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THERE can be no 
 Kope of progress or 
 freedom for the 
 people witKout tne un- 
 restricted and complete 
 enjoyment of tne right 
 of free speech, free press 
 and peaceful assembly. 
 
 Gift of 
 
 IRA B. CROSS 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
7^ 
 
 t i 
 
THE THEORY 
 
 OF 
 
 HUMAN PROGRESSION 
 
 BY 
 PATRICK EDWARD DOVE 
 
 A bridged hy 
 JULIA A. KELLOGG 
 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 ISAAC H. BLANCHARD COMPANY 
 
 1910 
 

 Copyright, 1910, by 
 ISAAC H. BLANCHARD CO. 
 
 New York 
 
 fl 
 
 ^^r^-" 
 
FOREWORD 
 
 THE purpose of this abridgement is to aid the 
 Propaganda now in progress for a reform in 
 our land-tenure in line with the ideas of Henry 
 George: as promulgated in his great book, '* Progress and 
 Poverty/* a reform generally known as *' The Single 
 Tax." To this end the parts of the work upon the owner- 
 ship of natural resources, and kindred topics, are given 
 nearly in full, the metaphysical parts, on the other hand, 
 being given only with sufficient completeness to induce 
 those readers who are interested in the philosophy of 
 progress to have recourse to the original for themselves. 
 
 Our author shows clearly that land is naturally com-\ 
 mon property and that the failure to see this and to ad- 1 
 just our system of political economy to its truth is the/ 
 supreme cause of poverty with all the suffering and degraJ 
 dation that poverty entails. 
 
 J. A. K. 
 
 " Slowly comes a hungry people; as a lion creeping nigher 
 Glares at one that nods and winks behind a slowly-dying 
 fire." 
 
 Tennyson. 
 
 447985 
 
THE BOOK AND THE AUTHOR 
 
 Abridged feom Alexander Harvey, Editor. 
 
 PATRICK EDWARD DOVE was a Scotchman, 
 born at Lasswade, near Edinburgh, July 31, 
 1815. His father was a Lieutenant Dove of the 
 royal navy. The families of both parents had been for 
 generations rich and prominent. The Doves had given 
 many officers of high rank to the navy of their king, and 
 one ancestor had been bishop of Peterborough, famous 
 in his day. Commander Francis Dove settled the family 
 in Devonshire in 1716. 
 
 Patrick Edward received a good education in his own 
 country and in France. From the French Academy he 
 was expelled in disgrace for leading his fellow-students 
 in an open insurrection against the tutors. On leaving 
 school he had the intention of goingj into the navy, but he 
 yielded to his father's wish that he should be a gentle- 
 man farmer, and went up to Scotland to learn something 
 of husbandry. He led practically, however, the life of a 
 gentleman of leisure, reading and traveling, making sev- 
 eral tours on the continent and residing for some years 
 in France. 
 
 In 1840 he came into his property and the next year 
 took the estate called ** The Craig.** 
 
 He was said to be the most popular landlord in Scot- 
 land. But this landlord did not believe in landlords. Pie 
 maintained that the soil of a nation was the inheritance 
 of all its people. He was never weary of repeating that 
 rent should go to the State for the benefit of all. 
 
Also, he did net believe in the game laws. He had no 
 keeper on his great estate and no poacher was ever in- 
 terfered with. Anotlier peculiarity was his friendship for 
 Ireland. He stood up stoutly for the Irish peasantry 
 and denounced Britain's treatment of it. 
 
 For seven years he lived thus happily on his estate, but 
 in 1848 an imprudent investment swept away his fortune. 
 Soon after that he married, his bride being penniless like 
 himself. The newly-wedded couple went to live in Darm- 
 stadt, where the husband studied and lectured and wrote. 
 They were never unprosperous. 
 
 " The Theory of Human Progression ** was the first 
 fruit of this toil. The work appeared anonymously. A 
 limited edition was published in 1850, both in London and 
 Edinburgh. In brief, the book is the single-tax theory 
 elucidated a generation in advance of Henry George. 
 What Dove did for scholars, George achieved for the 
 masses. 
 
 Economic works were not widely read at that time. 
 Nevertheless Carlyle read and praised the volume. Sir 
 William Hamilton, the great philosopher, pronounced it 
 epoch-making, and our own Charles Sumner was so im- 
 pressed by it that he circulated many copies in the United 
 States and persuaded Dove to write in behalf of the 
 emancipation movement. For all that the book failed to 
 make its way and before many years was utterly for- 
 gotten. 
 
 On leaving Germany Dove settled in Edinburgh and 
 soon acquired reputation as a teacher and writer. 
 
 The latter part of his life was characterized by an in- 
 terest in military matters. He was a man of peace, a de- 
 vout Christian and a scholar, yet he was deeply imbued 
 with the idea of the ultimate necessity of social revolu- 
 tion. He freely expressed the opinion that the masses in 
 their own interest should familiarize themselves with the 
 
technicalities of warfare. He did his best to popularize 
 this sort of knowledge. In 1848 he produced a treatise 
 on the Revolver and the handling of firearms generally. 
 He even went to the length of inventing a rifle cannon 
 which was commended by competent authorities. He had 
 command also of a rifle corps and of a regiment of volun- 
 teers which he drilled and equipped himself. He became 
 an authority on the militia. 
 
 By this time he was residing in Glasgow, and in I860 
 he was suddenly stricken with paralysis. Henceforth he 
 lived mostly a retired life and died April 28, 1873. 
 
 Note. — It is pleasant to know that he lived to see the aboli- 
 tion of slavery in the United States, which he had foretold 
 years before as a deduction from the general principles of 
 his own theory of the progress of mankind. 
 
Dedication 
 
 To 
 
 MONSIEUR VICTOR COUSIN, 
 
 Prof, of Philosophy at Paris. 
 
 To you I beg leave to dedicate the following Essay on 
 Human Progression, with those sentiments of esteem and 
 admiration which I share in common with so many of my 
 countrymen.^ 
 
 The truth I endeavor to inculcate is — That credence rules the 
 world — that credence determines the condition and fixes the des- 
 tiny of nations — that true credence must ever entail with it a 
 correct and beneficial system of society, while false credence 
 must ever be accompanied by despotism, anarchy, and wrong — 
 that before a nation can change its condition it must change 
 its credence; that change of credence will of necessity be ac^ 
 companied sooner or later by change of condition: and conse- 
 quently, that true credence, or in other words knowledge, is the 
 only means by which man can work out his wellbeing and ame- 
 liorate his condition on the globe. 
 
 The question is often asked. What is the use of philosophy? — 
 nor is the answer difficult. Next to religion, philosophy is, of 
 all known causes, the element that most powerfully tends to de- 
 termine the condition of a country. It is a power — a power so 
 vast that we are scarcely likely to overestimate its effects; and, 
 though it must ever be unable to solve the great questions in 
 which our race is involved, it may, by uprooting political super- 
 stitions and false religions, exercise an influence that no calcu- 
 lation can compute. The theories of one generation become the 
 habitual credence of the next; and that habitual credence, trans- 
 formed into a rule of action, is erelong realized as a palpable 
 fact in the outward condition of society. And thus it may be 
 truly said — As the philosophy of a country is, so its condition 
 will be. 
 
To no one could I dedicate a work intended to elucidate these 
 principles, so appropriately as to yourself — to you, Sir, wha 
 have labored so earnestly and so well to give to your country- 
 men a correct system of Ethical Philosophy, and, through them, 
 to communicate to Europe a scheme of natural morals which 
 must erelong bear a rich and most beneficial harvest. 
 
 Accept Sir, the dedication of this work as a tribute of re- 
 spect from your sincere admirer. 
 
 The Authoe. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 chapter 'ag's 
 
 Introduction — Preliminary Explanation 
 
 OF THE Nature of Political Science . 1 
 
 I. The Elements of Human Progression . 7 
 
 II. The Theory of Man's Intellectual Pro- 
 gression 68 
 
 III. The Theory of Men's Practical Progres- 
 sion 95 
 
 IV. Sentiments of the Human Mind which Have 
 
 Ruled Society 133 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 PRELIMINARY EXPLANATION OF THE NATURE OP 
 POLITICAL SCIENCE 
 
 BEFORE attempting to exhibit an argument to 
 establish the possibility of a science of politics 
 it is necessary to define exactly what we mean 
 by such a science. 
 
 Science is nature seen by the reason, and not merely 
 by the senses. Science exists in the mind, and in the 
 mind alone. Wherever the substantives of a science 
 may be derived from, or whatever may be their charac- 
 ter, they form portions of a science only as they are 
 made to function logically in the human reason. Un- 
 less they are connected by the law of reason and con- 
 sequent, so that one proposition is capable of being 
 correctly evolved from two or more other propositions, 
 called the premises, the science as yet has no existence, 
 and has still to be discovered. Logic, therefore, is the 
 universal form of all science. It is science with blank 
 categories, and when these blank categories are filled 
 up, either with numbers, quantities, and spaces, as in 
 the mathematical sciences, or with qualities and powers 
 of matter, as in the physical sciences, mathematics and 
 physics take their scientific origin, and assume an or- 
 dination which is not arbitrary. Science, then, wher- 
 ever it is developed, is the same for the human intellect 
 wherever that intellect can comprehend it. It abolishes 
 diversity of credence, and re-establishes unity of 
 credence. 
 
 1 
 
Politics is the science of Equity, and treats of the 
 relations of Men in equity. 
 
 It professes to develop the laws by which human 
 actions ought to be regulated, in so far as men inter- 
 fere with each other. 
 
 In position it is posterior to political economy and 
 anterior to religion. Its principal substances are: 
 Man, Will, Action, Duty, Crime, Rights, Wrongs and 
 Property; and the general problem is to discover the 
 laws which should regulate the voluntary actions of 
 men towards each other, and thereby to determine what 
 the order of society in its practical construction and 
 arrangement ought to be. 
 
 It is quite evident that the earth cannot function in 
 political economy until it is transformed into a power 
 of production having a value. And, to carry it for- 
 ward into the science of politics, all that is requisite 
 is to apply the axiom, " an object is the property of 
 its creator " ; so that when political economy has de- 
 termined, by a scientific method which is not arbitrary, 
 what value is created and who creates this value, poli- 
 tics takes up the question where political economy had 
 left it, and determines, according to a method which 
 is not arbitrary, to whom the created value should be 
 allocated. 
 
 In man, the subject, lies the whole question of hu- 
 man liberty; in the earth, the object, the whole ques- 
 tion to human property: and political science, if it be 
 really and truly a branch of knowledge must assume 
 to determine, not merely the laws that should regulate 
 an individual but any number of individuals asso- 
 ciated together. Science can acknowledge no arbitrary 
 distinctions. If there be a rule at all, it must be 
 general, and therefore political science must assume 
 to determine the principles upon which political so- 
 
 2 
 
cieties ought to be constructed, and also to determine 
 the principles on which human laws ought to be made. 
 
 And as there cannot be the slightest doubt that God 
 has made truth the fountain of good, it may perhaps 
 be fairly expected, that if ever political science is 
 fairly evolved and really reduced to practice, it will 
 confer a greater benefit on mankind and prevent a 
 greater amount of evil, than all the other sciences. 
 
 Political science is peculiarly man-science; and 
 though, as yet, the subject is little or no better than 
 a practical superstition, we propose, in the present 
 volume, to exhibit an argument, affording, we think, 
 sufficient ground for believing that it will, at no dis- 
 tant period, be reduced to the same form and ordina- 
 tion as the other sciences. 
 
 Of course, anything like a unity of credence is at 
 present altogether out of the question. Such a unity 
 is neither possible nor desirable. It could only be a 
 superstition — that is, a credence without evidence. To 
 produce conviction, therefore, is not so much our hope, 
 as to endeavor to open up the questions that really re- 
 quire solution. 
 
 The first question in every branch of knowledge is 
 its method. Without method there can be no stand- 
 ard of appeal — no means of determining whether a 
 proposition is true or false. Whatever system may 
 be practically adopted, that syst;em necessarily in- 
 volves a theory ; and the question is, " Is there any 
 possibility of discovering or evolving a natural theory 
 which is not arbitrary.?" Is there in the question of 
 man's political relation to man, a truth and a falsity 
 as independent of man's opinion as are the truths of 
 geometry or astronomy? A truth there must be some- 
 where, and in the present volume we attempt to exhibit 
 the probability of its evolution. 
 
 8 
 
Our argument is based on the theory of progress, 
 or the fact of progress; for it is a fact as well as a 
 theory. And the theory of progress is based on the 
 principle, that there is an order in which man not only 
 does evolve the various branches of knowledge, but an 
 order in which man must necessarily evolve the various 
 branches of knowledge. And this necessity is based 
 on the principle, that every science when undergoing 
 its process of discovery is objective, that is, the object 
 of contemplation; but when discovered and reduced 
 to ordination it becomes subjective, that is, a means 
 of operation for the discovery and evolution of the 
 science that lies logically beyond it, and next to it in 
 logical proximity. 
 
 If this logical dependence of one science on another 
 could be clearly made out for the whole realm of knowl- 
 edge, it would give the outline, not only of the classi- 
 fication of the sciences, but of man's intellectual his- 
 tory — or his intellectual development — where the word 
 development means, not the alteration of man's nature, 
 but the extension of his knowledge, and the consequent 
 improvement of his mode of action, entailing with it 
 the improvement of his condition. 
 
 And if the law of this intellectual development can 
 be made out for the branches of knowledge which have 
 already been reduced to ordination, it may be carried 
 into the future, and the future progress of mankind 
 may be seen to evolve logically out of the past prog- 
 ress. 
 
 In attempting to classify the sciences, and to show 
 that they evolve logically out of each other, we do 
 not profess, in the slightest degree, to discourse on 
 the matter of the sciences themselves, further than 
 their primary propositions are concerned ; but on their 
 form, their position, their actual development (as com- 
 
 4 
 
monly acknowledged), and on the lesson which, as a 
 whole, they must ultimately teach. 
 
 Every function, of whatever character, or wherever 
 found, we assume to present itself under the form of 
 
 An Agent, An Object, A Product; 
 and this division belongs, in no respect, to any one 
 particular science, but to all. While a science is un- 
 dergoing its process of discovery, this logical ordina- 
 tion of its parts cannot be made on sufficient grounds. 
 
 Under these circumstances, we have given only a 
 general estimate, sufficient to direct the line of argu- 
 ment without trespassing on special departments, or 
 intruding opinions on subjects that lie beyond our 
 province. To construct an argument that should be 
 in the main correct, is all we could hope to achieve. 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 THE ELEMENTS OP HUMAN PROGRESSION 
 
 A DISTINCTION must necessarily be drawn be- 
 tween the science of politics itself, and its ap- 
 plication to Man. 
 
 The science is purely abstract and theoretic. It 
 professes only to determine the trueness or falsity of 
 certain propositions which are apprehended by the 
 reason. 
 
 But when we admit the fact that man is a moral 
 being, the theoretic dogma becomes transformed into 
 a practical rule of action, which lays an imperative 
 obligation on man to act in a particular manner, and 
 to refrain from acting in another manner. The theo- 
 retic truth determines the relations of moral beings, 
 and consequently determines what ought to be their 
 conditions with regard to each other ; the practical rule 
 determines what man may, or may not, do justly, and 
 consequently what the political construction of civil 
 society ought to be. 
 
 The science of politics then treats of equity, and of 
 the relations of men in equity. All questions of politics 
 may be discussed under the heads of liberty and prop- 
 erty, bearing in mind always that political science 
 treats exclusively of the relations of men. 
 
 An exposition of the laws of liberty should determine 
 the moral rules that preside over the actions of men in 
 the matter of mutual interference; while an exposition 
 
 7 
 
of the laws of property should determine the moral 
 rules that preside over men in their possession of the 
 earth. 
 
 But politics, taking into consideration only the rela- 
 tions of men, cannot take cognizance of any duty which 
 would still be a duty if only one man were in existence. 
 The duties of religion that relate to the Creator are be- 
 yond and above the sphere of politics ; and so also are 
 the duties of benevolence, which belong to another cate- 
 gory than equity. 
 
 It is only as men may act towards each other equitably 
 or unequitably that we consider their relations. An act 
 of benevolence is not, strictly speaking, either equitable 
 or unequitable. The recipient has no equitable claim 
 to the bounty; and what the donor gives, he gives not 
 to satisfy the law of equity, but a higher law, which 
 appHes to him as an individual, but which it is impos- 
 sible to apply (by law and force) to a society. The 
 relations of men in society must first be constructed on 
 the principle of equity, and then each individual may 
 exercise his benevolence as occasion may require. 
 Were there no equity there could be no benevolence, be- 
 cause no man could know what was his own, or what 
 he had a right to give.* 
 
 Liberty signifies the condition in which a man uses 
 his powers without the interference of another man. 
 It differs from freedom in the circumstance of amount. 
 Freedom appears to signify the absolute condition in 
 which interference by human will is altogether re- 
 moved. Liberty appears capable of indefinite varia- 
 tion : from the smallest amount that the most oppressed 
 
 * For instance, the kings of England gave lands (which be- 
 longed to the crown, that is, to the nation) to private individuals. 
 The question then is, had the incumbent monarch a right to 
 alienate those lands in perpetuity from the nation? 
 
 8 
 
slave has, to the utmost and most perfect amount, which 
 then becomes freedom.* 
 
 Liberty, in its most extensive signification, involves 
 the whole powers or conditions of men which can be 
 affected by the agency of other men; but liberty has 
 also a more restricted signification, which confines it to 
 liberty of thought, speech, publication, and action. 
 In the former sense, life is involved in liberty; in the 
 latter sense, life assumes a separate standing, and be- 
 comes a category by itself. And again, the moral 
 feelings may be interfered with by slander or defama- 
 tion; and this gives rise to another category of poli- 
 tics, namely, reputation. 
 
 Life, liberty, property, andi reputation, are then 
 viewed as the possessions of men; and the laws which 
 should regulate men in their mutual action on each 
 other, with regard to life, liberty, property, and repu- 
 tation, have to be determined by political science. 
 
 The genuine essence of all liberty is non-interfer- 
 ence, and to secure universal non-interference is the 
 first and most essential end of all political associa^ 
 tion. 
 
 But interference may be from the government and 
 law, quite as much as from the individual, and inter- 
 ference by law is incomparably more prejudicial to a 
 community than any amount of casual interference 
 that would be likely to take place in a civilized coun- 
 
 Liberty presents itself under the form of liberty of 
 thought, liberty of speech, liberty of publication and 
 liberty of action, and political liberty evolves chrono- 
 
 * Such at all events would seem to be the sense usually 
 affixed to the two terms. But, in that case, the word freedom 
 would advantageously supplant liberty in several passages of 
 the New Testament. 
 
 9 
 
logically In the order of thought, speech, publication 
 and action. To secure this liberty by law and to make 
 it exactly equal for all individuals in the eye of the 
 law is the great end of political civilization. 
 
 Time was in Briton when men attempted to con- 
 trol each other in their thoughts, and unless a man 
 renounced his creed he was tortured by the ruthless 
 arm of power and carried to the stake. Feeling is not 
 under man's control, and therefore they have allowed 
 each other to escape from profession upon that sub- 
 ject, at the same time taking advantage of the nerves 
 for the infliction of as much pain as man could reason- 
 ably devise. 
 
 Speech is still, and properly enough, made a matter 
 of superintendence. A man may injure another by his 
 speech, and consequently speech does come within the 
 limits of politics. Immense changes, however, have 
 taken place in the laws that relate to the expression 
 of thought, more especially on political subjects. 
 Freedom of speech, and of public speech, and in any 
 number of speakers or auditors, is one of the first es- 
 sentials of true liberty. 
 
 Freedom of discussion is the great turning-point of 
 liberty, the first great field of battle between the na- 
 tion and the rulers. If the nation gain the day, its 
 progress is onward towards freedom ; but if the rulers 
 gain the day, the nation must submit to tyranny, and 
 must groan under the licentious hand of a self-con- 
 stituted government. So soon as freedom of speech 
 is prevented, no other resource than revolution can 
 possibly remain, and the men who might not speak 
 with tongues must have recourse to weapons of more 
 powerful argument. Where there is freedom of dis- 
 cussion, there is always hope for the nation. The gov- 
 ernment may enforce its privileges for a time; but so 
 
 10 
 
certainly as freedom of discussion is preserved, so cer- 
 tainly must those privileges be curtailed, one after 
 another, and freedom of action must eventually com- 
 plete the evolution. 
 
 Writing and publication are as essential as speech. 
 The censorship is an abomination altogether incom- 
 patible with freedom. 
 
 England has almost achieved her emancipation in 
 the matter of thought, speech, and writing; but very 
 considerable changes still remain to be effected before 
 liberty of action can be said to be achieved. There 
 are actions which are naturally crimes, and which 
 never can be anything else than crimes — robbery and 
 murder, for instance. Such actions are criminal an- 
 terior to all legislation, and independently of any 
 human enactment whatever. They are unjust from 
 their nature, and we can predicate, a priori, that they 
 are unjust, as well as prove, a posteriori, by their ef- 
 fects that they are eminently prejudicial. 
 
