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Tous les autres exemplaires originaux sont filmds en commenpant par la premidre page qui comporte une empreinte d'impression ou d'illustration et en terminant par la dernidre page qui comporte une telle empreinte. Un des symboles suivants apparaltra sur la dernidre image de cheque microfiche, selon le cas: le symbols — »-signifie "A SUIVRE", le symbole V signifie "FIN". Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre filmds d des taux de reduction diff^rents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour Stre reproduit en un seul cliche, il est filmd d partir de Tangle sup6rieur gauche, de gauche d droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images n^cessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mdthode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 I qm^ 'V A Political Creed; Embracing Some Ascertained Truths IN SOCIOLOGY ff POLITICS. AN ANSWER TO H, GEORGE'S "PROGRESS p.^' POVERTY." BY G. MANIGAULT, Formerly of South Carolina. NEW YORK: Wynkoop & Hallenbeck, Printeks, 121 Fulton Street. X884. Hk ^1 %[SS Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the yeivr 188 1, by G. Manigault, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. PREFACE. Not wisliing to make a hooh^ I have compressed this into as compact a space as is compatible with a compre- hensive treatment of the subject. I have called it an answer to " Progress and Poverty," by Henry Greorge ; but it was written before I had seen his book, which I have read but lately. For if one be true, the other must be false. As to that, let the reaOBr decide. G. M. A POLITICAL CREED, EMBRACINQ Some Ascertainei Trntls in Sociology ani Politics. From before the days of Plato and Aristotle down to our own time, many of the most acute minds have been striving to discover, and to explain, the principles on which human society and political organizations are, and ought to be, based. Yet, to this day, in the different schools of politics and social science, the most opposite and incompatible views are maintained by numerous and able advocates. How far, then, is it possible to draw out, from the results of experience and reason, a con- nected system of principles in these sciences, so well founded and obvious as to command the general assent of right-thinking men ? Setting aside all the authority we might derive from revealed, and, as far as possible, from natural religion, in proof that society and government are not merely of man's device, I will enter on a search after the ascer- tained and admitted truths in sociology and politics, and endeavor to trace the connection of these truths with, and their dependence on, each other. 1 t • f 1 ■ ■ ■ 1 ; 1 i - 6 I. In tliis mysterious and puzzling world iu which we iind ourselves existing, what means have we of ascer- taining the truths which should enlighten and guide lis? We Iind ourselves to be organized beings, endowed not only with certain appetites, instincts, and powers of ac- tion ; but, also, with the means of observing the j)he- nomena surrounding and pressing upon us ; and, more- over, with a ca2)acity and a propensity to draw inferences from these phenomena, when collected and compared with each other. Thence we arrive at conclusions, which we take to be laws regulating the occurrence and effects of these phenomena. The want of leisure and of experience make this slow work. Yet we gradually acquire some knowledge of the nature of our surroundings. We make frequent mis- takes, indeed, which we have to correct by further, and more careful observation ; and we make some real prog- ress in knowledge. We discover that, besides the material world that sur- rounds us, there are intellectual truths which spring from our observation of it, embracing and explaining it ; which truths may be brought to bear upon, and, in a measure, direct and control matter. We, moreover, discover that, while the mass of mate- rial objects with which we come in contact are organized beings, the law of that Nature which gave them existence does not endow them with permanence. Yet we see that it provides, by some means, for maintaining and re- placing its productions as they pass away, filling up the gaps among its organized beings with a succession of be- ings similar to those that are passing away. This is one broad general law of Nature, applying to organized crea- tures, which we arrive at with a certainty that shuts out all doubt. Further observation shows us that Nature attains this end by stamping on her organized creatures the relations of sex. All animals and all plants partake of these char- acteristics in one form or another. In tlie case of j^lants these relations are not so simple and obvious. But we soon learn that animals are divided into male and female, in various proportions. Thus we soon become familiar with another compre- hensive law of Nature : that organized life is maintained, not by the permanence of the individuals, but by their reproducing offspring like themselves, and that this re- production is brought about through the agency of the division of each class of animals, and even of plants, into two sexes, male and female. Thus, we are beginning to master some of the great laws of Nature, by which she regulates the world we live in. When we turn our attention to our own race we see an explanation of the instinct which usually leads to the mutual choice and companionship of one man and one woman : that is, to life-long, monogamous marriage, and to the many domestic and social proprieties springing from it. Many facts prove that this is the design of Nature. 1. In all countries and ages there is an approach to equality in the number of male and female births. Yet there is always, as far as we know, a small excess of male births over the female. Why is this provided ? As men, from their occupations and enterprises, are more exposed than women to be cut off by accidental and violent deaths, especially in boyhood and early manhood, this 8 kk slight excess in the birth of males looks very like an ex- press design in Nature to provide for nioiiogunious niiir- riage by equalizing tlie number of the two sexes. The proportions of the two sexes in humun births vary some- what : from thirteen males to twelve females, to about twenty-five males to twenty-four females. The causes of these varying proportions, we believe, have not been as- certained. 2. Unlike other animals, the offspring of mankind need the care and support of both parents for a long term of years. Thus the natural claim of both wife and children for maintenance, and on the property acquired, is obvious, and points to a life-long marriage, and sug- gests the obligation of monogamy. 3. The analogy of the instincts of not a few animals, in their unions, proves that monogamous marriage may be strictly according to Nature. Thus, while in the hive of the honey-bee, there are thousands of workers, which are neuters, hundreds of drones, who are males, and only one female, the queen bee, we find, on the other hand, that the capreolus, or roe-buck, the pigeon, the goose, the ostrich, and many other animals, are strictly monogamous in their unions. The more we investigate this point, the more obvious does it become that human society naturally originates in the monogamous marriage, and is based on the family springing from it. Where monogamous marriage is not the foundation of tlie family and of society, could we look back far enough, we would find out that some peculiar circumstances, some unnatural causes, have dis- turbed the order of Nature, driving the human race to polygamy or polyandry. However the human race may have originated, we 9 know tliat man does not now come into the world a solitary heini i >i -l-l« i i ' )' ' i ss 10 labor, and perseverance ; and, moreover, are often attended with exhausting exertions, uncertain success, and even suffering '-nd danger to those who make them. This out- lay of labor, skill, and hazard, becoming inextricably in- corporated with our acquisitions, originates our propri- etary right ; that is, our right to exclude from the benefit of our acquisitions, those who have made no such expendi- ture of their energies on the materials thus brought into our possession or laid up for our use. Thus, all value and utility, being the result of the labor of individuals, comes into existence in the possession of, and as the property of, individuals. Until there be prop- erty, there can be neither robbery nor theft. As soon as property comes into existence, robbery and theft become possible, and must be guarded against. In those cases, where the acquisition is the result of combined labor and united exertions, the undertaking is not com- plete until each one has assigned to him his share of the result. Thus proprietary right at once furnishes the motive for, and the reward of, our exertions to maintain and to better our condition. III. Natube makes similar provision for supplying the wants of animals ; not feeding them, or sheltering them, but putting within their reach the means of feeding and sheltering themselves. Moreover, man's earliest education was the observation of the instincts of animals ; especially as shown in procuring their food, and securing tKeir safety. The study of the animal kingdom affords us abundant proofs that property is deeply founded in nature, and that 11 animals, by instinct, claim proprietary rights which are resjiected by others of their own species. The nests built by birds become their property, undisputed by others of their kind, and usually by those of other kinds. So general is this respect paid to proprietorship in the nest, that naturalists have been long surprised and puzzled at the intrusive habit of the cuckoo as an anomaly in Nature. For the cuckoo, laying a very small ^^g^ for a bird of its size, often deposits one in the nest of some suiall bird. When tins Q^g is hatched, the young cuckoo rapidly out-grows its companions, to whom its unwelcome company is often fatal. Shakespeare makes the young cuckoo the type of ingratitude, expressing it in the fol- lowing lines : " The bcdge-sparrow fed tlie cuclvoo so long, That it had its head bitten off by its youug." In the case of the eagle and some other birds, this prop- erty in the nest apparently continues, not only during the breeding season, but for life. So the burrows and dens of many quadrupeds, beasts of prey, and others, continue in their possession for years, undisturbed by others of their own kind. The squirrel makes a store- house of his hollow tree, providing against the winter's dearth ; and the hamster-rat burrows into the earth', and stores its cellars, with similar providence. Nor does the law of comnmnity of goods apply to these stores, except in cases where, like that of the honey bee, one mother unites a whole community into one family, as in the hive. Even the most timid animals often show unexpected spirit and resources in the defense of their homes and their young. But bees, wasps, ants, and many other 12 ml species, build up elaborate homes, and store them with food, against the season of scarcity in each year ; and they value not their lives in a patriotic war in defense of their citadel. The evidence from natural history, proving proprietary rights, is especially clear and strong as to local proprietor- shit), corresponding with what is termed in law landed prop- erty. Dogs show a deep conviction as to the sacredness of their masters' rights of property, both movable and fixed. The shepherd's dog takes charge of hundreds of his mas- ter's sheep ; and never mistakes those of some neighbor for part of the flock under his care. Even the domesti- cated herd will resent the intrusion of others of their kind on their special pasture. Although it is evident that Nat\ire intended that many species of animals should prey upon others of different race from themselves, yet it is obvious that instinct has stamped on most animals a respect for some of the pro- prietary rights of individuals of their own kind. However much the experience, observation, and rea- son of mankind may have developed the instinctive promptings of Nature into a more complete and complex system of rights of property than that which sufficed in a primitive state of society ; yet property and proprietary rights, in their essential elements, are founded on the instinct of animals, including man himself. lY. The spontaneous productions of Nature, which supply the wants of animals, especially of man, are limited in quantity, even in the most fertile lands. Moreover, periods of abundance and of scarcity mark different 13 years, and different seasons of tlie same year. Both men and animals are always tending toward an increase of numbers far beyond that which the spontaneous yield of the ricliest soil can maintain. But the appropriation, by individual men, of parts of the earth's surface to their private and exclusive use, leads gradually but rapidly to the incorporation, with each of these localities, of so much of the occupant's in- dustry, skill, foresight, and economy, that the hunting- ground, which scantily supplied the wants of one savage, now maintains hundreds of industrious and civilized men. This wonderful and beneficent multiplication of produce results simply from civilized man's having incorporated so much of his own industry, skill, and enterprise with the material basis which nature afforded him to work on. Thus, the regions roamed over by the hunting tribes of North America did not then support one human being to the square mile. Australia, a far more barren continent, did not then, perhaps, support one to the square league. Now both of these regions, through that industry, enter- prise, and economy generated by the possession of pri- vate property, especially in land, are furnishing abun- dant provision for rapidly multiplying millions, which yet fall far short of approaching the maximum of the po]iulation these countries can sustain. Yet it would be only necessary persistently to violate and overthrow tliis right of private property in land for a generation or two, to reduce these regions again to the savage and desolate condition from wliich they have been redeemed in very modern times. Proprietary rights are not the device of man's selfish ingenuity ; but the char- tered rights of property are stamped by Nature on the instincts of animals, and especially of the animal man. 14 Y. ! I I 1 f i Ir ! ! Powerful as is the impulse which drives men to seek the gratification of their own wants ; and much as this impulse tends to promote their welfare and progressive improvement ; there is another natural motive which urges them to industry, enterprise, and foresight ; and tends yet more directly toward social progress and civilization. It is the instinctive desire to provide for and to protect their own offspring, and those naturally dependent upon them. We see this instinctive care of their ojffspring strongly and invariably manifested in animals of almost every species. It shows itself as strongly, but not so invariably, in the human race. We will not stop now to explain why this instinct is less uni- versal and unvarying with mankind than with other animals. But it is evident that the long and helpless infancy of man's offspring makes the prolonged care and protection of the parent more necessary to children than to the young of other animals. And the fact that man- kind have continued to exist and to multiply, is proof that parental neglect and improvidence have been the exception, and not the rule. The obligation to provide for their offspring is so pro- longed with mankind, that it generates tlie necessity of exercising industry and foresight beyond the promptings of mere instinct — suggesting the collecting and keeping of the means of long fulfilling this duty. This leads to the laying up of a lasting supply — that is, property — and points out that the violation of proprietary rights is a crime against individuals, and against Nature's laws. In the most primitive and isolated condition of society in which we can imagine the human race to have existed, I 15 the savage hunter pursued or ]ay in wait for his prey, to supply, not only himself, but his family with food. ]*^ot merely the selfish, but equally the social and domestic instincts also, at once stimulated and controlled his indus- try and enterprise. If the bounty of Nature continues to furnish a liberal maintenance to the bunter and to his family, in a generation or two this family becomes a tribe, governed, or at least much influenced, by their com- mon ancestor, while he lives ; and at his death, one of the elder and more energetic of his sons succeeds as the head of the tribe. For unity in counsel and in action is essen- tial to the welfare and even the safety of this young and small community. Society and rudimentary government thus make one step beyond the most primitive social condition we can imagine. The family becomes a tribe under patriarchal rule. This supplies the need of a more extended union for the mut'ial protection of the rights of each individ- ual. But it deprives the individual of no rights he may have acquired. Nor does it displace the parental author- ity in the household, for that continues to be as neces- sary as ever. VI. Yakious circumstances, local and accidental, may have influenced the first formation of government. But the need of some political organization of society is soon felt in every age and country. It is needed to counteract the evil dispositions which never fail to manifest tliemselves in a marked degree, in at least some individuals, in every community. Natural affection prompts most parents to exert them- 10 selves to provide for the wants of their children, stim- ulating them to industry, enterprise, and providence. But some evil-disposed persons seek to appropriate to themselves the proceeds of the labors of others. Thus : One savage gathers a quantity of fruit, or, after contriv- ing the implements needed in hunting or fishing, kills his game, or catches his fish. Another of the same tribe, less industrious or skillful, seeks to supply his own wants, by stealing the fruit, game, or fish, or perhaps the hunting or fishing implements, from him who has ac- quired them by honest industry. Or he may attempt to rob him of them by force. The party wronged naturally tries to defend and right himself, and he seldom fails to find allies to aid him. For even in the most primitive society, even in the tribe and the family, all but the culprit see the need of combining to prevent and punish offenses which, if un- restrained, would dissolve all social intercourse, and starve out the race. Hence originates the administration, by society, or by the head of it, of justice between its members, in order to protect them from each other. This is done, not by making a general law in the first in- stance, but by deciding a particular case, which serves as a precedent for the decision of similar cases in the future, thus laying the foundation of a general law. This internal need of a government, to restrain lawless conduct within society, is felt wherever society exists. Even in the family, the parent has to protect the younger brother from the elder ; and, perhaps, the sister from both. All mankind, perhaps without exception, need some infiuence, external to themselves, to assist them in regulating and controlling their own conduct. 17 VTI. Another imperious need for giving a political organ- ization to Bociety — an agency to direct and control the combined strength of all its members — is soon felt from the necessity of resisting violent attacks from without. It is possible, nay, probable, that men first learned to combine and organize tlieir means of defense in resist- ing powerful beasts of prey. The lion and the tiger may have been, indirectly, the agents in reuniting the wandering and scattered tribe into a more compact so- ciety. The Ursus SjpelcRus and the Felis ISpeloea^ now extinct, were far more powerful than the bears and lions of this day, and they were cotemporaries with primitive man. They must have been formidable enemies, com- pelling men to improve their weapons and fortify their places of refuge against them. Those lacustrine vil- lages, the ruinous foundations of which have of late years been discovered in some Swiss lakes and elsewhere, may have originated in the effort to secure safe shelter from these powerful beasts of prey. Successful defense against such antagonists first, and soon, led men to be- come bold and skillful hunters of these and other beasts they formerly dreaded. But primitive man soon found more dangerous ene- mies than beasts of prey. Among savages, who live chiefly by the chase, the necessity of wandering far in quest of game tended to break up and scatter the hu- man race into many small tribes, keeping them alienated from each other. Any one of these tribes might find or invent causes of hostility against another. The mere killing of game in their neighborhood, viewed as a tres- pass, might excite their animosity, and thus lead to war. ■ WBom 18 I 11 iliiil Then would arise the need of organizing the strength of each comnmnity, in order to repel the assaults of an ex- ternal Iniinan enemy. Here, then, are two needs which very soon render it necessary to give society a political organization. Man, associr.ung with his fellow man, needs a government to protect his rights from the encroachments of his fellows. And there is equal need for this political organization in order to repel violent attacks from without. But it is difficult to point out any other purpose for which it is necessary to call into action the intervention of govern- ment to promote the good of mankind. If man's own instinct, and liis reason and experience, were slow to prompt him to unite into organized society, he might derive many useful hints by observing the habits of the animals around him. Close scrutiny of the strongholds of the bee and the ant would reveal to him multitudes united into well-ordered communities, each individual liaving his appointed duty, and the division of labor well understood and practised among them. Valu- able lessons might be learned from tiie gregarious quad- rupeds and birds. The flocks of the chmnois and the moufflon while at pasture always have sentinels posted around them to give the alarm on the approach of an enemy. The same is the custom of many other species of beasts and birds. Animals have, too, their leaders. The herd of red deer follows the lead of some antlered stag. The wild horses of i\\Q, ^pampas, that of some stately stallion. And huge Inills lead the bison herds of the North American prairies. The wild geese are marshalled for their migra- tory flight into wedge-shaped order, some strong-winged male leading at the apex of the wedge. Some gregarious 19 birds, especially those of the crow khid, even seem to hold parliaments, or grand courts of justice, and to con- demn some notorious offenders, after public trial, to pub- lic execution. As to Rousseau's dream that political so- ciety originated in, or was founded on, a Contrat Social / the history of man affords no more proof of it than the natural history of animals, including the animal, man. All were born into society, and could have taken no part in making the contract on which Rousseau assumes that society was based. VIII. NErrnEB history nor tradition run back to the time when human society and government in its various forms first came into existence. But we have some rude ex- amples, in very modern times, which are very suggestive of the conditions under which men may be prompted, and even compelled, to organize a government for their own protection. For example : During the rapid settlement of Nortli America, within the last two or three centuries, by people of European origin, there has always been a frontier population push- ing on, from various motives, far beyond the settled country, into the interior of the continent. This fron- tier population was made up of various elements. Many enterprising men, fond of adventure, felt or imagined that their exertions were cramped by the growing density of the population around them, and sought wider and less occupied fields for their pursuits. Many others, too, wlio had failed in their undertakings at their original homes, often from want of industry or prudence, sought 20 to begin life again in a new home, which promised less competition and greater facilities for success. But not a few sought the frontier merely to put them- selves out of reach of the law and of the civil authority, which would no longer tolerate their lawless careers. But '* CcBlum, not animitm mutant, qui trans inare citrrunt." And migration to the utmost frontier, or beyond it, did not change the character or conduct of this latter class. It only gave freer scoj^e to their propensities to evil. Here, in the Far West, beyond the pale of the law and of civilization, this reprobate class, by fraud, robbery, and violence, soon became intolerable nuisances to all those who sought to live there in peace and safety, and thrive by honest industry, not by depredating on others. In the absence of the regular administration of justice, the better class of frontiersmen are compelled to com- bine, and take the law into their own hands, and thus maintain justice and civil order in their midst. By more or less rude and summary measures they rid the neigh- borhood of these foes to civil society. Their operations, directed against outlaws, are a sort of mean between executing civil process and waging open war. And doubtless, in such cases, many acts of extreme violence, of mistaken justice, and of tyranny, occur in their rude efforts to bring order out of chaos, to protect rights against wrongs. But in more remote times, and in other lands, many a local government of as rude an origin has gradually improved its organization and its administration, so as to serve well its purpose — the protection of private rights. Accidental circumstances might vary the original form 21 of these early politics. ITsnally, some leader of marked talent and ener<^y, stamped on it the monarchical type. Sometimes a combination of leading men might found an aristocracy or an oligarchy. Some unusually favoring occurrences might give it a republican character. But a true democracy would be hard to tind, so cumbrous and evanescent is that form. IX. We may observe that in all the cases that originate a necessity for a government, in order to secure men's rights, and preserve social order, the law does not pretend to create or grant rights, but only to protect rights already existing, and those which individuals may here- after acquire for themselves. But the very exercise of this duty of protecting rights develops, more or less rapidly, the perception of rights wliich, at first, may escape the notice of primitive legis- lation. Thus, men are naturally prompt in making promises, and entering into contracts, but not so prompt in fulfill- ing them. But when society has once recognized the wrongfulness of appropriating, by stealth or violence, the product of another's industry, and has learned to resist the wrong, and to punish the wrong-doer, it needs but one step further in reasoning, to lead to the conviction that a breach of contract is also an offense ; and that each one in the community is interested in compelling the contractor to fulfill his contract. For the breach of it is but a more insidious mode of depriving a man of the fruits of his industry. As men exercise their reason and conscience, the field of inquiry und of jiidginont aR to Bocial duties enlarges itHclf rapidly. Thus, men inHtinctivcly recognize the obligation which Nature and their own acts have laid upon them, to provide for and protect their own families and those naturally de])endent upon them. They learn to recognize certain rights as vested in each member of their household. They extend this feeling, or conviction, so as to apply it to the families of their neighbors also. While recognizing the need of great authority and power in the liead of each household, they learu to include every one in the tribe or community, as vested with cer- tain rights, and under the tribe's protection. They lose esteem for, and confidence in, those who obviously neg- lect their domestic obligations. Some monstrous act of domestic tyranny, some gross outrage against a wife or a child, opens their eyes to the fact that a man may com- mit a crime against his own family, as well as against his neighbor ; and that the community is interested in pre- venting such offenses by punishing the offender. K> X. Man is born a hunter, like the beasts of prey. But, unlike them, as he improves his condition, he is con- stantly changing tlie object of his chase and his modes of pursuing them, showing increasing ingenuity and cun- ning in his progress. As men multiply on the face of the earth, the spon- taneous products of nature available for their mainte- nance, begin to fail them. A large area of territory is needed to support the primitive tribes, while they de- rive their whole subsistence from the fruit they can gather and the game they can kill. Even in the wide 23 territory open to tlieir wandcri'nfi^s, scarcity, at times rising to faniiiie, often tliiii.s tlieir number. Tn some favoral)le situations, the eutcliing of fish supplied more ahundant food, and this art and industry was probably practised as soon as that of hunting. But it is ahnost as uncertain in its results. The rearing of domesticated animals to furnish men with food requires far less territory than the hunter needs to supply him with game, and it is a far more reliable resource. But we know not when, where, or under what circumstances men made this first great step in bettering their condition, or what animal they first reduced to servitude. On the other hand, we know that some races of men failed to make this progressive step where it was fully within their power. The hunting tribes of North America derived a large part of their living from the slaughter of whole herds of the bison. Yet there is no record of their ever having even attempted to domesticate this animal, which might have supplied the place of the bull and cow of the old continent, and thus have enabled them to enter on a prof- itable industry, on which they might have built np a civilization. The bison has been reared in servitude, as an experiment. It furnishes beef, milk, butter, cheese, hides, etc., but being, on the whole, less useful than the common cow, nothing is gained by breeding them. It is yet more strange that the Mexicans, who, if we can believe the historians who have searched into their antiquities, had made great progress in many high and ingenious arts, under the greatest disadvantages ; who had cultivated a literature, made progress in systematic legislation, and built up a complicated civilization — yet they allowed the bison, which was within their reach, mmmmmmm 24 il probably, in the winter season, within their territories, to continue roving wild over the length of the conti- nent, without making any attempt to tame them. The only animal mentioned by historians as tamed and reared in Mexico, under its ancient and puzzling civilization — was the turkey. We might have been tempted to class, among the in- stincts of the human race, a propensity to domesticate inferior animals, did we not know that some .races of men never attempted it, or, at least, never succeeded in it, under circumstances apparently favoring success. Some countries, indeed, afforded no animal, or, at least, no quadruped, suitable to, and profitable in, servitude. The Australian could hardly have tamed and reared flocks of the kangaroo. I . XL It is likely that the first animal any wliere tamed was the dog. It must have often happened that the hunter caught alive the young of wild animals ; and sometimes he would bring them home unharmed. Among these, the young of the dog was easily tamed, feeding on the refuse of the family meal, and becoming the pet of the children. He would promptly attach himself to the household, and his useful qualities soon show themselves. He becomes a vigilant sentinel and incorruptible guardian over the family and their property. His propensity to hunt after game, and his keen scent in tracing its foot- steps, render him soon an invaluable ally to the hunter. But the domestication of the dog was not tlie begin- ning of pastoral life. It merely facilitated man's en- trance on that occupation ; the dog aiding his master to 35 catch and keep other animals more fit to compose the Hock mid the herd. Men did not rear dogs to supply tliuiiiselves with food — although, in some countries, the (log became an occasional article of diet ; and it has hap- pened, at times, that a hunting tribe, reduced to extreme want, have eaten their dogs, in a vain effort to escape starvation. It is likely that many haphazard trials were made by primitive men to domesticate animals, before they foimd out what species were most fit for it, in each part of the M'orld, most easily reared and kept ; and most useful as food, and for other purposes. In some countries the range of choice was very narrow. The camel, in the more sterile parts of Arabia, the reindeer, in Lapland, and the llama, in Peru, found there no rivals. In more favored countries and climates, we know that the sheep, tlie goat, the cow, the swine, the ass, and then the horse, fell under man's control at very early dates. As soon as men became shepherds and herdsmen their condition, resources, and habits underwent great changes and improvements. Hunting ceased to be their necessary and almost daily toil, and became only their occasional sport. But as long as wild game is to be found they never give up the pursuit of it. Still, the possession of flocks and herds revolutionized their condition. The proprietary rights of individuals now extended beyond that over dead game, to the pos- session of many living animals, and to the right of free pasturage for their herds. But the necessity of following their flocks on a change of pasture compelled them to live in tents, and they did not then claim permanent property in any fixed domicil. Having now a steady and comparatively certain supply if ■!fiff?