treatise: Chapter IX — Of the Forms of a Commonwealth

Locke now turns to the classification of governments, though his treatment is brief and primarily concerned with identifying where sovereignty — the supreme power — actually resides in each form.

Locke states that the form of government is determined by where the legislative power is placed. If the legislative is in the hands of “the society of the people” acting together, it is a perfect democracy. If it is placed in the hands of a few select men and their heirs or successors, it is an oligarchy. If it is placed in the hands of one man, it is a monarchy; and if that monarchy is hereditary, it is a hereditary monarchy, if elective, an elective monarchy. Locke notes that these forms can be mixed, but the essential point is that the legislative power is the supreme power in any commonwealth, and its location determines the form of government.

However, Locke immediately qualifies this by arguing that the legislative power is not truly supreme in an absolute sense. Even in a monarchy, the legislative cannot be arbitrary — “the legislative, being only a fiduciary power to act for certain ends, there remains still in the people a supreme power to remove or alter the legislative, when they find the legislative act contrary to the trust reposed in them.” This is the people’s supreme power, which they never surrender entirely. They delegate the legislative power to a body of rulers, but they retain the right to judge whether that power is being used properly and to reclaim it if necessary.

“The community perpetually retains a supreme power of saving themselves from the attempts and designs of any body, even of their legislators, whenever they shall be so foolish, or so wicked, as to lay and carry on designs against the liberties and properties of the subject.”

Locke then discusses the relationship between the legislative and executive powers. The legislative need not be constantly in session — it meets to make laws and then adjourns. The executive, however, must be perpetual, because laws need to be constantly enforced. The executive power is therefore subordinate to the legislative, but it also has a certain prerogative — the power to act for the public good in cases where the law is silent, or even to act against the letter of the law when the law would lead to “a manifest public inconvenience.” This prerogative is a dangerous but necessary power, justified only when used for the public good.

The clarifying point is that Locke is laying out a constitutional structure in which all power is limited and accountable. The legislative is supreme, but accountable to the people; the executive is subordinate to the legislative, but has discretionary power for emergencies. No one in the government holds absolute power, because all power is a trust for the public good.

The Second Treatise: Chapter X — Of the Extent of the Legislative Power

Locke now specifies the precise limits on what the legislative power can and cannot do. This chapter is the most detailed statement of the constraints on government in the entire work.

Locke lists four fundamental limits on legislative power. First, the legislative cannot be “absolutely arbitrary over the lives and fortunes of the people.” It is bound by natural law, which forbids taking anyone’s life or property without just cause. The legislative is only “the joint power of every member of the society” given up to the person or assembly that is the legislator, and “no body can transfer to another more power than he has in himself.” Since no individual has arbitrary power over his own life, he cannot give such power to the government.

Second, the legislative cannot govern by “extemporary arbitrary decrees” but must “dispense justice and decide the rights of the subject by promulgated standing laws, and known authorized judges.” This is the rule of law: laws must be public, known, and applied equally to all. Third, the legislative cannot take from any man “any part of his property without his own consent.” The supreme power cannot tax without the consent of the people or their representatives, because property is the very thing men entered society to preserve. Fourth, the legislative cannot transfer the power of making laws to any other hands — “the legislative cannot transfer the power of making laws to any other hands: for it being but a delegated power from the people, they who have it cannot pass it over to others.”

“The legislative, or supreme authority, cannot assume to itself a power to rule by extemporary arbitrary decrees, but is bound to dispense justice, and decide the rights of the subject by promulgated standing laws, and known authorised judges.”

Locke then discusses the relationship between the legislative and executive powers. He argues that the legislative power should be in the hands of a body that meets periodically, while the executive power must be perpetual and always in being. The executive, though subordinate to the legislative, has the power to convoke the legislative and to determine when it should meet. But the executive is ultimately answerable to the legislative, and if it acts against the public good, the legislative can remove it.

The importance of this chapter is that it establishes what we would now call constitutional government — a government bound by fixed laws, limited in its powers, and accountable to the people. Locke is not arguing for democracy in the modern sense; he is arguing for a government that respects natural rights and governs by consent. The specific form — whether monarchy, aristocracy, or democracy — is secondary to the fundamental principle that government is limited.