 Such actions, and such actions alone, is the govern- 
 ment of a country competent to prohibit, and to class 
 as crimes. But let us observe what takes place in 
 actual legislation. No action can be less criminal 
 than the purchase of the productions of one country, 
 and the transport of those productions to another 
 country, for the legitimate profit of the trader and the 
 convenience of the inhabitants. The government, how- 
 ever, passes a law that such transport shall not be al- 
 lowed, and that the man who still persists in it shall be 
 called a criminal, and treated as such. The govern- 
 ment thus creates a new crime, and establishes an ar- 
 tificial standard of miorality, one of the most pernicious 
 things for a community than can possibly exist, as it 
 leads men to conclude that acts are wrong only be- 
 cause they are forbidden, and also enlists in favor of 
 
 11 
 
the offender those feelings which ought ever to be re- 
 tained in favor of the law. 
 
 The restriction would be a crime if it were only a 
 restriction, and prevented the international exchange 
 of produce. But what are its effects? It calls into 
 existence a set of men who devote themselves by pro- 
 fession to infringe the law. The act of transport is 
 perfectly innocent and highly beneficial ; but so soon 
 as it is prohibited by law, the man who engages in it 
 is obliged to use the arts of deception and concealment, 
 and from one step of small depravity to another, sinks 
 lower and lower, until at lasts he employs violence, 
 and does not hesitate to murder. The act of transport 
 in which the smuggler is engaged is one of the most 
 legitimate modes of exercising the human powers. 
 Every kind of advantage attends it. First, it is profit- 
 able to the foreign seller. Second, it is profitable to 
 the merchant. Third, it is profitable to the carrier. 
 Fourth, it is profitable to the home consumer; for if 
 the goods were not more highly esteemed by him than 
 the money, he w^ould not purchase them at the price. 
 And fifth, it is injurious to no one. The first three 
 profits are money profits ; the fourth, a profit of con- 
 venience and gratification. But the moral effects are 
 no less beneficial. First, the man who is engaged in 
 lawful trading is well employed, and likely to be a 
 peaceful and good citizen. Second, the fact of pur- 
 chasing from a foreigner gives the trader an Interest 
 in that foreigner, and eminently tends to break down 
 those national antipathies which have descended from 
 the darker ages. The buyer and the seller are a step 
 further from war every bargain they conclude in hon- 
 est dealing; and the iniquitous doctrine, that a 
 " Frenchman Is the natural enemy of an Englishman," 
 must every day find its practical refutation in the sub- 
 
 12 
 
stantial benefite of track. First, then, the prohibitory 
 law sacrifices all those benefits, and the law of restric- 
 tion diminishes them to the full extent of its restriction. 
 But what takes place? The contraband trader is 
 created by the prospect of gain arising from the in- 
 crease of price. The increase of price, instead of be- 
 ing a benefit to the legal trader, is his curse. It is 
 neither more nor less than a premium held out to the 
 smuggler to evade the custom and to undersell the legal 
 trader, thereby tending constantly to reduce his profit, 
 as well as to diminish his sale. But this is not all. It 
 is a premium to the reckless to break the law ; and the 
 man who lives in the habitual breach of the law soon 
 becomes a ruined character and a ruined man. 
 
 There are, perhaps, few courses of life that end so 
 certainly in ruin as the smuggler's and the poacher's; 
 and yet, barring the law, the acts in which they are en- 
 gaged are perfectly innocent and perfectly legitimate. 
 The man who takes to smuggling or to poaching as 
 the means of gaining his bread, is almost as certainly 
 beyond recovery as the drunkard or the thief. It has 
 been our lot to see some of these characters, and to ob- 
 serve the influence of their pursuits, and we can say 
 no otherwise than that we have been shocked to see 
 men of energy and great natural endowment destroyed 
 by the temptations which the law had so superfluously 
 placed in their way. When once the habit of breaking 
 the law is established, the distinction is overlooked that 
 would not otherwise have been forgotten, namely, that 
 there is a right and a wrong independently of the law ; 
 and the man who commenced by shooting a hare in his 
 cabbage-plot finishes by shooting a keeper, and expiat- 
 ing the off^ence on the gallows. 
 
 We do not mean that a man has a right to shoot 
 everywhere and anywhere, but we mean that the act of 
 
 13 
 
shooting the game, the legal crime, is not a crime, and 
 never can be such; and that the consequences are in a 
 great measure the fruits of the law, and must be 
 charged against it. 
 
 Let us take another case. The Creator, in his 
 bounty, has distributed rivers over our country; and 
 the rivers of Scotland, at a certain season, teem (or 
 did teem till the sea nets were established) with abun- 
 dance of food in the shape of salmon, which are thus 
 brought, as it were, to the very door of the inhabitants. 
 The uncultivated moors of the same district abound 
 with wild birds, to an extent perhaps unequalled in the 
 world. It might be supposed reasonable that these 
 gifts of Providence should be of some service to the 
 stated inhabitants who labor; and as corn land is not 
 so plentiful in the north as in the south. Providence ap- 
 pears to have thrown the salmon and the grouse into 
 the scale to furnish the necessary food for man. But 
 what has the law done? To shoot a grouse is not 
 merely a trespass on the occupier of the land, but a 
 crime, a criminal act, a thing that must be punished, 
 a deed for which the half-starved Highlander can be 
 haled to prison, and shut up as an offender against 
 the laws of his country, when that country had reduced 
 him to the verge of starvation. And to spear a sal- 
 mon, a fish from the sea that no man may ever have 
 seen, and cannot possibly recognize, is also attended 
 with pains and penalties for killing the fish that 
 Heaven had sent for food. 
 
 Let us consider that Providence has made some ani- 
 mals susceptible of domestication. A man takes the 
 trouble of rearing a lamb or a bullock; and by every 
 principle of equity they are his — at least he has the 
 claim of preference, which no other man has a right 
 to invade. Were any man to take this sheep or ox 
 
 U 
 
for his own use, we see at once the impropriety of the 
 action. First, it is an interference with another man 
 without a justifying reason ; and second, were such in- 
 terference allowed generally, the domestication of ani- 
 mals would cease, and food would become so much the 
 less abundant. 
 
 In this case there Is a breach of equity involved, 
 and the taking is a crime. But, on the other hand. 
 Providence has made other animals incapable of domes- 
 tication, and distributed them over the country, ap- 
 parently for the very purpose of affording food, and 
 this is in the very districts that are not so highly fav- 
 ored with the cereal productions of the soil. Such, 
 in Scotland, are the salmon and the grouse; and these, 
 at one period, were so abundant as to afford a staple 
 article of food, and even now are sufficiently numerous 
 to feed a large portion of the population from August 
 to December. And what has the law done with regard 
 to these bountiful gifts of Providence? The law has 
 made it a crime for the poor man to touch them. The 
 poor man now can never legally have either a salmon 
 or a grouse ; and in the very parishes where those ani- 
 mals are suffi^ciently numerous to feed the whole resi- 
 dent pauper population, the poor may take their 
 choice between starvation and expatriation. 
 
 Now, in the case of the animals that are not capa- 
 ble of domestication, there is an important distinction 
 to be observed. To shoot one of these animals is not 
 a breach of equity — that is, the wild one is no man's 
 property, while the domesticated one must practically 
 be regarded as such ; and therefore, as the wild ani- 
 mals could not be regarded as property — for property 
 must be recognizable — the law has made it a crime for 
 the poor man to take them for his use. And the privi- 
 leged classes, not content with all the land, and nearly 
 
 15 
 
all the offices of the state, have usurped the fowls of 
 the air, and the fish of the sea, that never owned a 
 master save the Lord of heaven and earth. 
 
 It may be considered that the question is of no 
 great importance; neither perhaps is it, 'compared 
 with the weightier question of the land; but we have 
 taken it as an illustration of the principle of legisla- 
 tion as regards action. As regards action England 
 is not a free country, and the sooner the nation is con- 
 vinced of the fact, the better for the community. And 
 by free country, we mean a country in which every 
 man has a legal right to do everything that is not 
 naturally a crime. Where a man can do what is a 
 crime, freedom is no more. But the law may be the 
 criminal as well as the nation; and injustice from the 
 law is quite as unjust, and ten times more detrimental, 
 than injustice from the individual. 
 
 With regard to the crime, the real criminality of 
 the action, measured either by reason or by Scripture, 
 and with regard to the detriment, measured by the 
 consequences, let us ask the following question, and let 
 any man answer it on his conscience: — Here are ani- 
 mals provided by nature in abundance — they cannot 
 follow even the laws of property established in all 
 analogous cases, inasmuch as they are not recogniza- 
 ble, and cannot be claimed as ever having been in pos- 
 session. These animals are distributed widely, and 
 spread throughout the country in a manner to afford 
 a convenient supply to the various districts. The fish 
 arrive from the sea in their highest condition, and af- 
 ford good and wholesome food. The birds are of the 
 poultry kind, distinguished for the quality and quan- 
 tity of their flesh, and for their powers of reproduc- 
 tion, — characters that have always drawn a line of 
 demarcation between them and the birds of prey, and 
 
 16 
 
pointed them out for food. These animals are dis- 
 tributed by nature throughout the habitable districts 
 where cultivation must be limited, and where animal 
 food must be required, both from the scarcity of corn 
 and from the nature of the climate. Such, at least, is 
 the judgment of Providence, as manifested in the works 
 of creation, and in the harmony which is everywhere 
 perceptible between the productions of a region and 
 their suitability to man. These districts (from the 
 monopoly of the land) are now inhabited by a race 
 reduced to the lowest state of poverty, and in many 
 cases to a degradation that would class them with the 
 savages. Let us ask, which is the crime.? That these 
 people should take the animals which nature has pro- 
 vided, or that the privileged classes of the country 
 should pass a law to prevent their touching a single 
 one of them, under the pain of fine and imprisonment.? 
 And be it remarked, these animals are not property, 
 even by the wording of the enactment, which does not 
 punish for interference with property, but for inter- 
 ference with animals, which the privileged classes wish 
 to monopolize for other purposes. Hundreds of tons 
 of fish, and thousands of boxes of birds, are annually 
 taken away for sale from these districts, and yet not 
 one of the poor of the inhabitants may touch a feather, 
 nor finger a scale, without being guilty of a crime; 
 and from one year's end to the other, the mass of the 
 population have not the legal right to take one single 
 meal from a bird without danger of imprisonment, nor 
 from a fish without danger of a fine. Is it a crime, 
 or is it not, that the privileged classes should pass 
 such a law? And is it a crime, or is it not, that the 
 nation should allow such laws, and such privileged 
 classes, to continue? 
 
 Again, the manufacturers of certain articles, who 
 
 17 
 
are certainly not guilty of crime, or even of the shadow 
 of offence, are not allowed to carry on the neces- 
 sary operations except under the lock and key of the 
 state officials ; and the regulations are of so stringent 
 a character, that if they were not partially relaxed by 
 the excisemen, the business could scarcely be carried 
 on without incurring penalties from the law. 
 
 The soap manufacturer is certainly engaged in the 
 production of an article that benefits the community; 
 and even the distiller (for whom as much cannot be 
 said) is entitled to carry on his business on the same 
 footing as every other man. The legislators make a 
 pretext of revenue ; and revenue of course is necessary, 
 although not to the extent to which revenue is raised 
 in Britain. But when the necessity of revenue is 
 granted, is it at all necessary that the man who is en- 
 gaged in the lawful manufacture of an article required 
 by the community, should be obliged to give notice to 
 a state official that he is about to perform this, that, 
 and the other process of his manufacture, and be es- 
 teemed a criminal worthy of punishment if that notice 
 is forgotten or neglected? 
 
 All these restrictions are the remnants of the more 
 exclusive privileges claimed and enforced by the privi- 
 leged classes of other times, and the remnants of that 
 political superstition which, next to religious super- 
 stition, every man ought to lend his aid to destroy. 
 
 The pretext that revenue is necessary, is one that 
 would scarcely be entitled to attention, were it not ac- 
 companied by the injustice and detriment that follow 
 in its train. Revenue, so far as necessary for the ac- 
 tual requirements of a state, need form a very trifling 
 portion of a nation's expenditure. The whole cost of 
 the administration of justice, and of every other valu- 
 able service that the state really requires, is a mere 
 
 18 
 
trifle in comparison to the actual revenue, and to the 
 still greater cost occasioned by the enactments of the 
 legislature. But as revenue may be derived from two 
 sources, the privileged classes have taken care that it 
 shall be derived from that source In which they are 
 not so immediately interested. 
 
 We have spoken of the liberty of human actions; 
 and one of the forms of that action is labor. The ma- 
 terial objects of the creation possess a value of ex- 
 change; that is, people are willing to pay for them. 
 But labor also possesses a value of exchange, and 
 people are willing to pay for it as well as for the 
 material objects that constitute the globe and its In- 
 habitants. Let It be observed that labor Is essentially 
 private property. It has a value, and the land has 
 no more than a value. 
 
 Let it also be observed that the land Is not essentially 
 private property, and that naturally one man has as 
 much right to the land as another. 
 
 Labor on the one hand, and land on the other, are 
 susceptible of taxation. 
 
 The privileged classes, In the earlier stages of so- 
 ciety, had all the land and all the labor. The lord 
 was the lord not only of the land, but of the labor of 
 those who were engaged in the useful arts of Industry. 
 In the course of time the serfs obtained a small por- 
 tion of their rights, and towns were formed where the 
 citizens could carry on their labor with a certain de- 
 gree of advantage to themselves, and with a certain 
 degree of emancipation from the licentious will of the 
 lord. Taxation could consequently be on the land of 
 the lord, or on the labor of the townsman, for all the 
 townsman's capital was originally the produce of his 
 labor. 
 
 Let it be observed, that when the land Is taxed, no 
 
 19 
 
man is taxed; for the land produces, according to the 
 law of the Creator, more than the value of the labor 
 expended on it, and on this account men are willing 
 to pay a rent for land. But when the privileged 
 classes had monopolized the land, they called it theirs 
 in the same seiise in which labor is supposed to belong 
 to the laborer; and, although the absurdity of the 
 proposition is sufficiently apparent, the laborer was 
 glad enough to escape with even a small portion of his 
 liberty, and to rejoice that he could call his life and 
 his family his own. 
 
 But then the lords of the land were the rulers and 
 the makers of the laws, and the imposers of taxation, 
 and it was not reasonable to suppose that they should 
 tax the land. The king required money, and various 
 persons about kings in all ages require money, and of 
 course the only choice in the matter of taxation is be- 
 tween labor and the land. 
 
 To tax labor, then, becomes a matter of the most 
 palpable necessity, and those who have been divested 
 of almost every single particle of earth or sea that 
 could be of any benefit to them, must also be made to 
 bear the burdens of the state, and to pay for the sup- 
 port of a government that was of little use to the com- 
 munity, and that only existed by the right of the 
 strongest, or the consent of superstition.* 
 
 The principle of taxing labor is only a remnant of 
 the serfdom of the darker ages, and it has been con- 
 tinued in this country by the ingenious device of what 
 
 * A bad government is of no use to the community immedi- 
 ately, but mediately and prospectively the most stringent des- 
 potism in the world is of the highest importance and of the 
 greatest value. Man must apparently progress through cen- 
 tralization; and a bad government, provided it centralizes, is the 
 foundation of after changes most beneficial to mankind. The 
 
 20 
 
are termed indirect taxes, by which labor is taxed, al- 
 though the laborer is only made acquainted with the 
 fact by the distress that periodically oppresses him. 
 
 The man who is poisoned without his knowledge 
 does not die the less certainly for his ignorance, and 
 the people who are taxed do not suffer the less because 
 the taxes happen to be imposed in such a manner that 
 the unthinking and the ignorant do not perceive those 
 taxes in the price they pay for almost every article of 
 consumption. All the real harm is done to a country 
 as effectually by indirect taxation, as if every penny 
 were paid out of the day's wages to the tax-gatherer 
 of the state. But the rulers know full well that if the 
 tax-gatherer were to present himself at the pay-table 
 of the laborer, at the counter of the shopman, at the 
 office of the merchant, and at the ship of the seafaring 
 carrier, the doom of labor taxation would be sealed, 
 and the country would not tolerate so glaring an in- 
 justice. And the indirect system of taxation is em- 
 ployed, not that it prevents the conimunity from suf- 
 fering, but that it prevents the community from dwell- 
 ing on the cause of their suffering, and thereby retards 
 a revolution against the privileged classes. 
 
 Such are the circumstances that have led to the es- 
 tablishment of customs and excise; and the total and 
 complete abolition of those two branches of interfer- 
 ence is one of the necessary changes that must take 
 place before this country can be free and before this 
 
 good part of the Russian government is its centralization. In 
 the general history of man, it seems requisite that central mon- 
 archy should destroy the privileges of multiple aristocracy; and 
 Russia is gradually effecting this great change. The sympathy 
 manifested towards the Poles is questionable, inasmuch as the 
 great majority of Poles were ruled by individual aristocrats 
 instead of by laws. 
 
 21 
 
country can enjoy that commercial liberty, without 
 which a periodical crisis must necessarily be the lot of 
 the laborer, the merchants and the manufacturer. It 
 is true that the total abolition of the customs appears 
 chimerical at present; yet, if we consider the history 
 of the changes that have already taken place, and seize 
 their abstract form (the only form that contains real 
 instruction), we have sufficient ground to hope, not 
 only for the abolition of every species of tax upon 
 labor, but for the recovery of each man's natural 
 property. So certainly as this country continues to 
 progress, so certainly must every restraint be removed 
 from every action that is not a crime; and the cus- 
 toms' laws can no more be perpetuated, if the present 
 liberty of discussion continues, than restraints upon 
 discussion could be perpetuated after men had learnt 
 to think for themselves, and to form their convictions 
 according to the evidence before them. 
 
 The Protestant creed introduced a very important 
 change in the credence of the country in the matter 
 of religion. 
 
 The Romanists always professed to slaughter men 
 to the glory of God. The Protestants, on the con- 
 trary, abandoned the high ground of sacrifice to the 
 Deity, and substituted the more rational idea of sac- 
 rifice to the King. The unfortunate Covenanter, who 
 was shot or decapitated, was not an offering to the 
 Deity, but an offering to the King; and the difference 
 was of immense importance to the country, although 
 of no particular consequence to the Covenanter. So 
 soon as legislation for men's thoughts was conceived 
 to be for man, and not for God, men began to inquire 
 whether, after all, the King had really the right to 
 legislate to such an extent. And as knowledge in- 
 creased, they began to relax their principles a little, 
 
 22 
 
and to think that the deprivation of civil privileges, 
 would be punishment sufficient for the offence of think- 
 ing differently from the sect in power. 
 
 The modification still goes on, and measure after 
 measure is abolished, until at last the professors of dif- 
 ferent creeds almost begin to think that they can in- 
 habit the same country without persecuting each other 
 on account of their religion. 
 
 The last remnant of this religious superstition that 
 once played so prominent a part in Britain, Is now to 
 be found in the taxation of nonconformists ; and the 
 church-rates and the official distinction between the 
 various sects are the last representatives of that sys- 
 tem of legislation that lit the fires of Smithfield, and 
 sent Claverhouse and his dragoons to murder the hill- 
 side peasant and to torture the differently thinking 
 Presbyterian. 
 
 But what is the principle that has so modified the 
 laws of Britain? Whence comes it that men should 
 have so singularly changed their opinions in the course 
 of a century or two? 
 
 It is perfectly evident that justice does not vary 
 from age to age. Justice is the same from the be- 
 ginning of world to the time that man shall change 
 his constitution. 
 
 An act of justice can no more alter its character 
 than the diameter of the circle can alter its relation 
 to the circumference. What was just yesterday is 
 just to-day, was just a thousand years ago, and will 
 be just a thousand years to come. 
 
 How then does it happen that so strange a modi- 
 fication should have come over the credence of our race, 
 and how does it happen that men should legislate so 
 differently. 
 
 The credence has changed with the acquisition of 
 
knowledge, and the legislation has changed with the 
 credence. 
 
 Men have discovered that legislators have no right 
 to legislate for credences, and thus the last remnants 
 of such legislation are obliged to appear under an- 
 other name, and to assume a false guise that they 
 may be allowed to continue a few years longer. 
 
 For the man animal, food is the first necessity; but 
 for the man mental, credence according to evidence is 
 the first correct law of his intellectual nature. Food 
 is one of the conditions of existence; and, until it can 
 be procured in tolerable quantity, and with some de- 
 gree of certainty, a community cares little about the 
 mind, and allows the question of free thought to re- 
 main in abeyance. 
 
 When a community begins to emerge from barbar- 
 ism, and legislation assumes a definite form, everything 
 is legislated for. Food, thought, speech, action, prop- 
 erty, in all their various forms, are all made sub- 
 ject of enactment; and men thus endeavor to improve 
 the world that God made, by passing laws to amend 
 the order of nature. The first necessity for the com- 
 munity is to have some small opportunity of procuring 
 food, and when the necessary conditions are obtained 
 (which involve some degree of liberty), men turn 
 their attention to other subjects, according to the 
 character of their theological belief. The religious im- 
 pulses of our nature require satisfaction, perhaps, be- 
 fore any other portion of the mental constitution ; and 
 as men must have some kind of theological credence, 
 right or wrong, they believe anything rather than re- 
 main in doubt. And as, where there is no evidence, 
 there can be no truth and no error, but mere arbitrary 
 superstition, the state has generally established some 
 form of credence by law, and committed the care of 
 
 24 
 
the superstition to the priests. But there does happen 
 to be a true religion as well as an indefinite number of 
 superstitions; and, after the revival of learning, when 
 the truth began to break on men's minds, that religion 
 was not a matter of mere arbitrary church authority, 
 but a real matter of truth and falsehood, in which life 
 and death were involved, the Christianity of the Bible 
 came into collision with the established superstitions 
 of the Papal priesthood, and a struggle was commenced 
 which began by the maximum of persecution, and 
 ended, in this country at least, in the maximum of 
 liberty of thought. 
 