^eMHmiLJUuiL.,a.ii i !l|ti!| :ii!! I of food, not only in tlie ilesli of their lierds, but in the milli and its proceeds, men could congregate together, uniting in large tribes. The more ample leisure and more abundant materials at their hands, led to the im- provement of known arts, and to the invention of others hitherto unpractised. The very need of seeking fresh pastures from the ex- haustion of that in their neighborhood, or from the change of season, habituated them to moving in a body, with all their possessions around them, and fully prepared for a long march. This taught them the need of order and method in their common movements, and formed the tribe into an organized body-politic, recognizing the guidance of one head. On becoming shepherds and herdsmen, men made a vast stride forward in social, political, and military or- ganization. For this aggregation of herdsmen into one body, often on the move in search of wide and fertile pastures, consisted of men trained to the use of weapons in hunting and in tlie defense of their-flocks. And the command of tlie speed and strength of the horse had now added greatly to the ease and celerity of their move- ments. Tlie habitual organization of society was now like that of a corps cVarmee already in the field, with its chief at its head, and its magazines and its commissariat close at hand. Under able, enterprising, and aggressive leaders, these restless nomads have often been method- ically united into vast hordes, which, abandoning their native steppes in a mass, a migrating nation, have many a time revolutionized the political and social condition of the greater part of the old world ; overrunning, •^'ubduing, and, at times, exterminating, almost extirpating, the pre- vious population. . {See Institutes of Timour.) But these devastating marches are foreign to our present inquiry. 27 XII. !S -». ! JBRARY.^) Great as were the results of this adojition of pastoral industry as a settled means of living, it did not enable men to reap the full profits of the bounties of Nature. Although pastoral hordes formed multitudes, vast when compared with the small and scattered tribes of hunters, they were yet but a sparse population in comparison with that wliicli the soil of the earth could provide for. The culture of the soil was the next great step made by men ; thus bettering their condition, by increasing their supply of food, and the certainty of it. And this change in occupation and industry brought many unfore- seen consequences and benefits, and also some evils, in its train. We are quite as ignorant when, where, and with whom, agiiculture and {irboriculture originated, as we are as to who was the first hunter, fisher, or herdsman. Was it in some sheltered valley, highly favored in soil and climate, and abounding in fruits that supply man's wants— that agricultural industry took its rise? That is not likely. It probably began under very difl^erent conditions. It is not in the midst of the plenty of Nature's providing, that man originated the attempt to produce, by art, a yet greater abundance. His whole liistory proves the con- trary. The improvidence of mankind, in the mass, is nowhere better exemplified than in their deahngs with the soil, and with whatever spontaneously springs from the soil. In every country and age, one of the marked modes in which men have exercised their activity and industry, is the destruction of the forest wherever it has covered i ^i Mi i ■ lit •> I ill I Hi I ■■ } 1 (i ! i ; i 4 i 1 1 1 ' 1 \ \ 1 i ! 1 i 28 the country. A living tree found no value in their eyes until it became a rarity. A striking example of this propensity to destruction is afforded by the conduct of the Portuguese navigators, sent out on voyages of discovery, early in the fifteenth cent- ury, by Prince Henry of Portugal. " Madeira (the Portuguese name for wood) was cov- ered with dense forests. This lovely and fertile island had, doubtless, a people and a name of its own ; but they have passed away, and the footsteps of the civilized dis- coverers have obliterated every trace of the aborigines. The first act of the adventurers was to set fire to the dense forests, which fed a conflagration which was not fairly extinguished for many years ; and when the virgin soil was fully exposed, colonization was successfully established."* So elsewhere, when the forest is laid low, men begin to lament its utter destruction ; and perhaps some feeble efforts are made, here and there, to restore it. Again, when men had made some progress in agriculture, they, in every age and country, cropped their fields until they became too much impoverished to produce crops that paid for the labor bestowed on them. Then they felled the adjacent forest, or inclosed the prairie to sow new fields, to undergo the same process of utter exhaustion. It is not uiitil there is no fresh soil fit for cultivation, that they make any attempt to recuperate the acres their own improvidence and want of skill have rendered utter- ly barren. other examples of man's improvidence, for himself, and yet more, for his kind, are seen in the sweeping destruction of game ; as in the wholesale slaughter of the * Spry's Cruise of tlie Challenger, p. 26. 29 American bison (now rapidly disappearing), often kilk'd only for tlieir tongues and tlieir robes ; in the ntter exhaus- tion of some fisheries, as the salmon fisheries in British rivers and elsewhere, wherever they are free to all men. Such resources are gradually yet utterly lost to all. unless it be prohibited to kill game on another man's land, and to catch fish in another man's waters. For such reasons we think that agriculture did not originate in what afterward proved to be the most pro- ductive fields. It probably took its rise under very dif- ferent conditions. Perhaps some primitive savage, driven by the scarcity of game and of fruits, sought some convenient water- side in order to provide for his family by fishing. There he constructs a rude shelter for them, or improves some natural cave near at hand, as a more sheltered and safer refuge. He now maintains them by fishiniJ". But in bet- ter times he was a man of the woods; c".nd retains a crav- ing after the forest and its productions. Should he observe, near his hut or cave, some tree of a kind that liad often yielded him fruit, to satisfy his hunger, or to slake his thirst (perchance the cocoa-nut palm), it will re- call to him pleasing memories of the past. He will not hack it down with his fiint hatchet, but will go further to seek his fuel. Should the tree bear abundantly in season, as fruit trees standing alone, not crowded by other trees, are apt to do, he will learn to value it and protect it from injury, even by his own family. Pie and liis have become interested in the preservation of a tree. And this is the first step toward arboriculture, which, it is likely, preceded agriculture. cain : some projecting point on the bank of a river, of li^ Agai a bay, or an arm of the sea, may afford especial facilities !F li ! i m Hill- \i. . I 1 11 jo fi ' 1 -1 jiji; if ' no for catching fish ; and thus, in time, attract a concourse of those engaged in that industry. Tlie earlier settlers, needing some space for drying and curing their fish, for spreading out their nets and fishing tackle, for keep- ing their fuel, and to give elbow-room to their families while at work, would inclose with stakes, and stockade, a space much beyond that covered by their huts. And each new-comer would hasten to follow their example. These fishing villages originated maritime towns and cities. Living chiefly on a monotonous diet of fish, these- peo- ple would feel a craving for finiit and edible roots, and make excursions into the country around to get thetn ; some the produce of annual, others of perennial, plants. After the fruit had been eaten, the seeds and stones would be thown aside within the incilosure, already manured and enriched by the refuse of the fishery. In the spring many of these seeds would germinate, some of them in places and corners out of harm's way. In a fishing village little of vegetation would be seen. What sprung up would attract the eye. Some one, among these rude fishermen, more observant than the others, would recognize the young plants springing up from the seeds of the fruit he had eaten. lie might charge his children not to harm them ; he might even take the trouble to pull up the weeds cramping their growth. Here is a rude experiment in horticulture, which will yield some fruit ; and more than that, it v/ill germinate a priceless idea, the most prolific that ever entered the mind of man. This experiment will slowly grow into an art and an industry. In time this little inclosure will be enlarged into a garden. As the art of cultivation 4 ■L;'iV>i 31 inakcs progress, other persons, perhaps strangers coming to the viUage to procure tish, observing tliis primitive cultuie, will seek to imitate it. If they live where the land is unoccupied and the soil fertile, they will be led in time to expand their gardens into farms, adding acre to acre, fencing out wild animals and tame flochs, if any be yet near them ; they will add the culture of other plants to that of those with which the art began, thus gradually grafting a new creation on IS^ature's, by arfili- cially multiplying and improving on her products. For several kinds of corn-producing plants, and, we believe, some that bear fruits, have been so much changed and im- proved by cultivation, that botanists cannot now point out from what wild species they sprung. At length somebody invented the plow, and yoked the ox to it. Then it only needed time, enterprise, and experience to expand this art and industry, from the primitive system of agriculture, into the means, in future generations, of feeding and multiplying mankind to num bers beyond the conception of their hunting, fishing, and pastoral forefathers. XIII. Man is not an amphibious animal. He is, indeed, one of the few animals, and the only one of the mammalia, which cannot swim. Their swimming is instinctive. AVith man it is an art. Man's natural aptitude for acquiring it varies greatly, chiefly, we believe, because the specific gravity of individuals varies much. But want early drove men to the water's edge, and into, and at length on, the water. They found in the vast body of water, fresh and salt, a liberal and often abun- i ! i I ■» . I i U" dant supply for their most pressing needs. Indeed, not only tlie great waters, but in most countries, the borders of the sea, and of the water-courses, are the regions most abounding in animal life. Many primitive tribes seem to have derived their sub- sistence chiefly from the shell-fish they gathered. In many parts of the world are found mounds composed mostly of the shells of oysters, clams, and other iiiollusca, which have been exposed to the action of Are. It must have required many generations, nay, centuries of hungry savages, to gather them. On the coast of Denmark some of these mounds, of large area, but of little elevation, have been carefully explored, and revealed much as to the h?bits of pre-his- toric man. We have seen a somewliat similar mound on the coast of South Carolina, twenty-four miles northeast of Charleston, close to a landing on one of a labyrinth of creeks, leading through a great salt marsh, into a large bay. The country-people around called this mound the "Old Indian Fort," it being a circular ring mound, inclosing a lower area. It is made up of the shells of oysters and clams, showing marks of fire. Had a tribe of savages, living solely on these shell-fish, habitually seated themselves around their fires, roasting the oyvsters and clams, and, after eating the muscles, thrown away the shells from the assembled company with vigorous arm, they might, in the course of genera- tions or centuries, have piled up just such a circular mound as this. But primitive man was making some progress in the arts, which were to raise him above the necessity of living on shell- fish. One of them at length invented the barbed spear, or harpoon ; another the fish-hook, and the line ; 83 then another, the net or the seine ; and, near the sea and great rivers, fish gradually hecame the chief diet. Some observant fishernian at length perceived that to stand on the shore, or even knee-deep in the water, was not the best point for taking fisli. Tlie larger number and the larger lish would keep in deep water, out of his reacli ; and, to the hungry savage, the larger the better the Hsli. Some uprooted tree, with tlie trunk stretched out and floating on tlie stream, afforded him a stand, from which the deeper water would be accessible to his hook and line. In his anxiety to increase his catchings, he at last liit upon the lucky tliought that a few dry and buoyant logs, lashed together with vines, would sustain his weight on the water ; and with a pole he might push it to the deep places where the fish were larger and more abun- dant. His slowly awakened ingenuity thus devised the fishing raft, which, in a generation or two, is improved into the cata?7iaran ,' whicli is displaced in time by the more handy canoe. The fisherman is now on the way to become a mariner, and, after the lapse of some gener- ations or centuries, fleets for commerce and for war be- gin to furrow the surface of the sea. XTV. Perhaps not one of these marvellous changes in man's habits and pursuits was the result of any great effort of invention. A number of casual observations of I^ature, and of special contingencies around him ; some small efforts of ingenuity ; some lucky accident revealing to him a new fact, a new material, or some jdiysical law before 84 ' I I I! ' i mm il ■III li; unknown to him, led step by step to the invention and improvement of all tlie arts practised by mankind. It would be difficult to enumerate all the contrivances in common use whicli we owe to the imitation of Nature's mechanism alone. For example : the hin<^es on which our doors turn. They are a clever contrivance. Who invented it ? No man. A long time ago (the date is not recorded) an epicure was dining luxuriously on sea crabs. When he had sated himself with this rich food, being an observant man, he examined minutely the ingenious and eifectual way in which the large claws of the crab were united at the articulating joint to the limb that supported them. Ilis observation of these sockets led to the adoption of the principle of the hinge to man's use, with many modifi- cations. So man's tirst lesson in sewing was learned from the tailor-bird, which neatly sews the edges of leaves to- gether to conceal its nest. The net to take fish was copied from the spider's web to catch flies. The burrow- ing animals taught useful lessons in well-digging and mining ; and the wonderful constru'^.tive instincts of the beaver afforded valuable sugo-estions in the art of dam- ming streams and building huts. So in pottery. I hav3 taken from tlie surface of what had been a clay puddle, but now dried up by the sum- mer's sun, large pieces of fine clay of moderate and equa- ble thickness, smooth on the upper side, .which curved up like the inner surface of a hollow sphere. All to whom I showed these pieces mistook them for fragments of un- baked pottery. Such pieces of clay, accidentally exposed to the action of fire, revealed the virtues of clay and the potter's art to primitive man. Again, flints and some other kinds of hard stone, skill- 35 fully fractured, furnished man with his first edge-tools. By accident, one had occasion to make a hot tire among some fragments of metalliferous rock>i. After the fire had gone out, on stirring the ashes looking for a live coal, he found, instead, some pieces of a bright, hard, smooth, shining substance, of a reddish color and of great weight, melted into various shapes. He had found copper^ ])er- liaps, as often liappens, amalgamated with tin. This is bronze^ an alloy, in its tool-making qualities inferior only to steel. He perceived that the tire had extracted it out of the rocks, and melted it into these various shapes; and he slowly applies these lessons from Nature to useful ends of his own. For, in spite of his necessities, primitive man's nar- row range of observation and experience make him a very slow inventor. We must not forget that invent- ing means, at first, finding out by accident or chance ; later, it may mean, by experiment. And tj^at every step in the improvement of an art lends itself to the promotion of other arts. Yet we know that this last remark has not proved of universal application to mankind. Men of every race have acquired the rudiments, at least, of several arts. Yet only a few of these races have succeeded in extending and improving the arts, so as to raise themselves to a state of civilization, or even semi-civilization. The depths of savagery is, perhaps, represented by the rude fishing tribes found by Nearchus, Alexander's admiral, on his voyage from the Indies to the Persian Gulf. These tribes eat their fish raw, not having yet learned the use of fire. We do not feel called upon, and will not at- tempt to explain the causes of these differences in races. Our inquiry refers to those races onlj which have proved themselves capable of civilization. ,4i ■t!l! 1 il 1 h I 36 XV. In the most ])rimitivu condition of Hociety, each fiunilj nniHt not only have profiired tlieir own food, ])nt made, witli their own handH, all the arms, implements, ntensils, and clothino^ they needed. This manufacture for the supply of all their wants may have continued lon<^ after the habits and occu[)ations of different tribes had varied greatly, to suit the character of the different ])arts of the country in which each tribe chanced to settle. But this was not destined to continue. The inclination to barter seems to bean insfinctiinnan. If it be an instinct, it is one ])eculiar to man ; for no other animal exhibits it. Yet the first hunter may have bar- tered to the first tisher some of his game for some of the other's tish. We cannot conceive of a state of society so rude and primitive that barter was unknown in it. Special cireum stances must soon have induced some persons to devote themselves to special industries, with a view to l)arter their products for what they needed more. Grecian mythology tells us that lame Vulcan, unable to rival his a(?tive fellow gods in their enterprises, sports, and pastimes, turned smith ; and, shutting himself up in his workshop, employed himself in forging weapons and armgr for Mars, thunder-bolts for Jupiter, and in the contrivance of otlier choice samples of his craft. He was the first artisan. So, ])erhaps, some hunter, disabled by permanent injuries from returning to the pursuit of the game on which he had hitherto lived, devoted his time to the making of weapons and other implements, in exchange for which the hunter and the fisher would barter a part of their spoils. In short, prompted by some special a])titnde, or urgent necessity, or facilitating 37 circniiintaiK'Ort, individiuilH begun, at very early dates, to give tliciiiselvcs to Hpecial industries Pi a means of earn- ing a living. The disabled Ininter of primitive times would, by practice and observation, ac(piire i^ecidiar skill in making th'j lance, the harpoon, the bow, and tlie arrow ; and all his tribe become eager to get weapons of his make. Or the making of pottery miglit become his art, and the work of his hands be in constant demand. Some parts of a country abound in materials and facil- ities for the production of one or more commodities, genei'ally useful and much needed in other ])laces not far remote. Take common salt, for instance, which abounds in some phices, and is utterly wanting in others. Some persons would soon be induced to employ themselves in preparing salt ; and others, elsewhere, needing salt, will make some articles of general utility, the materials for which abound in their neighborhood, in order to barter them for salt. Here, then, are articles made for sale, which is manu- facturing; and articles exchanged for others, which is barter, or primitive trade. As this manufacture and ex- change of commodities increases, there springs up a class of persons who make a business of procuring from the producers some of their goods, and carrying them to the places where they are most wauted, to barter or sell them there for more tlian they gave for them. Soon some convenient and portable commodity comes into use as a measure of value. In time this becomes silver or gold, as most convenient. As almost every part of the country, indeed of the world, has some peculiar ad- vantages for producing some commodity wanted else- wliere, commerce extends its operations, remote regions m rr 38 JiilliE 'lii i! come into intercourse with each other, new con- veniences, coiriforts, and arts are widely disseminated ; and by greater intercourse of man with men, knowledge of all kinds is increased. As men multiply on the face of the earth, new wants are generated, new arts are invented, and knowledge in- creases ; a greater variety of employments become opened to men. Tiie advantages and necessity of the division of labor become fully understood, and more practised con- tinually. To the original occupations of men, first hunt- ing and fishing, then pastoral life, then farming, are now added various occupations in the different branches of manufacture, commerce, and employments that call for professional and scientific skill; and also more yet in manual arts, and more still in unskilled labor. In each of these, many men seek to provide for themselves and their families, by selling their productions, or their serv- ices. Thus society becomes a very complex body. A great variety of rights, relations, interests, and obligations are now generated, and spring up among the members of the community ; and a more comprehensive and complex system of laws becomes needed to protect their riglits, and to adjust tlie relations of individuals with each other. The law finds full employment, not in creating rightii, but in protecting rights which have naturally grown into ex- istence. XVI. Wk find proofs of the existence of manufacturing in- dustry on a large scale ; and indications of extended com- mercial intercourse at a date when prehistoric man had 89 f'l; and the use of of the not yet discovered the nature and tlie use ot any one metals. Geologists and archaeologists, searching for traces of primitive man, have found in the middle of France, near Tours, and elsewhere, evidence of the existence and long continued manufacture of flint-tools and weapons : hatch- ets, knives, chisels, saws, lance-heads, arrow points, etc. The accumulation of those implements, near the surface of the earth, over a large area, in the neighborhood of Tours, was immense. Over 20,000 specimens were dug up in a few weeks. True, nearly all of these were broken, or defective. The explanation of this latter fact proves the immejisity of the manufacture. The articles success- fully finished had been disseminated over a wide region of country in extended and long continued traffic. Archaeologists think tliar they have traced tools from this factory as far as Belgium. Those left behind in such numbers are only the failures in the process of manu- facture.'^ This and other exam*ples show us how early men had recourse to the division of labor, some giving their whole time to making articles for sale or barter, others trans- porting these articles to remote points for the purpose of trade. And so it was in other occupations. Among the growing multitudes of men most persons had soon, each, to adopt some special form of industry to earn his living. It I!] l-'^ll 'A I ;■ XYII. We have been at pains to trace some of the steps men must have taken in their progress toward civ- ilization. Men are born into societv. It is throu^rh his *L'Hommp Primitive, par Louis Figuier, pp. 171 et 243-(5, Iiiii iiii illlHIII M;;| 40 domestic and social instincts that he is enabled to im- prove his condition. Yet all human progress and im- provement sprinj^ from the efforts of individuals, and in most cases, of those especially gifted by nature. And, through social intercourse, this progress and improvement is communicated to otliers less gifted than themselves. Numerous have been the successive steps, with long intervals between them, by which even the most gifted races of men have risen from primitive barbarism to the highest civilization yet reached. And every one of these steps has been prompted by the enterprise, ingenuity, and industry of some individual. The invention of each weapon, used by the most primi- tive hunting tribe, they owe to some one man ; the con- trivance of the fish-hook, the net, and of every device for catching iish, each has a similar origin. Some par- ticular man iirst domesticated the dog, and drew atten- tion to those instincts and traits which render him an in- valuable and incorruptible servant and ally to his master. Some other man first tamed one or other of those ruminat- ing animals so peculiarly adapted to man's uses — the sheep, the goat, the cow, the camel, and others — thus prepar- ing the way, amidst the growing scarcity of game, thinned by constant slaughter, for the first great change in man's pursuits; turning the scattered and starving tribes of hunters into more thriving and more united bands of shepherds and herdsmen. It was the observation and thoughtful foresight of an individual which first taught men to preserve the tree for its fruit, and to protect the germinating seed for the sake of the harvest it prom- ised. Thus leading tiieir fellow men, step by step, toward arboriculture, horticulture, and so to agriculture, which is tlie foundation of civilization. The necessities 41 and practised skill of aiiotlier man originated the occupa- tion of manufacturinoj what others wanted, to be ex- (•lian^ed for what those otliers had in an abundance be- vond their needs. From such first progressive steps sprung all the different pursuits of men, in all the various branches of special skill and knowledge useful to their possessors and to their fellow men. These pursuits have now become almost numberless, but there is not one of them which we do not owe to the inventive facul- ties, enterprise, and industry of some particular person, and its improvements to others who have given special at- tention to it. And yet it is to their social intercourse with each other that mankind, in the aggregate, owe their progress and improvement in their condition. The most gifted indi- vidual can make but a step or two onward by liis own re- sources. In this sketch of man's progress we can trace Nature's providence for men. (In this inrpiiry, in this agnostic age, we must not speak of God's providence.) Unlike the brute creation, content under the guidance of their instincts, man has been constituted with a constant crav- ing to better his condition. But, then, Nature has en- dowed him with faculties which enable him gradually to raise himself above his primitive state. By the further wise providence of benignant Nature, each step that an individual takes toward rendering the gifts of Nature more available to liis own use ; each in- vention or improvement in an art, or in the attainment of a special skill, or of knowledge hitlierto hidden, while it may serve his purpose in profiting himself, sooner or later becomes known to his neighbors, and in time its beneficial results are accessible to all. t i 1 ' B j; T fi 42 Indeed, it often happens that inventions, devised with a view to profit, prove more profitable to others than to tlie inventor himself, his gains not repaying him for the time, pains, and cost he had bestowed on his object. In- deed, the mere worldly hicre accruing from genius, science, wisdom, and learning, to tlie highly-gifted posses- sors of these eudowments and acquisitions, are as nothing when compared with the benefits derived from them by the multitudes who had no part in originating them. But mere profit, immediate, direct lucre, is not the chief motive which impels tlie most highly gifted of men to the exercise of their special gifts. And it is well that it should be so. Before Virgil's day and since, the poet, the artist, and the inventor, each have had occasion to sing, in YirgiFs strain — HoH ego rersiciilos fed, Ittlit aUer honores, Sh vos non voMs iiidijicafia aves, Sic V08 non vobia rellerafertJs oves, Sic vos non vobis melUficatis apes, Sic vos non robin fertis nratra bovea \ liii ! i It is in the enthusiastic exercise of its powers that genius must find its chief reward. Little of the profit which ultimately accrues from its productions returns to re- ward the teeming brain and -killf ul hand from which it sprung. In short, all the progress and improvement in the con- dition of mankind have been built up out of the contri- butions of individuals. To the domestic and social in- stincts of men, which disseminate these acquisitions, civilization is due. We labor to establish this, in order to counteract the error common among even educated people, that government, or the State, as a creative in- 48 stitution, does, or can do, anything directly to improve the condition of men, and to promote civilization, beyond providing for the security of the rights of individuals. XYIII. Mi h s domestic and social instincts brir^ contact with society, not with the State, or with the government. These latter should be carefully dis- tinguished from society ; but they are often confounded with it, although they originate from different, and even opposite, sources. By society, takcTi in its broadest sense, we mean to in- clude all the human beings within some given area, hav- ing domestic or social relations, or intercourse and trans- actions with some of the others, so that each one may be directly or even indirectly affected and influenced, for good or evil, by the conduct or pursuits of the others. The sources of the relations which originate society, are the domestic and social instincts exclusively. On the other hand, the State is merely the aggregation of the strength and resources of all these individuals into a unit, for the protection of the rights of each one of them. The State originates, not from the social instincts of men, but solely from their selflsh instincts — each one seeking his own safety and the security of his individual riglits, through the protection hoped for through the State. The government is merely the agency organized i)y the State, for the fulfillment of the duty of protecting private rights, and for the management of the resources tlie community has intrusted to it. All that society, organized into the State, can do to promote the welfare of individuals and of the commu- m mk •'V|l "lllf I m m i!"'!! 44 nity at large, is to fulfill the primitive purpose of its or- ganization — the negative duty of securing to each mem- ber of the community the undisturbed enjoyment of his personal and social rights, and of tlie results of his in- dustry, skill, and economy, by enforcing justice at home, and repelling violence from abroad. These two negative duties, of preventing evils, nmst be carefully distinguished from the bestowing of direct and po«i^-' ; l^onefits on the people of the community. For the adiainistration of justice at home, and the re- pelling violence from abroad, are exactly the only two things individuals and unorganized society cannot d » for themselv.'-N A general ' .'i/ "'once and consciousness of tlie danger to the private rigt^t^ c f ( ach one, lead all men, by self- soekiiig inst' ic, to . for security to a combination and organiziition oi \iv.- . . 