The Second Treatise: Chapter XI — Of the Legislative, Executive, and Federative Power of the Commonwealth

Locke introduces a third power — the federative power — alongside the legislative and executive. This chapter refines the separation of powers doctrine that Locke has been developing.

Locke defines the federative power as “the power of war and peace, leagues and alliances, and all the transactions, with all persons and communities without the commonwealth.” This power concerns the commonwealth’s relations with other states and with individuals outside its borders. Locke notes that the federative and executive powers are “really distinct in themselves,” but they are “almost always united” in practice because both require the same kind of judgment and discretion. The legislative power, by contrast, requires deliberation and rule-making, while the executive and federative powers require action and discretion.

Locke emphasizes that all three powers are limited. The legislative is supreme but bounded by natural law and the public good. The executive is subordinate to the legislative but has discretion in executing the laws. The federative power is also subordinate to the legislative, but it must often act quickly and cannot be bound by fixed laws in the same way. “What is to be done in reference to foreigners, depending much upon their actions, and the variation of designs and interests, must be left in great part to the prudence of those who have this power, managed for the public good.”

“Though the executive and federative power of every community be really distinct in themselves, yet they are hardly to be separated, and placed at the same time in the hands of distinct persons.”

Locke argues that the separation of powers is important for liberty. If the same body that makes the laws also executes them, it may exempt itself from obedience to those laws and use its power to serve its own interests rather than the public good. The legislative and executive should therefore generally be in different hands. However, Locke does not insist on a rigid separation — he acknowledges that in some forms of government, the same person may hold both powers, as in a monarchy where the king both makes and executes the laws. But even then, the legislative power is still supreme, and the king must act within the bounds of the law.

The significance of this chapter is that it provides a framework for limited government: power is divided, each branch is accountable to the others, and all are ultimately accountable to the people. The federative power is a particularly interesting addition, acknowledging that foreign affairs require a different kind of discretion than domestic law-making.

The Second Treatise: Chapter XII — Of the Subordination of the Powers of the Commonwealth

Locke now addresses the hierarchy of powers within the commonwealth, making clear which power is supreme and under what conditions.

Locke argues that the legislative power is the supreme power in the commonwealth. It is “sacred and unalterable in the hands where the community have placed it,” and no other power in the commonwealth can be superior to it. The legislative is the “soul” that gives “form, life, and unity” to the commonwealth. The executive and federative powers are subordinate to it, because they exist only to execute the laws that the legislative has made.

However, Locke immediately qualifies this supremacy. The legislative is not absolute. It is a fiduciary power — a trust — and the people retain the ultimate authority to judge whether it has been exercised properly. If the legislative acts against the public good, the people “have a right to remove or alter that legislative” and replace it with one that will serve their ends. This is the people’s supreme power, which they never surrender entirely. The legislative is supreme in the ordinary operation of government, but the people are supreme in the extraordinary situation where the legislative has betrayed its trust.

“The legislative being only a fiduciary power to act for certain ends, there remains still in the people a supreme power to remove or alter the legislative, when they find the legislative act contrary to the trust reposed in them.”

Locke also addresses the possibility of a prerogative power in the executive. The executive may act without law or even against law when the public good requires it, but this prerogative is justified only when it serves the public good. If the executive uses prerogative to harm the people or to aggrandize itself, it ceases to be legitimate. The people have the right to judge whether the executive’s use of prerogative is consistent with the public good, and if it is not, they may resist.

The clarity of this chapter is essential: Locke has established a hierarchy in which the legislative is supreme in ordinary matters, but the people remain supreme in extraordinary ones. This is a profound statement of popular sovereignty — the ultimate source of all legitimate power is the people, and they can reclaim that power when their trust is abused.

The Second Treatise: Chapter XIII — Of Prerogative

Having mentioned prerogative earlier, Locke now gives it a full treatment. This chapter addresses the inevitable zone of discretion that exists in any government.

Locke defines prerogative as “the power of doing public good without a rule” — that is, acting in cases where the law is silent, or even acting against the letter of the law when the public good requires it. Prerogative is necessary because laws cannot foresee every circumstance, and “many things there are, which the law can by no means provide for.” The executive must have the discretion to act for the public good in such cases.

