ishness of which all are ashamed. That is what
Montesquieu meant when he said that morals should correct climate, and
laws should correct morals.

The law, therefore, to a certain extent should correct national
tendencies, it should be loved a little because it is felt to be just,
feared a little because it is severe, hated a little because it is to a
certain degree out of sympathy with the prevalent temper of the day, and
respected because it is felt to be necessary.

This is the law that the legislator has to frame, and therefore he ought
to have expert knowledge of the genius of the people for whom he
legislates. He must understand both those tendencies which will resist
and those which will welcome him. He must know how far he can go
unopposed and how much he can venture without forfeiting his authority.

This is the principal and essential qualification for the legislator.

The second, as we said before, is that he must be impartial. The very
essence of the legislator is that he should have moderation, that virtue
on which Cicero set so high a value, which is so rare, if we look to its
real meaning, _the perfect balance of soul and mind_. "It seems to me,"
said Montesquieu: "_and I have written this book solely to prove it_,
that the spirit of moderation is essential in a legislator, for
political, as well as moral right, lies between two extremes."

Nothing is more difficult for a man than to control his passions, or
more difficult for a legislator than to control the passions of the
people of whom he forms a part, to say nothing of his own. "Aristotle,"
says Montesquieu, "wanted to gratify, first, his jealousy of Plato and
then his love for Alexander. Plato was horrified at the tyranny of the
Athenians. Machiavel was full of his idol, the Duke of Valentinois.
Thomas More, who was wont to speak of what he had read rather than of
what he had thought, wanted to govern every state upon the model of a
Greek city. Harrington could think of nothing but an English republic,
while hosts of writers thought confusion must reign wherever there was
no monarchy. Laws are always in contact with the passions and prejudices
of the legislator, whether these are his alone, or common to him and to
his people. Sometimes they pass through and merely take colour from the
prejudice of the day, sometimes they succumb to it and make it part of
themselves."

This is just the opposite of what should be. The legislator should be to
the