 It must not be supposed, however, that a country 
 is in the same circumstances before a law has been 
 called into existance, and after its abolition. Before 
 the law is enacted men are naturally free, but when the 
 law has been abolished men are legally free. A country, 
 arrived at complete freedom after the various trans- 
 formations of superstition and injustice, is a very 
 different thing from a country where legislation has 
 only commenced. The actual laws that exist in both 
 cases might perhaps be the same; but in the one case 
 they are the stepping-stones to an indefinite series of 
 legislative acts, and in the other case they are the per- 
 manent records of a nation's final judgment. England, 
 before men legislated for thoughts, and England after 
 men have legislated for thoughts, and abolished such 
 legislation, is in very different circumstances; inas- 
 much as it may now be reckoned a matter of ascer- 
 tained truth, that legislation for matters of belief is 
 pre-eminently prejudicial, as well as unjust. And the 
 probability of new legislation on the subject can 
 scarcely be contemplated. 
 
 Where rulers govern by power, and not by the en- 
 lightened choice of the nation, they are a party op- 
 
 25 
 
posed to the nation. On the one hand is the nation 
 and the national interest; on the other hand is the 
 government and the interest of the individuals con- 
 nected with it. The more powers the rulers have, the 
 less liberty the people have; and the more land and 
 privilege the rulers have, the less wealth have the popu- 
 lation. Now wealth and power are exactly what men 
 are desirous of possessing; and as rulers are men, it 
 is not to be wondered at that they dip their fingers 
 into every man's dish, equitably or unequitably, and 
 monopolize the best things that happen to be going. 
 The land, of course, either in kind or in some other 
 form, falls to the lot of the rulers and their coadjutors 
 — the nobles and the priests. The cultivation of the 
 land (the labor), instead of also falling to the lot of 
 the privileged classes, becomes the portion of the 
 people. 
 
 But excessive privileges are much easier maintained 
 against a weak people than against a strong one ; and 
 as the people can only be strong by knowledge, virtue, 
 and combination — knowledge, virtue, and combination 
 are in little favor with despotic governments. 
 
 Political knowledge (that is, a knowledge of their 
 rights and interests) is carefully excluded from the 
 mass of the population ; and as political knowledge 
 grows out of discussion about social welfare, as well as 
 out of the thoughtful toil of the author, both discus- 
 sion and authorship are subjected to partial or total 
 prohibiten. The most frantic blasphemies will find a 
 readier license for publication than a sober treatise 
 on the public welfare; and a philosophical denial of 
 all right and wrong whatever, will be more tolerable 
 than an inquiry into the foundations of the rulers' 
 privileges. The most infamously immoral production 
 is less likely to be scrutinized than a dissertation on 
 
 26 
 
political economy; and an association for murdering, 
 torturing, and expatriating the population, would be 
 more readily authorized than an association for for- 
 warding the rights of the people. 
 
 Anything in the shape of superstition (that is, unin- 
 qulrlng credence) Is esteemed proper enough; but the 
 moment men begin to Inquire and to seek reasons, that 
 moment the government Is alarmed, and that moment 
 must means be put In operation to stop the course of 
 knowledge. 
 
 The government must either give up its privileges, 
 or keep the people in slavery with regard to expression 
 of opinion ; and the stringent laws of the continental 
 powers, relative to every kind of political meeting, are 
 no more than measures of precaution, analogous to 
 those practised by the pirate who scuttles his prize 
 (with Its crew) as a measure conducing to his safety.* 
 
 The objects of a despotic government must neces- 
 sarily be distinguished from Its means. The objects 
 are wealth and power; the means, tyranny and super- 
 stition. Tyranny Is power without right, and super- 
 stition Is credence without evidence. The governor 
 of a country. In the earlier stage of legislation. 
 Is the strongest man In the country; and, by conver- 
 sion, the strongest man in the country Is the governor. 
 Now, one strongest man, who has the opportunity of 
 taking a thousand weaker men In detail. Is stronger 
 
 * The pirate is rationally correct ; that is, his act does conduce 
 to his immediate safety, for dead men tell no tales, and sunk 
 ships cannot appear in evidence. And despotic governors are 
 also rationally correct; that is, an ignorant and superstitious 
 population has less power and less desire for liberty than a 
 population that thinks for itself, and has free opportunity of 
 expression. The remote consequences, however, are sometimes 
 overlooked. When the truth is discovered, the pirate is hanged, 
 and the ruler guillotined. 
 
 27 
 
than the whole thousand if he can prevent them from 
 combining. This is the concise explanation of the 
 theory of a despotic government. A noble, a chief, 
 even a bishop, may become a sovereign, and remain so 
 as long as he has power or dexterity to prevent the 
 people from combining. As soon as they combine he 
 is no longer the strongest, and his wealth as well as 
 his power is in a fair way to depart. It therefore 
 becomes a matter of serious consideration for him to 
 discover and put in practice those means that tend to 
 secure his power, and prevent his enemies (his sub- 
 jects) from combining. 
 
 In the first place, he must have more wealth; and, 
 as he cannot have it by his own honest industry he 
 must have it by the industry of others, or by the mo- 
 nopoly of those natural objects which other men must 
 possess as the conditions of their existence. 
 
 Land is the great source of wealth; forests and 
 fisheries are also tolerable; mines and minerals are 
 capable of yielding a revenue; and, in addition to 
 these, comes the taxation of labor. 
 
 These sources of wealth, therefore, must be turned 
 to account, and the governor of course does not neglect 
 them. Wealth is power for the ruler, as knowledge is 
 power for the people; and the more wealth the ruler 
 has, the more power has he for taking advantage of 
 his subjects. Wealth, therefore, is both a means and 
 an end, — a means of getting more wealth and of get- 
 ting more power. Wealth gives birth to a standing 
 army, and a standing army gives birth to more 
 power, as it enables the ruler to apply his principles 
 more extensively and with greater security. 
 
 But if a people were to combine against any stand- 
 ing army that is likely to exist, the ruler would no 
 longer be a ruler, and the army would no longer be an 
 
 28 
 
army. It therefore becomes a matter of serious 
 thought for the ruler to obviate the tendencies towards 
 combination. 
 
 There are two or three kinds of combination. 
 
 The combination of national antipathy, which may 
 exist where there is abundance of ignorance. Also 
 religious combination, which by no means advances 
 freedom as a matter of necessity. The Crusades* ex- 
 hibited this kind of combination ; also the union of the 
 Presbyterians of Scotland, and the puritans of Eng- 
 land. They had hold of the truth, and, though they 
 had scarcely yet learnt to view it in its true light, they 
 progressed immensely towards freedom. They did 
 confound civil and religious liberty ; but notwithstand- 
 ing, it is to them, under God, that we owe the preser- 
 vation of the cause of liberty in this country. 
 
 A third kind of combination is for the purpose of 
 overthrowing an evil that presses on the feelings, 
 thoughts and interests of men. This combination is 
 a mere reaction against pressure. 
 
 But there is another kind of combination, and a 
 far more important one for the welfare of the world: 
 the combination of knowledge and reason. Knowledge 
 
 * Absurd as the Crusades were in themselves, they were of 
 the highest value to Europe; in fact it seems that whatever the 
 temporary evils attendant on any human condition, that condi- 
 tion was a phase of progress, calculated to leave society in a 
 better state than it found it. This principle is applicable also 
 to the first French Revolution. It was a fearful scene when 
 viewed individually But if we look to the condition of France 
 before the revolution, and again after the revolution, we cannot 
 deny that its effects were of the greatest value to the country. 
 Those who attend merely to the revolution and its horrors, are 
 like those who go to see a criminal executed without asking the 
 reason of his execution, or inquiring into the reasonableness of 
 the laws which demand his execution. The French Revolution 
 was produced by the laws of nature. Who made those laws? 
 
 29 
 
IS credence based on sufficient evidence; and reason is 
 the power of perceiving consequences, and inferring 
 antecedents. Without reason man would only be a 
 higher kind of ape; as it is, he is a spirit and an 
 immortal. 
 
 Man has an intellect as well as a bodily frafne, and 
 this intellect has its laws and its requirements. Ob- 
 servation is its food, reason is its process of digestion, 
 and truth is its circulating fluid, without which it 
 degenerates and dies. Truth makes the mind strong, 
 ignorance makes It weak, and error infects it with 
 disease. Knowledge is not only power, it is strength 
 — strength of the mind, health, and life. To obliterate 
 this strength, therefore, is the object of the despotic 
 ruler. If the people are strong, the despot must be 
 weak; but the legitimate ruler Is so much the stronger 
 as the people are stronger. When the rulers and the 
 nation are In opposite scales, the less weight the people 
 have, the more easily are they outweighed; but when 
 both are in the same scales, the heavier they both are 
 the better for both, and the worse for those who are 
 opposed to them. In a free country, where law was 
 absolutely supreme and really equitable, every man 
 would feel the ruler to be a portion of himself, and 
 would lend his arm or his aid to further the ends of 
 justice. 
 
 In a despotism, superstition takes the place of 
 knowledge, and the fear of suffering helps to procure 
 an unwilling obedience. 
 
 The ruler Is the wolf, the people are the flock, and 
 the lawyers and priests are the foxes who prepare the 
 flock for slaughter. 
 
 When the priesthood lose their influence, an army 
 must be resorted to, and physical tyranny and central- 
 ization must do the work of superstition. At all 
 
 30 
 
hazards, the people must be kept down, or the game of 
 despotism is lost. 
 
 Mere superstition, however, is insufficient to enslave 
 a people that has commercial intercourse with other 
 nations. So long as the country can be surrounded 
 with a barrier, and free communication prevented, 
 superstition may do its work tolerably well, and a 
 nation may remain in much the same state for an 
 indefinite period.* When, for a thousand years, the 
 sun rises every day upon similar conditions, it is by 
 no means wonderful that change should not take place. 
 In the political as well as the physical world, the con- 
 ditions must be changed before we can look for a 
 change in the phenomena. Change the conditions, 
 and some change or other will be exhibited in the con- 
 sequent results. For those who have the land and the 
 privilege, every change is dangerous ; and the invari- 
 able tendency of the privileged classes to oppose 
 change is only a prudent exercise of foresight. 
 
 One of the most important changes in the condition 
 of a people is free intercourse with strangers. Inter- 
 change of thought and opinion takes place, informa- 
 tion is given and received, new arts are learnt and 
 communicated, and something analogous to a chem- 
 ical effervescence takes place between the two people, 
 
 * We have only to look at Spain to see how effectually super- 
 stition eradicates even an aspiration after freedom. Let it be 
 remembered that a few centuries since Spain was second to no 
 country in Europe in the extent of her political power. What 
 is she now, and what has superstition made her? "The masses 
 care no more for a constitution than the Berber or Oriental; 
 with them this thing of parchment is no reality, but a mere 
 abstraction, which they neither understand nor estimate. The 
 people do not want their laws to be changed, but to have them 
 fairly administered. Their only idea of government is despot- 
 ism." — Ford's Spain, p. 862. 
 
 SI 
 
who are thus mutually excited to a state of social 
 ferment. But not only are nations stimulated by 
 intercourse with others ; it appears to be a law of ani- 
 mal development, that the mixture of races produces 
 a higher and a better type than either of the originals, 
 and the finest races are those in whose elements the 
 original types have almost disappeared. Races of 
 men may, at the same time, be so mingled as to pro- 
 duce a lower type, and this law also extends to the 
 lower animals ; but while two races, already low, may 
 be injudiciously crossed, to the detriment of the pro- 
 geny, there seems little reason for doubt that the 
 intermixture of national blood, where the races are of 
 a higher character, is conducive to the physical per- 
 fection of mankind. The races of western Europe^ 
 that now take the pre-eminence in the world, are com- 
 plex, and the result of many amalgamations, The 
 south of Britain, especially, which produces men prob- 
 ably inferior to none on the whole surface of the globe, 
 is peopled by a race resulting from many tribes who 
 successively invaded the shores, and left a greater or 
 less impress on the character of the inhabitants. The 
 Spaniard and the Frenchman are also the results of 
 mixed blood ; and, though the kingdom of Spain has 
 sunk into insignificance from the effects of supersti- 
 tion and tyranny, the Spaniard is a high type of the 
 human species, and only wants truth and freedom to 
 enable him to play a distinguished part in the desti- 
 nies of the world. When England and France were 
 as superstitious and as enslaved as Spain, Spain 
 was perhaps the most powerful kingdom in Europe: 
 but since Spain did not progress in freedom, she has 
 naturally sunk into every kind of licentiousness; and 
 the Spanish race, with all its immorality and reckless- 
 ness of bloodshed, is a living evidence of what kings 
 
 S2 
 
and priests can do with a nation, when the nation does 
 not destroy their influence in time. Had Spain estab- 
 lished freedom of thought, instead of torturing and 
 expatriating her industrious inhabitants, she might 
 now have been a second England, with wealth and 
 power beyond any other continental country. Free- 
 dom of thought is now evolving in Spain ; and if a 
 moderate tyranny could be established, to consolidate 
 the disjointed elements of the country, Spain might 
 still progress. But freedom of thought is now neces- 
 sary; and if any attempt be made to curtail it, the 
 progress of revolution may go on for years and years, 
 until worn out by anarchy, and the credences of the 
 rising generation running counter to the old supersti- 
 tions, some old adventurer may seize the reins of gov- 
 ernment, and exhibit Spain under an entirely new 
 aspect. That the present rulers will continue is almost 
 an impossibility. 
 
 Knowledge is credence based on sufficient evidence, 
 and reason is the power of perceiving consequences, 
 and of inferring antecedents. The combination of 
 knowledge and reason is the great moving power 
 destined to emancipate the world. It is the only 
 ground of hope for the unprivileged classes, but, at 
 the same time, it Is a sure ground of hope; and the 
 more rapidly knowledge Increases, the more rapidly 
 will its all-powerful influence be made apparent to the 
 world. Correct credence is absolutely essential to the 
 human race, before that race can know and work out 
 its own wellbeing. 
 
 The elements of this correct credence are, 1st, The 
 Bible. Sd, A correct view of the phenomena of mate- 
 rial nature. 3d, A correct philosophy of the mental 
 operations. 
 
 1st, The Bible. So far from the Bible being in 
 
 38 
 
opposition to the reason of mankind, it is the great 
 emancipator of the reason. 
 
 Independently of all considerations of a hereafter, 
 the Bible has an eminent effect in regulating the con- 
 ditions of men of this world. 
 
 The Bible strikes at the root of persecution, by re- 
 moving the false credence on which it is based ; it 
 sanctions no persecution, but teaches men that they 
 are made of -one flesh, and that they are personally 
 responsible to their Creator. 
 
 2d, A correct view of natural phenomena. In this 
 two things are implied: 1st, A knowledge of natural 
 phenomena (science) ; and, 2d, The attribution of 
 those phenomena to their true cause. If God be the 
 creator of the universe, God is also the physical gov- 
 ernor of the universe; and as such we must regard the 
 occuiTences of nature as the results of the laws estab- 
 lished by Him. And when once men shall really awake 
 to the conviction, that the social evils of the community 
 (poverty and want, with the accompaniments of crime, 
 ignorance and disease) arise from an infringement of 
 certain invariable laws, no more uncertain in their 
 nature than those which regulate the fall of a stone 
 or the motion of a planet, we may reasonably expect 
 that men will bend their eye on the phenomenon, en- 
 deavor to ascertain the conditions and forces that 
 result in good or evil, and thus to discover a natural 
 science of society that may open a new era in the his- 
 tory of civilization. Induction is no less applicable 
 to the phenomena of men than it is to the phenomena 
 of matter. 
 
 So long as man takes the fact in nature, and seeks 
 to assign a cause, he follows the true path; and that 
 path is abstractly correct, however absurd may be the 
 fancied explanation. 
 
 84 
 
An endless variety of phenomena are constantly 
 occurring around us, and these, by a law of our mental 
 constitution, are referred to causes. These causes 
 have ever played a most prominent part in the history 
 of mankind, and the fancy has ever thrown around 
 them that mysterious mantle of the imagination by 
 which they were clothed with personality. From 
 necessary forms of rational thought, they become 
 transfigured into conscious existences, that willed and 
 acted for themselves and produced the multifarious 
 phenomena of nature. The world was filled with half 
 material spirits, demons and demigods, fates, furies, 
 destinies, and all vague mythologies of mysterious 
 influences. 
 
 But it was reserved for the corruption of Chris- 
 tianity to throw the darkest shade. It is said that " the 
 shadow is nowhere so dark as immediately under the 
 lamp." Piety died away and theology took her place. 
 The wisdom that is from above Is not a creed, 
 but a principle of life imbued with truth; and when 
 the Church forgot the life, the truth vanished from 
 the symbol and left the dead remains of unspiritual 
 knowledge. The shadows were dark before, but now 
 was the night of degradation. Demons and devils 
 stared from out the ordinary phenomena of nature; 
 and the multitude of sorcerers who were immolated in 
 the Middle Ages, were as much the victims of nature 
 misinterpreted, as the martyr Christians were the 
 victims of a false theology.* 
 
 * Then, too, men fought because it was their trade. Patriot- 
 ism, that most pure and most holy of all man's natural senti- 
 ments, was disbanded save with the peasant cultivators of the 
 soil, who still could fight for their homes like the tiger for his 
 lair. A country where there is no patriotism is not safe for a 
 day. Patriotism is a country's true strength; for where there 
 is no patriotism there is no bond of union. 
 
 35 
 
But day broke at last, and nature was emancipated 
 from the mystic folds of superstition. The great 
 turning-point of modern times was, when the doctrine 
 of constant repetition of similar phenomena in similar 
 conditions was substituted for the dread of unseen, and 
 too often malevolent, agency. 
 
 Man learned at last to bend his eye on the phenom- 
 enon, accurately to observe the conditions, and ac- 
 curately to measure the change. Physical truth was 
 the result of this operation, so simple, now we knoT^ it, 
 yet of such vast importance to the welfare of the world. 
 Superstition here received its blow of death; and, just 
 in proportion as the inductive philosophy (in physical 
 science) was received and cultivated, so was man eman- 
 cipated from the terrors of unseen agency, and the 
 phenomena of nature were fixed on a stable basis that 
 invited man constantly to further inquiry. 
 
 But what has become of the causes? 
 
 The causes were now no longer beings, but the laws 
 by which the one God carries on the government of 
 the material world. But has this view of nature a 
 direct bearing on the political condition of mankind? 
 No doubt of it whatever. Those who have advocated 
 the utilitarian theory are true benefactors to their 
 country; and, though we may take occasion to advert 
 to the cases in which that theory has been carried 
 altogether out of its legitimate province, we of course 
 accept it to its utmost extent in those matters that 
 come within its range. But what is the utilitarian 
 theory, and what is its connection with inductive 
 philosophy ? 
 
 Let us suppose men legislating on a theological prin- 
 ciple (no matter what), and carrying out their laws 
 by force. Let us suppose an inductive philosopher 
 beginning at the effects of these laws, carefully col- 
 
 36 
 
lecting the statistics of the things he can observe, and 
 arranging them into an exhibition of facts. Let us 
 suppose that these facts show the results of the legis- 
 lation to have been eminently detrimental to the great 
 body of the population. Suppose he publishes these 
 details. Of course those who legislate on a theological 
 principle care nothing about consequences ; for if the 
 principle be correct, the legislation is a duty at all 
 hazards. Now, what is to be done? Of course, if the 
 populace are not quite so certain about the principle 
 as the legislators are, they might begin to suspect a 
 mistake in the rulers' method of proceeding, and per- 
 haps they might weigh the statistics against the theol- 
 ogy, and give the preference to the former. This 
 is very likely. Now, what course have the rulers? 
 Either to abandon their legislation, or to expel the 
 philosopher, and prevent all further inquiries of the 
 kind. But suppose the inductive mode 'of judging of 
 legislative acts should happen to procure free course, 
 it is quite impossible that facts, mere facts, should not 
 tell on the country in the long run, and that reasonings 
 upon those facts should not spring up in every man's 
 mind, and cause him to throw all his weight into every 
 change in which he could see his own, and the interest 
 of his fellows involved. 
 