Locke acknowledges that prerogative is inherently dangerous. It can be abused by a bad prince to oppress the people. But the remedy is not to eliminate prerogative — that would paralyze government — but to trust the people’s judgment. “The people have no other remedy in this, as in all other cases where they have no judge on earth, but to appeal to heaven.” This is Locke’s language for the right of revolution: when the executive abuses its prerogative to the point of tyranny, the people have no earthly judge to appeal to, and must ultimately decide whether to resist.

“Prerogative can be nothing but the people’s permitting their rulers to do several things, of their own free choice, where the law was silent, and sometimes too against the direct letter of the law, for the public good; and their acquiescing in it when so done.”

Locke argues that the proper use of prerogative is for the public good. A wise and good prince will use prerogative to benefit the people, and the people will willingly grant him more discretion. A tyrannical prince, by contrast, will use prerogative to oppress the people, and the people will restrict it. “The old question will be asked in this matter of prerogative, *who shall be judge* whether the prerogative is rightly made use of? I answer: between an executive power in being, with such a prerogative, and a legislative that depends upon his will for their convening, there can be no judge on earth; as there can be none between the legislative and the people, should either the executive or the legislative, when they have got the power in their hands, design, or go about to enslave or destroy them.”

The crucial move here is that Locke places the final judgment of whether prerogative has been abused in the hands of the people. There is no institutional check that can fully control the executive’s discretionary power; the ultimate check is the people’s right to resist. This is not a recipe for anarchy — Locke expects that the people will be slow to resist, bearing with “several mismanagements and mistakes” before taking action. But the right of resistance remains as the ultimate safeguard against tyranny.

The Second Treatise: Chapter XIV — Of Paternal, Political, and Despotic Power, Considered Together

Locke now brings together the three forms of power he has distinguished throughout the work — paternal, political, and despotic — and clarifies their differences one final time.

Locke defines each power precisely. Paternal power is the power parents have over their children during their minority — a temporary power for the purpose of educating and preserving the child until he can govern himself. Political power is the power that a ruler has over free and equal subjects who have consented to be governed — a power for the purpose of preserving the lives, liberties, and properties of the subjects. Despotic power is the power one person has over another who has forfeited his life by aggression — the power of a master over a slave, which is absolute and based on the right to kill.

Locke insists that these three powers are “perfectly distinct” and cannot be confused without destroying the proper order of society. Paternal power is not political; it is a family relation, not a state relation. Political power is not despotic; it is based on consent and limited by the public good. Despotic power is not legitimate unless it arises from just war against an aggressor.

“Paternal power is a temporary power which parents have over their children, and which ceases when they come to the state of majority; political power is a permanent power which the community has over its members, for the preservation of the common good; and despotic power is an absolute, arbitrary power, which one man has over another, to take away his life whenever he pleases, which is a power that neither nature nor a state of war gives a man over his property.”

Locke then applies this distinction to his central argument against Filmer. If paternal power were the source of political power, then every father would be a king in his own family — but they are not. If political power were despotic, then kings could kill their subjects at will — but they cannot. The confusion of these powers is “the great mistake” that underlies all arguments for absolute monarchy. The father’s authority over his children does not make him a king; the king’s authority over his subjects does not make him a father; and neither gives anyone the right to rule arbitrarily.

This chapter serves as a concise summary of the entire Second Treatise. Locke has shown that legitimate government is based on consent, limited by natural law, and directed toward the public good. Any power that exceeds these bounds is not political but despotic, and the people have the right to resist it.

The Second Treatise: Chapter XV — Of Conquest

Locke now addresses the legitimacy of government established by conquest, a crucial topic for his time given the debates over the Norman Conquest and the rights of conquered peoples.

Locke begins by distinguishing between just conquest and unjust conquest. A just conquest occurs when one nation defends itself against an aggressor. In such a case, the conqueror has a right over the lives of those who actually fought against him in an unjust war — they have forfeited their lives by their aggression. But this right does not extend to their property, and it certainly does not extend to those who did not participate in the war. “The conqueror gets no power but only over those who have actually assisted, concurred, or consented to that unjust force that is used against him.”

Locke then argues that even a just conqueror does not acquire the right to rule the conquered people as subjects. He has only a despotic power over the lives of the aggressors, but no political power over them. Political power requires consent, and “the people have a right to choose their own form of government, and to set up what governors they think fit, when the conqueror has done with them.” The conqueror cannot impose a government on the conquered people without their consent.