'u^'th and resources of all in the community, for the protection of the rights of each one ; and the community thus becomes a State —a change which by no means implies a community of goods or of rights. The State is a unit only for the protection of private rights. Even those who may have taken no part in tliis meas- ure of combination, when they have suffered wrong, and are unable to right themselves, see the need of this com- bination ; and readily have recourse h) tlie authorities representing the conmmnity, whether it be the patriarchal chief of a clan, or the chiefs of a tribe in council, or the assembled people, or a parliament, or a sovereign prince, or the courts which may have been established for the administration of justice. Wherever men are found in numbers, there will be social relations, and a society, and possibly all the blessings 45 society can bestow. But if there were no wrong-doers in that society, there would be no need of an agency to ad- minister justice. If there were no foreign enemy to en- (hmger society or its members, there need be no State organization to resist tlieir attacks. Everything else that need be done in human society, can be, and has been, better done by individuals, or, in many cases, by voluntary combinations of them, than by any government whatever. We shall find occasion to point out how generally, almost universally, govern- ments have failed to attain to satisfactory results, when- ever they have left the plain path leading to their two great primary duties — administering justice at home, and i-esisting violence from abroad — to take upon themselves works of supererogation, under the guise of active benefi- cence to those they govern. •n XIX. We have referred to personal and social rights. Let us inquire what is meant by the rights of an individual. Men being endowed by nature with certain powers and capacities, it is often said that their first right is that of using their powers to promote tlieii* own well-being, in any way not hurtful to their fellows. But the truth is, that men, coming into life as infants, live long years under the control of others, and may come under many binding obligations before they fully attain to the maturity of the powers nature has endowed them with. Often many circumstances may justly con- tinue to trammel their perfect freedom in the use of those powers exclusively for their own advancement. 46 •f'*- lilt;! ■ But even whore a man has the freest use of his natural endowments, they are at best only the roots from which human riglits may spring up and branch out in many directions. They are capacities rather than matured riglits. For the great mass of men's rights spring from the use they make of their capacities. Nature, while en- dowing men with certain powers, has burdened tliein with certain wants and appetites. The possession of these powers, stimulated by these appetites, does not give him a riglit to satisfy his wants, under all circum- stances, like a beast of prey. Even if we should say that the tiger's powers and ap- petites give him a right to seize upon the prey, man or beast, that comes within liis reach ; who will assert that a man's hunger entitles him to take the food already earned and appropriated by anotlier? or that his shivering in the wintry blast gives him a right to wrap himself up in another's cloak or furs ? or tliat his unsheltered condition justifies his forcing his way into another's house ? Nature has made jDrovision, in the sympathies of man- kind, for cases of accidental and unavoidable destitution. But if cases of want gave riglits, charity and hospitality would lose their nature and merit. They would cease to be what they are. Just think of a man having a ground of action at law against anotlier, a stranger to him, for allowing him to remain without food or clothes ! Or think of indicting a man for such neglect of another, a stranger to him, as a crime ! m 1'i ' 'II; ,1 i„ XX. Even in very rude and primitive states of society, men learn that their wants are not the measure of their rights. 47 Little troubled as men commonly are with scruples, we sometimes meet with scruples, and even with a point of honor, where we little expect it. In the far Northwest of North xVmerica, where the improvident aboriginal population are dependent for their food solely on their success in hunting, when it hap- pens, in winter, that they have killed more buffalo or other game than they can consume at once, or carry to their lodges, it is usual to select some suitable spot near at hand, and make what the French half-breeds call a cache. Althougli the term implies concealment, the Gache is not hidden, being on the surface of the ground, now frozen as hard as rock. The frozen meat is inclosed and buried under a substantial pen of heavy logs, to protect it from carnivorous beasts, as the wolf and fox. There it remains safe and sound while the frost lasts, a provident store against a period of ill success in hunt- ing. It is a point of honor, with these simple people, to respect as sacred these stores, laid up by their brother liunters. If they themselves become destitute, they must seek out some neighboring lodge, perhaps a day's jour- ney off, and rely on the hospitality that awaits them there ; and which, in the like case, they feel bound to oifer without stint. In the narrative of the " Northwest Passage by Land " to the Pacific, by Viscount Milton and Dr. Cheadle, in 1865, we find some very striking instances of the cus- toms and of the heroic abstinence and honesty of these rude hunters. After mentioning the success of their own party in hunting the buffalo on a particular occa- sion, the authors say : " There was now more meat than we required at pres- / '^ I ■ % '.t t. pr I; , 3*' ■ ! = il 'I :.:'i^ ! I 48 ent, and the cache was therefore left undisturbed, some given in charge to Gaijtchi MoKkaman (an Indian hunter)." Page 140. Some weeks after this tliey mention that " Two young Indians, who had just arrived from the plains, brought a message from Gaytclii Mohhanian to the effect that he would be compelled to eat the meat we had left in oaclie if we did not fetch it away immediately." Page 158. " At Jack Fish Lake we met Gaytchi MoJikaman and some Wood Crees of our ac(inaintance. The former apologized for eating our meat in tlie winter, urging the dire necessity which compelled him." Page 107. In a previous part of the narative it is mentioned : " As Cheadle sat over the tire in the evening alone, in a somewhat dismal mood, the door was opened, and in walked a Frencli half-breed, of very Indian appearance. He sat down and sm >ked, talked for an hour or two, stating that he was out trapping, and that his lodge and family were about iive miles distant. Cheadle produced some pemmican for supper, when the visitor fully justi- lied the sohriquet which hi' bore, Mayhayyan, or ' the wolf,' by eating most voraciously. He then mentioned that he had not tasted food for two days. He had visited our hut the day before, lit a fire, melted some water in the kettle, and waited some time in the hope that some one might come in. At last he went away without touching the pemmican, which lay on the table ready to his hand. This story was doubtless perfectly true, agreeing with all the signs previously observed, and the fact that the pemmican was uncut. " With the pangs of hunger gnawing at his stomach, and viewing, no doubt, with longing eyes the food around. 49 he had yet, according to Indian etiquette^ refrained from clanioi-ing at once for food, but sat and smoked for a long time without making the sligiiteat allusion to his starving condition. Wlien in due course he had offered liim something to eat, he mentioned the wants of himself iuul iiis family. The next day he left, carrying with him supplies for his scpiaw. He was exceedingly grate- ful for the assistance, and promised to return in a day with his wife, who should wash and mend all our clothes as some acknowledgment of the kindness." Pages 134-5. Some pages further on the authors mention the relief they affoided to a small tribe of Indians, reduced by the scarcity of game to the verge of famine : " During the day family after family came in, a speciral cavalcade, the men gaunt and wan, mai'ching before skeleton dogs, almost literally skin and bone, dragging painfully along sleighs as attenuated and empty of pro- visions as themselves, The women and children brought up the rear, who — to the credit of the men be it recorded — were in far better case, indeed, tolerably plump, and contrasted strangely with the fleshless forms of the other sex. Although the Indian scpiaws and children are kept in subjection, and the work falls eliieily on them, it is an error to supposG that they are ill treated, or that the women labor harder or endure greater hardships tlian tlie men. The Indian is constantly engaged in hunting, to supply his family with food ; and when that is scarce ho will set out without any provision for himself, and often travel from morning to night, for days, before he tinds the game he seeks. Then, loaded with, meat, he toils home again ; and while the plenty lasts considers himself entitled to complete rest after his exertions. ■Ml 1- ■HI ?)| 50 1! ' I iiiini ! ' ii -'ilililll :.j|:{ III "'i :!! .iiiiii iiilHi ilH • ' The flelf-denlul of these men, and their wonderful en- durance of liunger, was iUustrated in tlie case of our hunter, Keenomontiagoo^'^ etc. Pages 145-6. "As this niisorable company came, tliey were invited to sit down by the fire. Their cheerfulness belied tlieir looks, and they smoked and chatted gayly without appear- ing to covet the meat that lay around, or making any request for food at once. No time was lost in cooking some meat and offering a good meal to all, which they ate witli quietness and dignity, too well-bred to show any sign of greediness. Although they proved equal to the consumption of any quantity that was put before tliem." Page 147. XXI. The great mass of rights available for the promotion of man's well-being are derived from the right use of his natural endowments. By enterprise and industry he may provide for his own wants. By practice and ingenuity he may increase his earnings and acquire a degree of skill by which his services rise in value. ^'^ providence and economy he may accumulate in some durable shape a part of the result of his labors. By forming domestic and social ties, he may at once acquire new rights and assume new obligations. Every new relation he holds may extend his interests and his influence, not only as husband, parent, kinsman, neighbor, but as one skilled in some important art or profession ; or as standing in some special relation to others, as proprietor, employer, agent, creditor, or debtor. All these relations bring with them rights and duties of more or less importance. As the number and variety of men's occupations and 51 pnrKuits multiply, tho complexity of their rights and duticti increase. The existence and nature of many ])iivate rights are obvious enough ; and others not so obvious, become clear to the mind on considering the relations of the parties concerned. But many, perhaps most men, being slack in observing and respecting the rights of others, all men but outlaws see tlie need of organizing a powerful agency for the defense of private rigiits, by punishing tresp.sses against them. And this duty imposed upon society, organized into the State, becomes in time exceeding complicated and laborious. '3 i ■4 XXII. One necessary result of society, that is of the close and habitual intercourse of numbers, is to exhibit the great contrasts between the conditions of individuals. Indeed civilization tends indirectly to aggravate that contrast. For many have no peculiar ability to av 'I themselves of the advantages which society and civilization bring within their reach ; while some others make the most of these opportunities. And although the tendency of civiliza- tion is to raise the condition of the whole mass of the people, it does so very unequally. Nowhere is there a closer approximation to personal equality than amidst absolute savagery. Yet, savage tribes have often died out from long-continued destitution, such as seldom occurs in civilized communities. It would seem that, in order to attain her ends, what- ever they may be, Nature works by inequalities. Perfect equality is nowhere found in her productions. Of the multitude of leaves on the same tree, no two are exactly m i 'Iliii £;,'! 'i lii.i 1 jl ! '. 1 [ i .1 '■..'■[ ■ 1; ■ 1 ' .; 1 1, ; 11 (i 1 M ' i ; j 1 ll 1 i 1 ! I j , ] i ! \ i I'l ill iii^ii; iil 1 ,i i 1 i. , 1 1 ■. " if 1 1 f 52 alike. This is not only true ^f Nature's productions, but it is equally true of their destinies. Of the thousands of acorns that fall annually in the forest, one may become a mighty oak. The rest are crunched and swallowed by the swine. Of the thousands of eggs spawned by the salmon on her annual ti*ip up the river, all but one may be devoured in ^arly youth by other fish ; and the one, after escaping numberless similar perils, may attain a size and maturity far surpassing its mother's. 8o man, another of Nature's productions, runs many hazards: many die in infancy, a portion in immature youth, otiiers ])rove utter failures later in life ; many succeed in a measure, a few stumble upon great success in life. This is a wise saying wherever it comes from : " I returned and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor tlie battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favor to men of skill ; but time and chance happeneth to them all." It must be obvious to every one, that the natural powers, capacities, and characteristics of men vary greatly, almost without limit ; and their fortunes quite as much ; without our beina; able to account for these variations. Yet we see, notwithstanding, that in the midst of these fortuitous contingencies, the condition to whicli men attain still depends cliiefly on the use each one makes of his natural endowments. Nature gives, to some, i)ower8 and capacities both of mind and body, far superior to what the average run of men receive. The result is great inequalities in talents, skill, knowledge, and acquisi- tions among those who make up human communities. Nature having coinmand of boundless variety, tolerates similarity, but seems to ablior equality. Yet she has provided laws controlling the final result 53 of human activity, through which the success of the more successful redounds to the benefit and advancement of tliose wlio are less so. Thus the enterprises of the more able lead them to need the aid, and engage the services of tliose who are less able than themselves. Moreover, she has endowed men, or many of them, with a strong pro- pensity to communicate knowledge and skill, and to bestow the necessaries of life on the ignorant, the unskill- ful, and the destitute. The more gifted at least of the human races have been so constituted, that their exertions tend to the amelioration of the condition of their own race. The comparative well-being of individuals differs widely even in the most primitive society ; and the con- trast in this respect between individuals, and also families, becomes more marked with each step of progress from that primitive state. Some pious people who look beyond this life, think that this tendency in Nature td favor inequalities is only a reflection from the world above. That inequalities here are only the shadows which characterize the con- ditions of those who have passed away to another state of existence. Not that inequalities there are the result of the same causes as here. For looking on this life as a state of probation merely, they think that the means of man's success here, may cause his ruin there. XXIII. 1$ I ■ L •I I Cm I hi Perfectly natural causes combine to produce the result of inequality in society. One great cause is this : With the increase of skill, knowledge, and foresight in their pursuits, some men, not always otherwise the most highly gifted, acquire the art of accumulating much of the 4 4111! ^l! 54 m fji! ' i i|!|:^!! 'I: III til il^ Iti result? of their industry, or their success, in such per- manent forms that it becomes wealth ; not the plenty of a day, a week, or a month, but an abundance that can be kept for an indefinite time for employment in future use — that is wealth or property. Wealth may have been acquired even before the domestication of animals ; but the earliest form known to us that wealth assumed was that possessed by Job and Abraham — large herds of various cattle. The skillful, vigilant, and industrious herdsman became rich, while the unskillful and negligent herdsman continued or became poor, and perhaps was at length compelled by want to seek service with his prosperous neighbor. Nor could he justly complain of his own poverty, or envy the other's wealth. In more advanced timep wealth assumed more per- manent shapes than that of the flocks and herds, which so suddenly failed patient Job — the sliape of improved and cultivated lands, useful and costly buildings, and other durable results of labor, foresight, and economy. We have already named the two great motives that prompt men to industry and providence : the desire to better their own condition, and the instinctive anxiety to provide well for their offspring : to advance them per- manently to a better condition than they themselves had formerly occupied, and in which, perhaps, they had suffered many privations. We believe that this last instinct has been, both directly and indirectly, the chief agent in raising men above barbarism, and has built up civilization. This trait of character, providence for our offspring, is most strongly marked among the higher races of men, and especially in the best specimens among them. In m fact, if all races spring from one source, as to parentage, this trait probably originated the higher races which we see predominating in the world. It is characteristic of these races, not to be absorbed in the present, but to feel iinich interest and to give nmch thought to the past and future ; this interest being most commonly exhibited in inquiries into the history of their forefathers, and in anticipations as to the prospects of their descendants. Looking back and looking forward in time is character- istic of the higher and more gifted races of men. Much as tliey cling to their hardly earned acquisitions, many of them readily part with no small portion of their gains, to enable their children to start in life from a higher intellectual level, and to fit them for a higher social i)osition than they themselves ever reached. This introduces a second cause of social inequality. For these provident parents are, as a class, intellectually and morally, superior to and more energetic than the aver- age man ; and, in spite of the many startling exceptions to the truth of the maxim that " Like begets like," that maxim has a broad foundation in truth, not only as to physical but as to mental and moral qualities. And in this case the general result is, that the difference in the conditions of the various classes of men is widened, not merely by tlie success and advancement of some capable men of one generation ; but, in many cases, by the success and advancement of several generations of capable men, each generation successively starting from the vantage- ground of wealth, inherited culture, social position, and family influence, to which it has boen raised by its pred- ecessors. The truth is that, in more than one sense, inheritance lies at, and ie the foundation on which civil- ization has been built up. 66 ( .,! , ( Nothing has tended more strongly to raise the general condition of men in intelligence, morals, manners, and general well-being, than the existence of classes, raised above tlie necessity of daily toil, or engrossing care to supply their pressing wants, having leisure and means, and many of them a craving for higher occupations. With intellectual races, idleness, if not the mother, often proves the grandmother of mental progress. Leis- ure affords the opportunity of acquiring a higher educa- tion, and has been the chief agent in extending knowl- edge and skill, and in the cultivation of art, science, letters, and philosophy. So«^iety never rose above barbarism where there were no men of leisure and means. Wealth and culture pos- sessed by individuals have originated and sustained most of the enterprises beneficial to mankind. For, of neces- sity, the beneHts of these acquisitions by and to individ- uals for themselves, by a law of Nature's providing, gradually extend themselves throughout society. It is this provident law that creates the only " Socialism " that Nature tolerates. ' • xxiy. The two instincts to which we lately referred have been at work ever since men have existed. Man's crav- ing to better his own condition, and, yet more effectually, his desire to provide for his offspring, and to advance them to as good and even to a better condition than he himself had experienced. These constitute that double founda- tion on which civilization and all human progress have been built. Like exogenous plants, human nature has two prolific shoots, two vigorous instincts from which 57 have shot up human society ^nd institutions in the best forms in which we have yet seen them. In fact, there are no other sources from which they could have origi- nated and continued to thrive. And although the first of tliese instincts is but a narrow selfishness, and tlie s^^cond a widening selfishness, which embraces, not merely ourself, but that which springs from us, as the branch from the tree and the leaf from the twig. Nature has provided that that very selfishness, especially in the latter form, sliould result in widely ex- panding benefits to mankind. For she has further created the necessity tliat men should obey the social instincts that lead to the formation of society ; and, morever, has made it impossible for men in society permanently to keep their acquisitions in skill and knowledge, and the results from them, exclusively to themselves. We may observe of the latter instinct, that man natu- rally craves an heir to his acquisitions of every kind. Moreover, we often see those i/ho have lost their (;hil- dren, or never had any, as devoted to nephews and nieces, or to grandchildren, as if tliey were their own immediate offspring. So strong is this craving to occupy the parental relation, that many childless people adopt the children of strangers, and not seldom very foolishly, without regard to the parentage of the adopted ; forget- ting that traits of character are very often inherited, and that estimable people will seldom part with a child, how- ever many they may have. What is termed " bad blood " expresses in two words a long-observed truth. Yet we have more than once known very reputable, and, apparently, not otherwise foolish people, adopt the child of a notoriously unprinci- pled and profligate parent, cliiefly because the child was ki ',\i : 'ft I it i 58 attractive in person and ways, and the parent ready to make a formal transfer of his or her right in il. These adopters in the end have, not seldom, reason to be thankful that they can say truly, what Shakespeare's Leonato regrets he cannot say, when lie discovers the sup- posed abandoned character of his daughter Hero : ** Why bad I not, with charitable band, Took up a beggar's issue at my gates, Who, smirched thus, audmir'd with infamy, I might have said, ' No part of this is mine, Tbis shame derives itself from unknown loins.' " In such cases of ill-considered and unwise adoption as we have referred to, the adoption is often concealed from the child, and also from the associates of the adopt- ing parties. A very unfair thing to them. The child is given, to recommend it later in life, all the sanctions of the good character and position of its supposed parents. Let us imagine that Leonato had adopted some vicious beggar's brat, and that Hero had been justly charged with her dissoluteness. To what a fate had Count Claudio been betrayed by Leonato's imposition ! For, in truth, we have usually made a long step toward know- ing a person's true character, when those of his or her father and mother are known to us. To our mind, the instinct which Nature has stamped on us (so strongly on some, so weakly on others) to task ourselves through life for the benefit of our offspring, proves a great deal. Not only the right of inheritance in the offspring, but the right of the parent to choose his heir, at least, from among them. Moreover, this dispo- sition to adopt children by childless people seems to be an instinct peculiar to the human family, although do- mi i 5& mesticated animals can be trained to adopt offspring not their own. From this provision of Nature as to adop- tion, wliicli amounts to a craving with some childless people, we are disposed to infer that the right to bequeath proj^ertj, especially with childless people, is strongly founded in nature. We greatly err, if the French law as to inheritance of lan<] does not outrage the right of the landholder. No matter how he may have acquired his land, or how he may wish to dispose of it, on his death the law steps in, and divides his acres eqtially among his children. This provision originated in a political policy, at a critical time. After tlie revolution of 1789 large estates, covering half of France, were confiscated and divided. In framing the " Code Napoleon " it was thought that the more the land was cut up among landholders the more difficult it would be to bring about a counter-revo- lution, and to restore the old proprietors and the old Government. This policy is still in high favor with the Government and people, from the conviction that where tliere are no large proprietors a class is got rid of who in- fluence the people, and might oppose the Government. The policy and legal tendency is now to cut up France into potato patches and cabbage gardens. No proprietor shall influence the vote of universal manhood suffrage. We believe that as long as the French hold on to their present law of inheritance of land and their universal suffrage, tliey will have out two heavy anchors mooring them to an unstable and unprosperous political condition, with a perpetually recurring revolutionary ferment and agitation. V l\ 11 1 i?\ (511 i ! 60 XXY. mm ^;;i\ i !'! On what solid foundation can we build up the right of ^ private property in an individual, to the exclusion of all other persons ? Each person, who is not idiotic or imbecile, lias been endowed by Nature with some share of physical, intel- lectual, and spiritual energy, which is to serve his pur- poses during his natural life. We may assume, since Nature has given these energies to him, that they are his, and belong to no one else. The amount of these energies not only varies greatly in different persons, but they may be wasted, misused, or perish for want of use. We can do nothing through life without expending some portion of them ; and we sometimes expend them prema- turely. In the expenditure of them our moral responsi- bility chiefly lies. By judicious use and husbanding of them, they usually last as long as we last, and expand beyond our first estimate of them. They are the impor- tant part of ourselves. Wh'enever a man has expended a part of these ener- gies, either physical, intellectual, or spiritual (usually he expends them simultaneously), in adapting to his own use some part of the crude basis which Nature furnishes for us to work on, whether the basis be material or im- material —that is, ideal ; whether it be matter, or the laws governing matter, or the faculties of the mind ; if another deprive him of the results of his labor and ingenuity, he is robbed of a part of himself, which he put in his work. This is equally true, whether the result of his labor take a ii.aterial, or a purely immaterial and ideal shape : whether, on the one hand, he build a house or a ship, or 61 inclose, clear, drain, and cultivate a farm ; or, on the other hand, whether he make some new and useful inven- tion in mecha?iics, science, or art ; or compose a poem, a book, or a picture, wliich gains popular favor — so that otlior men derive pleasure or instruction from it ; and are willing to pay something rather than not enjoy the use of it. In each of tliese cases he is equally entitled to the benefit that may be derived from the result of the labor and talent he has expended on it. But where the result of his labor is inseparately joined to a material form, as the house, the sliip, or the farm, it is much easier to secure to him the benefit from his property, on wliich he has expended, perhaps, a large portion of his energies — that is, of himself — than in the case in which he lias expended them on the production of an ingenious invention, or on a popular poem, or book, tliat might be a source of profit to him. Ideas are im- material ; and however much labor and time may have been expended on them, any one that has access to them may copy, and carry them off. But in either case, wliether the product be material or ideal, the producer has the same right to demand from the community which professes to protect his rights, all reasonable vigilance and diligence in the protection of those rights, the results of his labor, whatever may be their nature. For they can be identified as his, and no other man's. AVho will deny the obligation on the Government under which a man lives, to defend his material property from robbery, and his character from defamation ? Is it leas bound, or is it difficult or impossible, to pro- tect his immaterial acquisitions, when made accessible to others? In the case of purely intellectual property, all that should be required of the producer, is that he should J &2 liii' 1 ; furnish proof that it is his own, and that he intends to retain his property in it, and not give it away to the public. It is this vast but gradual accumulation of acquisitions of all kinds of property, material, and, yet more, intellect- ual, through past ages slowly disseminated throughout civilized countries, which has raised these countries to what they are. All that governments can do to promote the develop- uient of human capacity, is to protect individuals in the free exercise of their powers, and secure to them the en- joyment of their acquisitions. Bnt the best governments that have yet existed, by intermeddling with matters foreign to their duties, and by neglecting duties truly in- cumbent on them, have often marred and defeated the provisions Kature has made to enable men to elevate them- selves, and indirectly, but surely, their fellow men. As to property in land, we need only say — every country, in which land has not been appropriated to the exclusive use of individuals, has continued in a state of barbarism. This barbarism has been the most absolute where proprietorship by private persons was least known. It diminished under village proprietorship, and even un- der nomadic pastoral life — when local right of pasture is claimed, and acknowledged, as with the Mesta in Spain. But it never disappears, except where the title of indi- viduals to the exclusive use of most of the soil is fully es- tablished, and recognized by the law. In every populous country the law has rigidly pro- tected private rights of property in land. Without this rigid protection of private property in land, no country ever became densely peopled. Thence we infer that without this rigid protection of private property in land, cy.\ the bulk of mankind would never have come into exist- ence, to complain of being robbed of their share of Nat- ure's bounties. To whatever pursuits men devote tlieir talents, industry, and enterprise — wliether to fannint^, ormininpj, or manu- factures, or commerce, or navigation, or professions such as law, medicine, or civil engineering, etc. — the ultimate sliape wliich they naturally seek to give to the results of tlieir success, as a provision for themselves, and for their families after them, is property. And where their suc- cess has been great, it usually takes the form of landed property. This is a wise, although worldly prudence, without any taint of criminality about it, unless we can trace that in tlie means and the arts they used to acquire wealth. Even ill those cases in wliich we are disgusted at a selfish anxiety to accumulate ; as long as it keeps within the hounds of honesty and fair dealing, we must admit that men have a perfect right to earn and to save ; and must see that the wise providence of Nature has made it diffi- cult for the most selfish man to acquire riches, without giving increased and profitable employment to those who need it. We may despise the agent, but we must ap- prove of the result. SI! !''. 