 But suppose a new light were to break upon the 
 nation. Suppose men should happen to reflect that 
 facts come from the operations of the laws of God, 
 and suppose the thought should strike them that God 
 is a benevolent and a just God — ^that he made a good 
 world, gave it good laws, and that social evils sprang 
 from man's injustice to his fellow, and from the wrong 
 way in which things have been divided. Suppose the 
 idea should go abroad that God is no respecter of per- 
 sons, but that perhaps the welfare of a peasant is of 
 
 37 
 
as much value in the eyes of Him who doeth all things 
 well, as the welfare of a king. Now, suppose to these 
 reflections were joined another or two, that God made 
 man's reason, and made man to hate pain and flee 
 from it; and also that man's nature obliges him to 
 live in society, and that societies may make mistakes, 
 as the child does who puts his finger into the flame, 
 and that the pain is to teach him to beware in future. 
 Were such notions to go abroad, it is perfectly evident 
 that the inductive philosophy, when it found out evils 
 and suff*ering attending legislative acts, would come 
 backed with the authority of Him who made the laws 
 of nature, and it would lead to the belief that the wel- 
 fare of the great masses of the population was never 
 sacrificed to procure the wealth of the few, without 
 God's displeasure being always made manifest in the 
 suff'ering that ensued. Not that this suff*ering was a 
 miraculous interference, but the result of the ordinary 
 laws which God has made for the government of the 
 world. 
 
 Suppose, however, one more principle should be 
 admitted, namely, that " that which is just is benefi- 
 cial, and for the good of the greatest number." Sup- 
 pose men should reflect that induction requires time 
 and knowledge before it can be brought to perfection, 
 and that God endowed man with an a priori principle 
 of justice, to enable him to steer clear of injuring his 
 fellow, even where the inductive evidence should not be 
 at hand. Suppose the results of this justice and of 
 this induction should happen to turn out always and 
 invariably coincident, and although pursuing diff^erent 
 paths to reach the same end, yet the end arrived at 
 never was diff^erent. 
 
 Were all this admitted, it is plain that the inductive 
 method of examining the condition of the country 
 
 38 
 
would have a most direct and most powerful influence 
 on the legislation of the country. Where suffering 
 was considered not the mere accident of chance, nor 
 the work of a malevolent spirit, but the voice of a just 
 and benevolent God telling men to amend the order of 
 society, and to return to those elementary principles 
 of justice that He had implanted in their mind — 
 surely we can see that the progress of this nation must 
 be very different from the progress of that nation 
 from which inductive philosophy was banished, and 
 where men legislated for themselves and pretended 
 to be legislating for God. 
 
 3d, A correct philosophy of the mental operations. 
 
 Whenever we approach what is termed metaphysical 
 philosophy, we feel that we approach a quagmire, over 
 which a dense mist seems to hold its perpetual habita- 
 tion. If we attempt to advance, two ultimate and 
 hitherto impassable objects present themselves to view. 
 On the one hand is the bottomless pit of scepticism, 
 and on the other is the commanding but inaccessible 
 height of absolute truth. 
 
 Between scepticism on the one hand, and the dog- 
 matism of unsupported faith on the other, philosophy 
 has slowly swayed backwards and forwards, leaving 
 man as little farther advanced in ontology as he was 
 five hundred, or a thousand, or two thousand years 
 since. 
 
 To suppose, however, that philosophy is the useless 
 jargon that some writers appear desirous of repre- 
 senting, because it has failed to solve the great prob- 
 lem, namely, " How can objective existence be ration- 
 ally substantiated?" is surely to look at history with 
 only one eye. 
 
 Grant that scepticism in philosophy is the ultimate 
 result of all investigation; let us only be consistent, 
 
 39 
 
and make that scepticism universal, and the bugbear 
 of scepticism disappears forever. Let us write a plus 
 or a minus, a sign positive or a sign negative, before 
 all our knowledge, and what difference can it possibly 
 make? — knowledge remains the same in all its relative 
 proportions ; and all that man has really ascertained 
 to be true, remains as permanently stable, and as 
 really capable of application, as if ten thousand syllo- 
 gisms had proven that knowledge was truth, and that 
 the axiomatic credence of mankind was really vera- 
 cious. Scepticism, whatever be its danger, is only 
 dangerous when partially applied. When one man 
 shall have demonstrated to another man his own exist- 
 ence (and the most sceptical of sceptics admits the 
 existence of the me) , it will then be time to substantiate 
 objective existence, by a process of proof that can 
 have no difficulties, when once the proof of the one me 
 is furnished to the other. If we will be sceptics, let 
 us be consistent; and let us write our sign negative, 
 not merely before objective knowledge, but before the 
 existence of that mey whose existence is absolutely as 
 incapable of every approach to rational proof as is 
 the existence of an external world. 
 
 When, however, we take the existence of the m^ for 
 granted, and then insist that other objective existence 
 should produce a proof of which it is incapable, our 
 scepticism is not only dangerous but fatal. Rational 
 proof there is none, either in the one case or the other ; 
 for the Tne is as really objective to all our conscious- 
 ness, as is matter or universal mind. We are conscious 
 of mental phenomena alone; and the me is as far re- 
 moved from immediate appreciation, as is any other 
 substantive existence that our race admits with perse- 
 vering universality. Let us only make scepticism 
 (philosophic scepticism), absolutely universal, and the 
 
 40 
 
foundations of real knowledge are laid anew, scepti- 
 cism being buried in a grave of its own digging. 
 
 For ourselves, we believe that scepticism may be 
 fairly met, and fairly vanquished by the most strict 
 rules of logic. Its stronghold is in the ambiguity of 
 terms, and in the use of terms which it has no logical 
 right to use. Scepticism says, " You have no proof 
 for the objective truth of your subjective convictions." 
 We deny the fact, and allege that an argument based 
 on the calculation of probabilities would establish, 
 beyond the smallest possibility of doubt, the objective 
 veracity of the subjective laws of reason. The mathe- 
 matical sciences are, every one of them, — ^namely, 
 arithmetic, algebra, geometry, and statics, purely 
 subjective; every one of their primary propositions 
 is an axiomatic truth taken for granted, self-evident, 
 incapable of question, purely abstract, and that does 
 not pronounce on the real existence of any concrete 
 reality whatever. Now how comes it, that when these 
 subjective sciences are applied to matter, an entity 
 with which they have nothing to do, they are invari- 
 ably as correct as when merely contemplated by the 
 reason.? How, if the subjective convictions and sub- 
 jective processes of the reason are not correct, can an 
 astronomer predict the return of a comet.? — and the 
 comet does return, to other men's perceptions, years 
 after he is dead. Scepticism is the greatest imposition 
 that ever fooled a man's reason, yet it must be fairly 
 met. 
 
 Never, perhaps, was the absence of a definition pro- 
 ductive of so much fruitless toil, as when men set to 
 work on philosophy. What does a man propose to 
 expound when he teaches philosophy? For a long- 
 period philosophy was ontology ; that is, the knowledge 
 of being, entirely and exclusively objective in its char- 
 
 41 
 
acter, entirely and exclusively subjective in its means 
 of operation. That is, men endeavored to substan- 
 tiate both the reality and the form of the universe in 
 their own minds, without the connecting link, evidence, 
 that renders one form of thought knowledge. There 
 was no evidence, therefore there was no knowledge. 
 With such a system the abstract sciences alone are 
 possible, as in them the evidence is subjective, and 
 supplied by the rational constitution of the mind. 
 
 The Baconian philosophy broke up ontology by 
 supplying the connecting link that must unite the 
 object and the subject. That link was evidence, and 
 that evidence was only possible by means of observa- 
 tion. Philosophy now separated into two parts — 
 metaphysics and science, which latter was the new 
 philosophy that arose from the new method of found- 
 ing knowledge on evidence. 
 
 The new philosophy has advanced with wonderful 
 strides, enlightening man's intellect, and dispersing 
 innumerable benefits, which reproduce themselves in an 
 infinity of forms, and hold out hopes of great and 
 permanent advantage to our race. The old philoso- 
 phy remains much where it was as regards its nature, 
 but in a very different position as to the extent of the 
 ground it occupies. 
 
 At one period the method of making science without 
 evidence was universal. It was applied to physics as 
 well as to metaphysics, and its domain was supposed 
 to extend over everything that could become the sub- 
 ject of human knowledge. It has now been driven 
 from every part of that region that has been occupied 
 by positive science. 
 
 Can nothing be learned from this fact? We think 
 that something can, and it is tliis — That philosophy, 
 after retrograding from every region of thought to 
 
 42 
 
wlilch man may apply his attention, shall at last re- 
 solve Itself into the science of human thought, and 
 pronounce nothing whatever on any subject that is 
 not merely and exclusively human thought. If we 
 consider knowledge, we shall find that it Implies three 
 things, the object (that is, the universe) ; the subject 
 (that is, the human mind) ; and the connecting link 
 between them, that is, evidence. Now, if we consider 
 that philosophy has abandoned one portion after 
 another of the object, just in proportion as positive 
 science has occupied that portion, we can see that, if 
 the process continues, the whole of the object must 
 ultimately be abandoned, and the subject alone become 
 the object of contemplation. And If so, then will phi- 
 losophy teach only psychology, taking that term ex- 
 tensively to signify mental science. 
 
 The multitude, in all ages, and in all places, have 
 admitted the existence of the mind, the existence of 
 the external world, and the existence of Deity. These 
 appear to be the common and general groundwork of 
 human credence and human action. The multitude 
 believed, and acted on their belief, taking the three 
 great facts we have mentioned as the most common 
 and ordinary truths, without which the whole economy 
 of thought must be overturned, and laid in inextri- 
 cable confusion. 
 
 The philosophers, however, endeavored to give a ra- 
 tional explanation of the theory of human credence 
 Their object was not to accept these great facts, and 
 thence to proceed to specific knowledge, but to lay 
 anew the rational evidence on which these facts them- 
 selves were to be admitted. 
 
 But before man can reason, three substantives must 
 be taken for granted, and two propositions must also 
 be given, involving those three substantives as the terms 
 
 43 
 
or he cannot by any possibility arrive at a proposi- 
 tion established by rational, that is, by logical proof. 
 Let men therefore pursue their inquiry as far back as 
 the most subtle intellect can possibly reach, there must 
 necessarily be found at the bottom of all real or of all 
 hypothetical reasoning, lihree substantives atid two 
 propositions, which, if accepted, may lead to real 
 knowledge, and, if rejected, must land us without fur- 
 ther difficulty in scepticism, absolutely universal. 
 
 Such being the case, we may unhesitatingly assert, 
 that at the bottom of all knowledece whatever there 
 must be found some substantive existences absolutely 
 incapable of rational substantiation, and some prop- 
 ositions absolutely incapable of rational demonstra- 
 tion. Without these it is impossible for man to reason. 
 
 The specific difference, then, between real knowledge 
 and philosophy appears to be this: — ^Real knowledge, 
 or positive science, accepts the ordinary belief of the 
 multitude; and, pursuing it forwards, endeavors to 
 determine its limitations, becoming at every step less 
 and less general. Philosophy, on the contrary, com- 
 mencing at the ordinary belief of the multitude, pur- 
 sues its course backwards, endeavoring at every step 
 to become more and more general. The ultimate ter- 
 mination of this course must ever necessarily be, either 
 to accept some propositions as primary and unproven, 
 or to maintain a consistent scepticism, which abso- 
 lutely obliterates the possibility of rational knowledge. 
 
 The geometrician, for instance, accepts space, with- 
 out the smallest inquiry into its nature. His object 
 is to limit, define, and exhibit the relations of spaces. 
 The sister substantive of space, namely time, is also 
 accepted by the man of science, whose only object is 
 to measure it accurately — that is, definitely to deter- 
 mine the limitations of its portions. The physical 
 
 44 
 
sciences, again, accept matter; and without the small- 
 est speculation as to what matter really is, they 
 each, in their several branches, endeavor to determine 
 definitely its various forms, and accurately to specify 
 its manifestations. Philosophy, on the contrary, 
 endeavors to go backwards from the ordinary cre- 
 dence, and to furnish some explanation as to what 
 matter is or is not, for some have attempted to oblite- 
 rate it altogether. 
 
 The two substantives, space and matter, are suffi- 
 cient for our purpose. Positive science accepting space, 
 and pursuing the inquiry forwards — investigating first 
 the forms of spaces, and then the necessary relations 
 that exist between those forms — furnishes us with 
 geometry. While by accepting matter, and inquiring 
 only into the forms of its manifestation, and the rela- 
 tions that are observed to exist between those forms, 
 we are, by the exercise of the human reason, at last 
 presented with the sciences of astronomy, mechanics, 
 chemistry, physiology, etc. 
 
 What has philosophy to place in the opposite scale? 
 After a thousand years of speculation as to whether 
 matter be a substance or a shadow, an existence real 
 or ideal, not one single hair's breadth of progress 
 towards its determination has ever been made. Every 
 discussion as to the nature of matter or of space may 
 be raised to-day as well as two thousand years ago. 
 
 We conceive, then, that the moment at which phi- 
 losophy wandered and went astray was, when it at- 
 tempted to discuss the objective truth or falsehood of 
 the primary credences or convictions of mankind. 
 These primary convictions, in their general form, are 
 at the bottom of all human knowledge; but whether 
 human knowledge have or have not an external, real, 
 and objective counterpart, which would remain if man 
 
 45 
 
and man's intellect were annihilated, neither philosophy 
 nor any other natural method can possibly determine. 
 Whether the mental propositions which constitute 
 knowledge coincide with actual and external realities 
 is a matter, not of knowledge, which can be rationally 
 substantiated, but of primary, unproven, and unprov- 
 able credence. 
 
 Philosophy can no longer attempt to pronounce h 
 priori upon what is or what is not, but must confine it- 
 self exclusively to thought and to that alone. The 
 true province of philosophy is not to inquire into the 
 truth or falsehood of the primary convictions of the 
 intellect, but to observe and record what those primary 
 convictions are, to enumerate them, to determine the 
 forms of their manifestations, and to pursue with re- 
 gard to human thought the same kind of inquiry that 
 the mathematical sciences pursue with regard to num- 
 bers, quantities, and spaces, and more nearly still, the 
 same kind of inquiry that the physical sciences pursue 
 with regard to matter and its manifestations. 
 
 Be the mind as complex as it may, it could of itself 
 originate not one single iota of knowledge, unless the 
 substantive groundwork of that knowledge were fur- 
 nished to it from without. Observation, psychological 
 or sensational, can alone furnish us with a fact, and a 
 fact in one form or other must lie at the bottom of 
 every chain of reasoning, not purely hypothetical. The 
 primary matter of knowledge, whether relating to the 
 me or the not me, must be derived exclusively from ob- 
 servation and never can by any possibility be more 
 than guessed at by the mere metaphysician. The form 
 of knowledge and not the matter is the true object 
 of philosophy. 
 
 We conclude, then, our argument with regard to the 
 combination of knowledge and reason. We mean not 
 
 46 ^ 
 
that men must combine knowledge and reason, but that 
 the great masses of the unprivileged classes must com- 
 bine together on the same knowledge and on the same 
 principles, that they have rationally deduced from that 
 knowledge. It has been said, that " for men to be 
 free, it is sufficient that they will it ; " never was there 
 a greater mistake, or one so utterly at variance with 
 the great facts of history. Perhaps no sentiment is 
 stronger in the human breast than the love of liberty. 
 For this men have panted, prayed, fought, struggled, 
 rebelled, and endured every kind of hardship, and ev- 
 ery kind of cruelty. And yet they are not free. To 
 be free, it is first necessary that men should know 
 wherein true freedom consists ; namely, in the absolute 
 supremacy of equal and impartial law, made without 
 respect of persons or classes, and administered with 
 uprightness and regularity. Nor is this all. True 
 freedom is the very highest point of political civiliza- 
 tion ; and to suppose that mere will can ever lead to 
 that point, is to suppose that men may overleap the 
 conditions of their nature, and reach the goal without 
 the struggles of the race. True freedom, however sim- 
 ple In its theory, is the highest, and probably the 
 most complex, form of combined society. It is the 
 whole body of society acting on the principles of knowl- 
 edge, and carrying truth into practical operation. 
 Will can never achieve this. It is the result and ulti- 
 mate end of a great progress, which makes its way with 
 knowledge, sometimes advancing with peaceful steps, 
 sometimes overturning the barriers that stand in the 
 way amid the din of revolution. It is the condition of 
 society where will is excluded, and law Is made on an 
 objective reason, which convinces man's judgment that 
 it is equitable. It is the condition first to be defined 
 in its abstract form by the man of thought, and then 
 
 47 
 
to be striven for by the mass of the population. A 
 condition that supposes great advancement and in- 
 finite benefit to mankind, but a condition that must be 
 purchased, and purchased only on those terms which 
 are prescribed by the laws of man's constitution. 
 
 There are three conditions of society involving a 
 cause on the one hand, and an eff'ect on the other. 
 
 The causes are Knowledge, Superstition, Infidelity. 
 The eff^ects Freedom, Despotism, Anarchy. 
 
 Such are the conditions of our nature. Man may 
 make his election of the cause, but God has determined 
 the character of the consequent. 
 
 No fact stands out more prominently from the con- 
 dition of the various nations, or from their history, 
 than that those conditions, and the great actions of 
 men in the figure of society, depend upon their cre- 
 dences ; that is, on the convictions of their intellect ; that 
 is, on the propositions they hold to be true. What 
 makes one nation press ardently forward in the pur- 
 suit of liberty, while another sits dead and stupid un- 
 der the iron rule of the despot? Thought, mere 
 thought, impalpable and invisible thought, a something 
 which can neither be seen, felt, nor handled ; but which 
 fixes man's destiny, raising him if correct to the dig- 
 nity and energy of freeman, dooming him if erroneous 
 to vice, degradation, and slavery. The history of the 
 world has to be re-written on a new principle, and this 
 unseen element has to be exhibited as the cause of the 
 condition of the nations. Climate, circumstance, and 
 race, may all go for something or for much; but, far 
 more influential than either, is credence. Sooner or 
 later men must learn the great fact, that the social 
 and political condition of a nation is absolutely de- 
 pendent on that nation's credence. Correct credence 
 is knowledge, and knowledge alone is capable of re- 
 
 48 
 
generating the political condition of mankind. Change 
 the credence of a nation, and you change the whole 
 current of its future progress. 
 
 We now turn to the use of combination. There are 
 certain evils which belong to the race of mankind, and 
 which afflict humanity more or less in every quarter of 
 the globe. In the existence of these evils is to be 
 found the reason of combination; and the object of 
 combination is to remove as much as possible, such of 
 them as affect the political condition of men, or the 
 condition of men in society. 
 
 The first great master evil is that which causes man 
 to prefer the gratification of passion to the enlight- 
 ened and rational exercise of his natural faculties. 
 Whatever view may be taken of the theological ques- 
 tion of natural depravity, we hold it a historical fact 
 of the very first magnitude, and of the most indubitable 
 veracity, that the human race, as such, has always, and 
 in every known region of the earth, " done the things 
 which it ought not to have done, and left undone the 
 things which it ought to have done." With regard to 
 man's nature, we shall enter into no disputation ; but, 
 with regard to men's actions, we view them through 
 the common medium of history, and we hesitate not to 
 see the practice of injustice more or less prevalent in 
 every country of the earth, and, at the same time, to 
 accept that explanation of the fact which is furnished 
 in such plain terms by the words of divine revelation. 
 History informs us that the actions of men are wicked ; 
 and surely there can be no absurdity in giving cre- 
 dence to Scripture, when it informs us that their hearts 
 are so likewise. With the depravity of the heart, poli- 
 tics has no concern; but, so soon as that depravity 
 comes to manifest itself in action, and to appear in 
 the form of fraud or violence, the necessity of a sys- 
 
 49 
 
tern of politics is immediately substantiated. Men are 
 wicked, and therefore inclined to do wrong; but they 
 are also rational, and may combine systematically to 
 prevent the wrong from being done. 
 
 1st, The progress of mankind is a progress from 
 ignorance, error, and superstition, toward knowledge. 
 
 2d, Governments being established in the earlier 
 stages of society — that is, during the reign of igno- 
 rance, error, and superstition — have always, and in ev- 
 ery known case, been more or less despotic; that is, 
 have aystematically assumed powers to whiich they 
 were not justly entitled. 
 
 3d, The progress of political society is a progress in 
 which these unjust powers have been gradually cur- 
 tailed and abolished, in proportion as the nation has 
 progressed from ignorance and superstition, and ad- 
 vanced towards knowledge. 
 
 The use, then, of the combination of knowledge and 
 reason, is (not to combine against individual injustice, 
 this being the province of the government, but) to re- 
 duce the powers of the government and the laws of 
 the country within those bounds of justice beyond 
 which they cannot be other than despotic. 
 
 It is the combination of the nation, or of the en- 
 lightened portion of the nation, against the laws of 
 the nation, and against the unjust powers of the rulers. 
 
 Liberty is advanced not by the warfare of one nation 
 against another nation, but by the warfare (physical 
 or moral) of the unprivileged classes against the un- 
 just laws, and against the unjust privileges that pre- 
 vail within the nation Itself; and this warfare can only 
 be carried on efficiently by the mass of the population 
 combining to extort those measures that have been 
 theoretically shown to be right, or those measures that 
 on good grounds are presumed to be beneficial. 
 
 50 
 
When we look back on the history of England or of 
 any other country that has made considerable progress, 
 we see that all the great changes that have taken place 
 in the political condition of the population have been 
 preceded by changes in the theoretic credence of the 
 population, and that the amended order of society has 
 resulted directly from a new and more correct order 
 of thought. And we may also see that these beneficial 
 changes have seldom, if ever, originated with the 
 rulers themselves, but have been extorted from them 
 sometimes by force, and sometimes by the moral in- 
 fluence that the man in the right has over the man 
 in the wrong. 
 