“The conqueror, if he have any right, can have it only over those who have actually assisted, concurred, or consented to that unjust force that is used against him; and even those, he has no absolute power over, but only a right to their lives, as far as the necessity of the war requires.”

Locke is particularly concerned with property rights in conquest. Even a just conqueror cannot take the property of the conquered people, because property is based on labor and consent, not on force. “The conqueror has no title to the possessions of the conquered, because they are the goods of the innocent, and are not forfeited by the unjust war.” The only exception is the property of those who actually participated in the unjust war, and even then, the conqueror cannot take more than is necessary to compensate for damages and the costs of war.

The significance of this chapter is that it denies the legitimacy of conquest as a source of political authority. No government founded on conquest alone — including, by implication, the Norman monarchy in England — has legitimate authority over the conquered people unless and until they give their consent. This was a radical claim in Locke’s time, challenging the very foundation of many existing European monarchies.

The Second Treatise: Chapter XVI — Of Usurpation

Locke now turns to usurpation — the seizure of power that has no legal foundation, even if the form of government remains the same.

Locke defines usurpation as “the taking possession of the government without right,” contrasting it with tyranny, which is the exercise of power beyond right. A usurper may govern according to the laws, but he has no legal claim to the throne. He is a “private man” who has seized power that does not belong to him. The people are not obligated to obey a usurper simply because he possesses power — “the people are not bound to obey him, or to submit to his commands, further than they are satisfied by the circumstances of the case, that it is for the public good.”

Locke argues that usurpation is never legitimate. Even if the usuper governs well, his power is based on force, not consent, and therefore lacks the essential element of legitimacy. “He who gets into the throne by force, can have no right to it; because he has not the consent of the people, which is the only foundation of all lawful government.” The people may choose to accept a usurper if he governs well, but they are not obligated to do so; they retain the right to reject him and restore the lawful government.

“Usurpation is the taking possession of the government without right, and it is a crime against the peace and safety of the commonwealth; for the people have a right to choose their own governors, and to set up what form of government they think fit.”

Locke acknowledges that in practice, the distinction between lawful government and usurpation can be difficult to determine. Many governments began in usurpation, and over time, long possession can give a color of legitimacy. But in principle, the people’s consent is the only foundation of legitimate government, and no amount of time can make an originally illegitimate government legitimate unless the people have actually consented to it.

This chapter reinforces Locke’s central argument: the foundation of all legitimate government is the consent of the governed. No amount of force, skill, or good government can substitute for that consent. Usurpation is a crime precisely because it denies the people’s right to choose their own governors.

The Second Treatise: Chapter XVII — Of Tyranny

Locke now defines tyranny, which he distinguishes from usurpation as the abuse of power rather than its illegitimate seizure.

Locke defines tyranny as “the exercise of power beyond right, which no body can have a right to.” A tyrant is not necessarily someone who seizes power without right; he can be a legitimate ruler who abuses his power. “The same man, that is a king, may be a tyrant, if he uses his power to the hurt of the people, and to the benefit of himself, instead of the public good.” The distinction is between a ruler who governs for the public good and one who governs for his own private advantage.

Locke argues that tyranny is a violation of the trust that the people have placed in their ruler. The ruler’s power is a fiduciary power, given for the public good. When the ruler uses it for his own ends, he has betrayed that trust, and the people have the right to resist. “Where the prince uses his power for the destruction of the people, they have no remedy but to appeal to heaven; that is, they must resist him by force, and set up a new government.”

“The chief end of government is the preservation of property; and therefore a prince, who uses his power for the destruction of the people, and the taking away of their properties, is no better than a robber, and may be resisted by the people.”

Locke provides several examples of tyrannical behavior: a ruler who attempts to take away the property of his subjects without their consent, a ruler who interferes with the free election of the legislative, a ruler who prevents the legislative from meeting, or a ruler who imposes taxes without the consent of the people. In all these cases, the ruler has violated the trust that the people placed in him, and the people have the right to resist.

