Book 2, Chapter 10 — The People (continued)

A body politic can be measured by territory or by population; the right state has the proper ratio of each to the other. Too much land means trouble guarding it, inadequate cultivation, surplus production, and eventual defensive wars against those who want what you cannot use. Too little land means dependence on neighbors and the consequent pressure toward offensive wars. The state that depends on commerce and war for what its territory cannot supply is perpetually vulnerable — its existence is short and uncertain unless it grows or is absorbed.

The ratio is not fixed because land quality, climate, fertility, the reproductive habits of the population, and the effects of the legislator's institutions all vary. The legislator must therefore design for what the population will be, not what it is — he foresees, he does not merely observe. Mountain countries require more territory for less population; coastal countries can be denser because fishing supplements scarce land; colonial surplus is a release valve for overpopulation. The calculation must accommodate these variables before any fixed ratio can be assigned.

One additional condition supersedes all others: peace. The founding moment is the moment when the body politic is least able to defend itself — like a battalion still forming up. If war, famine, or sedition strike at this moment, the state is inevitably overthrown. Usurpers always choose troubled times to push through destructive laws that a people in cold blood would never accept. The choice of timing is one of the clearest signs distinguishing the genuine legislator from the tyrant — and the chapter ends with the observation that Corsica, a people that has demonstrated the necessary civic virtues, is still ready for a legislator.