 Without alluding to the explosion of the " divine 
 right of kings," etc. (which enabled rulers to practice 
 flagrant iniquities without being brought to judicial 
 trial), we may refer to two modem instances of the 
 combination of knowledge and reason, by which the 
 people of Britain obtained changes of vast extent, by 
 a moral power which overcame the will of the rulers 
 and of the privileged orders, who were linked to sup- 
 port the abuses. We refer to the emancipation of the 
 negroes, and to the repeal of the corn-laws. 
 
 The laws of Great Britain declared that it was law- 
 ful for one man to possess another man as his property ; 
 and this principle was carried into practical operation 
 by the seizure and reduction to slavery of vast num- 
 bers of Africans. 
 
 In this negro slavery we have a vast system of fraud 
 and violence, established and continued by authority 
 of the British government; that is, we have the power 
 which has been conferred on the government for the 
 purpose of preventing violence and fraud, turned al- 
 together away from its legitimate exercise, and made 
 the instrument of supporting a system of glaring in- 
 
 51 
 
justice and flagrant iniquity. We have that greatest 
 of all political evils, injustice, established and main- 
 tained by law. And what was it that abolished negro 
 slavery.? It was the moral influence of knowledge, rea- 
 son, and religion. The trade had been sanctioned by 
 long use; the interests of the wealthy and powerful 
 were linked to maintain it; the laws of the empire had 
 declared it legitimate, and the government was opposed 
 to its abolition. More than this, not one single man 
 who had the means and the opportunity to make him- 
 self heard on behalf of the negro, had one farthing of 
 pecuniary interest in procuring the negro's emancipa- 
 tion. 
 
 What, then, were the motives and the means that 
 led to so great a political change as the emancipation 
 of a race from slavery? 
 
 First, Certain individuals learnt to think aright 
 on the subject, and to give utterance to their thoughts. 
 The battle was then commenced. On the one hand was 
 reason, involving the principles of natural equity, and 
 on the other was the despotism of the law, the power 
 of the government, and the pecuniary interests of the 
 wealthy and influential. 
 
 Sooner or later correct thought makes its way, and 
 the more rapidly and surely, the more a nation has 
 abandoned superstition. 
 
 The theoretic argument or credence adopted by the 
 advocates of liberty was, " That man is made free by 
 God, and can never be made rightfully a slave by 
 man." The argument in its most essential character 
 was one of mere justice, not of economical benefit or 
 prejudice, profit or loss. A moral agitation was com- 
 menced, the few were transformed into the many, and 
 the progress of opinion (of credence) was such, that 
 every possible argument that could be adduced on the 
 
 52 
 
opposite side was brought forth from the lying cham- 
 bers of selfishness. Everything in the shape of an ar- 
 gument, everything that could be made to pass for 
 one, though halt, lame, or blind, was pressed into the 
 service of casuistry, for the purpose of perpetuating 
 injustice. 
 
 The theoretic credence, however, gained ground, and 
 was powerfully aided by a more accurate knowledge 
 of the enormities that Britons practised on Africans 
 under shelter of British law. Authentic information 
 was obtained and disseminated, and at last a great 
 combination of knowledge and reason was brought to 
 bear against the iniquity. PoHtical justice, however, 
 is a plant of slow growth ; and years of debate, of 
 contest between truth and falsehood, were necessary, 
 before even the trading in human blood, the buying 
 and selling of man, who was made in the image of the 
 Creator, ceased to receive the sanction of the most en- 
 lightened and freest state in the world. And here we 
 cannot fail to remark one circumstance that has almost 
 invariably accompatiied eVery political change which 
 had for its object the destruction of an injustice. We 
 mean the outcry about the evils that would follow. No 
 sooner has any one, more enlightened or more impartial 
 than his neighbors, insisted on an act of justice (which, 
 after all, let it never be forgotten, is only the refrain- 
 ing from injustice), than all the evils in the category 
 are immediately prognosticated, as if the doing of 
 God's will were to let loose hell to ravage the earth. 
 
 When the emancipation of the African was spoken 
 of, and when the nation of Britain appeared to be 
 taking into serious consideration the rightfulness of 
 abolishing slavery, what tremendous evils were to fol- 
 low ! Trade was to be ruined, commerce was almost to 
 cease, and manufacturers were to be bankrupts. Worse 
 
 53 
 
than all, private property was to be invaded (property 
 in human flesh), the rights of planters sacrificed to the 
 speculative notions of fanatics, and the British govern- 
 ment was to commit an act that would forever deprive 
 it of the confidence of British subjects. These evils at 
 home were, of course, to be accompanied by others 
 abroad much more tremendous. The West India 
 islands were, of course, to be ruined past all possible 
 hope of recovery; the blacks were to insurge and to 
 destroy the white population; a moral hurricane, ten 
 times more dreadful than the winds of heaven, was to 
 sweep across the Caribbean Sea ; blood was to flow like 
 water; the emancipated slave was to celebrate the first 
 moment of his liberty with rape, rapine, and murder; 
 evils unheard of and inconceivable were to astonish the 
 earth; the very heavens were to fall. And why? Be- 
 cause British subjects were no longer to be permitted 
 by British law to hold their fellow men in slavery on 
 British ground. 
 
 The law was a positive enactment armed with power, 
 and the moment the law ceased to exist the negro was 
 emancipated, not by the law, but by nature. The law 
 may make a slave, but it is beyond the power of the 
 law to make a freeman. The only question that can 
 ever be legitimately taken into consideration, with re- 
 gard to slavery, is immediate and total abolition, and 
 so of all similar cases where injustice is established or 
 systematically perpetuated by law. 
 
 The people of Great Britain were taxed by force for 
 the purpose of paying the planters for their slaves. 
 Theoretically, the Commons imposed the taxation on 
 themselves; but nine-tenths of the population have 
 nothing to do with the election of members of parlia- 
 nicnt, and so far as they were concerned, the taxation 
 was ah extra — forced on them by a government which 
 
 54 
 
they had no voice in electing. We maintain that this 
 act was one of downright injustice and oppression, 
 whatever may be said of its magnanimity. 
 
 The planters knew perfectly well that they never 
 had a moral right to the slaves, and consequently they 
 could have no mon 1 claim to compensation. Now, the 
 slave-laws were not enacted by this generation, and it 
 is admitted that those who enacted them had no pos- 
 sible right to do so. The payment of the twenty mil- 
 lions, therefore, resolved itself into this, " The law of 
 Britain will not cease to lend its aid and its arm to 
 perpetuate slavery, unless the people of Britain pay 
 an immense sum to the planters." The only course 
 that was really legitimate was for the government of 
 Britain to declare that it had no possible right to make 
 or keep men slaves, and at once to expunge the stat- 
 utes, letting the planters take their chance, at the 
 same time protecting the negroes, as British subjects, 
 born on British ground. It was a just, and as the 
 world goes, a glorious thing for Britain to abolish 
 slavery as it did; but most certainly the laboring man 
 of England, who pays five per cent, on his tea, sugar, 
 and tobacco, to pay the planters, is as surely oppressed 
 and defrauded as was the negro, although not to the 
 same extent. No man in the world, and no association 
 in the world, could ever have an equitable right to tax a 
 laborer for the purpose of remunerating a man-robber; 
 and although the measure is now passed and done with, 
 we very much question whether some analogous cases 
 will not be cleared up by the mass of the nation ere 
 many years pass over the heads of Englishmen. When 
 the question of landed property comes to a definite 
 discussion, there may be little thought of compensa- 
 tion. 
 
 The other instance of a great and successful com- 
 
 55 
 
bmation, in which knowledge and reason triumphed 
 over the law, the government, and the privileged classes 
 of the country, was recently exhibited in the repeal of 
 the corn-laws. 
 
 The case of the corn-laws appears to have been this. 
 
 The farmer, in taking a farm, has three great sub- 
 jects to consider, 1st, The quantity of produce. 2d, 
 The probable price of produce, 3d, Amount of rent. 
 
 The first question which the would-be farmer has to 
 answer, is, " Can he make a profit by taking land from 
 the landowner, and selling corn to the consumer?" A 
 given farm is estimated to produce a certain average 
 quantity of grain. This quantity is the first item to 
 be considered, as it is the basis of all future calcula- 
 tion. A certain portion of this quantity is requisite 
 for consumption, and the remainder is marketable. 
 The marketable portion, being the real merchandise 
 which the farmer buys and retails again, must always 
 be assumed at a certain value in the terms of the price 
 paid for it. Whatever price the farmer pays for his 
 marketable com, he must expect, on the first principle 
 of commerce, to receive a larger price (in the same 
 terms) from the consumer. This larger price is the 
 whole ultimate object of the farmer; and provided it 
 is sufficient he is satisfied. 
 
 This then appears to have been the essence of the 
 corn-laws. At the price at which com would be sold 
 in the English market, provided that market were open 
 to all the world, the farmer could only pay a certain 
 rent for land; but, provided all foreign competition 
 was excluded up to a given point, the farmer could 
 aflTord to pay a much higher rent for land, and yet 
 derive the same real profit. The farmer was deluded 
 into the idea of obtaining a high price for com, and 
 naturally gave, or stipulated to give, a high price for 
 
 56 
 
land. The evil was unseen in Its real malignity, until 
 the abundant harvests of 1835 and 1836. The farmers 
 were then reduced to sell at a natural price, while they 
 had to pay a taxation rent, and of course they felt the 
 weight of that system of legislation which attempted 
 to amend the order of Providence, and on which, with 
 all its nice adjustments, the landed legislators had des- 
 canted so wisely. 
 
 The low price of com at that period let the manu- 
 facturers into a secret; they obtained great sums of 
 money, and with the money obtained what was of more 
 value to the country — they obtained knowledge. They 
 were taught that their commercial prosperity de- 
 pended, in a great measure, on the low price of corn 
 in Britain ; and a very cursory consideration may ex- 
 plain how this happens. Let us suppose that there 
 are five millions of the laboring population who have a 
 gross income of from 10s. or 12s. to 30s. or 40s. per 
 week. The laborer, out of his income, has to provide 
 the three great requisites — food, shelter, and raiment; 
 and, even at the best and most prosperous of times, his 
 earnings are not much more than sufficient to procure 
 these in decent abundance. Let us suppose that wheat 
 is at 40s. per quarter, and that a laborer's family con- 
 sumes 4s. worth of bread per week. He then has the 
 remainder of his week's income to dispose of in the 
 purchase of his other requisites. But let wheat rise to 
 80s. per quarter, and he must then expend 8s. per week 
 for the same quantity of bread that he previously pur- 
 chased for 4s. We have here a difference of 4s. per 
 week; and the question is. What does the laborer do 
 with those 4s. when bread is cheap? The answer is 
 very simple — he spends it with the manufacturer. The 
 laborer is at ease in his circumstances because he has 
 this little revenue of 4s. a week to come and go on. It 
 
 57 
 
is true, he must lay it out carefully ; but then how dif- 
 ferent to have it to think about, instead of having it 
 screwed out of him by a crying pressure for food! 
 When he has it, he feels himself a free man, he has a 
 new social and domestic existence, he is a buyer from 
 choice, not from necessity; and the family deliberations 
 as to how it shall be spent, give a new interest to the 
 hours he spends at home. All goes on merrily, and old 
 England is worth all the countries under the sun. 
 
 Let us take even a moderate estimate of this 4s. a 
 week, and we shall see how vast a sum it amounts to 
 in the course of a year. Suppose that five millions have 
 it to spend, and that those five millions spend £10 with 
 the manufacturers. Fifty millions sterling arises from 
 the difference in the price of com ! Had the corn- 
 laws operated according to the intentions of land-pro- 
 prietors, and kept wheat at 80s. in the year 1836, 
 there can be no doubt whatever that they would have 
 deprived the laboring population of fifty millions worth 
 of goods, and the manufacturers of fifty millions worth 
 of sales, as directly as if those fifty millions had been 
 wrested by violence from the laborer; but this is one 
 of the facts which the indirect system of taxation is 
 employed to conceal. 
 
 The repeal of the corn-laws was effected by a great 
 combination of knowledge and reason. Certain in- 
 dividuals found that their lawful interests were seriously 
 injured by the interference of the enacbnents, and they 
 resolved to make an effort for the abolition of those 
 enactments. Of themselves they were utterly powerless, 
 and all their individual exertions would have been inef- 
 fectual to achieve their end. They had, however, knowl- 
 edge and reason on their side ; that is, they v/ere in pos- 
 session of certain facts, which led by necessary infer- 
 ence to the conclusion, that the corn-laws were eminently 
 
 58 
 
prejudicial in their operation, and that therefore the 
 corn-laws should no longer be allowed to exist. Con- 
 scious that they had truth on their side, they came 
 fearlessly before the nation, and staked their cause 
 on the power of truth to convince the mass of the popu- 
 lation. They lectured, and published, and spoke, and 
 argued, all for one specific end; namely, to communi- 
 cate knowledge to the nation, and thereby to make the 
 nation change its credence on the subject of the corn- 
 laws. The truth gradually prevailed; that is, was 
 generally disseminated; that is, the same knowledge 
 was received by a larger number of individuals, who 
 naturally drew the same necessary inference. A great 
 combination was formed, such as must ever remain one 
 of the historic glories of Britain and of Britons. It 
 was essentially a combination of knowledge and rea- 
 son ; and well-grounded argument was the only weapon 
 v/ith which it maintained the contest. Far more was 
 involved than a mere change in the economical laws of 
 the kingdom ; it was a contest between the two great 
 classes of British society — the unprivileged laborers 
 and the privileged landowners. The privileged classes, 
 almost to a man, were against the change; and they 
 also, on their side, endeavored to establish a combina- 
 tion — a combination of class interest, in which the only 
 available argument was the pecuniary interest of the 
 order. The exertions made by the anti-com-law party 
 to convince the judgment of the nation were prodigious 
 and never had any political agitation so much the ap- 
 pearance of instructing, and so little the appearance of 
 exciting the passions. Instead of the vague harangues 
 of noisy and designing demagogues, there was the so- 
 ber communication of information which would have 
 been interesting and instructive, even had it been alto- 
 gether unoonnected with the great practical conse- 
 
 59 
 
quence. The nation was convinced at last; and not- 
 withstanding all the influence of the aristocracy, and 
 all the unwillingness of the Government, the laws were 
 repealed, and, as there is every reason to suppose, 
 abolished forever. 
 
 Both the slave-laws and the corn-laws were positive 
 enactments to restrain and diminish the natural liberty 
 of men who had infringed no law of equity, and who 
 had in no respect injured their fellow-men by force, 
 fraud, or licentiousness. The abolition of those laws, 
 therefore, was only to allow things to remain as they 
 were established by nature; and when the world dis- 
 covers that God has constituted nature aright, men 
 will have arrived at the first and greatest principle of 
 social science. 
 
 The legislators of the country were, in their private 
 capacity, extensively interested in the maintenance of 
 the unjust laws; and thus, in opposing their repeal, 
 were using their official influence for their own per- 
 sonal advantage to the eminent detriment of their fel- 
 low-subjects. 
 
 The abolition of the slave- and corn-laws was only 
 attained after a long and arduous struggle; the legis- 
 lature of Great Britain, so far from taking the initia- 
 tive in their repeal, offered every possible opposition 
 to the wishes of the nation ; and it was only when the 
 pressure from without became so imperative that fur- 
 ther resistance might have been dangerous, that the 
 deliberative assembly of the freest state in the world, 
 declared that it was not a crime for a man with a dark 
 skin to enjoy natural freedom, or for a trader to im- 
 port corn without being subject to a tax so enormous, 
 that it usually operated as a prohibition. 
 
 The slave- and corn-laws were at last repealed, by a 
 process which we doubt not will ultimately achieve the 
 
 60 
 
repeal of every law which restricts or prohibits actions 
 not naturally criminal — the wiser and better part of 
 the nation combined against the legislature. On the 
 one hand were knowledge, reason, and religion; on the 
 other, prescriptive privilege, and the will of the legis- 
 lator. The abolition of slavery was a question of jus- 
 tice ; the abolition of the corn-laws, a question of bene- 
 fit. The main argument advanced against slavery was 
 that it was unjust; the main argument advanced 
 against the corn-laws was that they were prejudicial 
 to the country. 
 
 The argument of justice proceeds upon the principle 
 that certain actions may not be done, whatever be 
 their consequences. The argument of benefit assumes 
 that the action itself is indifferent ; that is, that It 
 has not In itself any such moral character as will en- 
 able us to pronounce at once, whether it ought or 
 ought not to be done. 
 
 History teaches us, that It is not sufficient for men 
 to know that an action or an enactment is unjust to 
 induce them to abandon the action, or to abolish the 
 enactment ; for this they seldom do until the evidence 
 of the evil fruits of the Injustice are so superabundant, 
 that no mere sophism can be longer held as an excuse. 
 The argument of justice, instead of being the most 
 practically influential, as it is the most morally valid, 
 is seldom of avail until backed by a knowledge of the 
 economical evils that never in any one case fail to ac- 
 company Injustice; and though the voice of God, and 
 the voice of universal reason may ever be heard pro- 
 claiming, " Do not unto others as ye would not that 
 others should do unto you," it is not until some sum- 
 mation of evil consequences has convinced men of their 
 error, that they abandon their course of lawless self- 
 ishness, and allow the constitution of society to remain 
 
 61 
 
on the natural footing established by the Creator. 
 And in this we may see the reason why the political 
 progress of mankind has been so slow, and why an 
 extensive knowledge of facts must accompany an ad- 
 mission of principles, before societies awake to the 
 necessity of remodelling their constitution, and re- 
 turning from the systems established in barbarous 
 ages, to the more simple and equitable system which 
 the eye of reason may read in the constitution of har- 
 monious nature. It is ever immutably and irrevocably 
 wrong, that any man, or any body of men whatever, 
 should constrain another man, not a criminal, to labor 
 for the advantage of any save himself and his kindred ; 
 yet half a century of agitation was necessary before 
 England withdrew her oppressing arm from the negro ; 
 and then the negro was only emancipated by wresting 
 his price from the population of Britain. 
 
 Such were two modern instances of the combination 
 of knowledge and reason, — spirit-stirring exhibitions 
 of the energies of a noble people warring for the aboli- 
 tion of injustice, and for the emancipation of legiti- 
 mate industry. 
 
 Notwithstanding the length of our argument con- 
 cerning the combination of knowledge and reason, we 
 shall not consider it too lengthened, if it in anywise 
 contributes to elucidate those means that must be put 
 in operation for advancing the political progress of 
 mankind. It is the greatest possible absurdity to sup- 
 pose that all the changes that take place in the polit- 
 ical condition of societies are only portions of a rou- 
 tine which, when fulfilled, is to commence again, and 
 again to present the same phases, and the same or 
 analogous phenomena. No ; the political progress of 
 mankind is a passage to one definite end, to an ultima- 
 tum, to a condition that requires no further change, to 
 
 62 
 
a stable s^^stem of law that does not demand perpetual 
 deliberation, but only perpetual administration ; and 
 the great question for the political world is, " What 
 is that end? What is that system? What is that 
 ultimatum ? " What, in fact, is the political con- 
 dition of society that controverts no principle of 
 reason, and sins against no precept of religion? for 
 this, we may rest assured, is the ultimate end towards 
 which all civilized societies must progress ; no man for 
 a moment can hesitate to pronounce, or to prophesy 
 with unlimited assurance, that the negroes in the slave 
 states of America will ultimately obtain their freedom, 
 and that the serfs of Russia will ultimately be eman- 
 cipated. 
 
 The real history of political progress commences 
 only at that period where the maximum of disparity 
 between the various orders or classes begins to be sys- 
 tematically diminished. From this point (which is 
 chronologically different in the various countries) 
 there is a natural course of progress, different in the 
 outward circumstances of its manifestation, but essen- 
 tially the same in its abstract characters, in every 
 country that achieves civilization. The essence of this 
 progress is the gradual emancipation of the rights of 
 the serf or unprivileged laborer, and the corresponding 
 diminution of the privileges of the lord. Now it may 
 be observed, that the great revolutions which take place 
 in the earlier portions of this progress are physical 
 force revolutions, changes brought about by the sword, 
 because there are no other means sufficiently powerful 
 to effect them. Nor is it difficult to see v/hy. Were the 
 privileged classes to admit reason as the umpire, there 
 would be no necessity for force revolutions ; but as the 
 changes come to be necessary, they must be achieved 
 by such means as will effect them, however undesirable 
 
 63 
 
it may be that such means should be necessary. Where, 
 however, liberty has made a real progress, knowledge 
 must have made a real progress ; and where knowledge 
 has progressed, reason becomes as powerful an agent 
 as force and one which ought ever to be chosen if the 
 alternative be in our choice. 
 
 The history of civilized communities shows us, that 
 the progression of mankind in a political aspect is, 
 from a diversity of privileges towards an equality of 
 rights. 
 
 That one man can have a privilege only by depriv- 
 ing another man, or many other men, of a portion of 
 their rights, consequently, a reign of justice will con- 
 sist in the destruction of every privilege, and in the 
 restitution of every right. 
 
 That under the supreme direction of divine provi- 
 dence, man is the agent employed in working out his 
 own political wellbeing. 
 