1 XXVI. All value and utility is the result of the industry and skill of individuals applied to the crude materials furnished by Nature, which thus become property in private hands. It is not difficult to form a clear conception of most private rights, nor to perceive the need of some powerful protector for their defense. M ' f / ww^ m flV 1,1 ,, iiif J 64 But with tins protector, the State, another class of rights come into existence, and obtrude themselves on our attention. Their nature and extent are not so easily de- fined and limited. They are called '* Public Rights." It is evident that there was a time when the State, as such, did not exist ; that it must have come into existence after individuals had acquired some rights for themselves, and, probably, after society had made some progress toward a community. For the State originated in the feeling and experience of the members of this com- munity, probably in its infancy, that each one needs some protector to his rights, both original and acquired ; and in the instinctive conviction that this protector must be found in a union, for the purpose of mutual defense ; and in the organization of the strength and resources of all the individuals having social relations and intercourse with each other. We may say that the political body, in its origin, grew out of an incorporeal abstraction, an ideal but crude con- ception, suggested to individuals by their dangers, fears, and self-seeking needs. To a great extent it is still so. For the State lias no personality. It can produce nothing ; it can create no value, and acquire no property, but through the agency of individuals. It cannot even take counsel or action but through the same agency. And it cannot command these services without means and value wherewith to maintain its agents. And these means can only be obtained through the contributions of individual members of the community. The State, in itself, being impersonal, cannot ar fields, grow crops, build, or manufacture ; or even make laws, or administer justice, but through the agency of in- dividuals, employed and maintained through the means 65 supplied by other individuals. In short, it is only an in- corporeal trustee of whatever it holds in the hands of its ui^onts, for the benefit of those who have contributed to its resources and means of action. But as all private rights are in constant danger of vio- lation, until some ])owerful agency is organized for their defense, all who feel that their rights are in danger, readily unite to contribute, each some of his private means, or of his personal resources, to enable the new- horn State to enter on its duty of protecting the rights of each and all in the community. The State exists only to serve the purposes of the in- dividuals, not the people to serve the purposes of the State. In short, the State, and the government, which is but the organized a<^oncy of the State, grew naturally out of the needs of individuals, each seeking security for his own private rights. And although, historically, the origin of the State, with its government agency, is remote and obscure ; and its development and complexity have been of gradual growth, from the increasing multiplication and more complex nature of the rights of individuals ; we have no reason to think that the original, primitive end and pur- pose for which it came into existence has changed. Its simple and single object is still the protection of private rights. •' Public Rights," or the riglits of the State, unlike ()rivate rights, have in themselves no original source of existence. In their nature they are altogether deriva- tive, springing from the necessity that individuals feel that in. order to secure these private rights, they must furnish the means with which the State shall oppose and contrc wo evils incident to human society : ■A [iii Wi Hi' m 1. The violation of private rights by evil doers within the pale of the community. 2. And by foreign enemies from without the pale of the community. In order that the State may have the means of admin- isternig justice between indivi(hials, and of preserving order in tlie community, it must have the command of some persons, efficient in body and mind, and some material means for their maintenance, in return for their services. To enable the State to repel tlie assaults of enemies from without, it needs the services of a great many more^, and very efficient persons, and very abun- dant means for their support, and moreover for their equipment and employment. The State must thus or- ganize two special agencies: one for the administration of justice at home ; the other, for the defense of the commu- nity against foreign enemies. In primitive times the mode of proceeding was simple eiKmgh. If the local chief or magistrate, in any part of the country, needed an assisting force to arrest offenders, and bring them to justice, he had recourse to what we may call a posse co//ntatuKS, summoning all the able-bodied men of tlie neighborhood to give loyal aid in enforcing the law. If a foreign enemy crossed the frontier, or threatened attack, the head of the State summoned all able-bodied men to join him in arms, to assist in beating back the enemy. In these short campaigns, usual in early times, each man was expected to provide for his own subsistence for a time, or the seat of war furnished it. But the simplest and most economical government is a very costly thing ; and can be maintained in efficiency only by much personal service, and the expenditure of a 67 large amount of valuable commodities. Thus, in time of war, when such provision is not fully made beforehand by the State, its army eats up and desolates the province it undertakes to defend. However costly these prepa- rations for defense may prove, as without them there would be no security for either the personal or proprie- tary rights of any one, it becomes obviously necessary that all in the community should unite in the surrender of come part of their property, their personal service, and their Latural liberty, to furnish their common agent,' the State, with the means to defend the rights of all and each one. This is the motive which induces mankind to call governments into beinpf, and to support them. They burden themselves with the cost of maintaining a gov- ernment, in order to escape yet greater and more intol- erable evils. It is probabb, nay obvious, that in primitive ages, dur- ing the infancy of the arts, mankind were represented only by small and scattered tribes ; having little inter- course, and, perhaps, no permanent connection with each other. Yet we have monumental evidence of the existence of great nations, at periods to which we cannot go back in history, embracing millions of people, with great cities, flourishing and perishing in times so remote, that their language, and even some of their arts, have been lost ; and the skeleton of their history can only be put together by a careful study of monumental fragments, eked out by old and doubtful traditions. But until many of the arts have made great progress, no country can sustain a dense j)opulation, still less build up the great cities, whose multitudes and magnificence are proved by still existing ruins. • t mrnr If !i^' 68 XXVII. )i ■,?i ■if,! By what influences were these scattered tribes gradually aggregated into nations? The first and chief agent was War ; the second was Commerce. We can easily imagine a probable case, in the most prim- itive times, in which war would at once lead to the first "tep in aggregating separate trib.es into one body. An aggressive tribe harassing and attacking its neighbors, would awaken their animosity, and, if strong, would en- danger their safety. The natural feeling that " The enemy of my enemy is my friend^'' would at once lead two or more tribes, so harassed, to make a close alliance for mutual defense, especially if they were cognate in race and language. It might soon lead them further into making active war against their common enemy, in order to extirpate them, or drive them out of their neigh- borhood. The fact of having thus acted together successfully, secured their safety, and exhibited their united strength, would confirm their union, and, moreover, tempt other cognate tribes to join them. The successful leader, in the defensive-offensive war, would probably become the head chief of the confederated tribes ; which, by com- munity of language, of interests, and free intercourse and inter-marriage, would gradually lose sight of tribal dis- tinctions, and become one community. The aggressive and defeated tribe, if not extirpated, would seek allies to unite witli and strengthen it. Soon there would be two somewhat numerous communities, hostile to each other, each seeking to strengthen itself by drawing into its alliance all the tribes within reach ; and Hliiniv 69 there would be neither peace nor safety for anybody, in that region of country, outside of these two confedera- cies. If these rival communities differ in race, language, customs, and religion, their habitual, or at least frequent relations, would be those of war. We have, in the dawn of history, an example of this, in the prolonged struggles between the Aryan and the Turanian populations in the north of Persia, and in the countries to the east of the Caspian Sea. The former were even then an agricultural people, the latter con- tinued to be nomadic herdsmen. Nor has the contest ceased to this day. For the Turcomans, a branch or rem- nant of the Turanian family, continue their inroads upon, and their robberies of, the settled population near to tliem, and lose no opportunity of plundering the caravans tliat pass within their reach. As a common danger first taught men to value and seek union and combination for mutual defense ; so more frequent, numerous, and long-continued dangers, from more powerful enemies, led to further and more com- ])lete unions — wliich, outgrowing the early and simple tribal organizations, became States ; the more readily when a cognate origin and language suggested this union, which thus made up a true and natural nation, springing up by the re-union of kindred tribes. Thus, while society, in its simply social sense, arises from the social instincts of mankind, political communities originate from pressure from without, acting on the selfish instincts of men. In such cases, the actual conquest of a tribe, or of a province, if the people be cognate to the conquerors, often results in its indistinguishable incorporation with -:;Ji), m I 11 :;!{ 70 them ; which rarely happens when the race and languag^e of the two are different. In that case the vanquished long continue to be, in fact, if not in law, a subjugated people. It is very difficult to trace and estimate the number and variety of evils springing from the attempt to bring about the political union of discordant materials. Even when the union of different races into one nation occurred in very remote times, there seldom is a tliorough inter- mixture of races ; and the widely differing mental, moral, and physical traits distinguishing individuals, families, and classes in modern society, are largely due to this cause : difference of race. There is, at this day, no country in Europe in which such differences cannot be traced to this source. In many, perhaps most countries, we find proofs of the fact that the ruling class were of a different, and gener- ally, superior race to the mass of the nation. It was so in ancient Egypt, and is still in modern Egypt. In India, stratum after stratum of the population, to this day, easily distinguished as the offspring of successive races of conquerors, lie one over the other. In Russia the Scan- dinavian and tlie German elements overlie the Sclavonic. In France the Franc and tlie Burgundian invaders origi- nated the ruling classes ; and after the lapse of more than thirteen centuries, the traces of this conquest were still so obvious, that Napoleon Bonaparte once cliaracterized the revolution in France in 1789 as the insurrection of the Gauls against tlie Francs. In Ireland the Normans and the Saxons, and their descei' ants, have, for near eight centuries lorded it over the Celts; who derive their language, and their civilization, such as it is, from the conquerors whom they still call Saxons (the more numer- oils body). Indeed, it does not appear that the Irish ever were one nation, but a number of tribes, or petty principalities, ever warring with each other, until that conquest in the twelfth century. But for that conquest, possibly they might never have become civilized. The aljove examples show the extreme difficulty of amalga- mating people of different races into one nation. I if XXVIII. W E believe that this evil : incongruity of race, disap- pears, often by a summary process, in the following cases. When a civilized people have taken possession of territory hitherto occupied by savages, they have never yet suc- ceeded in imparting their civilization to their new sub- jects. These may, for a time, form a lower class, within the pale of their civilization ; but they do not become imbued with its essential characteristics; but merely put on some of its externals as a garment. In most cases, these savage races have simply died out before the conquerors, leaving their country to the intrud- ing strangers. For with many races of men, civilization and extirpation have proved, and are now proving, synonymous. The only safety any of them have ever found is, occasionally, in the inveterate hostility of their climate to the invaders. Such is the fate of the Nortli American Indians, of tlie jVIaoris of New Zealand, of the blacks of Austialia, and of the natives of most of the islands in the Pacific Ocean. Such is the process now going on in South Africa — with the Hottentots, Kaffirs, and other races. But the negroes of juiddle Africa, as far as we yet know, seem to afford the only exception to this result. > ,'VsJ , M ri ii'^!'. iiii'iir :ir',iih ' III Hitherto their malarious climate has protected them from extirpation. And in consequence of a forced emigration, the only emigration known to their race, they seem to have survived and thriven better abroad in slavery, than at home. For most of them have always been slaves at home — to masters black as themselves. It is only after this forced migration that they have ever been induced to put on the garb of civilization. But, low as is their intellect- ual capacity, they have proved themselves, the most im- itative of races, in copying the manners and habits of their masters. Yet when left to themselves, thev show a strong disposition to strip off this garment. For civiliza- tion hampers them sadly. A noted author who died some years ago remarked, "I am not sure that any nation has a right to force another to be civilized." But civilized nations do not seem to have entertained this doubt. Indeed, tlie nation, which profess the highest civilization, the greatest humanity, and the most scrupulous respect for the rights of other peoples, has been the most active and unscrupulous in attacking, not only rude and defenseless tribes, but even great nations, which were easily and safely assailable ; seizing on their territory, or parts of it, under the plea of civilizing them. Whose greed and liypocrisy was it, that strove to force opium and Christianity on the Chinese at the cannon's mouth ? They succeeded with the opium, but failed as to the Christianity. They are still making all they can out of their partial success, to console themselves for their partial failure. It has been said by some progressive people, who are looking for the perfectibility of man, through their material and mechanical advance in tlie arts, that Nature intended the surface of the earth for cultivation; and 78 that savages, who do not cultivate it, merely stand in the way of those who would. That the savage, in short, is a nuisance which ought to be abated. This plea, lame as it is, would not justify many acquisi- tions of territory, made by civilized nations, from savage or barbarous tribes. For instance, it does not justify the later British acquisitions in South Africa: where the country is best and chiefly suitable to pastoral industry, and was already well stocked with the well-tended herds of the KaflSrs, and other native tribes. But when we find that not a few of these herds have been driven off, and the herdsmen exterminated, or extirpated, to make room for the most frivolous of all industries, the rearing of ostriches, solely for their ornamental feathers, to gratify the vanity of dress-loving women, thousands of miles away from the evicted and starving Kaflir herdsmen ; we are disgusted at the falseness of the plea for robbing them of iheir pastiu'es. The best apology for the civilized conquerors of the territories of savage and barbarous people, is that these people, even more than the civilized, acknowledge no right hut that of the strongest. They, especially, obtained and maintained possession of their territory by violence and outrage against others. That is their sole right and title. Much as the Sj)aniards have been abused and denounced for their rapacity and tyranny while in possession of Mexico for three centuries ; their conquest of it was fully justifled by the fact, that it was the only way to put an end to the horrid human and cannibiil sacrilices of the Mexicans, with their annual tens of thousands of victims. They actually seemed to have fattened slaves, in order to eat them.* So with the English conquest of North ^m 111 ( 1 w \vi 'M ♦Prescott's Mexico. Book 1. Ch. 3d. pp. 24-5-6-7. r ,1 j ,1 1 ! ,1 mv 74 America. They merely exterminated tribes cliiefly occu- pied in extirpating each other. We need not farther discuss the right of civilized peoples, to enter upon the regions, roamed over, rather than occupied by savages. It is plain that the latter are outside of the institutions of these civilized invaders. Until incorporated with them, they are outlaws as to civil rights. Our aim here is to trace the position, relations, and civil rights of those, who are acknowledged members of a political community. The general result of war has been, not only to mould and weld many small communities into fewer and larger States; but to extirpate, or to subject the inferior families of mankind to the widening dominion and the multiply- ing numbers of the higher races. It is a common mis- take to suppose that the civilization of the latter has been the source of their superiority and their success. Their civilization is but one of the results of the higher endow- ment their race received from Nature. Institutions do not tyiake races, hut races make institutions. We have no proofs that the more highly gifted families of man- kind, which have taken the lead in attaining to civiliza- tion, and in acquiring wide and durable dominion, ever were similar in their natural, constitutional, endowments, to the savage and degraded races, yet to be found in vari- ous parts of the world. War is simply one of the necessary evils attendant on man's condition and nature ; but it is only one of them. And although the most obvious, it is not necessarily the greatest that can befall them. Notwithstanding the immediate effects of war; the violent death of many, and the ruin and desolation of more of its victims ; it often, in its ultimate effects, pro- 75 motes the civilization and the well-being of mankind. It ijjreatly .stimulates enterprise and the inventive faculties, and develops the energies and resources of a nation. As long as human nature retains its tendencies to vice and corruption ; a permanent cessation of all wars might utterly enervate and corrupt the race, substituting meaner vices for the more violent impulses which urge them on to warlike enterprises. There are other great evils which prevail in time of [)eace. The corruption of many, and the ruin and deso- lation of more persons, through the numberless wholesale rascalities, commercial and financial, of the last forty years, equal the evils of many a war. Who can measure the sufferings and misery caused by the potato rot in Ireland in 1846? Or by the famines in India, China, and Brazil, within twenty years ? Or by the plague in former centuries, or the Asiatic cholera in tliis century ? Or by the Reign of Terror in France — or even by that of the Commune in Paris ? Even the excessive overgrowth of a needy population, which often shows itself, is a greater and more enduring evil than many a war. It is certain that war, in all ages, has been eimobled by the spirit of self-sacrifice which men have displayed, on occasions calling for. and justifying the sacrifice, beyond ahnost any other emergency to which society is liable. We believe, in short, that war often takes the place of, and supplants other evils, quite as malignant and more enduring than itself ; and that an occiisional alternation of peace and war is the natural condition of human com- numities. prim 7i XXIX. Np:xt to war, coinniurco has been the chief a^i^ent in building up States, and in promoting civilization. Tiie two have co-operated with each other, not always walk- ing hand-in-hand, but alternately urging on the same result. Commerce at once increases the demand for the pro- ductions of industry, varying and multiplying their forms ; and at the same time drawing from a distance to one point, the necessaries of life ; thus enabling multi- tudes to live in close neighborhood with each other. This disseminates and increases knowledge — promotes skill in the arts, unites the strength and resources of numbers, creating tlius a powerful political community : which gradually extends its inliuence, its language, and its rule over a wide region of country around it. As nothing can successfully resist the encroachments of a great State, but the power of another great State ; it is not surprising that in primitive ages, any community which, through the accidental concurrence of favoring circumstances, attained to considerable eminence in popu- lation, arts, and knowledge, should be able, not being hemmed in by powerful neighbors, in a few generations to extend, first its influences, then its rule, over a wide circle of tribes and territories around it — and become, under able and enterprising princes, an empire covering an hundred provinces. But any true history of the origin and progress of political society, would embrace, among other series of developments, a long and shocking detail of crimes by communities against communities and individuals ; and of [ 77 individualB against others, and against communities. The liistory of men and of society is largely made up of the history of crime; showing how much mankind have mis- used the opportunities Nature has put within their reacli. Yet all the injustice, treachery, and cruelty, recorded, and unrecorded ; which even when known to us, fails to offend our better instincts, misled by passions, prejudices, and interests, do not prove that there is no such thing in Nature as justice, truth, and humanity, binding at once persons and on States. But this is beside our inquiry into the provision Nature has made in man's state and constitution, to enable him to raise himself and his race above their primitive condi- tion. XXX. WuEREVER mankind have succeeded in raising them- selves above their primitive condition, it will be found that this has been brought about by two causes : 1st. That the people of that community, or most of them, or the ruling class at least, belong to one of the higher races, and — 2d. That they have been, in a great measure, unob- structed by political and other influences, in their efforts to better their condition, and in the enjoyment of their acquisitions. The work government has to do — administer justice between individuals under various and complicated cir- cumstances ; and to secure the comnmnity and private persons from wrongs by foreign aggressors — is quite sufficient to engross the agency of the State, without thrusting other duties upon it. Its two duties in pro- 6 :4 78 tectinfif rif^lits, are both of a negative cliaractcr, conflifit- ing simply of tlie [)i'eveiitiou of wroiit^. It is no part of the duty of the State to feed the peo- ple, or eh)the them, or house them, or teach tliem tiieir trades, or to bestow on tliem any bounty. It has l)een said that the aim of governments shouhl ])e " tlie great- est good of the greatest number," a most misleading and mistaken niaxim, originating in a false conception of the purpose of government, leading to the grossest faUacies — to tlie usurpation by the State of a number of duties and prerogatives (piite foreign to its true end, which is not to take i)arental control of the people, in order to do them direct good, or bestow any bounties ujion them — thus teaching ])eople to expect the State to do some- thing more than protect their rights — to transfer to them some part of the advantages and rights others have ac- quired for themselves — to turn to the State as their parent and patron, to which they must look for the benefits they enjoy, thus misleading and corrupting them. The only l)enetit the State can bestow on indi- viduals without robbing other individuals, is securing to them their own rights. We have already spoken of " public rights " which are inseparably connected with ])ublic duties. It is evi- dent that, unlike private rights, what are called " pub- lic rights " have, in them3elves, no original source of ex- istence. In their essential nature they are altogether derivative. Until society is organized, public rights do not exist, but many private rights exist before that. The public rights can only draw their existence from the great nuiss of the rights of individuals. If there were no such things as private rights, public rights never could have came into being. Nay more, until we have 79 acfiuired clear ooncoptioiis of j)rivate ri^lits, and of their need of fiirtlier protection than tiiat of tiie ju'r-son to whom tiiey heh)ng, we could not conceive of any public right whatever. In all our reasonin«r us to " puhlic rights" we start with minds saturated v. ith convictions as to a multiplicity of rights vested exclusively in individuals. Public rights are merely the reHections or representatives of this great mass of j)rivate rights. To create public rights a portion or })ercentage of rights must be advanced from private sources, as a premium for the insurance of the great mass of rights remaining in private hands. '* Public rights," in short, are the sentinels drawn out from the ranks of the great legion or phalanx of the private rights of the members of the community, and posted around them ty mount guard for their safety. That such is the origin and nature of what are calletei-ing justice, and of defending the country, will not only need a head; but also, many other high ofticials, intrusted with the superintendence of various branches of the public service ; and it must make provision for maintaining all these officials in a style suited to the hn- portance of the positions they hold. The State that starves its officials, causes them to plunder th peoj)le, and d.e- fraud the State. Moreover it must have a seat of government, offices for the transaction of public business, and for ])reserving records. It must have a parliament house, a suitable res- idence for the head of the State; perhaps for many others high in office. It must have a treasury, jmr indirectly, from the inroperty and private 85 rights. The State exists not as an end in itself, bnt nierelv as a moans, fur tlie attainment of an end — the security of private rights. xxxir. Ilow, then, has the misconception arisen, and grown into a conviction, in not a few minds, that what we call ''pnhli(! rights'^ are not derivative, but original in their nature, springing from some source within tliem- selves ; jind that they are sacred in their character, be- yond private rights ? Political communities, both great nations and little States, have often been brouglit to such perilous extremi- ties, by lawlessness within, and hostilities from without, tiiat it became impossible to fix on any ratio between the private rights men should retain in their own hands, and those tiiev should contribute for the maintenance of the power and efficiency of the State. Ileturning to tlie use of the figure of speech : that public rights are sentinels, drafted from the ranks of the gnnit phalanx of private rights, and posted around it, to keep guard against the attacks wliich may be made upon this great body. The danger to the latter may become so urgent, that strong detachments have to be drawn from the nuun body, to form outposts to suj)port the sentinels. The urgency of the danger may so augment, that the use and command of the bulk of all private rights and personal services may be needed, for a time, perha])s a longtime, to ])rotect and preserve the existence of any private rights whatever. In tin's case the phal- anx of private rights becopies utterly broken up, the 86 ■litii organization is reduced to a mere skeleton ; and it be- comes difficult, perhaps impossible, to refill its ranks and restore its order. Tlius civil society, not only in small communities, but even in great States, has often been in such danger of utter ruin and disintegration, tliat no government but one of tlie most energetic, concentrated, and absolute cluiracter, and possessed of the most amj^le means, can provide for its defense and safety. At some period or other of its history, almost every nation has experienced this disastrous condition of its affairs, often more than once, and for long periods. These prc:^edents for the extreme powers and exactions of gov- ernment are not soon forgotten by either the governors or tlie governed. The latter become used to exactions and restrictions. The powers of the State are wielded by men in ofKce ; and it is the nature of men, in power, to grasp at more power. Thus all governments have an innate tendency to exalt tlieir prerogatives, to swell tlieir powers by claiming larger means of action, and b}' usurping new matters of jurisdiction : until many people liave been gradually led to believe tliat they themselves derived their rights through the grants of the vvvy government, which ex- ists only by tl contributions men have made from their ]n*ivatc rights, in order to bring into existence and ecpiip the State, for the protection of all ])rivate rights, which have been iiccpiired, nay, created, without any aid what- ever from the State. Wit Me new generations have been growing Uj) under this unnatural condition <»f the country ; so far, in some cases, luive these abuses been }mshcd by the governments, 80 graisping ha^"' been the usurpations of those who ex- 87 ereiaed tlie powers of the State, that these powers and prerogatives seemed to have no limit ; and it appeared doubtful whether anarchy and general robbery would be more intolerable than the rule of the great robber, orig- inally established and put into office, to prevent the very evils it was now perpetrating. We will give an example of this wholesale robbery and perversion of what is, perhaps, the most important right men can acquire. In what is now known as British India, although, in that imraensi and populous region every field had been brought under culture, and acquired its value and utility from the enterprise, industry, and skill of individuals ; it had become the law of the land, under the Mogul dy- nasty, that (^vary acre in tlie peninsula was the property of the Great Mogul, and every occupant of land was his tenant at will. And since the con<|uest of India by the Englisli, British lawyers have strenuously maintained that the Mogul rule of tenure was the fundamental law of the land ; and the Government has practically acted on that assumption. The land tax has, in many cases, proved a rack-rent, and led to the eviction of a multitude of landholders. This land tenure was the result of one con(piest : that by the Moguls, under Baber, a descendant of Timour the Great; and its continuance was the result of another conquest ; that by the English East India Company, now succeeded by the Britisli Goveniment. For the climate of India rendering it impossii)le for the British to colonize the country themselves, the last concpierors had, as in- ilividuals, no personal interest in the tenure of land there ; and unlimited power of taxation has proved a great con- venience to the Government. f 88 II! |i!l Mij . Under the feudal system a very similar theory, as to the tenure of land, was inculcated in western Europe. But the practical results were widely different. When the provinces of the Roman Empire, one after another, had been oveiTun and conquered by different nations and tribes from tlie north of Europe; in each case of conquest the king, or commander of the conquer- ing army, cantoned detachments of his forces, under sub- ordinate leaders, in the strongholds, or at the strategical points of the newly acquired territory, to keep the van- quished people in subjection, and to draw supplies from each province. As these detacliments and their chiefs were originally undei* the command of tlie prince or gen- eral of the conquering nation, the whole of the conquered country and all its resources wei*e assumed to be, for the time, at his disposal. But wlien these secondary leaders, most of them being chiefs of tribes, long accustomed to follow them in war and peace, had for years occupied, each a particular prov- ince or county ; and they had made themselves strong there, and secure in their occupation, among other means, by placing the smaller strongholds, with an allotted por- tion of territory, under the charge of their own tried and trusty officers; each of whom, in turn, had his own fol- lowers of tlie conquering tribe to provide for, the feudal system gradually, but naturally grew up. Each of these allott .1 territories became a lief, held, in theory, at the appointment, or by the grant of the sovereign, as lord ])aramount ; Init really as an estate of inheritance, not to be forfeited but fur some high crime, as treason or rebellion. And the officers of these great landholders, in their turn, became similar vassals to them, holding the lands allotted to each of them by his im- mediate chief, on a similar feudal tenure. m 89 We will not stop to inquire into all the causes why, in one conquest, that made !)y the Moguls, tlie occupants of land were ultimately reduced to the condition of tenants at will ; and why the other conquest, that made by the Germans and Scandinavians, should result in giving the landholders estates of inheritance. One fact is sufficient to account for the difference. These Northern conquerors in Europe were of the most gifted and intellectual raoes — individually self-reliant, and imbued with a strong spirit of independence ; which was only controlled by tlie obvious need, in war, of subordi- nation and obedience to discipline. The motive of these invaders, in ni.iking thiscon(pu)st of new territories, un- like that of tiu English in India, was to divide the land, more fertile and in a better climate than that which they had abandoned, among tliemselves (the conquerors) in proportion to the rank and merit of each warrior. But with a hostile people under and around them, they still had to keep up their organization as an army, and their connection with and obedience to their chiefs. With a nation of conquerors tlius organized, there was a solid reason for the reference of all tenures of land to the grant of the sovereign head of the nation. Out of this theory of the feudal system, that all land was held on conditional tenure, by grant from the sover- eign, in whom the ultimate title rested as lord para- mount, the lawyers and courts have manufactured the doc- trine of " Eminent Domain," vesting all land in the State. Their knowledge and familiarity with the " Roman Imperial Civil Law," politically a code of absolutism, matured in the reign of Justinian, helped the lawyers much in reaching their views on this point ; and court favor with arbitrary monarchs at later times, did yet T ' !