The crucial point is that the people are the judge of whether tyranny exists. There is no impartial judge on earth to decide between the prince and the people. “The people have no other remedy in this, as in all other cases where they have no judge on earth, but to appeal to heaven.” This is not a recipe for constant revolution — Locke emphasizes that the people are slow to resist, and bear with “a long train of abuses” before taking action. But the right of resistance remains as the ultimate check on arbitrary power.

The Second Treatise: Chapter XVIII — Of the Dissolution of Government

Locke now addresses the ways in which governments can be dissolved, both internally and externally, and the consequences of such dissolution.

Locke distinguishes between the dissolution of society and the dissolution of government. The first occurs when the people are conquered by a foreign power or when the social contract is broken entirely. The second occurs when the internal structure of the government is corrupted, even though the society itself continues to exist. Locke is primarily concerned with the dissolution of government, which can happen in two ways.

The first way is when the legislative is altered by the ruler. This occurs when the prince prevents the legislative from meeting, changes the method of election, surrenders the legislative to foreign powers, or otherwise subverts the constitution. “When the prince takes away the legislative, or alters it, so that it cannot act for the preservation of the people, the government is dissolved.” The second way is when the executive neglects its duties or acts against the public good — when the prince “acts contrary to the trust reposed in him” and ceases to govern for the preservation of the people.

“When the legislative is broken, or dissolved, or when the prince acts contrary to his trust, the government is dissolved, and the people are at liberty to provide for themselves, by erecting a new legislative, differing from the other, by the change of persons, or form, or both, as they shall think fit.”

Locke argues that when government is dissolved, power reverts to the people. They have the right to “provide for their own safety and security by erecting a new legislative” — that is, to form a new government. This is not anarchy, because the people remain bound together by the social contract; only the government has been dissolved, not the society. The people can therefore act collectively to establish a new government that will serve their ends.

Locke is careful to distinguish this from rebellion. The people are not rebelling against government when they resist a tyrant; they are defending themselves against a ruler who has rebelled against his own trust. “He who acts against the trust reposed in him by the people, is the rebel, not the people.” The ruler who abuses his power is the one who has broken the contract, and the people’s resistance is a just defense of their rights.

This chapter completes Locke’s theory of legitimate resistance. The people are not subjects to be ruled; they are the ultimate source of political authority. When government violates the trust placed in it, the people have the right to dissolve it and form a new one. This is not revolution in the modern sense of overthrowing society, but rather a restoration of the proper order of government based on consent.

The Second Treatise: Chapter XIX — Of the Dissolution of Government (continued)

Locke continues his analysis of the dissolution of government, now focusing on the practical implications and the conditions under which resistance is justified.

Locke argues that the dissolution of government is not a single event but a process. The first steps are usually small abuses of power — “a long train of abuses, prevarications, and artifices” — that gradually reveal the ruler’s intention to subvert the constitution. The people do not resist at the first sign of abuse; they bear with “many mistakes, and many wrong and inconvenient laws” before taking action. But when the abuses become systematic, and the ruler’s design to enslave the people becomes clear, then resistance is justified.

Locke emphasizes that the people are the judge of when resistance is justified. There is no impartial judge on earth to decide the matter; the people must judge for themselves. “The people shall be judge; for who shall be judge whether the prince or legislative act contrary to their trust? I answer: the people, in such a case, have no judge on earth to appeal to, but themselves.” This is not a license for constant rebellion, because the people are naturally conservative and slow to act. But it is a recognition that the ultimate safeguard of liberty is the people’s right to judge and resist.

“The people have no other remedy in this, as in all other cases where they have no judge on earth, but to appeal to heaven.”

Locke then addresses the objection that this doctrine would lead to frequent rebellion. He answers that it is not the doctrine itself that causes rebellion, but the tyranny that provokes it. “The true remedy of the inconveniencies of the state of nature is civil government; but when that government is corrupted, the people have a right to provide for their own safety.” The people do not rebel lightly; they bear with “great sufferings” before taking action. The danger is not that the people will rebel too often, but that they will bear with tyranny too long.

Locke concludes by reiterating the fundamental principle of his entire work: all legitimate government is based on the consent of the governed, and all political power is a trust for the public good. When that trust is betrayed, the people have the right to reclaim their power and establish a new government. This is not an act of rebellion but an act of self-preservation — the foundation of all natural right.