 That man cannot work out his political wellbeing 
 unless he knows wherein that wellbeing consists. Knowl- 
 edge, therefore, is necessary to enable man to work out 
 his political wellbeing. 
 
 That men must know correctly before they can act 
 correctly. 
 
 That the political wellbeing of mankind involves two 
 things — correct knowledge and correct action. Cor- 
 rect action is knowledge carried into practical opera- 
 tion. 
 
 That the political regeneration of mankind is de- 
 pending on the acquisition and promulgation of po- 
 litical knowledge. 
 
 That in the laws which should regulate man's politi- 
 cal action, there is a truth and a falsehood, as much as 
 there is a truth and a falsehood in matters of geomet- 
 ric or astronomic science. 
 
 64t 
 
That the political condition of men can never be 
 what it ought to be, until men have acquired the req- 
 uisite knowledge; that is, until they have perfected 
 political science, and reduced it to the same form and 
 ordination as any of the other sciences. 
 
 That, with the perfection of political science, there 
 will necessarily follow an amended order of political 
 action, and consequently an amended condition of 
 society. 
 
 That political knowledge is divided into two dis- 
 tinct branches ; First, a sensational branch, which fur- 
 nishes us with the facts of man's condition, and the 
 actual results of human action ; Second, a rational 
 branch which furnishes us with the principles that 
 ought to regulate human action. 
 
 The first is political economy ; the second is politics, 
 or the science of equity. 
 
 That improvements in the political conditions of a 
 country are made exactly in proportion as the truths 
 of political economy and political science are reduced 
 to practice. 
 
 That in every country there are privileged classes 
 who have more power or more property than they are 
 justly entitled to, and unprivileged classes who have 
 less power or less property than they are justly en- 
 titled to. That the difference between these two 
 classes has been undergoing a gradual but sure proc- 
 ess of diminution. This fact we learn from history. 
 
 That the further progress of the diminution in the 
 difference between the privileged and unprivileged 
 classes, may be surely anticipated as the continuation 
 of a process that has already been going on for cen- 
 turies. 
 
 That the absolute equality of men in all political 
 rights is the ultimate end of political progression. 
 
 65 
 
That so long as there Is not absolute equality of polit- 
 ical rights, there is the constant element of further 
 change and consequently good reason for anticipating 
 further change. 
 
 That while a single individual may or may not de- 
 termine his actions according to his knowledge, the 
 constitution of humanity in the mass necessarily de- 
 termines, that wherever knowledge is obtained, system- 
 atically ordinated, and generally diffused, an amended 
 order of action will invariably result. 
 
 But as the old condition necessarily involves the 
 interests of some parties (placemen, slave-ov/ners, 
 land-owners, for instance), the transition from the old 
 condition, which was erroneous, to the new and 
 amended condition, is always the cause of a social 
 struggle between the partisans of the old condition 
 and the partisans of the new. 
 
 If the change be sought in a country that has at- 
 tained to liberty of discussion, a free press, a tolerably 
 extensive representation, etc. (that is, where delibera- 
 tive judgment and not mere will rules), the sword 
 (always an evil, though sometimes necessary) may be 
 superseded by the moral force of truth. Knowledge 
 disseminated will convince the masses, and when the 
 masses are convinced they will combine, and when they 
 combine, the change, sooner or later, will follow as 
 a necessary consequence. But wherever the unjust 
 interests of the ruling classes are required to give way 
 before the progress of knowledge, and those ruling 
 classes peremptorily refuse to allow the condition of 
 society to be amended, the sword is the instrument 
 which knowledge and reason may be compelled to use; 
 for it is not possible, It is not within the limits of man's 
 choice, that the progress of society can be permanently 
 arrested when the intellect of the masses has advanced 
 
 66 
 
In knowledge beyond those propositions, of which the 
 present condition is only the realization. 
 
 We posit, finally, that the acquisition, scientific 
 ordination, and general diffusion of knowledge, will 
 necessaril}^ obliterate error and superstition, and con- 
 tinually amend the condition of man upon the globe, 
 until his ultimate condition shall be the best the cir- 
 cumstances of the earth permit of. When the rule of 
 reason and equal justice to all has superseded the rule 
 of superstition and prescription, and when the doc- 
 trine of equality has been applied to society and 
 we have no privileges, no hereditary distinctions, 
 and no diversity of conditions, except those lof office 
 or those produced by the more or less successful result 
 of industry, skill or enterprise, v/e shall have a system 
 that contains within Itself the construction of a jural 
 society, and also the obliteration of all just cause of 
 war. On this ground we take up the natural probabil- 
 ity of a millennium whose natural probability we main- 
 tain to be within the calculation of the human reason. 
 
 67 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 THE THEORY OF MAn's INTELLECTUAL PROGRESSION 
 
 THERE are only so many possible sciences, al- 
 though each science, in its own department, 
 may be pursued indefinitely. 
 
 The sciences are capable of being classed on a sys- 
 tem which is not arbitrary. 
 
 Classification is a mere process of the intellect 
 whereby the sciences are arranged in a certain order, 
 according to a principle. The discovery of the sci- 
 ences is a historical fact extending over many cen- 
 turies. We assert that the order of discovery has 
 been correlative with the order of classification. There 
 is, therefore, the strongest ground for believing that 
 the future sciences will be discovered and reduced to 
 ordination in the same order that they stand in the 
 scheme of classification. 
 
 Correlative with the sciences are the arts. 
 
 The sciences are knowledge, the arts are action. 
 
 With the discovery of the sciences, there follows in- 
 variably a new and amended order of action. The 
 word art we use as signifying the systematic products 
 of human activity. The fine arts are, to a great ex- 
 tent, the gift of the individual, and consequently arc 
 so far independent of science. 
 
 The sciences are classed on their complexity. 
 
 Let it be remembered that science is not a reality, 
 but only a form of thought. Science exists in the 
 mind, and in the mind alone; it is the mind's mode of 
 viewing reality. 
 
 68 
 
The realities are matter and mind. 
 
 Reasoning is subsequent to a propositional knowl- 
 edge, and is the process whereby a new proposition 
 is made to evolve from two anterior propositions. 
 
 The syllogism is the complete expression, in lan- 
 guage, for reasoning ; and both are correlative with all 
 the active functions of real nature. 
 
 Were man incapable of reasoning, he might appre- 
 hend all the realities of nature, and classify all on 
 the most perfect system of ordination ; but never, by 
 any possibility, could he explain and calculate the 
 functions of realities. Every function is active, and 
 every action involves an agent (or cause) ; and were 
 man not endowed with the intuitive principle of causa- 
 tion, all motions, combinations, functions, in a word, 
 all changes, would immediately become inexplicable, 
 and the universe would forever remain a vast enigma. 
 
 The actual constitution of the human intellect is as 
 absolutely necessary to all science, as is the existence 
 of the realities of which the sciences respectively treat. 
 
 This is the necessary order of the mathematical 
 sciences. 
 
 Logic; which really includes two sciences. 
 
 Arithmetic ; algebra ; geometry ; statics. 
 
 In this order, the mathematical sciences must neces- 
 sarily be classed, and in this order the mathematical 
 sciences must necessarily be discovered. Ten thousand 
 men originating the mathematical sciences by a proc- 
 ess of independent investigation, would necessarily 
 discover them in this order; and were ten thousand 
 worlds peopled with human beings to go through the 
 process of making anew the mathematical sciences, 
 every one of those human races would pass through 
 the same intellectual course, and evolve the abstract 
 sciences exactly in the same necessary lorder. The 
 
 69 
 
constitution of human reason forbids that it should be 
 otherwise; one science being impossible until its ante- 
 cedent is so well known as to be capable of subjective 
 operation. Thus, unless the laws -of identity are 
 known, there can be no investigation of the laws of 
 equality; and until the laws of equality are known, 
 there can be no investigation of the laws of numbers ; 
 and until arithmetic is known, there can be no investi- 
 gation of the laws of quantity; and until the laws of 
 quantity are known, there can be no investigation into 
 the relations of spaces ; and until geometry is known, 
 there can be no statics. 
 
 Without the mathematical sciences there can be no 
 physical science — there may be classifications, facts, 
 propositions innumerable; but science, which involves 
 the syllogism, there never can be till the abstract 
 sciences are so far advanced as to be capable of sub- 
 jective application to the real facts of nature. 
 
 Logic is the universal form of all science. The 
 mathematical sciences are only logic, with numbers, 
 quantities, spaces, or forces for the terms ; and the 
 physical sciences are only logic, with physical reali- 
 ties for the terms. The form remains universally the 
 same. 
 
 It is evident that all the physical sciences must be 
 based on the observation of the existence, condition, 
 and function of the real matter with which man is 
 acquainted. 
 
 The physical sciences may be termed, nature seen 
 by the reason, and not merely by the senses. 
 
 Between the syllogism, the intellectual reason of 
 mankind, and the operations of external nature, there 
 is the most perfect parallelism; and this parallelism 
 affords a most undoubted proof of the objective vera- 
 city of the subjective convictions of the human mind. 
 
 70 
 
Were the general convictions of the human reason (its 
 axioms) not true objectively, as well as necessarily 
 true subjectively, the prediction of physical phenom- 
 ena would be absolutely impossible. And although 
 the philosophic sceptic may by ingenious ambiguities 
 involve that question in doubts and sophisms, surely 
 we may rest satisfied that the same hand that made 
 the heavens and the earth in so wonderful a harmony 
 of order, has not made the human reason only a mock- 
 ery and a delusion. 
 
 All the phenomena of nature are operations — things 
 done. Now, science consists of knowledge, and knowl- 
 edge exists in the mind. How, then, are we to view 
 the real operations of nature, considered as external 
 to the mind? 
 
 The real operations of nature are to be viewed as 
 arts — as divine arts — and their comprehension alone 
 can be called science. The universe is God's great 
 workshop, and man is the rational spectator whose office 
 it is to comprehend the processes that are there car- 
 ried on. The motions of the planets do not constitute 
 science; it is the rational apprehension of those mo- 
 tions in the human mind that constitutes science. But 
 the principles of mechanics are far more general tlian 
 all the facts of astronomy; they apply not only to 
 the real sun and the real planets, but to all possible 
 suns, and to all possible matter constituted in a manner 
 similar to the matter with which we are acquainted. 
 
 Consequently astronomy, vast as it is, must be 
 viewed only as a real illustration of the principles of 
 mechanics, as an exemplification of dynamics. 
 
 We have said that the classification of the sciences, 
 and their chronological discovery, must follow the 
 order of their complexity. After the inorganic sci- 
 ences, therefore, come the sciences of organization, of 
 
 71 
 
vegetable and animal physiology, showing a continual 
 increase of complexity until we arrive at man, the most 
 complex and most highly organized of all the earth's 
 inhabitants. 
 
 But still, though physiology be the highest and 
 most complex of all the physical sciences, there Is 
 something beyond it, something that comes after it in 
 the logical order of classification. Man himself has 
 his functions ; and when we have considered what man 
 is, we may turn to what man does. 
 
 Man Is by nature a social being, made to live in 
 society, and his social acts have their laws, which 
 when understood give us a new order of knowledge 
 altogether distinct from the knowledge contained In 
 the previous sciences. And again, men may trespass 
 on each other — may inflict pain on each other — may 
 do evil to each other. Men therefore must legislate. 
 
 And here an evident distinction presents itself, which 
 enables us to classify human action. We may ask, 
 "What means will lead to a certain end?" and 
 " What Is the end that ought to be produced ? " 
 
 We have here two social sciences, in each of which 
 there Is the same stable truth that prevails In all the 
 other sciences, if man can only discover it and reduce 
 it to scientific ordination. It must be within the reach 
 of man, or else we must admit that all rules of social 
 action are purely arbitrary ; that Is, In fact, that there 
 are no rules. Such a supposition, however, is per- 
 fectly absurd, and can never be consistently main- 
 tained. 
 
 On the above distinction Is grounded the division of 
 social science into non-moral and moral; the one treat- 
 ing exclusively on the relation of means to an end, 
 and the other exclusively on the end that ought to be 
 the object of pursuit. 
 
 72 
 
In these new sciences human action is the element 
 with which we have to reason; and the conditions of 
 men are the phenomena that result directly from that 
 action. 
 
 The first of these sciences is political economy, 
 which is purely inductive, and treats of the physical 
 effects of human action so far as those effects are to 
 be discovered in the condition of societies. The second 
 is politics, the science of equity which is purely ab- 
 stract, and treats of the universal principles that 
 ought to regulate human action, so far as men can 
 affect each other by their actions. 
 
 The fundamental noun-substantive of poltical econ- 
 omy is utility, of which value is the measure. The 
 fundamental noun-substantive of politics is equity, 
 which, having its abstract laws in the very constitution 
 of the human mind, gives us the moral measure of 
 human action. 
 
 The principles of this equity are abstract and uni- 
 versal convictions of the reason. 
 
 We maintain, then. 
 
 First, That the sciences, classed on their com- 
 plexity, must be classed in the following order: 
 
 1st, The mathematical and force sciences. 
 
 2d, The inorganic physical sciences, beginning with 
 the most general, and terminating with the most 
 specific. 
 
 Sd, The organic physical sciences, composed of 
 vegetable and animal physiology. 
 
 4th, The sciences that relate exclusively to man, 
 and that treat of human action. These are (1) non- 
 moral, political economy, which treats of the bene- 
 ficial or prejudicial effects of human action; (2) 
 moral, politics, which treats of the moral character of 
 human action, whether that action be the action of a 
 
 73 
 
single individual towards another individual, or 
 whether it be the action of a whole society, or portion 
 of a society. Politics is, in fact, nothing more than 
 the moral law which ought to regulate the actions of 
 the individual, extended to the actions of men when 
 associated as a political society, the same moral law 
 being obligatory on multitudes that is obligatory on 
 the individual. 
 
 This is the essence of human welfare, — truth dis- 
 covered and carried into practical operation. 
 
 Let it be remembered that the progress of mankind 
 in the evolution of civilization, is a progress from 
 superstition and error towards knowledge. Super- 
 stition and error present themselves under the form of 
 diversity of credence; knowledge presents itself under 
 the form of unity of credence. Wherever there is 
 knowledge, that knowledge is the same in all pai-ts of 
 the earth, and the same in substance whatever lan- 
 guage it may use as the instrument of expression. The 
 progress of mankind, therefore, is a progress from di- 
 versity of credence towards unity of credence. There is 
 but one truth, one scheme of knowledge; and conse- 
 quently, wherever knowledge is really attained, diver- 
 sity of credence is impossible. Where men differ in 
 credence, they differ because one or all have not knowl- 
 edge. 
 
 We have then to ask, Into what branches is knowl- 
 edge divided.? Into the facts of sensational and 
 psychological observation, rational science, and his- 
 tory. 
 
 Next, " In what chronological order have the vari- 
 ous branches been reduced to scientific ordination.''" 
 The chronological order in which the sciences have 
 been discovered, or reduced to ordination, is correla- 
 tive with the logical scheme of classification. One 
 
 74 
 
science must precede another m chronological dis- 
 covery, because it is requisite to render that other 
 science discoverable. The one is the means whereby 
 we attain to the other, just as In a single science one 
 problem must be solved before we can, by any possi- 
 bility, attain to the solution of another problem. And 
 the law of this dependence of one science on another 
 is, that the truths of the antecedent science which are 
 the objects of research when we study that science, 
 become subjective — that is, means of operation — 
 v/hen we study the consequent science. 
 
 It Is Impossible, therefore, that the sciences should 
 be discovered In any other than a certain order; that 
 Is, man must acquire knowledge en a scheme which 
 has laws as fixed and definite as the very laws of the 
 sciences themselves. 
 
 We may remark, however, that, although the sci- 
 ences are necessarily antecedent and consequent to 
 each other, they Interweave or overlap each other In 
 their chronological evolution ; just as father and son 
 may be alive at the same time, yet the father Is neces- 
 sarily older than the son. And in the evolution of the 
 sciences, we may have several generations on foot at 
 a given period; we may have three, four, five, or six 
 sciences all undergoing the process of evolution, but 
 all at different stages of progress. 
 
 Let us take chemistry as the most advanced inor- 
 ganic physical science, and classify the sciences that 
 follow chemistry In the natural scheme of classifica- 
 tion. We have then — 
 
 Chemistry. 
 
 Vegetable physiology 
 Animal physiology. 
 Man-science. 
 75 
 
The new tenn acquired in the passage from the 
 inorganic to the organic sciences, is vitality — life. 
 
 The maintenance of animal life is the physical ulti- 
 matum of the earth, the last final function of matter. 
 When we proceed beyond this, we arrive at a region 
 where the functions are no longer purely physical; 
 for although man in his political economy may partly 
 be viewed as a higher kind of animal, yet his functions, 
 even in that region, are essentially distinguished from 
 those of animals by the introduction of intellectual 
 computation. 
 
 When, therefore, we turn to the sustentation of men 
 associated together in society, we have passed from the 
 region of mere organization, and have entered the 
 sphere of rational intelligence. 
 
 The science that treats of the production and dis- 
 tribution of food, and the other physical requirements 
 of man, is termed political economy; and the ultima- 
 tum of that science is, " How may the greatest physi- 
 cal good be procured for the greatest number? " 
 
 This ultimatum is not arbitrary, as some would 
 almost have us suppose; it is the necessary end of the 
 science if that science have any existence. Just as 
 we are necessarily led to view the surface of the earth 
 in its function of sustaining vegetable life, and the 
 vegetable kingdom in its function of sustaining animal 
 life ; so are we led by the very laws of our intelligence to 
 posit the physical benefit of mankind as the ultimatum 
 to which all economical arrangements should tend, 
 if they do not depart from the very intention which 
 is the ground and origin of their existence. 
 
 But political economy is a mere computation of 
 antecedences and sequences: it tells what results follow 
 certain conditions ; and, generalizing its facts, it at 
 last arrives at the laws which regulate the physical 
 
 76 
 
condition of man, so far as that condition Is the con- 
 sequence of human action. The utmost that it can tell 
 is, " what means lead to a certain end ; '* but being 
 based purely on observation, it can never lay on us a 
 duty, nor deter us from a crime. Even In its ultima- 
 tum, it can only say, that if men do not pursue their 
 advantage, they act irrationally, but never can It say 
 that they act criminally. It computes the mechanism 
 of human action, but never can determine the end of 
 human action. Duty and crime are terms with which 
 it has no concern, and to which it can attach no mean- 
 ing. It Is merely observational, and must confine 
 Itself as a science to the generalization of facts, while, 
 when taken as a practical rule of action. Its sphere 
 extends no further than the physical wellbeing of man- 
 kind ; and the " benefit of the greatest number " is 
 fixed on, not from any idea of moral duty, but merely 
 because that ultimatum exhibits the greatest quantity. 
 In no sense is this science one iota more moral than 
 astronomy, which furnishes the practical rule of navi- 
 gation, or geometry, which furnishes the practical 
 rule of mensuration. To confound it with duty, is 
 essentially to destroy its character as an inductive 
 science. 
 
 Human physiology is the last, the highest, and the 
 most complex of all the physical sciences. It is the 
 termination of man's intellectual labors, so far as re- 
 gards the universe of matter. It Is the ultimatum of 
 material manifestation, the final type of complex ar- 
 rangement, the summit beyond which we leave the 
 material world, and enter Into a new region of thought. 
 Nor Is it merely a metaphor to say, that " man is the 
 epitome of the world." Every science that precedes 
 human physiology is necessary to the complete under- 
 standing of the human frame. But granting that 
 
 77 
 
human physiology is the last and most complex of all 
 the physical sciences, has man no further region into 
 which he may push his inquiries, and extend the field 
 of intellectual research? 
 
 Man has his functions — ^What are their laws? 
 
 The most simple functions of man, and those which 
 naturally fall to be considered first, are those in which 
 he acts on the external world. 
 
 First, Man may act on the physical world that sur- 
 rounds him. 
 
 Second, Man may act on man. 
 
 The principles involved in man's action on man are 
 included under the term social science and politics, 
 when those terms are taken in a general significa- 
 tion. 
 
 Social science is divided into two embranchments; 
 namely, political economy, the object-noun of which 
 is social utility; and politics proper, the object-noun 
 of which is equity. 
 
 The problem of politics is to discover the laws (prin- 
 ciples of the reason) which ought to preside over 
 human actions in the matter of interference. 
 
 In both sciences human actions are the substantives 
 with which we reason. In endeavoring to determine 
 the present position of man in his knowledge of politi- 
 cal economy and politics, we must premise that we 
 here approach the region where superstition and not 
 science prevails. 
 
 Knowledge is credence based on sufficient evidence, 
 and superstition is credence without sufficient evi- 
 dence. 
 
 In the very same order, and to the very same extent, 
 and at the same chronological period that the sciences 
 have appeared, has superstition gradually retired, and 
 taken her new stand in those fields of thought where 
 
 78 
 
the reason of mankind had not yet beheld the divine 
 light of truth. 
 
 The whole realm of political science is as yet little 
 better than a superstition. 
 
 To observe the manner in which men legislate (and 
 legislators, be they who they may, are only men), we 
 should naturally be led to the conclusion, that there 
 was no truth and no falsehood in political science. 
 
 Truth, in fact, has almost as little to do with legis- 
 lation as it had with alchemy or astrology; and this 
 is the case whatever may be the real matter of truth. 
 Whenever there is no truth to rest upon, there can 
 only be error or superstition. 
 