■* tin 90 more to establish tlic le<:fal assumption as to tlie limited nglit of individuals to and in all their possessions. Jiut this doctrine of " Eminent Domain," usurping in its tendencies, and often tyrannical in its operations, is a perversion oi fact, nature, anj)riet<)rK iw, and onj^lit to he, as niueli theirs as any property can he. Tiiey have hou^lit it with their sorviees, or their money; and are indebted to no one for their ri^ht to it. The State is merely the channel through which they derive and trace their title, and has no claim on them more than on any other landholder under its protection. XXXIIL Bksidks thefundamentjil fact that all value and j)ro|)erty is the result of private industry, skill, and econotny ; the whole history of ])nblic and j)rivate pro])erty when con- trasted, proves that tlie State should possess and hold no more property than is sufficient to enable it to i)erform its functions as guardian of })rivate rights. Govermnents pay more and spend more than indi- viduals in similar transactions. Governments are more frecpiently and more largely clieated ; for they must always act through agents, the State itself havitig no personality ; aiul therefore, the vigilance, foresight, economy, and good faith, generated by private personal rights and interests, are wanting in the transaction of the State's affairs. No agent can be trusted like one's self. It would be useless labor to search far into the records of history for examples to prove how often States have been cheated by their agents high in office; while we have close at hand so many witnesses in the United States, and in the individnal States which, nominally, make up that federal body. Avoiding needless details IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) / A O / i^ M'> ^ ///// <. c. x° ip- W.r C/a ■J v. 1.0 I.I JIM IIIIIM IM III 40 M II 2.2 1 2.0 1.8 1.25 1.4 1.6 ^ 6" — ► ';^ & //, ''^. e. e] /a '/ /A Hiotographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 w. fe 6^ 92 i 'in ! and personalities, we may safely refer to the notorious fact, that of late years, among the politicians who have filled the chief posts under the Government of the United States, most of them went into office poor, and came out, or remain in office rich ; although it is well known that their salaries are too moderate to have made their fortunes. One political party has been in power twenty-three years; and its leaders and prominent supporters have become immensely rich ; and when, seven years ago, a statesman, who had earned the reputation of being a rigid reformer of abuses, and searcher out of political cor- ruption, was elected President of the United States, these bloated plunderers of the Treasury combined to procure a false return as to the result of the election, and put into office the candidate who had not been elected ; and from that time to this, the systematic plundering of the country by those who were pretending to serve it has gone on. Since the false President tilled a term, another election has taken place, under circumstances that show thai; the tirst essential sought in a candidate for that office, is well-established corruptibility. The fact of having had a hand in more than one of the gross frauds perpetrated on the Government and the people, is a strong recommendation to office with the active political agents who manage the elections. What we have said as to political corruption among the United States officials, is equally true, on a smaller scale (for there is less money to be stolen) as to the officials of the States, and the large commercial cities. (See the career of the notorious Boss Tweed.) Again, the private owner of property improves it at less cost than the State does, having no motive to pecu- late on his own rights, as the agent of the State has on those of tlie public ; not beins^ tempted to extravagance, by having the State treasury to fall back on. The his- tory of private expenditure is usually that of economy ; that of public expenditure is, very largely, that of cor- ruption and waste. The natural use of property is the use and enjoyment of it by private persons whose industry and economy created it. The possession and use of it by the State springs altogetlier from the existence of two evils, to guard against which every one must make some sacrifice of rights, to enable tlie State to afford security against them. The worst of all governments would seem to be a landlord government, like that of the British in India, claiming that the country, acre by acre, belonged to the State, and that State foreign to the country and people it governs. Any country in which the great bulk of tlie property, especially the land, say nineteenth-twentieths of it, is not in private hands, is in a false and unnatual condition. Simplify it as we may, the work government has to do is difficult and complex. Some of it concerns more espe- cially local interests ; and that portion of it is best man- aged when intrusted to authorities of a local origin. In fact, this feature — the localization of power, burdens, and responsibility, in matters in which that is practicable — is characteristic of the best governments. The centraliza- tion at one point, of all the authority and resources of the community for all public purposes (even of strictly local interests), especially if it be a great nation, is a cer- tain source of usurpation and political corruption. To give a simple exam{)le of the locating of the power of the State at different points where it is needed. The U'4^.-^^ ' 94 maintenance of roads, bridges, and ferries, although needed for the keeping open of the communications of the whole country, is especially important to each part of it, in whicli each of these public conveniences chances to be located. The chai-ge of maintaining them, therefore, is usually intrusted to a commission appointed in and for each county, who are authorized to levy the cost of main- taining these works, by assessments on the people of the county. The State may further empower these officials to take such part of a man's land as is needed for a high- way, paying him a valuation for it. So, a town or city being made a municipal corporation, acquires a local government for some limited purposes. The State may assign to it the power to purchase, by a forced sale, the land of private persons, within the limits of the municipality, in order to open or widen a street, to make a market-place, or a town hall, or for any other needed public improvement. But in assigning this power to local authorities, tlie State stretches the so-called right of "eminent domain" to the utmost extent that can be justified. It makes the county, or the city, a State with- in the State, for some local object, in order to facilitate the objects of local government and police ; and gives it the power to raise money, by taxes, for those i)urpose8. But this does not authorize the corporation to raise money by taxation for purposes foreign to the object for which its powers were granted. A municipal corpora- tion goes quite beyond its charter, when it raises money, by taxation, to carry on a commercial undertaking, or to assist in doing so ; as by granting a honus^ or an exemp- tion from taxes, to private parties, who establish a fac- tory or other business enterprise ; or to undertake such on the part of the corporation. Any tax-payer may well Mil 1 > i l|i! 95 object that, " This is taking my money for no legitimate object of government ; but to enter on, or assist other people in projects, in which I have taken no pait, and I may decline all responsibility." I believe that if a tax were levied for the exj^ress purpose of raising such a Jwnus, and tlie tax-payer were to refuse payment, tiie courts of law would sustain him in his refusal. XXXIY. it We have commented on tlie dangerous character of this doctrine of "eminent domain," and its liability to abuse in tlie hands of the State. But some govern- ments, fro!n sheer carelessness as to private rights, have gone far beyond the theory on which the right is founded, and given a false, unjust, and dangerous latitude to the right of " eminent domain." We will give a late exam- ple, near at hand : In an important province in British i^^ortli America a landholder had, on his farm, some very copious springs, used to work a mill, and he had, near at hand, a hill of considerable height. A town of twenty thousand peo- ple, three or four tniles off, on the other side of a con- siderable rivei", was in need of a supply of good watei*. These copious springs could furnish a good and sufficient supply ; and the hill, a good site for a reservoir, fvom which it could be conveyed to the town. Here was a plain case of one party owning property, which another party wished to acquire. The State had not the least interest in the matter, to call for the appli- cation of the right of "eminent domain." Audit cer- tainly had no right to assign its powers, under that 96 theory, to a municipality, to be exercised beyond its own jurisdiction and boundaries, in the county around it. The matter concerned only an individual on the one hand, and a corporation on the otlier. Common justice dictated that, if the town needed this source of pure water, the corporation must offer to the owner, a stranger and a foreigner to the town, his land lying miles outside of its boundaries, a price sufficient to induce him to sell it. If he refused their offer, this foreign corporation must offer more, or wait until he changed his mind. But the parliament of this province, full, doubtless, of wise and honest men, and especially of learned and adroit lawyers, not content, in their legisla ing zeal, with exer- cising the right of "eminent domain *^ for the State ; must extend and pervert its application for the convenience of a local corporation, to enable it to make a good bargain out of a private propri'jior. Under a statute enacted for this and similar cases, the property of a landholder may be, and was appraised at a very moderate price, indeed, a very low price, far below what he was willing to sell it at ; perhaps not one-tenth of what it was worth to this covetous and intrusive pur- cliaser ; taken from the owner by a legal proceeding which was a mockery of justice, and given to a corporation, with which he had no connection whatever. This law teaches the principle that : ' ' Where one man has property, which may be useful to, and is coveted by many, especially if that many be a corporation, the State will limit the price, and force a sale for their benefit." It is true that there have been a large class of cases, in which the State has forced the transfer of private prop- 97 crty, wliieli tlie owners did not wish to sell ; I mean land on the line of railroads. But these cases stand on a totally different footing. We have seen that the State, in order to perform its functions, as the protector of all private rights, must have access to every part of the country. It must have high- ways throughout the length and breadth of the land. Now railroads are highways of a peculiar kind, in addition to the ordinary highways. The means of rapid communication and transportation have become necessary to the State and community. To secure this, railroad companies are chartered. Under these charters, private landholders may be stripped of their land, or some part of it, by a forced sale to a railroad — not for the company's benefit, but to supply a supposed public need, or great convenience to the State and the community. No railroad company can ever acquire as high and clear a title, to the land thus obtained by these forced sales to it, as the light and title of the private persons, who have been devested of theii' land, to make wa^ for the railroad. These corporations are but chartered oommon carriers, subject to the law as such. It is true they have been granted, each a monopoly in the use of its highway, for three reasons : 1. Because, the peculiar construction of the road ex- cludes the use on it of the means of transportation used on ordinary highways. 2. Because, if their road were open to the trains of other railroads, accidents fatal to life and destructive to property, would be vastly multiplied. 3. In order to induce the company to make the great outlay needed to build the road and keep it in working order. '"ll <;M^I- 98 But these roadfi, having been brono^lit into existence purely for the beneiit of the State and tlie connnunity, are still under tlie control of the State ^ which :nay fix rates, times, and terms of transportation. It may, per- haps, even enforce a sale of the railroad with less stretch of authority than it had used toward the private landhold- ers, who had to make way for the railroad. As the State may have occasion to close one highway and open another, so it may do with a railroad. But it is bound to pay tlie corporation the cost, or at least the value, of its property. For the charter, granted by the State, was the inducement which led the corporators to the outlay they made. XXXY. We have said that the resources of the State consist of its claims on personal services, and on private property. Wiiat are the principles which should regulate and limit the exerc'se of these powers? First, as to personal service. The object of poHtical society ; the true motive that first drew men into, and still keeps them in it ; is to obtain the aid of their associates in defending their private rights. Any one who has joined himself to a political community, or has been born in it, and had his rights protected by it, is bound to give his aid in defending the rights of his associates, and in upholding the community from which they all seek protection. Thus, as was the usual practice in primitive times, the local magistrate may call on all the men in the neighbor- hood, to give aid in quelling a riot, or an insurrection against the law, in preventing a crime, or in arresting a 99 that is to es, tlie glibor- 'ection sting a criminal. Tlie State, when threatened by a great danger, as invasion by a powerful enemy, nuiy rightly call for the services of every man abh) to bear arms, to resist the enemy. And tliis is true in any part of the country especially in danger, even when a general levy is not needed thronghout the whole country. Moreover, there are other public duties, in which the official agents of the State need occasional aid ; which may be rendered, and in some cases, are best rendered l)y men not in office— for example, by men drawn as jurors, to ascertain facts, involved in cases brought into court. There are many other matters in which private men may be jnstly called upon to perform occasional public duties, as witnesses, appraisers, experts, etc. - But the right of the State to demand personal service, can never be justly extended to compelling a man to adopt a special profession, trade, or calling. Although tlie State may, and often has, compelled men to bear arms, or labor on defensive works, it lias no right to choose a man's occupation, or means of earning his living, for him ; to compel him to take ujd the trade of a soldier or sailor, any more than the profession of a lawyer, or physician, or the trade of a mechanic, or the occupation of a plowman. It would be an utter perversion of the relations of the State, to those who compose the community which created the State, if these persons were not free to choose for themselves their occupations and pursuits, ac- cording to their aptitudes and opportunities. The State came into existence to serve the puq)oses of individuals ; not individuals to serve the purposes of the State. If any control in this matter of men's callings, external to the party himself, can be justly claimed, it is that of parents and guardians alone. fm I 100 W Nor, on a man's attaining skill in any art, science, or profession, has the State a right to force him into its serv- ice, in the exercise of his occupation. The State has no claim on an individual, beyond that which it has on all and each one in the community ; un- less he has made a contract with the State, binding him- self to the performance of services in the line of his pro- fession. When, in England, five centuries ago, Edward III was about to build Windsor Castle, in magnificent style; instead of alluring workmen, by contracts and wages, he assessed each county in England to send him so many masons, tilers, and carpenters, as if he had been levying an army. He showed great moderation in not first impressing the architects to design and superintend the structure, and the sculptors and painters to adorn this palatial fortress. This measure makes it manifest that the first elements of private right, and personal lib- erty, were not then understood, or were at times disre- garded in England. The only exception to this right of men, to choose their own trades and occupations, we can think of at this moment, is, where the State, to restrain a growing evil, and to abate a common nuisance, has taken charge of for- saken children, and youthful criminals. To relieve itself of this burden, it may apprentice the derelict children, to be taught trades, which, perhaps, as adults they would not have chosen. And, in the case of the youthful crim- inals, the State may turn them over to occupations, in which they will be placed long under vigilant control, as in the military or naval service. Yet when it is practi- cable, these derelict children, and even the youthful criminals, should be allowed some latitude of choice as to their callings for earning a living. 101 I can hardly imagine a grosser violation of the natural relation between the members of a comnmnity and the State which they have establisiied over themselves, than the French system of " conscription " : putting the names of young men into a lottery, to decide which among them shall take up the trade of a soldier, for the best years of his life — at wages beneath those of the meanest laborer ; in order that the rest of the community may cheaply escape from military service. This is a gross over- stretching of the authonty of the State. Yet, although in the extent of its application to the nation, it goes far beyond, in enormity it falls short of the old English press-gang system of forcibly manning the navy : arrest- ing as criminals sailors and watermen, anybody, in short, who looked like a longshoreman, and pressing them into the naval service. . These things, both in France and England, originated in the intense selfishness and injustice of the mass of the community— ever ready to sacrifice others to secure them- selves. Any man may devote his life, his labor, or his wealth for the good of his country. But his countrymen have no right to select any one as a victim for sacrifice, while others, under equal obligation to the State, are ex- empted. For example : When a horrid chasm suddenly yawned open in the forum (the story, we believe, is told in Livy's somewhat fabulous history) the soothsayers foretold that great calamities would happen, if the most valuable thing Rome possessed was not thrown into it. While they consulted as to what was the greatest treasure Rome had, Curtius Melius, a gallant youth, put on his armor, caparisoned his horse, led him into the forum, blindfolded, and mounted him. Then exclaiming " Rome has no treasure as great as courage and arms !" fT^ I 1 I 1 I ! I iiil! 5 ' f 1 109 he spurred his steed on to a desperate leap into the mys- terious chasm ; wliieli at once closed up, as if it liad never threatened destruction to Home ! Curtius may have had a riglit to take this fatal leap. Hut the llonianH had no right to throw Curtius into the chasm, even to attain that great end, the safety of liome. XXXYI. The end for which the State exists is to afford security to private rights. What we have learned to call "public rights " exist only for the protection of private rights ; came into existence after, and are derived from them. Private rights had come into being before there were any public rights whatever. We cannot repeat this truth too ofteii, or put it into too many shapes. For both statesmen andpi'ivate persons aie ever losing sight of this root of all political principles. In creating a State, and establishing a government, men are seeking, not an end, but a means to an end. Governments are not ends in themselves, but simply the means devised for attaining the great end — tlie security of private rights. Yet men have often, with this view, built up a great and irresistible power, which resulted in a ruinous and merciless tyranny, not protecting, but trampling on all their rights. The State cannot give protection to private rights, un- less it has the means of acting, the command of value, or of personal services. Indeed, it stands in need of values, chiefly to purchase personal services. But as all value is the result of the industry and skill of individuals ; they, if they want the protection of a government, must con- tribute the means needed to support it. 103 111 more primitive states of society, these contributions take the shape, chiefly, of personal service. In more advanced stages of civilization, they take the form, chiefly, of taxes. The motive for ])ayinac()n, or Sir Isaac Newton, has siddcd to the material and intellectual gains and welfare of those who liave come after them. Perhaps it is yet harder to say, how much, of a different character, English-speaking ])eo])le have gained from Sliakespeare and Milton. It would seem to admit better of calculation and measurement, the inquiring as to the material and intellectual gains we have derived through James Watt, the first successful employer of steam as a mechanical power, or through George Stephenson, the inventor of the locomotive engine. But the simplest of these in(|uiries would far overtask the powers of calculation and analysis Newton brought to the composition of his PrLicipla MdlheimxtiGa^ or those La Place used in preparing his Meehanique Celeste. It may be said that all these gifted persons, much as they may have achieved, were simply working out their own object for their own profit. If that were true — but in most cases it would be false — still, however great the results of their self-seeking labors, so nnicli more clearly would it prove Nature's provident arrangements for the . benefit of mankind. Through this providence of Nature there is a fermentation of ideas in human society, always at work, which, Kke the yeast kneaded into a batch of ,■ J. ■ m • 'I \ m A 116 dongli for baking, tends to ligliten and raiflo the wliole inaBs. XL. i Kindly Nature lias further shown her provident care of man, l)y iniphmting another trait in his constitutional or- ganization, as obvious, but, perliaps, not eo important to the progress and iinproveiuent of tlie race, as tliat of which we have last spoken. Nature has nuide man a sympathetic being. This seems to be, among animals, somewhat peculiar to man. For although we now and then see something like it among the brutes, especially those in a state of domesti- cation, its manifestations are rare and indistinct. Man is the only aninud we can characterize as constitutionally benevolent, beneficent, and charitable. For when man's evil passions, and his animosities, are not aroused, he is a well-wisher, and kindly, to his fellow man, and ready to interest himself in his welfare and success. We have noted a marked example of this in the unstinted hospitality expected and practised among the hunting tribes of the northwest of North America. Indeed, human society, in a semi-barbarous state, is not often wanting in hospitality. Very often that is made the special point of honor, even up to improvidence for themselves. Hospitality is not only the earliest and simplest shape, in which charity and beneficence can show themselves ; but all the charities of man to man originate in hospital- ity. The furnishing the destitute with shelter, food, and warmth, and opening a friendly intercourse between those who have and those who need. For it is unnatural to 117 humjin bein^fi in a condition of ease anlenty, to see, unmoved, tlieir fellow creatures destitute, ai'i suffering from want. Our training in domestic life, in reference to those dependent on us, prepares us to percei 'e, and promptly to relieve, any case of painful destitution, when it is in our power to do so. Accordingly we find hos- pitality most freely practised wher»3 it is most needed, and least likely to be imposed upon — in remote and little fre- quented places. We have not asserted too much in saying that all tlio charities of man to man originate in hospitality. It is making the stranger, for a time, a part of your family, sharing in all that they enjoy. If you follow out this idea, hospitality is often not limited to tlie relief of the material wants of the day. The host, in taking on him- self that part, is led to open his heart ; and will seldom withhold from his guest any information, instruction, or warning, he can give, useful or beneficial to the stranger. Thus affording valuable lessons to those who are often in urgent need of local and other intelligence. The hospitable home, moreover, is often not merely the scene of a brief hohpitality. It is, not seldom, a hos- pital for the relief of the sick or the wounded, and a school of instruction affording precious lessons to those in urgent need of them. In out-of-the-way places, where hospitality is most needed. Nature has provided a stimu- lant to the exercise of it, in the craving, of those who live retired lives, to get intelligence and hear news from the outer world ; so that the host may thus often learn much from the stranger under his roof. We have said that one of the effects .of society, in bringing numbers together in habitual intercourse, is to exhibit strongly the contrasts of their condition. We 4^ r. . M i-isM iH 1 !l l! f\- \ 118 are not slow to perceive that, in many cases, want and snlferino: are the result of accidents and misfortunes, springing often from temporary causes ; and that some timely assistance may completely relieve them. When we cannot trace the evils suffered, to the conduct and negligence of xhe sufferer, we are strongly tempted to give liim snch relief as is in our power. And even when he is experiencing the effects of his own folly or vice, we may assist him until our sympathy is overtasked, and our charity worn out. We have to learn gradually to disti guish between unavoidable and, what may be called, criminal destitution, arising from the folly, im- providence, or indolence of the sufferer. All charity is, at lirst, that of individuals, or at most, that of families; and it takes all the various forms of benevolence. But occasionally cases of want and destitu- tion occur in society, far beyond the means of individuals to relieve them. Several charitable persons are prompted to divide among them the task of relieving this accumu- lated mass of suffering. In the midst of a dense popula- tion we soon learn to recognize the occasional occurrence of wholesale distress, and also the frequency of imposi- tion on charity. We see the need of permanently organ- izing voluntary combinations among the charitable, in order that each one may know what the others are doing ; thus adopting method in our good works, and guarding against systematic imposture. The combining of their charities by individuals gradu- ally led to the founding of hospitals, of almshouses, and very largely to the association of persons of the same trade, or craft, for occasional mutual relief. Probably the first hospitals founded were lazar houses for the relief of lepers. In the Middle Ages a cutaneous ««p i i i I ! 1 in 122 England and elsewhere, the Church, charging itself with tlie care of the poor, made tJiat one cliief ground for getting into its liands as much property, of all kinds* as possible. The parish priests and the monastic clergy, differing much on other points, united in working on the superstitious fears of the sick and the dying ; and the bishops usurped jurisdiction over the probate of men's wills, and over the distribution of the personal property of intestates. This grasping policy, in time, vastly swelled the wealth of the Church. That was constantly growing. It not only enabled it to feed vast numbers of the poor, to support many hospitals, the utmost splendor in public worship, and in the retinues of great prelates ; but to practise a politic hospitality to people of rank on their journeys ; for the episcopal palaces, monasteries, and priories spread over the country, were not only more numerous and better furnished, but far safer than the inns in those troubled ages. All this swelled the influence of the Churcli, which w^s constantly acquiring additional wealth, and more numerous and larger landed proper- ties. As all this territorial property came into the hands of corporations which, unlike individuals, never die ; and churchmen held and taught the doctrine that it was a sin for them to alienate what had been dedicated to the service of God and his saints ; it became obvious that if this process of acquisition continued long, the Church would become the sole proprietor in, and of the country. In addition to these acquisitions, the Church, in Eng- land, made some long steps toward assuming legal juris- diction, both in civil and criminal cases ; and even went so far as to urge the setting aside of the common law of 123 the kingdom in many matters, and substituting for it the canon law, borrowed hirgelj from the Iloman civil law. But here the clergy found that, in their usurping mood, they liad overstepped the bounds of prudence ; the. peremptory answer of the Barons in Parliament was: Nolumus leges Anglim mutare: A blunt refusal to change the customary laws of the kingdom, including trial by jury, and viva voce testimony in open court, for a foreign code patronized by the Church and the Papal power. This condition of aifairs in England led to the enacting of the statutes of Mortmain^ prohibiting the alienation of land for charitable uses by will, or by deed not made a year before the death of the owner ; in order to prevent priests and others from importuning a dying man to con- vey his land to such uses for the good of his soul. It led also to other legislation against the encroachments of the Church and the Papal power. These MoHwahi laws were especially needed then and there ; but they are useful at all times, and in all coun- tries ; for it is natural and riglit that the bulk of property of all kinds should be in private hands, for it was all cre- ated by the industry of individuals for their own use. At that time, moreover, in England, the vast and grow- ing wealth of tlie Church was under the influence, if not the control, of a foreign and (at times) even a hostile power, the Papacy. At a later day, after the Reformation, the peculiar state of the' times, both as to religion and politics, gave the English Government a most plausible excuse for usurp- ing the patronage and control of charities of all kinds. In the case of endowed charities, indeed, one of the two great duties of the State, the administration of justice, i n \ , ! 1 124 Uiti ;":■ imposed upon it the obligation to see that the endow- ments were not perverted from the design of the donoi", and misapplied by those into whose hands they had .fallen. In time, doubtless, many of these endowed char- ities were grossly mismanaged, and became liable to great abuses and frauds. To the State, therefore, the inspection of them, but not the patronage, properly fell, in admin- istering justice. In England, before the Reformation, the wealth and abuses of the Church had brought into existence a vast pauper population, and fostered their idleness and va- grancy. It had no means of subsistence but the ill-judged doles of the churches and monastic houses, and the private alms which the Church exhorted the faithful to give to these beggars : "All that is given to them," said the Church, ' ' is but returning to God some part of the abundance with which He has blessed the giver." But, usually, the clergy preferred being themselves the al- moners, or the channels through which these fountain- streams of charity shuuld flow. If the channel itself was dry, it naturally absorbed much from this stream of benevolence. After the Reformation, England found itself overrun with sturdy and lawless beggars, who formerly drew their maintenance from the indiscriminate charity of the monasteries and convents, now dissolved. They had been trained up to a life of vagrancy and indolence. Here was a new evil, a nuisance spread over the face of the whole country, with which the State had to deal. It did not deal with it wisely, certainly not successfully. As a remedy for this evil, Parliament, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, entered on that series of enactments which gradually grew up into that portentous code, the 125 a English Poor Laws," a vast mass of unwise legislation of wliicli we are not likely to see tlie end. The poor laws, witli the decisions under them, would fill a large part of a law library. In this legislation the State steps in, and undertakes to administer all the charity for the relief of pauperism ; and at length went so far as to make it criminal, under most circumstances, to ask relief from private persons. What is charity in its restricted, vernacular sense, of relieving the wants of the needy ? An essential element of charity is depriving yourself of something of your own, useful to you, in order to relieve the wants of an- other. Charity includes self-denial. In tliis sense the State cannot practise charity. For the State, not earning or producing anything, has no fund out of which it can, by practising self-denial, meet the demands of charity. The State can no more practise charity than I can, out of the purse intrusted to me for safe keeping, by another man. The most that the State and I, in this case, can do, is to practise the charity of Robin Hood, take from the rich to give to the poor. Private charity, in fact, has a great fund at its disposal, and often draws on it freely. But this fund, if skillfully usurped by the State and artfully used, can be turned into political power. Those who represent the State step in, and turn this stream into channels of their own choosing. They assume the duty and the power to regu- late all the spontaneous benevolence of individuals. It can be turned into political power, and therefore belongs to the State. By simply converting what is naturally private charity into a tax and a burden, to maintain a system of relief by the State, they teach the beneficiaries to claim it as a right, with thanks due to no one — as if ,ii ■V r' : li ! I ' ■llr t ij nil 1 126 they had naturally a legal claim on the products of other nrien's labors and savings. It tends to make all the needy and unfortunate no better than restless and vagrant tramps, the pests of all well-ordered society. Naturally, a member of a political community has no claim of right to require the State to provide for his wants. This is not one of tlie purposes for which the State came into existence. The business of the State is to protect him in the exercise of his natural rights, and in the enjoyment of the results of his exertions. Rightly understood, there can be no such thing as State charity. The making it a public burden, the support of it obliga- tory on individuals, in the shape of taxation, utterly changes its nature. It is charity no longer. As well might the law decree tliat hospitality to strangers, which is the root of all charity, should be obligatory on all householders. It would be hospitality no longer; but like the billeting of soldiers on the people of a region under military occupation. XLII. If any one thinks it easy or practicable for the State to fill the part of almoner, in dispensing the charities and benevolences of private persons — (all charities must draw their supplies from private sources, for the State neither earns nor produces) — let him study the history of the " English Poor Laws " for the last three centuries, and learn the result of that vast body of fluctuating and ex- perimental legislation. For England has dealt more largely and systematically with this matter, the relief of pauperism, than any other country. 127 The result of this State chanty is a long and painful tissue of failures, most plainly visible toward the end of the last century and the beginning of this. The system had been most successful on the very point not aimed at, the breeding of paupers. For it had turned the poor laws into a mode of paying wages ; and of beating down wages to the lowest point that could sustain life. Most farm laborers received much of their wages from the poor rates, being hired out to the farmers by the poor-law commissioners. Pauper labor had dis- placed that of independent workmen. The independ- ence, integrity, industry, and domestic virtues of the laboring classes, in some places, were nearly extinct. In some parishes the poor rates, assessed on property, ex- ceeded the whole annual rental, and no tenant would hold it, even rent free. Proprietors saved money by throwing their lields out of cultivation, thus escaping the payment of the poor rates. In 1820, when England had but half its present popu- lation, and not one-fourth of its present wealth, the poor rates had risen to £7,300,000. The poor were paid for their necessities, not for their industry, and were tempted to increase tlie former, and neglect the latter. The pauper laborer received more relief if he took a pauper wife — and still more for every pauper child. Paupers married at seventeen or eighteen, and claimed the allow- ance the day after marriage. The poor laws thus gave a most unnatural and ruinous stimulant to a population, which already could not find work or wages. Relief from the poor rates was, practically, a bounty on indo- lence ahd vice, most injurious to the independent laborer, tending to bring him down to the pauper level. A laborer could hardly get work out of his own parish. )'i n t t"rS ! ^! i y i'!l 128 for fear he might gain a settlement in another, and become chargeable to it as a pauper. The courts of law were full of suits between parishes, as to their liability to relieve the vagrant pauper — ^who was tossed about like a shuttlecock from one parish to another, each seeking to relieve itself of the burden. The laboring poor, thus re- stricted of their natrral liberty of seeking afield for their industry, had almost returned to the state of villanage, like the serfs, the adscrijpti glehoB of the Middle Ages. The effect of this State charity was hardly less injuri- ous to the benevolent impulses of those who had the means of relieving suffering and want. Burdened already with heavy assessments for the maintenance of the poor, over which taxation they had no control, either as to its amount or its application, they wern naturally tempted to say to the needy and ailing, " The almshouse and the hospi- tal are there open to you ; I am compelled to pay highly to support them. Go there for relief!" The poor laws discouraged all private voluntary charity ; even made it an offense in many cases to ask for relief. They engen- dered feelings of hostility and animosity in tlie breasts of the paupers, against those wlio were compelled by law to maintain them. Should the reader wish to master fully the effects of the "English Poor Laws," we would recommend to him Maltlius's acute and thorough book on the " Principles of Population," a work much vilified by many who misun- derstood or misconstrued its wise lessons. In that part in which he treats specially of pauperism, Malthus has shown plainly — " 1. That although these laws may have alleviated in- dividual misfortune, yet they have spread the evil over a larger surface. 129 irisra, " 2. That no possible sacrifices of the ricli could, for any time, prevent the recurrence of distress among the lower classes. " 3. Tliat all systems of tliis kind tend to create more paupers. " 4. That the poor laws subject the whole class of the common people (laborers) to a set of tyraimical laws. " 6. Tiiat if these laws had never been enacted, the mass of happiness among the laboring class would liave been greater than it is." Tiie Hev. Dr. Tlios. Chalmers, the greatest light of the Kirk in this century, devoted much of his time and of his great powers, to investigating the question of pau2)erism. He was most anxious to save his own country, Scotland, from the curse and the blight of the English mode of dealing with it. In his essay on " Scotch and English Pauperism," he says — " We will confess that we have long thouglit that, in the zaal of regidating against the nuisance of public begging, some of tlie clearest principles, ])oth of Nature and of Christianity, have been violated." — "As dis- ciples of the New Testament, we cannot but think that, if told by our Saviour to give to him that asketh — tliere must be something radically wrong in an attempt, on our part, to extinguish that very condition, on which he hath made the duty of giving to dejDend." Again he says — " We can venture to affirm, and to the infinite lienor of the lower orders of society, that all which the rich gwe to the poor in private henevolence, is hut a unite and a trifle when compared with what the poor give to one another P In his esbay on the " Extension of the Church and the Extinction of Pauperism," he says — "The right manage- ment of poverty {pauperism) is truly the darkest and \ t. 1 \t V 1 •J S; I m it — I'M >! : I ! i I 130 most unsolvable of all problems." — *' No power of in- qiiifiition can protect a public cbarity from unfair de- mands upon it ; and demands, too, of such weipjlit and plausibility as must be acceded to, and bave tlie effect of wasting a large and ever-increasing proportion of tlie fund, on those wlio are not tlie rightful and legitimate objects of it." After urging his plans for elevating the tone and character of the people by moral and religious training, he says — " Should this fail, we must prepare our minds for a conclusion, far more treniendous than the continuance of pauperism, with all its corruptions and miseries." — "Should it be found that it owes all its inveteracy to a great moral impotency onthe part of man- kind, from which no expedient, within the whole compass of natural or revealed knowledge, is able to deliver them !" Perhaps the worst effect of the relief of pauperism by the State is, tliat it tends strongly to make pauperism hereditary. The children and the grandchildren of paupers grow up with sentiments, and under impressions, which prevent any persistent effort to raise themselves above the condition of a pauper race. Like long-impris- oned captives, they are depressed " Till bondage sinks their souls to their condition !" Poor laws are not exactly the invention of modern times, or even of the Middle Ages. The Athenians had their poor laws, in perhaps the worst possible form. The paupers not only had a voice in appointing the amount of relief, but it was partly drawn from the treasury of the allies of xithens, of which Athens was the keeper. Relief was so distributed as to offer workmen the strongest in- ducement to neglect their private business, in order to atteud the public assemblies, and their monstrous courts, a" IHl witli five or six huiulrud citizens, as jurors, where every man was paid. Tlie Roman poor laws took another form, perhaps quite as objectionable — and, it may be, more costly to the tribu- tary ])rovin(!es. By the Legen FrHnientaria^ for centuries corn was issued gratis to the poor citizens. This bred up a crowd of paupers with political influence in the State. For tlie ^reat body of the real laboritig class, the slaves, derived no relief from these poor laws, either at Athens or Rome. In the time of Augustus Cffisar, two hundred tiiousand citizens were fed as paupers, in the city of Rome. In the time of the Byzantine empire, the mass of the people of Constantinople recognized as the chief duty of the State, the providing the mob with bread and public diversions. Panem et Circences. In the Middle Ages, when the Church of Rome was at the height of its prosperity — it assiduously and politicly practised, as among its chief duties, the feeding of the the poor, and hospitality to the rich. For tliese afford- ed the best plea and the greatest facilities for its grasp- ing acquisition of land, and of all kinds of wealt)i. The French Government, in the last century, and this, has often imitated that of Rome. When the mob of Paris grew clamorous at the high price of bread, the au- thorities, at times, compelled the bakers to sell bread below cost, reimbursing them for their losses, at the cost of the rest of France. They did not fear the mobs of the smaller cities, or of the country at large. Half loaves must do for them. Hospitals and pensions, furnished by the State, for soldiers and seamen, are not charities. They are in part payment of debt, for service done. I 132 XLIII. We have already dwelt somewhat on the provision Nature has made for the spontaneous diffusion of knowl- edge and the arts throughout society. It is obvious that it is just as natural and obligatory on parents to teach and train their children ; as to feed, clothe, and slielter them. Religious people (and as they form no small part of most communities, and have rights and duties, like ourselves, we are bound to consider them, however completely we may be witliout God in the world) — all these will agree that the education and train- ing of their children are duties imposed upon tliem by their Creator, and lights given exclusively to them. And we know that this conviction has, practically, operated so actively on parents, even those who make little profes- sion of devotion, and even in semi-barbarous regions; that parents either taught their children their own arts, or, perhaps, more often induced some other persons to undertake their instruction in theirs. From this custom sprung up tlie universally known sj^stem of apprentice-, ship, from the French verb, ajyprendre, to learn or teach. This system of apprenticeship to numberless trades and profcr- ■ ions was really suggested by Natare ; and has, from the remotest times, done more for the education of mankind, and for the formation of character, than any other system of teaching can possibly do. For most parents, having freedom of choice, as to whom they will intrust with the teaching and training of their children, exerc3ise this right and duty with no little anxiety and caution. 133 Apprenticesliip is by no means limited to handicraft trades. It lias been found that most of the highest brancbes of professional knowledge and skill are best acquired in apprenticeship. The: ? does not appear to be any limit to its application. Lord Chancellors have begun their careers at the law, as copyists to meml)er8 of the legal profession. Men of the highest scientific attainments, as Agassiz, often find it convenient to have one or more handy and intelligent youths about them, while making their collections, experiments, and re- searches. It is now the better opinion that the most learned and scientific professions and pursuits, as law, medicine, civil engineering, chemistry, natural history, etc., are Vest taught to apprentices. From tlie first dawn of letters and science, a class of men have appeared among every intellectual people, eager for the acquisition of knowledge, and, many of them, not less eager to communicate their knowledge to others. These have been the successful teachers of man- kind. An utterly unrestricted method of teaching, varying with the character, views, and objects of those who undertook to teach ; from that of the pedagogue, who would never let his pupil look off of his book, to observe anytliing beyond its pages, to that of Pestalozzi, who sought to make his pupils familiar with things in the concrete, by object lessons, leaving abstract ideas to come later (a theory long before advocated by Milton) ; or that of the tutor, who took his pupils to travel, to show them the busy and various world, and master living tongues — all these have their merits ; and they afford opportunities of comparing and contrasting the results of different systems. And doubtlcos the best systems now i" u. ! i l«i I'll __ 134 in vogue are the result of this perfect freedom in the pro- fession of teaching. Out of these contrarieties may be eUcited the best modes of instruction. 'No one method is the best. Much depends on the character and idiosyn- crasy of the pupil to be taught. Nature has given the right, and imposed the duty, on parents and guardians ; and the responsibility of choosing the method of educa- tion lies with them alone. It is admitted that the people of Attica were the most intellectual branch of the most intellectual race of antiquity, the Greeks. Who was it that, discarding mere speculative inquiries into Nature's mysteries, first effect- ually taught the Athenians to look into their own minds, and search there for reasonable convictions as to human character and principles of conduct, in private and public affairs of daily occurrence ? Who taught men their real ignorance in matters which they thought they under- stood, by leading them to define correctly that which they aimed at ; and furnished them with a logical method of making a sure and real intellectual progress? It was Socrates ! His method of instruction was apparently the most immethodical ; consisting of question and answer in ordinary casual conversation. But, in reality, it was perfect for its purpose ; to teach men their own ignorance and want of logic. Without any motive of personal ambition, or of gain — for he did not seek office, and refused all fees from his pupils — he devoted a long life, most industriously, but unostentatiously, to opening the minds of the young Athenians of all classes, to the true paths of intellectual and moral progress. When he was about seventy years old, the corrupt Athenian democracy, on the false plea that he brought 135 the religion of the State into discredit, and perverted the youth of Athens by his teaching, put him to death, con- demning him to take poison ; which lie swallowed with as much philosophic composure as he had lived. It is irn.possible to say how much Plato, Xenophon, and the many others of Socrates's world-renowned pupils, in- cluding Aristotle in the next generation, owed to his training in the art of using their minds. And these were the great teachers of future ages, and of other countries, far beyond Greece, in her best days. From the time of Socrates to this day, so many men of more than ordinary abilities and attainments have zeal- ously given their lives, in many cases, from purely disin- terested motives, to the instruction of the ignorant, that it would be impossible to name them, or even to estimate their number. There has been no civilized country, in either ancient or modern times, but especially since the beginning of the Christian era, which could not furnish a long list of these independent and voluntary teachers ; who have spent their lives battling against ignorance, yet often frowned upon, and persecuted by the government and the people of their own time and country. Nearly all we know we owe to these men. The very variety of their mental traits, and of their views, secured great free- dom of inquiry into men's possible attainments, and full opportunities of comparing the various modes of teach- ing, auB of developing tlie mental powers in the pursuit of every branch of knowledge and skill. The persons, who have sliown the most sclf-sucrificing zeal in organizing and maintaining the means of educa- tion, have almost always been among the most devout and pious in the community. They devoted their learning, '. I, / 136 their labor, and their money, to promote the instruction of the young and the ignorant. These are the people who founded schools and colleges. But all governments have naturally a violent tendency to usurp control over matters foreign to their jurisdic- tion. Great powers are, indeed, needed to enable the State to protect effectually the rights of individuals. But these powers, having no personality, cannot exercise themselves; but must be exercised by individual men. There at once springs up a keen and fierce struggle be- tween individuals, to act for the State, and exercise some of its functions. The chief labor of those who get into office, is to keep themselves in place. And they look around, in every direction, to. win supporters, and swell their patronage and power. The more varied the duties assumed by the government, the larger the revenue to be expended, the more support can those in office purchase, to sustain them there. When they see the copious streams of benevolent char- ity flowing from thousands of private fountains ; they rec- ognize them as a great power, which, in the hands of the State, could be applied to manifold uses — and influences, for political purposes — and they at once set to work to guide these streams into channels of their own choosing. From their training : orgies of their bloodiest of revolutions, they publicly deified the goddess of liberty, making her second only to St. Guillotine. Their system of State education, as now organized, is zealously sustaining their freedom from su- perstition by denouncing Christian it}', and by persecut- ing the remnant of the Church yet lin«jjering there. England, entering later than Prussia, on the usurpation by the State of tlie control of education, has, through some surviving counter-influences, not yet got so far in remoulding the minds and hearts of those she would instruct. Accidentally, the clergy of the Church of England, and those of the Scotch Kirk, have been able to retain much influence over education, even in the State schools. But this is only tolerated as yet. Both literature and science are there making great progress in unbelief and agnosticism, and the full effect is yet to be seen. In the United States the strong tendency is to enforce education by the Government with a careful exclusion of religious instruction. It is held there that, as universal manhood suffrage is the sole basis of government, every voter should be educated at the cost of the State. But in fact, at least in law, the Federal Government has no rights or duties as to State education ; for that, if it rests anywhere, lies with the individual States. If education, which is very general in the United States, has had any effect on C7*ime, it has been simply to increase it. The criminals are far better educated than they used to be, and crime is more rife than it formerly was. In Canada, the Government has entered fully on the assumed duty of State education. We already see some of the effects : an increasing desire to make attendance ■II 144 on the public schools compulsory, indicating a hostility to private teaching, and the wish and aim to abolish private ecliools. The pretense of teaching the elements of all the sciences in tlie State schools, where children ac(piire the names of abstruse branches of learning and science, from teachers, themselves not well -grounded in the rudiments. Children elaborately drilled in new-fa 1 systems of griimmar by masters, and yet more by mis- tresses, of no general reading beyond the daily paper, and unable to speak pure English. An immense stress laid on arithmetic, so that the multiplication table takes the place occupied, among Christians, by the Apostles' Creed. After a year's training at these schools, a marked deteri- oration can be seen in the manners and morals of children who have been well brought up elsewhere. The political patronage this system of public schools affords is of important use, and perhaps its chief recommendatir to politicians. It so happened that, when a very young man, I was, for a time, thrown much with a physician, a man of much ability, and of considerable attainments in physical science. He had practised for several years in one place, got dissatisfied there, and was seeking another field in which to follow his profession. I knew little of his his- tory, nor why he left his former place of residence. I was much struck with his extensive knowledge on many points, all bearing on physical science. His mind was acute, vigorous, and well stored, and T probably learned not a few things in physics from him. But I was yet more deeply impressed, on finding tliat to all moral inquiries, to all spiritual impressions that acute mind was callous, and had remained blank. He seemed to have but one accidental moral qu-'^lty — frankness. It 145 was as if one lobe of bis brain, devoted exclusively to pliysical i'cHean;li and material impressions, liad been de- vel()j)ed to fnll bealtli and vi<^or ; wbile tbe otber lobe, which should have been emj)loyed on moral inquiries and spiritual experiences, had been purposely ke])t idle, and had become shriveled and perished. Tliese impressions have stuck to me, and further opportunities of similar observations have convinced me that tbe assiduous exclu- sive ])ursuit of physical research, gradually withers the moral and spiritual side of a man's nature. I never knew but one man who, entering very early on the pursuit of the physical sciences, and long following up his researches with enthusiasm, actually passed through physics into metaphysics, and so to moral in- quiries ; yet he did not abjindon physics. I recognized him to be, through some u" known influence, an excep- tion to the result of the exclusive study of physical science. Now to apply this. The army of schoolmasters in the pay of the State find it easier to exhibit a marked and measured progress with their scholars, in the exact and materialistic studies, than in those which bear on moral, and, possibly, on spiritual matters. As the employment and promotion of these teachers depends on the exhibit they can make of proficiency in their pupils, they lay the greatest stress on the iirst class of studies, which admit more readily of being measured, and they undervalue and neglect the other class. Have you ever remarked the keen zest with which students of medicine, and especially of anatomy, pursue their studies, and compared them, in that respect, with students of language, law, or divinity ? Physical science has a sort of fascination for man. He is more prone i- 146 i ! to the physical and animal side than to the moral and spiritual side of his nature. Many people, all pious per- sons, who are aware of this tendency, are anxious to counteract it. The claim of the State to control education necessarily becomes an ever-growing exaction on the community. It weakens parental responsibility, loosens filial ties, fosters tlie presumption of youth, and unfits a large j^ortion for their future occupations. It generates two classes of people who are always urging it on to extrava- gance. 1st. A vast array of State teachers, who, to exalt tlieir own importance as State officials, urge the extension of the course of instruction. I have known it made to embrace music, French, and German. 2d. A numerous class of parents, who would have their children obtain as complete an education as possible, provided it is not at their own cost. They w^ould gladly include foreign travel on those terms. This claim of the State is a grow- ing inciihus on society. I cannot conceive what right the State has to take my earnings to educate even my own children — much less my neighbor's children — still less the children of a man I never saw, or heard of. It has as much right to take my earnings to feed, clothe, and house them ; or to re- quire me to take tliem into my house, and bring them up with my own, and as my own. State education neces- sarily causes a vast amount of misapplied effort and cost for education. For the State has not, like the pai'ent, and the private teacher, the means of judging what sort of education the pupil is qualified to receive, and liow far it should be carried ; what it should include, and what exclude. The State steps in to relieve the parent of a sacred 147 my less duty; to do his thinking for him, and to spend his money for him, in teaching his children, and other people's children, at his cost. There shall be no more ignorance ! the State will give to the young a scientific education witliout any taint of Middle Age superstition. We are grieved to see what is the class of men into whose hands the guidance of the education of youth in the State schools is falling. There are now plenty of men of Bcience quite ready, on a good salary, to pervert other men's foundations, and inculcate Comtism, Tyndall- ism, Huxleyism, Haeckelism. To my mind, it is impossible to exhibit a more glaring example of folly and presumption than that of men of learning and science taking their stand in the midst of the universe; gazing inquiringly into its wonders, which they do not fully see ; making prying research into its mysteries, which they cannot unravel ; sounding the depths of Nature, which they cannot fathom ; and then proclaiming that the human intellect is the highest order of intelligence that manifests itself to us. The astron- omer vainly striving to map out and measure the extent of creation, and at the same time atlieistically denying the proofs of design, and of a designer; and the ex- istence of final causes, and of the causa causarum^ the author of them ; would be the most ridiculous of objects, if, with his teaching and example, demoralizing his race, he were not the most deplorable object in Nature. It is likely that if modern States had usurped the con- trol of education two, three, or four cefituries ago, the world would be now far more ignorant than it is. We infer this partly from the fact that for some centuries, in the Middle Ages, the Church of Kome had almost a monopoly of education throughout western Europe, and M <'i| r\% 148 <\\i 'il 11 in did not use it to advance tlie intellectual development of society. At a later day the Jesuits, a body of eminently able and learned men, acquired an almost equal control there over education, and, witli eminent ability to teach, grossly perverted the end of their teaching. There are many indications that the ancient Egyptians received a national education from the priesthood, and the Chinese tlirough their philosophers and the Buddhist priests. And in both cases this semi-State education seems to have stereotyped the national intellect, rendering it incapable of progress, only of copying and repeating the works and the thoughts of their forefathers. It is utterly impossible to foresee what may be the ultimate result of the contrpl of education in the hands of any governmeut. Nature, assuredly, did not place it there. One branch of education the State must take charge of — military education. But that it should merely superimpose on the liberal education pnvate teaching has settled on. XLY. We have dwelt long on the usurpation by the State of the control over charities and education ; not because they are the only, but the chief usurpations, and those which as yet they have pushed farthest. We will speak of some other usurpations of the State. For instance, men have an exclusive right to make their own contracts. In the best-ordered connnunity, individuals will have disputes with each other as to their rights. The State, in the fulfillment of one of its two great duties, the admin- 149 IState. their istration of justice, alone can decide the questions between them. It must enact rules and establish courts for examining into and decidinc: these controversies between the parties, many of them springing out of matters of contract. The State is often called upon to define rights in its legislation and to adjudge them in its courts. But this is quite a different thing from creating rights, or granting them, or taking them away. The State has not a sliadow of claim to alter contracts made between individuals ; on the contrary it is one of its most important duties to enforce their fulfillment, unless it can be shown that they are immoral, illegal, or fraudulent. And then the State is bound to place the parties as nearly as practicable in the same condition they were in as to each other before the contract was made. In cases which turn on title or right by long possession, or claims after the lapse of long time, as under the statute of limitations, or under the statute of frauds ; the State merely refuses to interfere and investigate a claim after the claimant has so long slept upon his rights, or neglected the proofs of his claim. Yet many States have often violated this right of men to make their own contracts, as the British Government has, we think, of late repeatedly done most grossly, and on a large scale, merely on grounds of temporary politic-al expediency. So in the United States several temporanj Bankrupt Acts have been enacted, under the influence and pressure of tlie heavily indebted classes, who sought to be relieved of their contract obligations, and set free to embark on new financial speculations. This was making very free with contracts. 8 Mp ! 