 Every proper science has an object-noun, and the 
 exclusive end and intention of the science is to dis- 
 cover and reduce to logical order the relations that 
 exist between the substantives of the science in that 
 object-noun. Thus, arithmetic treats of relations in 
 number; geometry, of relations in space (position, 
 direction, and extent) ; dynamics, of relations in 
 force, etc. 
 
 Political economy then treats of relations in social 
 utility, and we ask, " What are the relations of this, 
 that, and the other action, or system of action, in 
 social utility?" The answer to this question belongs 
 exclusively to the science of political economy. The 
 same action may be judged in social utility, or in 
 equity ; in the former case we are engaged with a ques- 
 tion of political economy ; in the latter, with a question 
 of politics. Endless ambiguities and discussions arise 
 from confounding the one science with the other. 
 
 2d. We now ask, " With what do we reason? what 
 are the substantives of the science?" 
 
 We reason with human actions in social utility. 
 Social utility is the object-noun of the science, and the 
 
 79 
 
forms of human action are the subject-nouns, which 
 are to be named, classed, and reasoned with. 
 
 Wherever human action is not involved, there is no 
 political economy. Whatever results from the general 
 action of the laws of the non-human universe, does 
 not belong to political economy except just in so far 
 as they are effected by human action. The fertility 
 of the soil produced by human industry, the production 
 of iron, the cultivation, manufacture, and commerce of 
 cotton, wheat, tea, sugar, sheep, cattle, wool, etc., etc. 
 — all these enter into political economy, because they 
 represent certain forms of human action, which have 
 an appreciable value in social utility. 
 
 Political economy, then, is the science that treats 
 of human function. Where human function is not in- 
 volved, we are not engaged with political economy. 
 But then there is a limitation on the other hand. Polit- 
 ical economy is a non-moral science, and in no case 
 can be allowed to pronounce a moral judgment. All 
 that it can ever tell us is, whether certain actions or 
 systems of actions are beneficial, indifferent, or preju- 
 dicial; and when the terms right and wrong, ought, 
 etc., are employed they are used to indicate correctness 
 or incorrectness in social utility. 
 
 Acts of interference, whether by law, or merely by 
 the individual, belong properly to the science of poli- 
 tics, but they may also be legitimately judged of 
 through the medium of political economy. By treat- 
 ing a question of interference by the rules of equity, 
 we arrive at once at a conclusion ; whereas, when it 
 is treated by the rules of utility, it may require many 
 years, many observations, and many disputations as to 
 facts, before a conclusion can be drawn. The equity 
 of the slave trade is a question so simple, that few 
 intelligent men could fail to settle it satisfactorily in 
 
 80 
 
a few minutes ; but the economy of the trade would 
 require, and did require, many years to settle it, and 
 even now there are not wanting hundreds who, on 
 economical principles, would defend both the trade 
 and the condition of slavery. Although perfect knowl- 
 edge in both sciences would no doubt lead to exactly 
 the same practical conclusion, the argument of econ- 
 omy is sometimes set up against the argument of 
 equity. The concise reply to such a mode of proceed- 
 ing is this, " If equity have any existence at all, its 
 rules are necessarily imperative." Deny the impera- 
 tive nature of equity and you obliterate all morals,* 
 
 Now, where there is no interference between man and 
 man, no judgment in equity can possibly be pro- 
 nounced. Where there is no interference (and noth- 
 ing that enters religion) economy gives the canon, she 
 holds the balance, and pronounces judgment because 
 the question belongs to the jurisdiction of her court. 
 But where there is interference we can have a judg- 
 ment in equity; and where we can have a judgment in 
 equity, no economical considerations whatever can ever 
 relieve man from the imperative obligation. The mo- 
 ment it was admitted that economical considerations 
 should outweigh the judgment in equity, that moment 
 is man's moral nature obliterated, and he becomes an 
 animal a little superior to the ourang-outang. 
 
 We now return to the mode in which political econ- 
 omy is usually presented. 
 
 According to some writers, we should imagine that 
 utility was measured according to the wealth pro- 
 duced. Value, labor, capital, wages, profit, rent, etc., 
 are the substantives of their science; and the produc- 
 
 * It is true, however, that the argumment of economy has a 
 far more powerful influence on the world than the argument of 
 equity. 
 
 81 
 
tion of wealth appears to be the end, the sum and 
 substance, the object of their desires. 
 
 We deny, from beginning to end, this view of polit- 
 ical economy. It has some truth in it — the beginnings 
 of truth; but such, in the general, is no more the end 
 of political economy than the determination of the 
 chances in gambling was the end of the calculation of 
 probabilities. 
 
 We assert — and we have no doubt whatever that this 
 view will ultimately obtain the suffrages of all — that 
 the welfare of man is the end of political economy. 
 
 To this it may be replied, that the production of 
 wealth is the means ; and that all economics intend to 
 include the welfare of man as a matter of course. 
 
 We deny the whole theory from beginning to end. 
 
 We assert that the production of man, and man in 
 a continually higher condition, is the object, the end, 
 the ultimatum of the science. 
 
 Let us suppose that one thousand families were em- 
 ployed in the cultivation of one hundred thousand 
 acres of land ; that they lived, maintained themselves 
 in decent plenty, reared their families in health, in- 
 dustry, honesty, and those manly qualities which, 
 among the agricultural population of Great Britain, 
 have assumed a higher character than in any other 
 portion of the earth's inhabitants. Suppose that this 
 population produce only as much as suffices for the 
 plentiful support of all the individuals. Good. There 
 is not, on the average of twenty years, any superabun- 
 dance that can be called accumulated profit. 
 
 This population, according to some political econ- 
 omists, would be a most unproductive, most useless 
 portion of society. 
 
 We deny the fact. This population has reared and 
 produced men. 
 
 82 
 
Suppose, again, the great body of this population 
 should be set to spin cotton, smelt iron, grind cutlery, 
 and weave stockings. That at these occupations, by 
 incessant toil, they should produce not only as much 
 as support them, but one-half more. According to 
 political economists, these occupations would be in- 
 comparably more profitable than the agricultural oc- 
 cupations, and consequently much better for society. 
 
 We deny the fact, and scout the inference. The 
 production of man, and of man in his best condition, 
 is the physical ultimatum of the earth; and any sys- 
 tem whatever that sacrifices the workman to the work 
 — the man who produces the wealth to the wealth 
 produced — is a monstrous system of misdirected in- 
 tention, based on a blasphemy against man's spiritual 
 nature. 
 
 The whole system of modern manufacture, with its 
 factory slavery; Its gaunt and sallow faces; its half- 
 clad hunger; its female degradation; its abortions and 
 rickety children ; its dens of pestilence and abomination ; 
 its ignorance, brutality, and drunkenness; its vice, 
 in all the hideous forms of infidelity, hopeless poverty, 
 and mad despair, — these, and, if it were possible, 
 worse than these, are the sure fruits of making man 
 the workman of mammon, instead of making wealth 
 the servant of humanity for the relief of man's estate. 
 
 The day is not far distant when the Labor of Eng- 
 land will hold her court of justice; let those who 
 may await the sentence of the tribunal. 
 
 That system of political economy which makes 
 wealth and not man, the ultimatum, is based on a 
 monstrous fallacy — on a fallacy so slavish and so de- 
 testable, that the wonder is how accomplished and per- 
 sonally amiable men can be found as its abettors. 
 
 The fallacy is, in taking the rents of the landlords, 
 
 83 
 
and the profits of the capitalists, as the measures of 
 good and evil, instead of taking the condition of the 
 cultivators, and the condition of the laborers (the 
 many), as the sure index of the character of a system. 
 
 Whatever tends to debase man, to make him phys- 
 ically, intellectually, or morally a lower being, is bad, 
 however much or however little the wealth produced 
 may be.* The wealth is not the stable element; it is 
 an accidental, and by no means the most important 
 adjunct. Man is the stable element. His condition is 
 the standard ; his improvement is a good ; his de- 
 terioration is an evil. And this, independently of all 
 other considerations. All other considerations are 
 secondary, dependent, subsidiary to the great inten- 
 tion. Man is not useful as he produces wealth, but 
 wealth is useful as it sustains man, ameliorates his 
 condition, improves his capacities, gives opportunities 
 for his further cultivation, and aids his progress in 
 the great scheme of human regeneration. 
 
 Such views, then, of political economy as make 
 wealth the ultimatum (and this wealth, be it always 
 remembered, is the wealth of the land-owner, the 
 mill-owner, the iron-master, etc., and not the wealth 
 of the multitude of human laborers), are merely the 
 beginnings of the science of political economy. This 
 
 *The distribution of wealth is a question of incomparably- 
 more importance than even its production. This appears a 
 paradox. It is not so, however. Tlie strong individual appro- 
 priates more than his equitable share at the expense of the 
 weak individual; and all privileged classes are merely classes of 
 individuals who have obtained more land, or more power, or 
 more license than equitably could have been assigned to them. 
 The laws of distribution are of incomparably more practical 
 importance than the laws of production, and the public mind 
 will not allow many years to elapse without bringing them to 
 vehement discussion. 
 
 84 
 
science, like every other, must pass through its stages ; 
 it must have its errors, its superstitions, its partial 
 truths, its truths misunderstood, before it comes forth 
 as a system over which man has no power of control, 
 but which he must contemplate as a system of truth 
 designed by the Creator of the world for the instruc- 
 tion of his intellect, and the improvement of his con- 
 dition. 
 
 Political economy is now struggling to assume a 
 position among the sciences. It is daily growing, 
 daily assuming a more definite form, and daily shaking 
 off those questions that do not belong to it. 
 
 We must also remark, that the natural science of 
 political economy has labored under the immense dis- 
 advantage of collecting facts which were not the re- 
 sult of nature's operations, but which were, in a great 
 measure, the result of human legislation, which varied 
 from time to time, and from country to country. 
 
 There is the greatest possible difference between 
 taking advantage of the laws of nature, and originat- 
 ing laws. It is not man's office to originate laws. God 
 has made the laws, and given man an intellect to dis- 
 cover and apply them. As well may man make laws 
 in the physical sciences, or in theology, as in political 
 economy. It is true he may make laws, and enforce 
 them ; but what he never can do is, to make the opera- 
 tion of those laws beneficial to the world. This is 
 beyond his power ; and, though the laws may be for 
 the pecuniary advantage of the privileged classes of a 
 country, they are necessarily followed by a concomit- 
 ant series of evils, which bear on the masses of the 
 population. 
 
 The great truth which political economy will ulti- 
 mately teach Is this, " That God has constituted na- 
 ture aright ; that it is man's interest to take advantage 
 
 85 
 
of the arrangements of nature according to the laws 
 which God has established in the world; that all hu- 
 man laws originating in man are prejudicial arrange- 
 ments, which interfere with the course of nature; that 
 all such laws ought universally to be abolished, so that 
 man may have free scope to extract the maximum of 
 benefit from the earth." Social arrangements for the 
 benefit of all are not laws — they are adaptations of 
 the laws of nature. These are requisite for society; 
 and to these arrangements, legislation, in its econom- 
 ical aspect, ought to be exclusively confined. 
 
 When men make lighthouses for the protection of 
 maritime commerce — public harbors for the safety of 
 ships, seamen, and cargoes — when they make a police 
 to watch — when they pave, light, and clean towns — 
 when they make roads and arrangements for communi- 
 cations — when they support such national defences as 
 are judged requisite at any given time — when they 
 support judges and other officers to administer the 
 laws of justice — when they do these, and many other 
 similar acts, at the common expense, and enforce the 
 payment, they do not make laws. They make only 
 such arrangements, based on the laws of nature or 
 equity, as are deemed fitting at a given period; they 
 take advantage of the world, such as they find it, and 
 endeavor to evolve from it a greater amount of good 
 than they could do individually were there no such 
 social arrangements. Men may make laws if they 
 will ; but what they cannot do is, to make good to fol- 
 low them. 
 
 From political economy we turn to politics. Be- 
 fore doing so, however, we must remark that no 
 science of politics, whatever be its form, or whatever 
 be its matter, can hope to meet with impartial investi- 
 gation. Whatever may be the real system of truth 
 
 86 
 
(and a truth there must be somewhere), that system 
 cannot fail to controvert the opinion of multitudes and 
 to be favorable or unfavorable to the pecuniary inter- 
 ests of multitudes. 
 
 Admit the fact of human progression, however (nor 
 can it reasonably be denied), and all the objections, 
 and all the difficulties connected with the habitual cre- 
 dence of a present generation, vanish into air. Let po- 
 litical truth be what it may, it cannot receive general 
 adoption at any period. It must grow ; it must be sug- 
 gested, misunderstood, denied, discussed, adopted in 
 part, rejected in part, re-discussed, further adopted, 
 and so on. 
 
 Doubts, disputes, denials, andi diversity of opinion, 
 therefore, are of little Importance. They are natural; 
 they must come. They are the modes in which man 
 expresses his ignorance, and frequently the means he 
 uses to acquire knowledge and determine truth. Where 
 there is diversity of opinion, there must be ignorance 
 on one side or on both ; and bold would be the man who, 
 in politics, should assert that he had so completely 
 mastered all truth, that all other men ought to come 
 over to his side. And yet there must be a truth some- 
 where; and, as knowledge does not admit 'of diversity 
 of opinion, if ever man can have a system of politics 
 other than empirical, other than superstitious, diver- 
 sity of opinion must disappear from politics, just as it 
 has disappeared from the sciences which man has al- 
 ready mastered. 
 
 Politics has to do exclusively with the relations be- 
 tween men, and to determine the principles that should 
 regulate their actions towards each other. Where in- 
 terference is not concerned, there is no question in 
 politics. This, then, is the anterior limitation of the 
 science. 
 
 87 
 
We have, now, to determine the posterior boundary 
 — that which separates it from any science that might 
 lie beyond it. 
 
 This posterior limit is likely — from the prevalence 
 of socialist and communist doctrines — to become the 
 great desideratum of political theory. Those doc- 
 trines, whatever may be the contempt heaped on them 
 in England, are far more generally diffused than most 
 Englishmen are aware of. They are now revolution- 
 izing Europe ; and no one can predict the extent of the 
 changes that must follow them, if once they gain the 
 complete mastery of the public mind. Instead of rail- 
 ing at them, however, it is much more profitable to en- 
 deavor to understand them, and to seize the fallacy 
 on which they are based. 
 
 It is true that men are brethren, the children of one 
 Father ; it is true that universal benevolence is a virtue ; 
 it is true that man ought not to seek his own advan- 
 tage at the expense of his fellow; it is true that in the 
 present system of society there are stupendous abuses 
 which cannot be justified. And it is also true that 
 socialism and communism are based on fallacies, al- 
 though the above truths are ostensibly at the bottom 
 of those systems ; no dogmas that have ever been ut- 
 tered are more communist than some precepts of the 
 New Testament. 
 
 All that we have here to do with communism, is to 
 point out the fallacy on which it rests, when advanced, 
 as it is, into the region of politics. This fallacy will 
 be found the moment we can determine the posterior 
 limitation of the science of politics. We cannot turn 
 the torrent of credence that has set in; but it may be 
 possible to give it a right direction. 
 
 Political relations are not relations of fraternity. 
 Love, charity, benevolence, and generosity have noth- 
 
 88 
 
mg whatever to do with politics. These substantives, 
 and the principles of action to which they give rise, lie 
 beyond the region of politics. This they do necessa- 
 rily, just as necessarily as light and sound, optics and 
 acoustics, lie necessarily beyond the region of geome- 
 try. Unless this truth is fairly apprehended, and un- 
 less the line of demarcation between politics and the 
 regions that lie beyond it is logically determined and 
 clearly perceived, there is a continual danger of sliding 
 imperceptibly into socialism. Whatever may be true, 
 or whatever may be false, in socialism (using that 
 term in the most unobjectionable sense — Christian 
 socialism, for instance), the principles of equity must 
 first be taken into consideration before we can, by any 
 possibility, proceed to the consideration of those higher 
 principles of action which may come into play, when 
 once the principles of justice are acknowledged and 
 carried into general operation. 
 
 This question is perhaps, practically, the most im- 
 portant in modern politics. Insurged millions let loose 
 on the world, with vague ideas of fraternity in their 
 heads, with the courage of enthusiasm in their hearts, 
 and with bayonets in their hands, are, at all events, 
 formidable expositors of doctrine. Their energy is ex- 
 actly what the continent of Europe has so long re- 
 quired ; but their ignorance may transform what would 
 otherwise have been a most useful reformation, into a 
 terrible hurricane of vengeance, and a blind exercise 
 of destructive power. Now that the theorist and the 
 orator can raise armed millions, the game of politics 
 has assumed a new character. Theories are no longer 
 barren speculations, nor is oratory mere declamation. 
 It is, therefore, of the first importance that the most 
 cheerful, impartial, and honest endeavor should be 
 made to perfect the theory of politics — to base first 
 
 89 
 
on the immutable foundations of justice — to satisfy 
 the reason before setting the passions in a flame — to 
 evolve principles which can be calmly and soberly main- 
 tained by the intellect, before they are given as rules 
 of action to enthusiastic populations, ready to march 
 in any direction that is plausibly pointed out as the 
 right one. 
 
 We have no intention, however, to attempt the cor- 
 rection of wrong theories. Wrong theories may be 
 supplanted, but it is questionable whether they are 
 ever corrected. The development of the right theory 
 is the great object. It will do the work if once it can 
 be finally cleared of all logical objection. Men want 
 political truth, and they are making desperate efforts 
 to obtain it; and obtain it they will ultimately, there 
 can be no possible doubt. 
 
 Political relations, so far from being relations of 
 fraternity, or of love, or of any of those sentiments 
 that teach us to bear or to forbear, to give or to for- 
 give, are relations of equity. They are relations of 
 justice, which gives nothing, and forgives nothing. 
 They are jural relations, and political society is a 
 jural society. 
 
 The moment this ti*uth is forgotten, the door is 
 opened for the wildest and most impracticable schemes. 
 We have, in fact, broken down the barriers of reason, 
 and admitted a flood of wild imagination. We must 
 carefully deny admission to any propositions whatever 
 which cannot show a rational foundation, because they 
 pretend to derive from the higher and more expansive 
 sentiments of the heart. Nothing can be more delusive, 
 nothing more certainly dangerous. Justice is stable, 
 permanent, and strictly regulative. Its rules must 
 determine the form of society, a form which may at all 
 times be enforced. And if, as is the case in all known 
 
 90 
 
countries, that form shall have been departed from, 
 then force may be legitimately used for its restoration. 
 
 The moment, however, that we attempt to substitute 
 the relations of benevolence for those of justice, both 
 the scales and the sword fall from the hands of the 
 image. Benevolence can regulate nothing, and enforce 
 nothing. First let me know what is mine, and then 
 inculcate the duties and the pleasures of benevolence. 
 But if nothing is mine, then is there not only no jus- 
 tice, but no possibility of benevolence. The moment 
 property is abolished that moment is the practice of 
 benevolence (such, at all events, as involves the objects 
 of property) abolished also. The foundation, there- 
 fore, of political society on benevolence is suicidal; the 
 only possibility of benevolence being the admission that 
 something Is mine (service or property) which I may 
 lawfully give, lawfully withhold, but which I may 
 choose to give if I please, when actuated by benevo- 
 lence. 
 
 Love, benevolence, charity, fraternity, therefore, 
 cannot enter a system of politics. No human society 
 could be founded on them that attempts to regulate 
 the distribution of natural property, and the allocation 
 of that increased value which is created by the labor of 
 individuals. Love may, to a certain extent, reign in a 
 family ; but in a state composed of a multitude of inde- 
 pendent (although social) individuals, each producing 
 according to his skill, energy, perseverance, and acci- 
 dental opportunities, justice must be the regulative 
 principle, without which the society falls either under 
 the hand of tyranny, or falls into the equally destruc- 
 tive condition of anarchy and confusion. 
 
 We posit, therefore, that political society is a so^ 
 clety whose essence, end, and Intention is to exhibit, 
 in realization, the principles of equity or justice. 
 
 91 
 
Although, however, benevolence has nothing to do 
 with politics, it has much to do with man. And as it 
 does lie beyond politics, its laws, whatever they are, 
 or wherever they may be derived from, will fall to be 
 considered at some period or other. Towards them the 
 world is progressing, and after a reign of justice there 
 will fall, in necessary order, a reign of benevolence. 
 
 But if politics be the science of justice, and justice 
 does not admit the idea of benevolence, that idea be- 
 ing necessarily posterior to justice, what is the radical 
 distinction between justice and benevolence, and where 
 is the line of demarcation that separates them? 
 
 That line of demarcation is found in the distinction 
 between the negative and the positive. 
 
 A very simple consideration will place in a clear 
 enough light the difference between the negative char- 
 acter of justice, and the positive character of benevo- 
 lence. 
 
 If all men were socially passive, and did not in any- 
 wise interfere with each other, there would be the 
 perfection of justice, while there might be the total 
 absence of benevolence. 
 