150 Another State usurpation has taken a peculiar shape. The riglit which a man has to the protection of the State does not deprive him of the right to protect himself. He has not surrendered the one to receive the other. For instance, a traveller, if told on his journey that tlv3 road ahead is beset by a highwayman, is in no way bound to change his route or apply for police protection. He has a right to take his chance in protecting himself. So if a man be told that a burglary a\ ill be attempted on his house, he has a right to hold his tongue and defend his house as his castle. In both these cases he is serving the public. He is making crime dangerous to the crim- inal witliout the unreliable aid of a jury. Legislation against self-defense tends strongly to emasculate a people. Fools must have made up the bulk of tlie parliamentary body which enacted laws making it a penal offense to wear secret weapons. The proof of tlieir folly is this : the law only disarms the law-abiding, leaving them un- armed before the law-defying. At the most, the carrying of concealed weapons may be under some circumstances an indication of criminal designs. Another usurpation wliicli many States have been, and still are guilty of, is the prohibiting people from leaving the country. This is surely a gross infringement on natural liberty. For a free man has a riglit to go where he pleases, provided he is not leaving at home unfulfilled obligations ; or in time of war going into the enemy's country. For this is v. sort of desertion to the enemy. No State has a right to grant monopolies, for they are oppressive outrages on men's natural rights. Yet most States have granted them to individuals and companies, or have themselves usurped and exercised them. Of late the latter are most frequent, and may be made the 161 most oppressive. But what is a monopoly ? It assumes a variety of shapes. The exclusive right to import into the country a particular class of goods, or to manufacture, or to deal in them, is a monopoly. So the exclusive right to do particular acts, or to render certain services not necessarily done by State agents. Thus we believe that in some States in Europe the impoi-tation and trade in tobacco is a government monopoly. And in British India the trade in opium seems to be a monopoly of the Government. But if a person contrives some new machine or tech- nical process of doing some useful work, or if an author compose a book, the patent granted to the former and the copyright granted to the latter are not monopolies. They are simply certificates from the State that the article or process patented and the book copyrighted, are the fruits of the labor and ingenuity of particular persons. And men have by nature an exclusive right in their own labor and ingenuity, and in the fruits of them, if they choose to reserve them for their own use and profit. The State should protect this right as all others. Any other man is at liberty to invent a better machine or process for doing the same work done by the patented machine or process, or to compose a better book than tlie one copyrighted, on the same subject, and thus possibly deprive them of their value on sale. The only restriction laid on the later inventor or author is, he must not avail himself of the invention or composition of his ])rede- cessor. He must not build on another man's founda- tions. So the State may justly exact from members of such professions as expect to live by their practice among the community, some security that they are what they pro- 162 fess to be. Thus, the legal profession are in some degree officers of the courts in which they practise; and are not admitted to practise tliere until they have certificates from some appointed schools of law, that they have gone through a certain course of studies, and stood a satisfac- tory examination in them. So with those who seek to practise medicine. The State exacts from them proofs that they have qualified themselves for this profession, as certified by the diploma of some authorized school of medicine. And so with all professions which require a training in high and difiicult branches of science and art — as apothecaries, chemists, surveyors, and engineers. For many persons on the lookout for the means of living, are quite ready to assume any of these professions with little or no qualification for them, trusting for success to their plausible pretensions, and the gullibility of che bulk of tlie community. The State is bound to take these pre- cautions, and exact proofs of competency in professional men, who seek to live by the practice of callings wliich imply elaborate and somewhat occult jn-eparation for their mastery. This is necessary for the protection of the ignorant and the incautious ; and is not granting a monopoly, for it grants no exclusive right, not lin)iting the number of professional men. It may seem strange to some people, who have all their lives found an institution of the State, a very great con- venience to them ; and learned to look upon it as a neces- sary of civilized life, to hear me call it amonopoly, and a State monopoly — I mean the post-office. Yet when we trace its origin and history, we fi^id that it has become a monopoly ; and more than that, the fruitful mother of monopolies — at least, its extreme convenience has sug- gested, and is suggesting to States, others of a most dan- gerous and usurping character. 163 ig a of In very early times States with wide territories soon found that tlicy needed an establishment of couriers, posted at many points, for the speedy conveyance of orders from, and intelligence to, the seat of government. The earliest system of post we know of was that in the Persian Empire. The TtineTarmm Antoniiii implies a similar provision in the Roman Empire. All extensive States doubtless followed these examples^. Mercliants and others soon found out that it would be more than convenient for their correspondence to be car- ried by the State's courier ; and court favor or bribery got their letters so conveyed. The State, too, found out that this carriage of private correspondence might be made a source of revenue. The post-office gradually became a depart- ment of the government, and to mal'" it more profitable, private persons were prohibited, under heavy penalties, making a business of conveying any correspondence. That service was made a monopoly of the State. Doubt- less, besides the revenue, the power of examining polit- ical correspondence was a motive. We have known this done. In England the post-office was long a source of great revenue, and still is, although latterly the policy has been to cheapen postage for the convenience of the people. In the United States, on the other hand, the post-office never became a source of revenue, but until very lately was a burden, costing the country seven or eight millions annually. Still the postage was cheapened, that the Gov- ernment might boast of performing the great duty of carry ing to every man his letters, and yet more his newspaj)ers, clieaply, to keep him educated and informed on public affairs, at the least possible cost. Yet it held on to its monopoly, laying heavy penalties on any who interfered \ \ I 154 >* with it. Now this monopoly is evidently an artificial system, preventing matters taking their natural course; compelling some people to pay the greater part of other's postage in the shape of millions raised to pay the deficiencies and losses of the post-oflice. If the conveyance of letters were free to common carriers, sucli as the express companies, the cost of postage in cities and towns would be yet lower than it is. People who live in out-of-the-way places would have to pay more for their correspondence, as they should. If the post-ofiice had not been one of the especial prerogatives (monopolies) of the United States, the people would have saved millions annually, and besides have escaped the robberies of the Star Route contractors. ]3ut the Grovernment holds on to this monopoly, at any cost, for it gives it tiie control and patronage of 00,000 office-holders. It seeks, and is urged to seize on other monopolies, as to become the sole connnon carrier and intelligencer, by monopoliz- ing the railroads and telegraph lines. Doing these parts of the people's business for them will give the Govern- ment the patronage of another army of office-holders. For the great convenience and apparent success of this post-office monopoly has set some wild ideas afloat through the country. It is furnishing stepping-stones for wild projects of Government monopoly. If it can so well convey every man's correspondence for him, why should it not perform many other services for the people. There are men in the country widely listened to, by mul- titudes who have votes, if they have nothing else, urging that tlie Government should appropriate the railroads, telograjdi lines, the education of all children, the regula- tion of lal)or and wages, the abolition of patents and copy- right, the acquisition and the ownership of j^coal mines, 155 iron, gold, and silver mines, and petroleum wells — in order to attend better to the people's welfare. To crown all, the Government is strongly urged to make itself the sole landholder in the confederation ; or at least to confis- cate all net rent, for the ec^ual benefit of all the people. The smaller monopolies of former days dwindle into nothingness before these splendid examples of State usurpation about to be carried into operation. XLYI. tones •gmg tn !opy- ines. , The searching ingenuity of these reformers has sug- gested another line of usurpation to the United States Government. A State lias a right to enact sanitary laws, and to abate nuisances. This is a part of the administration of jus- tice. The creating of nuisances and neglect of sanitaty precautions are wrongs to other people. In wliat way does tlie need of sanitary laws arise ? Di- rectly out of the habits and pursuits of human society. Animals in a state of nature, undisturbed by men, are healthy, cleanlv, and content, under the guidance of their instincts. Men, under the guidance of their reason, are discontented with their state, constantly striving to better their condition, and often altering it for the worse. They become filthy in their habits and surroundings, sickly from privations and exposure to causes generating dis- ease, and become sources of contagion in their persons, and yet more in their homes, to their neighbors ; especially where trade and manufactures draw many together, and accumulate perishable materials at one point. The offensive refuse collected in and around the winter 156 n il i' I ¥:. huts of the Esquimaux, the leavings of a long winter of uncleanly living, does not exceed that wliich would gather in and about many places wliere population is crowded together by traffic and in^lustry. What would be the condition of tlie tratnp-houses, in large European cities, or of the tenements in those American ports, where hundreds of emigrants, whole colonies of Irish and other foreigners, are crowded together— hundreds under one roof, two or more families at times in one room — but for the enforcement of sanitary regulations as to ventilation, drainage, removal of filth, and of the remnants of un- wholesome trades ? But the sanitary regulations should be limited to neces- sary sanitary objects. Tiiey may be, and are easily per- verted to intrusive, intermeddling, oppressive ends ; and become nuisances themselves, doing far more harm than good, violating far higher laws. Many examples might b *given of this. I will content myself with one, which I know will meet with opposition. No doubt vaccination is a safeguard against small-pox. A State may well make it the prerequisite to entering its service in any capacity, and thus familiarize people with it as a wise precaution. But it is an infringement on natural liberty to compel anybody to submit to vaccination. Some of the new reformers in the United States have taken sanitary laws under their special patronage. One of them in his advice to the Government, not unsolicited, says : " The present system under which Boards of Health act is not effectual, as is seen by the state of the public health in all great cities." "I recommend the establish- ment by Congress of efficient Boards of Health — under a comprehensive system and policy." This is coolly proposing to Congress to abolish the 167 :he Boards of Health established hy the States, and tlie mu- nicipalities of cities, as ineffective ; and to substitute for them, by the authority of the Federal (lovernment, a national Board — with more arms than Briareua, one reacliing to every populous or sickly locality in the con- federacy, to take sanitary matter? under its control there. Such a usurpation and concentration of power would be a greater evil than a visit from the plague or the chol- era. What an intermeddling and costlv nuisance would this prying, domineering agency become to the ])rivacy of every home ! How incompatible with freedom ! How utterly foreign to what the United States Government and the State governments profess to be I All these reformers utterly forget that the United States profess to be a confederation of States ; or rather, they aim at destroying more completely than has yet been done, the Federal character of the United States Govern- ment ; and convert the States, the creators of the confed- eration, into the provinces of a sovereign concentrated power. We liave had occasion to speak of the theory of "emi- nent domain." Have they forgotten that, even under that theory, "eminent domain" does not vest in the United States— unless in the Southern States which were conquered in the War of Secession ? Even there, in all cases of escheats, the escheated land goes to the State. The United States Government cannot grant a charter for a railroad from Buffalo to New York City, or from Pittsburg to Philadelphia, or from Springfield to Boston — for Massachusetts, New York, and Pennsylvania claim to be States, and that "eminent domain " lies in them. They hold that the United States Government is only a Federal Government for. certain purposes specified in the 8* ■t it 158 Constitution. But these reformers would sweep away what remnants of this (.\)nstitiition are yet left. It never was anythinf!^ more than a treaty hetween States ; and now it is but a broken treaty ; and tliey would have it utterly forgotten. XLYll. In these latter times tliere has been a great crop of these dreamy, visionary, j)()litical theorists ; utterly dissat- isfied witli the social and political institutions of their time and country ; indeed, burning with zeal to reform and revolutionize tlie world. Witliout going mto farther details of their conflicting views and teachings, we cannot help commenting on one point in which they all resemble each other : the indica- tions of an astounding ignorance of human nature. They all look forward to radical changes in the traits of mankind —a perfectil)ility, the result of a gradual or sudden development, by education or training, to larger and higlier views, the effect of their enlightening in- structions. Humanity, according to them, is made of wax or plastic clay, to be moulded into new forms. And each of these dreamers hopes to be the creative artist who will furnish the mould to turn out the desired model. Or, ratlier, each of them imagines himself a great alchvmist, whose wondrous art can convert the animal man into what he never yet has been, nor was mean be. Do not these peo])le know that the onl sv*' men have ever made to perfection, has been tiie p fection of rascality ? Althougli little of a scholar, and less of a linguioi, 1 know enough of the history of the languages and litem- 169 tiires of several of the most intellectual races of men, to ^atlier from them facts that seem to mo to cut off all liope of a great intellectual improvement of onr race at any future time, by that education and high training, to the accomplishment of wiiich the most radical of our revolutionary reformers would devote ihe confiscated rental of all the land in the United States. If you take in chronological order the literature and language of the Greeks, the Romans, the Italians, the English, the French, and the Germans, you will lind that each of these literatures, tongues, and peoples, had a period of genius, of invention, and of originality, during which the language and race are rising to their highest point of development. This is followed by a period of criticism and scholarship, in which the race strive to rival their predecessors, but never rise to their level. This is followed usually by a long period of mediocrity. There "may be a re7iai88(inee^ but that regeneration always betrays a degeneration. LiteratUiC may be,, and is, more widely cultivated ; but the three stages of the national mind — originality and invention, criticism and imitative scholarship, and mediocrity and decline — never reverse their order. There seems to be no necessary connection ~ between t\\\^ fonnula of intellectual rise, progress, and decline, and that of the mechanical and useful arts of practical life and business. Kor does the use of steam, electricity, the telescope, the microscope, the solar spectrum, however much they may add t(t our knowledge and powers, produce any enlargement of the faculties of our minds, or make men ^cisei^ than they were. A remarkable example of this, as to language, is shown in the late effort of a bodv of learned men to amend the English version of the Scriptures of 1611. They, in :? i 160 ' many parts, violated the idioms and ruined the melody and pathos of the older version. This was owing to that version having been made by great masters of the English tongue when it had attained its perfection — when Shakes- peare was writing his last plays, and Lord Bacon his short but inimitable " Essays, Moral, ICconomical, and Political." For then the language had attained its great- est power of expressing the thoughts, sentiments, pas- sions, and characteristics of men in a perfection it has never rivaled since. We may learn from this experi- ment that the purity and force of our tongue has been Inirgely preserved to us through nearly three centuries of eventful changes, by this very old veivion they sought to amend. They may have rid the Scriptures of one or two interpolations, as that in 1st J ohn, chapter 5, v. 7 ; but they have made many other doubtful, if not false, cor- rections. From these observations on the rise, progress, and decline, in the languages and the literature embodied in them, I infer that even for tlie most intellectual races of men there is a limit fixed by Nature, above which they cannot rise. Thus the literature in the United States is but a branch from that of England, transplanted in the period of mediocrity. Who wildly expects it to produce a Shakespeare or Milton ? It would l)e wonderful if it ever became to that of England what the literature of Alexandrif!, was to that of Greece. Any observant man lias opportunities of learning much of human nature, by merely closely watcliing the traits and conduct of the crowd of his fellow creatures around him. lie may, too, if he be a reader, compare those he knows personally with what men have been in past times. For the history of man's nature, as shown by his 1(')1 tlioughts, words, and actions, under a vast variety of conditions, is accessible to us for at least twenty-five hundred years. - We have good reason to believe that wise Socrates must have often been forced to converse with fools in Athens, the very counterpart, in their nature, of those we meet with now. And Aristides, the Just, must have met with knaves there, quite equal to any this enlightened age can put forward. We have not, from the broadest experience within our reach, a shadow of a reason to be- lieve that human nature, in its intellect, passions, motives, and innate characteristics, has changed within recorded time. Men have learned some things formerly unknown. In particular countries manners and habits have under- gone great changes. Many men, of certain races, have learned many things. But the haman race is the same it was in ))rimitive times. Tlie unjust are unjust still ; the filthy are filthy still ; the righteous are righteous still. Some of these revolutionizing reformers are learned men, and, in a certain sense, men of ability, especially to make tlie worse appear the -better cause. But at the bottom they have no more wisdom than " Jack Cade, the clotliier, who ineans to dress tlie commonwealth, turn it, and put a new nap on it." " There shall be, in England, seven half-penny loaves sold for a penny ; the three-hooi)ed pot shall have seven hoops, and I will make it felony to drink small beer. All the realm shall be in common !" Jack (^ade, although less learned than these modern re- formers, fairly represents them all. There are many reasons why these extravagances and absurdities should not surprise us. They are not new, but only more 162 ^ prevalent t)uiii in former times. That is tlie alarming fact. XLVIII. To PROVE liow apt even minds of the highest order are to go astray, when dealing with questions on sociology and politics, we will state that hoth Plato and Aristotle approved of infanticide, as a means of checking a surplus population, or of getting rid of deformed or feeble infants. Plato, if he meant his Republic for a treatise on practical politics, if I remember it correctly, shows an utter dis- regard for the marital and parental impulses which govern men in domestic life ; making his citizens mere imple- ments for political purposes ; pawns to be posted on the chess-board and moved according to the exigencies of the political game. So much for the wisdom of antiquity. Coming down to modern times, even to our own day, Grote, the banker, the leamed historian of Greece, and com- mentator on tlie works of Plato and Aristotle, so bewil- dered his mind with classical studies, the theories of ancient democracy, and with Grecian mythology, tliat he became convinced that all the virtues lie found so conspicuously wanting in the well-born peo|)le of his own time and country, lie had found in perfection and abundance among the oligarchical slaveholders of Greece and Rome. He could not perceive, and never suspected, that the barons who met at Runnvmede to wrest the Great Charter from King John, were stancher friends to human rights, better democrats, in fact, than his model patriots of the ancient republics. Groto was thoroughly classic in all his convictions. While he scorned all superstitious rever- ence for Jehovah or for Christ, he was so crazed with ii 163 classic mythology, that, on his visit to Poestum, in Italy, his feelings of veneration were moved to deep religious awe, on viewing the crumbling memorials of the worship of Poseidon. {The Temple of Neptune yet standhg there.) Tiie gulhbility of men was never more strongly dis- played, than when, in the last century, Rousseau's elo- quent sentimentalities and bold speculations on politics and sociolouy, excited the most intense interest and admiration in tlie reading world of his day. Yet his great work, Dti (Jontrat Socid/, is false in conception, and could only serve to unsettle and revolutionize society, keeping it in ceaseless ferment and tumult. And while he was writing his eloquent and nnicli lauded essay, Eniile^ on de F Efhicatlon (a subject he knew nothing about), he was sending his bastards, as soon as they were born, to the foundling hospital. J. Stewart Mill, whose works and teachings have ex- ercised wide and powerful influence over the convictions of his numberless readers, and beyond them, on others, in this generation, teaches the absurd est-ho7£s. 6. There is one important matter, in dealing with which, the British Parliament have betrayed egregious in- capacity. More than forty years ago the principles in- volved were pretty fully established, in the great contro- versy, the political battle on the "Corn Laws." It was then settled in Great Britain that it is a natural and es- sential part of a man's liberty and rights, to seek, for the Ili 1 ( 166 proceeds of liis industry, and the supply of liis needs, the best market the world affords. Parliament at once proceeded to give to all British sub- jects in Great Britain, as far as possible, the benefit of this great natural right. It seems never to have stinick tlieni, tliat, if it was a right, British subjects in the colo- nies had an equal claim to it as those at home. If there had been one statesman among this crowd of politicians, he would have pointed out, and convinced them that this principle furnished the key to the true colonial policy of the Empire. Tiie Government had only to liold one convenient port in eacli colony, declare it a free port, and thus secure to every British subject in that colony his gi'eat natural right of free trade, with every part of the Empire at least ; and thus prevent the rise and progress of the fallacies of that " protective system " — which is but an adroit mode of robbing others for your own benefit. It is, perhaps, not yet too late to enter on this colonial policy of justice to all. The colonies, to raise a revenue, besides honest direct taxation, might lay wliat duties tliey pleased on foreign goods. But every producticm of any part of the Emi:)ire, should be free of duty, with this one exception — any ex- cisable articles, as spirits and other liquors, sliould pay a duty equal to tlie excise imposed at the point of importa- tion. Tliis colonial policy would make it an Empire which need ask no commercial favors from the rest of the world. It would add to the resources needed for the support of tlie army and navy, maintained for the defense of the whole Empire. But the British Parliament were much in the predica- ment of Luther's drunken clown. In their old colonial policy they had attempted to tax unrepresented colonies, 167 and for that purpose made use, first of the " Stamp Act," then of a monopoly — the East India Comj^any's — of the tea trade. Failing in their attempt to tax these colonies, they now toi)pled over on tlie other side, and permitted the other colonies to tax the products of the mother country, as foreign goods, which tended to make the colonies little worth keeping; not worth defending at any great cost. We have spoken only of the blunders of the British Government, and, in our ignorance, have not exhausted tiie list. We will now refer to some, not peculiar to Great J^ritain. What greater inconsistency in politics and law can be pointed out, than that a State should enact and enforce severe penalties for trespass on property, for highway robbery, burglary, arson, and other assaults on [)roprietary rights ; and yet tolerate tiie 0])en teaching by demagogues and seditious journals, using every art to convince the populace, that the appropriation by individuals of part of the material gifts of Nature, is robbing tlie rest of mankind? That this appropriation has generated a con- dition of society, and a political organization, so unnat- ural and tyrannous, tliat it should be overthrown at all hazards, at any cost — even the wholesale slaughter of those who persist in upholding it ! Is not the denouncing of property iu land and other valuable possessions, a direct inciting of tlie multitude to robbery and bloodshed ? And this done by crazy politi- cal fanatics, who would not scruple at any outrage, if they had the mob at tlieir backs! ()])portunity and power only are wanting to prove them monsters of in- iquity, oidy to be rivaled by the her«)es who distinguished themselves by their atrocities during the " Keign of Ter- 168 ror" and during that of the " Comimine in Paris." How dare any State punish a man for highway robbery, even when attended with murder ; yet leave unpunished these inciters to and propagators of crime ; tliese tramj^lers on the legal rights, whicli tlie State was established to de- fend ? VVliy does it not strip them of all ])roperty, if they have any, and make pernianent provision for them in jail, penitentiary, or mad-house — where their ravings cannot unsettle the wholesome convictions of sober-minded men? Is there such a thing as the comity of nations ? When two States make treaties, and profess to be on friendly terms with each other, it is an outrage, not onl}^ against tlie law of nations, but against good morals and common decency, for one of them to shelter and defend, as citizens, fugitives from the other, who still claim to be citizens of one of the i)rovinces of that other State which they have left, while they make use of the protection of the country which shelters them, as a safe point from which they may wage war against the country they have quarrelled with. It is an unheard-of outrage for tlie sheltering State to allow and encourage, by connivance, these men in making open preparation for wholesale murder abroad, and openly experiment on the efficiency of the devilish contrivances they are preparing to accomplish their warlike projects, as they call them ; but, in truth, their plans for wholesale assassination. They avow that, in this enterprise, they have no scru- ples. Taking them at their word, we will state an under- taking in which many of them would gladly embark. Some very foolisli people, having more m(mey than brains, have entered on a project to make a tunnel under the channel between England and France. The only reason for making it, is, that some squeamish people, in 169 111 crossing the cliiiTinel, suffer two or three hours' seasick- ness. As yet, the miinVtrv, taking good military counsel, faintly refuse their assent. But Barhiroxsa^ and some other dynamite Irish patriots, hope that the ministry may ultimately yield their assent to the project. Then these patrons of dynamite war will have the progress of the tunnel closely watched ; will ascertain the points at which the ceiling of the tunnel is thinnest ; that is, the jjoints of least resistance. As soon as the tunnel is tinislied and in use, Barha- rossa, the general of the dynamite army, will send some of his most trusty followers to P^rance. There they will send off to England, by the tunnel, two or three trunks full of dynamite, with an exploding clock in each, well- timed to explode the dynamite at or near a point where the superincumbent mass of earth and water is lightest ; so tiiat, the roof of the tunnel being blown off, the sea- water may rush in, and fill it from Calais to Dover. Should there be a few car-loads of Englisii in the tun- nel, just tiien, so much the better. This will be, perhaps, the first of many great dynamite victories, while the vic- tors keep themselves safe under the protection of the United States ; for this army never goes out to battle, but figlits only with its forlorn hope. Should there chance to be, also, a few car-loads of French in the tun- nel, at the time of the explosion, it is but the chance of war. When it was first said that tite ThiKji^ of India were a religious sect, the world was loath to believe in this amal- gamation of devotion and murder. It can no longer be doubted. The patriots of this day have embraced Thug- gee, the most sacred rite of which is secret assassination. I i ; 170 When one of tlicni is convicted of cole])rating this sacra- ment, he at once becomes a martyr and a saint to his comrades. L. I WILL here give to those visionary pliilosophers, who would reform the world by making radical revolutions in all governments, the real obstacle to the success of their theories. When we have ascertained, by sad experience, man's true nature and character, the crooked and deceptive arts by which they seek their ends ; we must perceive that their essentially corrupt and unreliable nature renders it impossible that the officials of any government can be honest enough to be safely ti-usted with such extraordi- nary power and patronage, as is needed to enal)le the State to do for the community, anything that people can do for themselves?. This is especially true in governments based on universal manhood suffrage, in which demagogues take the place of statesmen. It is not that there is no truth or honesty among men. But these are very unob- trusive qualities, thrust aside by their obtrusive imita- tions. The true and pure " Una " of tlie poet is over- looked and neglected, while the false and artful Duessa usurps her place. For a certain amount of shallowness, a large amount of plausibility, and an absence of scruples, are needed to make an eminently successful leader of ])opnlar opinion. These are the qualities to help men into office, in democ- racies. And while the peoj^le think that these men are zealously serving their aims, they are simply seeking their own ends, and providing for themselves. That this is the 171 tof |i to ion. lOC- are heir the result of goveniinont by universal suffrapje, a few noto- rious examples will serve to prove. Louis Napoleon Uonaparte, in his early youth, was Bornethi'i*; more than a democrat ; indeed, utterly radical and revolutionary in liis political demonstrations. In the south of Italy he mixed himself uj) with the most social- istic secret societies, which aimed at overturning every estai)lished institution of civil life. Later in life, after some years of dissolute and bohemian livinroperty. To satisfy these millions of greedy claimants, all the acquisitions and accumulations, resulting from the industry, skill, and economy of private persons, would have to be divided among them. What a splendid result would tiiis be, from the progress of civilization and political wisdom ! Political corruption is bad enoug.i. But perhaps it is not the worst symptom spreading o^^er the United States. There is one growing rapidly, which comes home to men's bosoms and their families. In mnst of the States of the Union tliere has been in this generation a great relaxa- tion of the l)inding nature of the marriage contract. And it has been followed by an even disproportioned multiplication of divorces. The most frivolous causes seem to suffice for dissolving a marriage. While, in fact, wherevcv* it is most difficult to obtain a divorce, there the fewer married people seek or desire one. ^il ►if-^ I I I 176 This facility of divorce, and the frequency of them, besides demoralizing the whole people ; is particularly destructive to the training, morals, character, and happi- ness of the offspring of the divorced couples. Society and social life are founded on the fatnily, and this foundation seems to be rotting away. Nothing can re- place it. LI. Do NATIONS deteriorate i Perhaps they do. Nations may become corrupted and degraded. But, judging by the light of history, the chief cause producing a radical, permanent, incurable deterioration of national character has been tlie intermixture with inferior races. The Greeks, in their later history, certainly declined h. national character, after the conquests of Alexander a; ' his successors had mingled them with other races of western Asia and eastern Africa. Tlie original characteristics of the Eomans seem to have been very much altered after their wide conquests. These conquests introduced a crowd of people of various races into Italy, both as freemen and slaves. That and subsequent immigrations greatly altered the character of the people of Italy. The Saracens, in their wide conquests, intermixed tiiemselves with inferior races more effectually than the Greeks and the Romans. The practice of polygamy and their eagerness to make converts to tlieir faith promoted this intermixture. There can be little doubt that the race of the Arabs is much deteriorated, by polygamy especially, even in Arabia. The same remark applies to the Turks, but they mingled themselves chiefly with bet- 177 mixed in the y and moted at the ter races. Both Turks and Saracens showed great disre- gard to race. As Lord Bacon remarivs of tlie Turks, they had no vahie for stu'j>s m marriage. Wliert purity of i-ace is not vahied it is vain to look for the permanent maintenance of native character and traits. Tlie iiitroduction of inferior races into a country will affect its institutions and its social condition. The preseilce of sev^eral millions of manumitted negroes in the Soutliern States of the Union greatly affects their political, industrial, and social condition. Something like this would he the effect, in time, should there he a great influx from over-peopled (^hina into the United States by the convenient ports on the Pacific coast. In the case of tlie negro and the Chinese, their presence seems to tend little to bring about a mixture of blood. But, industrially and politically, their ])resence is an evil to the country. What would be the effect uf the introduction of sev- eral millions of Chinese into England i They are indus- trious laborers, very saving, even on low wages. Their piesence there would be disastrous to the laboring classes. They would under-live them, and lower their condition. The great intlux even of Irish into England has had that tendency there. For they are content to live on cheaper food, and with fewer household comforts, than the English laborer. It is a great evil to nations of the better races to be pitted in the struggle for the means of living, against races which, from their low estimate of what is needed for decent and comfortable living, can sui)))lant a higher race by under-working and under-living them. The negroes are the least evil; for they would almost rather starve than work, at least persistently. But the Chinese I ■ Vi ■ 178 are very industrious and economical, and can starve out any white race of laborers. I have said that States have no right to prohibit em- migration. That is an infringement on natural liberty. But a nation of one race has a perfect right to prohibit the immigration of inferior races. For such an influx does tliem a most serious and permanent injury. One of the first duties of a people is to preserve* the purity of their race. Races 7nalc^ institutions. Yon cannot trans- fer the institutions of one race to another, they will not work well there ; not even from the Teuton to the Celt, much as they may seem to resemble each other. A dis- regard to race and descent is a gross error. Is there such a thing as patriotism ? JudgiTig from men's words rather than their conduct, there doubtless is. Yet difl^erent men have ', ery different ideas of patriotism, and would define it very discordantly. With many it is but a name for local attachment. Many an Englishman limits his, at heart, to his village, his town, or a particular street in his city. Many a rustic Scotchman, to his moor. Many an Irishman to his potato patch, and the bog which yields his turf. Many a Bedouin Arab to his desert, including the little oasis wliere he pitches his tent, while a few date palms are rij^ening their fruit over his head. Each of these men locates his patriotism at that spot where his interests and habits have found a home. Some men of ivithci more enlarged ideas will tell you that their patriotism cleaves to the institutions of their country. But in this revolutionary age the institutions of many countries are undergoing such rapid changes, that the patriotism ef but ten years ago must fii d a new obj'^ct to cleave to to-day. 179 out 10118 iges, new Some men may say that their patriotism binds them to their race — deriving patriotism, not from pafria, but going further back, to pater ; their patriotism cleaving exclusively to the race from which they sprung ; whether it be a nomadic tribe wandering incessantly in the wilds of Tartary, or Arabia, or the Sahara, or, like the modem Jews, scattered over the face of the earth. Although no lover of the modern Jews, or of their characteristics — being more prone to borrow than to lend, and having paid far more for the use of money than I ever received — I can better understand this form of patriotism than that of mere locality. Doubtless a man's tnie native country is his race. Nature seems to have implanted something very like an antipathy between widely different races. And a thorough intermixture of the blood of two or more races of widely different char- acters utterly destroys the possibility of feeling true patriotism. Even local admixture goes far to produce that effect. As to local ])atrioti8m, its chief value is the means it affords of keeping up the better patriotism of race. With reference to this combination of the two forms of patriotistn, the Celtic Irish are tlie most patriotic of people. Migration to another country, and even sworn allegiance to its government, does not make the Irishman less Irish tlian he was before he left Ireland. The dream of his waking as of liis sleeping hours is still how to expel, or to extirpate from his country, the Norman and Saxon intniders of seven centuries' standing, and restore the green gem of the ocean to its earlier settlers. And yet, strange to say, in all their aspirations to that end, the,y have been often guided and led by scions cut from the stock of those foreign intruders \:hom they still call m '«• If 180 Saxons — thu8 betraying who were the natural rulers of the country. For my part, I value the patriotism of race far above those of locality, or of eplicmeral institutions. In my opinion an English lady, or Seotcli, or German, or French, or Irish, makes a grosser and more hopeless mesalliance in wedding a Turkish Pasha, a Chinese Mandarin, a Hindoo Rajah, or a Mohawk chief, than if she married an honest plowman of her own race and country. For although the liuman offspring is thought to take after the mother rather than the father, in making that mesal- liance^ she has spoiled the hreed. 111. I NEVER could see on what solid ground was based the claim, that the mere fact that a man is in a country, \vith nothing but those personal endowments he received from Nature, gave him a right to exercise a voice in the making of its laws, in controlling the nation there, and imposing taxes on the property of individuals. A primitive tribe, weak in numbers, surrounded by dangv i-s, in constant danger of extirpation by more powp ful neighboi'S, and needing- the aid of the armed hand of every man among them to preserve, if possible, their existence, might in tlieir emergency liave adopted such a polity. But we know that they seldom or never did, and certainly never retained it long. Almost every country has' preferred to be governed, even when it be- came a republic, by those who have something at stake in tlie community beyond tlieir mere personal presence there. Their interest otherwise is not obvious and definite 181 ice lite enough to entitle them to any influence in controlling the affairs of other people. It may even become their •interest to mismanage them. A voter, therefore, should have a stake in the com- munity, to make him feel the ill effects of gross mis- management of the public and private interests of the. nation. There is no qnuliflcation for the franchise so easily and certainly ascertdned, as that which compels men to share the burden of supporting the government, that is, one which necessarily renders him liable to taxa- tion, a property ([ualilication. Then, if those in office mismanage tlie affairs of the public, this voter with a property qualification who put them into office, feels the effect of their incapacity or dishonesty, as he ought to do. Nothing is more disgusting in politics than to dis- cover, not only the corrupt, but often the utterly frivolous motives which, control men's votes, where they have no honest interest at stake.* Pie who represents the qualified voters needs no other qualification than the confidence of those he represents. They choose and send him as their agent or attorney to attend to tlieir public interests. The important point to the country at large is, that they who send him should have such a stake in the country, that they can and ought to have a share in controlling its counsels. In the English House of Commons (all the parlia- mentary bodies of this day are imitations of the English parliament) in early times, each borough paid the expenses of the member it sent there. He was the agen^ or attorney attending to tlieir V>usiness and interests. Grad- ually, men ambitious of being in public life, gave up asking for their pay as members of the House of Oom- moiii. They found out that the post yielded not only ? 'i fl r 182 honor, but might be made to yield profit also. It was good policy not to ask to have their expenses paid them. Andrew Marvell, member for Hull, Yorkshire, during most of the reign of (^harles II, a man of more scrupulous integrity than often falls to the lot of members of parlia- mentary bodies, is said to have been the last M.P. whose expenses were regularly paid by his constituents. Since then parliamentary bodies have sprung up in many countries, and a corrupt practice has sprung up witii them. The representatives of particular constitu- encies are paid, not by those they represent, but by the State, as if they were executive or administrative otficers of the government, which they are not. This change has been exceeding convenient to needy demagogues who would thrust tliemselves into public life, in order to obtain more profitable ofiices, under the guise of patriot- ism. It has greatly smoothed tl*e path of many a needy patriot. But for this change in the mode of paying representatives, the Congress of the United States could not have distinguished themselves, as they did a few years ago, in nuiking their famous, or notorious, Salary Grab. A government based on this modern invention, uni- versal manhood suffrage, as the source of all political power, represented by their paid agents; can be best likened t'^ a great national bank to which every one in the community is required to subscribe, not only all he has, both of material and intellectual accpiisitions, but all he may yet acquire. The managers are to be appointed, not by proxies, each proportioned to the number of »iiares each subscriber holds. No, there are no proxies. All the manhood suffrage voters must attend at the election 183 and choose the managers. When the day is at hand for declaring a dividend ; these managers after appropriating the amount needed to meet the expenses of this institu- tion, expenses made up of salaries, sundries, almost numberless, and a monstrous unexplained contingent fund ; they then allot to each voter an equal share of the dividend. Those who have contributed large amounts to the capital of the bank, now see that they have been robbed, both by the managers and the vast majority of the voters who have contributed little, most of them nothing, to the bank capital, consisting of all the earnings and accumulations of a nation. Under ary other govern- ment, they would appeal for justice to the courts of law and e iiiity. But in this case the multitude of robbers and plunderers are at once the jury, the court, the law ! There is no appeal ! Tiiere is no justice before or behind them ! This is the true working of manhood suffrage when thoroughly in operation. LIII. We have said and labored to prove, that the ends for which government exists are two, and two only. 1st. The administration of justice within the community. 2d. The defense of the community and of the individ- uals composing it against external enemies. In a primi- tive state of society, while men are united into small tribes only, and are in constant danger of attacks from without, defense against foes from without is the dominent need for government. But when States come to unite civilized multitudes, in occupation of a 14 H tl I *w 184 territory with extensive and well-defined horderfl, dan- gers from abroad become remote and occasional ; and the administration of justice, tlie protection of private rights from dan^jers frotn witliin, become the chief nse and end of government. In extensive and civilized countries multitudes go from tlieir cradles to tlieir graves without ever seeing the face of a foriMgn enemy, yet every day of their lives have looked in the face of inter- nal enemies, quite ready to rob them of their rights, if the obstacles were removed which government puts in their way. Tiie more the country thrives, the denser the population becomes, the more these enemies mul- tiply. Society is full of selfisli, grasping, rapacious animals in the guise of men. Envy of the successful an> / /J. Photographic Sciences Corporation ''^^^^.K^. ^i%'^\ ^"^^ .^^ 4^'^ 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 wc Z( 186 II I i favor ; and places of trust and power, are tilled, not by statesmen, but demagogues. For the talents that best serve to win office, are very different from those which can nil it, and fulfill its duties best. Many of these suc- cessful aspirants for popular favor, are doubtless men of abilities, to serve their own purposes. But they must redeem their pledge : " Do the greatest good to the greatest number." The country is rich, with great re- sources, unfortunately in the hands of a comparatively few. They do not stop to inquire how that came to pass. These resources of the country, common to all, must benefit all. They must clothe, feed, house, educate the nation. These demagogue statesmen must indent modes of distributing the bounties of Nature, not forgetting to provide for themselves, and their personal partisans. If they have few of the latter, they must win more by aid of government patronage. Unluckily they find it diffi- cult to get beyond that point. Partisans are so numerous and so greedy, that the resources of the country already begin to fail under their exactions. More must be exacted from the producing classes, for the benefit of those who do not, will not, or cannot produce. The country is on the verge of a crisis, and shows unexpected symp- toms of a decay of prosperity and resources. They cannot see the true reason. It is suffering from misgovernment, on utterly false principles. You only need to continue this policy, to ruin the prosperity of the country, degrade its civilization, and sap the very idea of property and honesty. The great bulk of the resources of every civilized country, at least, are the result of the industry, skill, and economy of individuals, and of right must remain in their hands. Moreover, the very possession of these resources, 187 ought to give them so much influence and control over the government, as to enable them to prevent its entering on any policy, leading to their ruin, which involves that of the community. The principle of representation, in a representative State, must embrace that much at least, as to acquired and vested rights. Let us take the United States as an example of a Gov- ernment founded on certain theories as to political organi- zation. It would require the jDrofoundest ignorance, or the height of hypocrisy in any man, to enable him to assert that the Government that now exists there is the same that was founded by the thirteen States, in 1789, when they made that treaty with each other, wliicli is known as " the Constitution of the United States." Since then, democracy has utterly changed its nature, and per- verted most of the principles of confederation and repub- licanism involved in it. Xow, practically, it is impossible to say what are the powers of tlie Federal Government, or what are the limits to its jiowers. Let any impartial man, sit down, and read the Constitution as it was adopted in 1789, and compare that treaty between the thirteen States, with the centralized Government that now exists in its place. It would be too much to ask of him, to trace the numberless steps by wliicli this revolution has been achieved. It has become a paternal Government, aiming to do for the people all that they should do for them- selves. Tlie United States Government originated in, andivas based on, confederation, not on universal suffrage. The latter was an afterthought, .springing tip rapidly, over- growing, smothering, and is now blotting out the confed- eration. If 11.;' 1 '1 . 188 LIY. I As TO the usurpation of duties by the State, I will^ give an illustration. One modern and very conspicuous charity, originating solely from, and still supported by private benevolence, escaped by its peculiar nature, the usurping patronage of the State. I refer to the life-boats, and life-saving service which watches over the crews of vessels in distress on the British coast. Perhaps tlie fact that it ajffords no patronage to those in office sheltered it from their propensity to meddle with every charity. It has escaped that dangerous incubus of State patronage and control ; and survives in its natural condition of a spontaneous combination of the benevolence of individ- uals, to exhibit the provident arrangements of Nature for such ends, and the needless and mischievous effects of State intermeddling beyond the sphere of its duties. Private benevolence suggested this charity. Private beneficence still pays the cost of it ; and heroic private beneficence carries it into effective operation. For, al- though the crews of life-boats are, to some extent, paid for their services, being laboring men, fishermen, pilots, and others, earning a living by some other boating service ; they are paid only for their occasional exertions in the life-boats, while practising as a crew, or actually assisting a vessel in distress. But*a great many of these men have lost tlieir lives in this hazardous employment. It is so little tempting or profitable, that perhaps not one of them ever embarked in it with a view to profit. We must attribute to them no small amount of zeal to save life, even at tiie hazard of their own. This life-saving service is a conspicuous illustration of what private benevolence in voluntary combination, can 189 do in various directions for the relief of human needs and wants, for tlie mitigation of destitution and suffering, •'^or the instruction of the ignorant, and for most other ills in society, without any usurping, intermeddling, and control over private charities, on the part of the State. The State will best serve the purposes of humanity, not by founding its own institutions for the relief of chronic or even casual evils, and providing for their support by taxation, thus making people charitable by act of parlia- ment ; but by simply facilitating the combination of pri- vate charity, by incorporating these associations, and legalizing their action when applied to for that purpose. I am convinced that even the care and management of the most difficult evil in society, the case of the insane, could be so provided for. It must be remembered that the attempt, on the part of the State, to do certain kinds of good, prevents much of the good of those kinds, which would have been done by private charity. It largely uses up, by taxation and misappropriation, the means that would have l)een at the command of private benevolence, and discourages the exercise of it. Government exists only for the preven- tion of actual evil, not to originate direct and positive good. Its duties are negative. It is a costly and bur- densome institution at the best ; and becomes more burden- some with every new duty it assumes, and with every additional power it usurps, beyond its primitive duties of administering justice, and defending the community, which two duties the State alone can perform. History affords many striking examples, by the suc- cessful performance of these two duties, by the State, under very adverse circumstances, indicating that they are the sole duties Nature intended the State to fulfill for the community under its protection. 190 As to national defense. Governments, when once well established, have seldom failed, in time of war, to call out the strength and resources of the nation ; and to find courageous, patriotic, and faithful leaders of their forces raised to defend the country. Not to nmltiply examples : A few small and divided States, in Greece, often at war with each other, for once uniting tlieir arms, succeeded in resisting and defeating the seemingly overwhelming and irresistible forces of the Persian Empire. And, in far later times, the barren, sparsel}' peopled kingdom of Scotland, habitually much divided, and at war within itself ; repeatedly foiled the efforts at conquest, made by her far richer, more populous, united, and powerful neighbor, close on I er border. We may observe liere tliat States are seldom jealous of their prerogative, their exclusive right to defend the country. When hard pressed, they gladly receive the aid of those of the community, or from elsewhere, who not being em- bodied in the regular levies, voluntarily take arms as partisan co/ps, to resist and harass the enemy ; and also the aid of privateers, under letters of marque^ seeking to cripple their commercial resources. As to the matter of the administration of justice. We find, to our surprise, that even under so corrupt, effete, and declining a government as that of the Roman Empire ; long after the palmy days of Koman vigor and greatness had passed away, the science of jurisprudence was more assiduously cultivated than it ever had been in the history of man. Steadily, for centuries, under a corrupt and despotic goveiTiment, experiencing frequent and sudden changes of its rulers, by military sedition and violence, there grew up a code of laws, which, while it did not protect the 191 langes people against the State ; or secure their liberties against political or military tyranny ; jet all those who have mastered its provisions, unite in declaring that, in the protection it affords to private riglits against the aggres- sions of private persons, it far surpasses any human code ; approaching near to a perfect system of ethics. And we have reason to believe that, even in those troubled and corrupt ages, it was usually fairly administered in the courts of the Empire. This " Roman Civil Law," the code of Justinian, is to this day the basis of the civil law of the wliole of Western Europe, except England. To give another example of the natural tendency of a government to fulfill the great duty of administering justice between the people under its rule. Under the corrupt and tyrannical government of France, under the Old Refjime^ the redeeming page of its liistory, the brightest star that shone on the progress of the nation, was seen in the administration of justice in civil suits — in the learning and purity of the twhleme ile la robe. For the provincial parlements, by a gradual evolution, liad become the high courts of justice. They retained their independence and patriotism as courts of law, in astonish- ing purity, in spite of the national corruption around them. Xo country excelled France in the learning, wisdom, and integrity of its judges. The basis of the French code was this same Code of Jitf^t'inian. Yet strange to say, most of these men entered on their professional career, by the purchase of an office, or seat in the courts. The noblesse de la robe seem to have been a very peculiar body — consisting of families which had for generations devoted themselves to the law — each one giving no small part of his patrimony to the cost of an elaborate education, and perhaps most of the remainder .M ■^ 192 to the purchase of the post of a counsellor of parleinent — which enabled him to practise the profession. Profes- sional and family pride seem usually to have mounted guard over their integrity. To my mind, the success of the combined benevolence of individuals in the life-saving service ; and the unexpected success of feeble nations in national defense, and of corrupt States in the administration of justice — are broad liints, given by provident Nature, to States, to devote themselves exclusively to these two last duties, and to let charities and other matters alone — as out of their sphere. LY. When we listen to the theories of a host of political philosophers of this enlightened age ; and hear from them what social and political reforms, or rather revolutions, are strongly urged upon us, as essential to the welfare, progress, nay, the preservation of society ; we are tempted to think the t. orld is just waking up out of primitive barbarism. But on looking back on past ages — for we have the means of so doing — on a careful survey of the past, and comparing it with the present ; the iirst thing that strikes us is, that man was then pretty much what he is now, but with vast changes in his habits and opinions, in some countries. The next thing is, that men, strongly influenced by the first government they knew, the patri- archal rule, made the most strenuous efforts to extend its application. Even after they had tried such other forms of government as accidental circumstances suggested; they soon found that the greatest and most frequent source of commotion, tumult, violence, and crime, dis- 193 tracting and breakiug up the cotnmunity — was the fierce and unscrupulous struggles generated by individual ambition. How was this evil to be guarded against? Nature provided for it. At some critical period in the life of a tribe, a combina- tion of tribes, or of a nation, some man of eminent ability and energy had rescued it from great dangers, perhaps conquest or extermination by foreign enemies. He united the community into a more compact body, perhaps drew into union witli it some neighboj'ing and cognate tribes ; and averting a succession of dire public evils, may have ruled the nation long and prosperously. In the decUne of liis years, lie may have intrusted to his son many of tlie more active duties of the public service. Tiiis son, if an able man, would acquire great personal influence, and attach many of the chief and most able of the nation to himself. Meanwhile a new generation has grown up, and the nation, almost without knowing it, is returning to tlie patriarchal idea of government. On the death of the father, the son may naturally succeed liim. For there might well be nobody in the commu ity, who saw the least chance of successfully disputing with him the first place in the nation. The renmant of patriarchal rule and influence would still linger in many localities, and prepare the people, quite familiar with it, to return to, and adopt it on the largest scale. It is a gross misconception to suppose that hercc'itary rule originated in usurpation and tyranny. It must have begun in the confiding attachment of followers to a chief. Justice and fair dealing to those under his rule, are in- ttinctively his natural policy ; and are equally the natural !; 194 policy of his successors. In \\\g\v political coiiduct none of tliein seek to make enemies among their subjects. Personally, they have no motive for oppressing one chiss for the benefit of another. Communities and nations very early discovered, rather by instinct than reason, this simple means of shutting out a large part of tliose tierce contentions whicli tore society to pieces. They gave the place of chief, or rather, they promptly received as their chief, the son of their dead chief. This gradually hardened into the rule of succes- sion by hereditary descent, as the best safeguard against a disputed succession and its possible consequences. This remedy against civil tumult and war, and the possible division of the nation, must liave a foundation in man''8 instinctive search after peace and civil order. For it has been adopted in every age, in every country, in every phase of society, among every race of men who even approximated to civilization. Numerous as have been the civil w^ars and internal commotions, harassing and devastating nations, the nar- ratives of which cover a monstrous proportion of the pages of history ; they would have been vastly multiplied, and their evils greatly swollen but for this one rule — the hereditary succession of the son to the father. Taking into view tlie whole history of nations, tliis rule of hered- itary succession has secured to them more unity, peace, and prosperity ; has curbed more cidminal ambition, and proved a stronger safeguard against intestine commo- tion — than any other conceivable measure could have done. No doubt many a republic, and occasionally, even an oligarchy, has been driven to adopt monarchy for the sake of peace and safety ; and once adopted, monarchy 195 iking ered- )eace, and nmo- lave naturally becomes hereditary. It is a great security to the peace and prosperity of tlic country when, the an- nouncement, " Le Roi — est mort^'^ is at once followed by the proclamation " Vim le Roi /" shutting out com- motion, and forestalling the ambition that might lead to bloody wars. Some nations have not limited succession to the male line ; but, in default of a sol to succeed the dead sove- reign, have given their allegiance to the daughter. Nor do any particular evils seem to have sprung from this enlargement of the rule of hereditary succes- sion. Female succession has at times been attended by peculiar success, and been received with extraordinary enthusiasm. As when Maria Theresa, Empress of Aus- tria, being hard pressed by her great enemy, Frederick, of Prussia, assembled the Hungarian nobles, and person- ally applied to them for aid. They rose as one man, drew their swords and exclaimed as with one voice : " We will die for our King, Maria Theresa !" In primitive times, the duties of the king might be simply defined. Thus, the discontented people of Israel demanded a king of the prophet Samuel, "That our King may judge us, and go out before us, and fight our battles." They looked only for the performance of the two great duties of the State. No hereditary monarchy ever existed long without there growing up around it limitations to the exercise of sovereign power. Very soon there were many things that the king could not do. Even under the autocratic empire of Persia, it became the established rule that the royal decree should be preceded by a consultation of the great otficers and notables of the Empire ; and to secure caution in legislation the maximum was adopted, that the 196 decree was unchangeable, " According to the law of the Modes and the Persians, which alteroth not." The limitation to the abuse of sovereign power is, in almost every nation, exercised lii'st by a class scattered over the country, wielding great local influence. They may be the heads of old tribes wliich still feel the influ- ence of ancestral ties, or more often, the heads of great families which some generations of able and success- ful ancestors have raised to local importance. Many of them are highly educated, not a few are able men accus- tomed to deal with affairs of importance, and to exercise great influence. These men have their ambition, but it is not of a revolutionary kind. No class is more interested in the prosperity and good government of the State, or more anxious to promote it than they are. Governments are essentially conservative institutions, create