 No rule of justice can ever originate an interference. 
 All interference based on justice is consequential; 
 that is, the consequence of a prior act of interference, 
 which requires to be corrected. All primary in- 
 terference, contrary to the will of the person interfered 
 with (he being of sound mind, sober, etc.), is an in- 
 justice. The essential character of injustice consists 
 in the forcible interference of one man with another; 
 nor is any man justified in constraining another to 
 receive even a benefit (or what nine hundred and ninety 
 men out of a thousand would pronounce a benefit) 
 against his will. The essential character of injustice 
 is, the overbearing of one man's will by another man's 
 
 92 
 
force or fraud. And no rule or principle of equity 
 can ever originate such an interference. 
 
 The whole scheme of justice, therefore, is essentially 
 and radically restrictive, and all its positive rules, or 
 rules which justify or command interference, will be 
 found to consist of those which justify the restoration 
 of things to that condition in which they would have 
 been had there been no interference. That is, whenever 
 the negative state of non-interference has been de- 
 parted from, and the equilibrium of equity destroyed, 
 justice furnishes rules for positive interference, 
 whereby the negative state may be restored, and the 
 equilibrium of equity re-established. But this in no- 
 wise affects the assertion, that the principles of jus- 
 tice, and the scheme of the science, are entirely restric- 
 tive; because, let all society be in the negative state 
 of non-interference, and it would remain so forever 
 were the rules of justice attended to. 
 
 Benevolence, on the contrary, supposes that men 
 shall be socially active; not that they shall interfere 
 with each other without consent, but that they shall' 
 take a constant interest in each other's welfare, and be 
 ready to offer the helping hand of sympathy when 
 sorrows fall upon their brethren. Benevolence cannot 
 infringe justice, it only superadds more than justice 
 could require. 
 
 Such a condition of society, then, as would be com- 
 patible with the perfection of justice, might exclude 
 benevolence altogether. Consequently, justice and be- 
 nevolence are radically distinguished from each other; 
 and politics, which is the science of justice, is inde- 
 pendent of benevolence. 
 
 Here, then, we learn the posterior limit of the science 
 of politics. 
 
 Where there is no question of interference between 
 
 93 
 
man and man, there is no question of politics. This is 
 the anterior limit, that which separates it from all that 
 comes before it; from political economy, the physical 
 sciences, and the mathematical sciences. 
 
 And the posterior limit is found in the fact, that 
 the science is confined exclusively to the exhibition of 
 the laws relating to such interference as is consequent 
 on a departure from the state of non-interference, and 
 to the exhibition of the laws (intuitions of the reason) 
 which prohibit all primary interference. [The latter, 
 of course, come logically first in the exposition of the 
 science.] 
 
 Having, then, determined the limits of the science 
 of politics, we affirm (from the preceding data) that 
 its position is immediately after the science of political 
 economy, and that it is followed by the laws of benevo- 
 lence, wherever these may be derived from. 
 
 94 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 THE THEORY OF MEN's PRACTICAL PROGRESSION 
 
 WE have now to make good our argument 
 that there is a natural probability in favor 
 of a millennium, or reign of justice. We 
 maintain that man has, within the range of his natural 
 knowledge, sufficient means for determining, that if the 
 course of human history continue ordinated on the 
 same principles that may be inferred from a considera- 
 tion of the past and present, then in the future there 
 must come a time when justice shall be the regulative 
 principle of the earth, and man shall carry it into sys- 
 tematic and universal operation. 
 
 After all that has been said of the millennium, we 
 cannot help thinking that there is a peculiar satisfac- 
 tion in finding that nature, history, and reason con- 
 tribute to authenticate the promise. 
 
 To condense the argument we posit, that human 
 progression is from logic and the mathematical sci- 
 ences, through the physical sciences, and up to man- 
 science. 
 
 Man-science has four functions: 
 
 Action on the external world. 
 Action on man, without interference. 
 Action on man by interference. 
 Actions towards the Divine Being. 
 
 The second class of functions gives rise to political 
 economy, which furnishes the rule of correct action. 
 
 95 
 
The third class to politics. 
 
 The fourth class to religion, the scientific ground- 
 work of which is theology. 
 
 Correct knowledge is the only means whereby cor- 
 rect action can be performed. In advancing, there- 
 fore, the probability of a millennium in politics, we 
 must, of course, imply that a millennium in other de- 
 partments has actually taken place, or is now taking 
 place. And this we do. The definition of a millen- 
 nium is, for us, not any period of time, but a period 
 of truth discovered and reduced to practice. And con- 
 sequently, when we speak of a political millennium, we 
 speak of a period when political truth shall be discov- 
 ered and be reduced to practice; and such a period 
 we maintain to be within the bounds of rational antici- 
 pation. 
 
 What, in fact, is the problem of politics? To dis- 
 cover the laws which should regulate men In the matter 
 of interference. When those laws are discovered, po- 
 litical truth is discovered. What reason can possibly be 
 alleged for asserting that the laws which should regu- 
 late men in the matter of interference are not as much 
 within the reach of the human intellect as the laws 
 which should regulate the merchant in carrying on his 
 commercial transactions? It is plainly evident that 
 man, being the most complex of all the objects that 
 inhabit the earth, must be the last whose phenomena 
 are subjected to analysis. Let the sciences be classed 
 as they may, man, and man's functions, must always 
 be placed at the extreme end of the scale of natural 
 knowledge, i. e., of a description of the various steps 
 of the course which the human race must take In its 
 passage to an equitable condition of society ; and these 
 must be looked for in the evolution of the sciences one 
 after another. Each new science is not only a revela- 
 
 96 
 
tion to the intellect, but a new power for performing 
 things which could not othenvise have been done; in 
 fact, a new sceptre for man to rule the world, and to 
 bend its elements in obedience to his will. 
 
 Let us again repeat, that knowledge is the only 
 means given to man to evolve correct action ; and that 
 correct action is the only means whereby man can 
 evolve a correct, and consequently beneficial condition. 
 Let us also note well, that knowledge does not admit 
 of diversity of opinion ; that where knowledge is really 
 attained and properly substantiated, uniformity of 
 credence is its constant and necessary result; and con- 
 sequently, wherever we find diversity of opinion, we 
 have a region where knowledge is not yet attained, or 
 where it is not yet met with general acceptance. 
 
 Let us now ask, what is the essence of that ultimate 
 condition of man, expressed for brevity's sake by the 
 word millennium? — A period when truth is discovered, 
 acknowledged, and carried into practical operation. 
 
 A millennium is a condition of society in which man 
 shall evolve the maximum of good by acting correctly. 
 And man can act correctly only where he has ac- 
 quired knowledge. The moment, then, we ascertain the 
 order in which knowledge must be acquired, we learn 
 the scheme of human improvement, and ascertain the 
 general outline of his course, in his passage from igno- 
 rance, poverty, and depravity, towards knowledge, 
 prosperity, and virtuous action. 
 
 Therefore, the past history of human progress 
 must supply us with the beginning of the natural mil- 
 lennium ; and these beginnings we must look for in the 
 sciences that have been already discovered and reduced 
 to practice. 
 
 A political millennium will come, but it will come 
 only because it forms a portion of the still greater 
 
 97 
 
scheme of human improvement, — of the more general 
 millennium, that involves all human knowledge and all 
 human operations. 
 
 Consequently, wherever we have truth discovered 
 and carried into practical operation, we have a mil- 
 lennium in that department of knowledge. 
 
 All scientific truth is the intellect of the creature ap- 
 prehending correctly the divine arrangements of the 
 created. 
 
 All science therefore is divine, and divine, not in the 
 sense of pantheism, but in the sense of its being the 
 correlative object created in harmony with the human 
 reason. Science is the object of reason, and reality is 
 the object of science; and both reason and reality are 
 the productions of the divine Creator. Reason on the 
 one hand, and reality on the other, are the correlatives 
 of creation, and science is the middle term that unites 
 them; reality giving the matter of science, and reason 
 giving the form. Knowledge, therefore, is the divine 
 intention ; and all the sciences may be viewed, not as 
 human acquisitions, but as fulfilments of the divine 
 purpose in creating an intellect to comprehend, and an 
 object to be comprehended. 
 
 Immediately, then, that we admit science to be not 
 merely human, science acquires a new character. It 
 becomes the exponent of humanity, and points out the 
 order of human progression. We have here a sure 
 basis of operation, a foundation on which the reason 
 may at last rest in constructing its philosophy of man. 
 Science is stable. It shifts not with opinion, and 
 changes not with lapse of ages. Were all knowledge 
 obliterated, and man to begin to-morrow a new course 
 of research, he could come only to the same truths and 
 to the same sciences ; and those sciences would evolve in 
 
 98 
 
a similar order, were the experiment to take place a 
 hundred or a thousand times. 
 
 We must now inquire how the dogma of knowledge 
 is efficient to produce an amended condition of man 
 upon the globe. 
 
 Every science has a millennium; that is, a period 
 when its truths are discovered, acknowledged, and car- 
 ried into practical operation. 
 
 First come the mathematical sciences. A mathemat- 
 ical millennium takes place when mathematical truth 
 is discovered, and reduced to practical operation. 
 Mathematical science is the foundation of man's in- 
 tellectual and practical progress, and the region of 
 mathematics is the first region in which a natural mil- 
 lennium takes place. Without mathematics we have 
 no astronomy, no geography, no measurement of time, 
 and no systematic navigation, worthy of the name. 
 That is, we have in those departments ignorance or 
 superstition, instead of knowledge. 
 
 Next to a mathematical millennium is a mechanical 
 millennium. The mathematical sciences are absolutely 
 essential to the evolution of mechanics, and mechanical 
 knowledge is absolutely necessary to enable man to 
 turn the earth to the best account. One of the first 
 great spheres of mechanical operation 'is "locomo- 
 tion." 
 
 Let us consider that the earth, as constituted, per- 
 mits only of locomotion under certain conditions. It 
 is possible for man to have a maximum of locomotive 
 facility. A certain speed will be found beyond which 
 we lose in safety, and below which we lose in celerity 
 without gaining in safety. And this applies to all 
 systems of locomotion. The problem, then, is to dis- 
 cover the best system ; that which combines the maxi- 
 
 99 
 
mum of celerity with the minimum of danger. And 
 when we have made as near an approach to this as the 
 circumstances of the earth permit of, we have a loco- 
 motive millennium. 
 
 We have said enough to show the direct bearing 
 of science on the improvement of man's condition on 
 the globe. Knowledge is obtained, an improved sys- 
 tem of action is consequently generated, and from that 
 improved system of action an improved condition arises 
 as the necessary result. 
 
 But then, how comes it that, notwithstanding man's 
 vast achievements, his wonderful efforts of mechanical 
 ingenuity, and the amazing productions of his skill, 
 his own condition in a social capacity should not have 
 improved in the same ratio as the improvement 'of his 
 condition in regard to the material world. In Britain, 
 man has to a great extent beaten the material world, 
 and, notwithstanding this, a large portion of the popu- 
 lation is reduced to pauperism, to that fearful state 
 of dependence in which man finds himself a blot on the 
 universe of God — a wretch thrown up by the waves of 
 time, without a use, and without an end, homeless in 
 the presence of the firmament, and helpless in the face 
 of creation. 
 
 We do not believe that pauperism comes from God. 
 It is man's doing, and man's doing alone. God has 
 abundantly supplied men with all the requisite means 
 of support ; and when he cannot find support we must 
 look not to the arrangements of the almighty God, 
 but to the arrangements of men and to the order in 
 which they have portioned out the earth. Charge the 
 poverty of men on God is to blaspheme the Creator. 
 He has given enough, abundance, more than sufficient; 
 and if man has not enough, we must look to the mode 
 in which God's gifts have been distributed. There 
 
 100 
 
IS enough, enough for all, abundantly enough; and all 
 that is requisite is freedom to labor on the soil, and 
 to extract from it the produce that God intended for 
 man's support. 
 
 And what is the cause of human pauperism and 
 human degradation? for the two go hand in hand. It 
 is because the social arrangements of men have been 
 made by superstition, and not by knowledge. The 
 sciences, we have shown, lead to an amended order of 
 action, and an amended order of action leads to an 
 amended and improved condition* But we must have 
 knowledge in the department in which we require the 
 condition to be amended. That is, mechanical knowl- 
 edge improves man's mechanical condition, as regards 
 his power over external nature; agricultural knowl- 
 edge his agricultural condition ; chemical knowledge 
 his chemical condition ; and so forth. But social knowl- 
 edge — that is, social science — is absolutely requisite 
 before we can labor intelligently to improve man's 
 social condition. These are the conditions under which 
 man tenants the globe. Every department of nature, 
 and of man's phenomenology, has its laws ; and if 
 those laws are infringed, evil is the immediate, invari- 
 able, and necessary result. And if man's social con- 
 dition is evil; if we find at one end of society a few 
 thousands of individuals with enormous wealth, for 
 which they work not, and never have worked, and at 
 the other end of society millions belonging to the same 
 country, and born on the same soil, with barely the 
 necessaries of life, and too often in abject destitution 
 — there is no other conclusion possible than that this 
 poverty arises from man's social arrangements, and 
 that poor the mass of the population must remain until 
 those arrangements are rectified by knowledge. 
 
 If Englishmen discover that pauperism and wretch- 
 101 
 
edness are unnecessary; that the Divine Being never 
 intended such things; that the degradation of the 
 laboring population, their moral degradation conse- 
 quent on poverty, is the curse of the laws and not of 
 nature, — does any man suppose that Englishmen 
 would not be justified in abolishing such laws, or that 
 they will not abolish them? Can we believe for a mo- 
 ment, that if any arrangement would enable the popu- 
 lation to find plenty, that such an arrangement will 
 not be made? If any man believe this, he is at all 
 events willing to be credulous. For ourselves, we be- 
 lieve it not. 
 
 There are hundreds of thousands of persons in this 
 country who are not earning above 7s. to 10s. per 
 week, even when they have constant employment. 
 
 With this a man brings up a family and educates 
 his children. His life is a life of stern economy, and 
 he faces it like a man. He respects himself, and 
 feels that he has a right to be respected. He does 
 manage to live like a moral being, and sometimes es- 
 capes the degradation of the poor-roll in his old age. 
 This is the best position of the laborer, the maximum 
 that the present condition of Scotland can afford to 
 the highest class of her laboring children — milk, por- 
 ridge, and potatoes, and with these he goes through 
 his life of honest independence. 
 
 But what is the minimum, what is the condition of 
 the shoals of Irish peasantry who invade the west 
 coast, and the tribes of Highlanders who have little 
 or nothing to do? What can they earn? What food 
 do they habitually use, and what is their moral exist- 
 ence? Let any one visit the Western Islands, and 
 inquire into the social condition of the inhabitants, 
 and the arrangements men have made for the destruc- 
 tion of the population. See scores of men, women, and 
 
 102 
 
children gathering shell-fish on the shore as almost 
 their only food, while the rent of the island is all ab- 
 stracted, and spent in London or elsewhere; and then 
 say if it be possible that, with such arrangements, any 
 soil, or any climate, or any profusion of natural ad- 
 vantages, would have compensated for the evil arrange- 
 ments that men have made. Does any one suppose 
 that those same Highlanders, who find a wretched sus- 
 tenance on the shore, could not, and would not, ex- 
 tract an abundant existence out of the soil of their 
 native island? The law forbids them; that is, men 
 have made such arrangements with regard to God's 
 earth, that the stable population must be reduced to 
 destitution, for the purpose of having one man en- 
 dowed with a wealth which he, perhaps, knows not 
 how to use, nor even to retain. 
 
 And we affirm, without the slightest hesitation, that 
 the very same kind of improvements that have followed 
 the mathematical and physical sciences, will follow 
 social science, and achieve in the world of man far 
 greater wonders than have yet been achieved in the 
 world of matter. It is not trade Britain wants, nor 
 more railroads, nor larger orders for cotton, nor new 
 schemes for alimenting the poor, nor loans to land- 
 lords, nor any other mercantile or economical change. 
 It is social change, — new social arrangements, made 
 on the principles of natural equity. No economical 
 measure whatever is capable of reaching the depths 
 of the social evils. Ameliorations may, no doubt, be 
 made for a time ; but the radical evil remains, still 
 generating the poison that corrupts society. 
 
 The evil is expressed in a few words; and, sooner 
 or later, the nation will appreciate it and rectify it. 
 It is " the alienation of the soil from the state, and the 
 consequent taxation of the industry of the country." 
 
 103 
 
Britain may go on producing with wonderful energy, 
 and may accomplish far more than she has yet accom- 
 plished. She may struggle as Britain only can strug- 
 gle. She may present to the world peace at home, 
 when the nations of Europe are filled with Insurrection. 
 She may lead foremost In the march of civilization, 
 and be first among the kingdoms of the earth. All 
 this she may do, and more. But as certainly as Brit- 
 ain continues her present social arrangements, so cer- 
 tainly will there come a time when — 'the other questions 
 being cleared on this side and on that side, and the 
 main question brought into the arena — ^the labor of 
 Britain will emancipate itself from thraldom. Gradu- 
 ally and surely has the separation been taking place 
 between the privileged landowner and the unprivileged 
 laborer. And the time will come at last that there 
 shall be but two parties looking each other In the 
 face, and knowing that the destruction of one Is an 
 event of necessary occurrence. That event must come. 
 Nor is It in man to stay it or to produce it. It will 
 come as the result of the laws that govern nature and 
 that govern man. 
 
 We may as well attempt mechanical Impossibilities 
 as political Impossibilities: and, notwithstanding the 
 almost universal prevalence of the current superstition 
 about the rights of landed property, we have no hesi- 
 tation in affirming that a very few years will show 
 that superstition destroyed, and the main question of 
 England's welfare brought to a serious and definite 
 discussion. 
 
 In politics there are only two main questions — first, 
 personal liberty; second, natural property. England 
 has been at work for centuries in the endeavor to settle 
 the first; and, when that is definitely settled, she will 
 give her undivided attention to the second. 
 
 104 
 
The first and most obvious requirement in a country, 
 is some degree of security for life, liberty, and prop- 
 erty. This gives birth to criminal law, the great end 
 of which is ostensibly to prevent crimes. The minor 
 proposition, "What is a crime?" requires to be deter- 
 mined on exactly the same principles as we determine 
 "What is a square.?" or, "What is the orbit of the 
 earth.?" Without this determination, made on prin- 
 ciples which are not arbitrary but scientific, law is 
 despotism; and no man in the world is morally bound 
 to obey it, except as Scripture may enjoin him to obey 
 even unjust laws. If legislatures will make arbitrary 
 crimes — that is, make actions legally criminal which 
 are not naturally criminal — no population is bound 
 to obey them. On the contrary, it becomes one of the 
 highest duties of man to resist such laws ; to use every 
 effort to procure their abolition; and, if he cannot do 
 so by reason, then do so by force. The welfare of 
 humanity demands this at the hand of every man ; and 
 the base and slavish doctrine of non-resistance is fit — 
 not for men who study truth in God's universe — but 
 for hireling sycophants, who care not what man may 
 suffer so that their vile carcases are clothed and fed. 
 The liberties we have in England are mainly owing to 
 the fact, tliat England would not tolerate the deter- 
 mination of crime by the executive rulers, but reserved 
 this for the deliberate assembly. 
 
 Ultimately connected with the theory of crime (much 
 more so than is usually imagined), is the theory of 
 natural property. The law assumed crime arbitrarily, 
 and proceeded to punish it; it assumed property arbi- 
 trarily, and proceeded to protect it. The king, who had 
 the power to make or unmake crimes, had the power to 
 dispose of the land that belonged to the state. He 
 sold or gifted it, and thus in the long run the whole 
 
 105 
 
of the lands of England, with some trifling exceptions, 
 have been alienated from the nation, and the burden 
 of taxation has been placed upon the people. Super- 
 stition (that is, unfounded credence) was at the bot- 
 tom of the king's right in both cases; and the present 
 inhabitants of the British islands are bound to observe 
 the laws, made in former times, concerning crimes and 
 property, just in so far as those laws are now equit- 
 able, or would now be re-enacted were there no laws 
 on those subjects. The present possessor of a portion 
 of land derives not one iota of present right from the 
 former gift of a defunct monarch ; and his right, to 
 be now valid, must be such, that were all his titles 
 destroyed the nation would proceed to place him in 
 possession of the lands, because he, as an individual 
 man, had an equitable claim to them. Just as, if all 
 the laws and statutes of England were destroyed, the 
 nation would proceed as usual to the arrest and pun- 
 ishment of the murderer and robber — those persons 
 being punished, not because there are laws for their 
 punishment, but because it is just that they should 
 be punished, and just that there should be laws to 
 punish. The justice of the punishment does in no case 
 derive from the law, but the whole force and validity 
 of the law derives from the justice of the punishment; 
 and where the punishment is not just, that punishment 
 is a crime, whatever the law may be, or whatever it 
 may declare. 
 
 One striking fact is apparent in considering the 
 past history of laws with regard to crimes and prop- 
 erty. The laws with regard to crimes have been con- 
 sidered alterable, the laws with regard to property 
 have been considered unalterable. One generation of 
 legislators and rulers made an action a legal crime; 
 but the next generation did not on that account con- 
 
 106 
 
sider itself bound forever so to esteem it. On the con- 
 trary, every generation of legislators fias considered 
 itself at full liberty to alter, revise, amend, and abolish 
 such laws, according to its own judgment. But with 
 regard to the king's gift of lands it has been quite 
 otherwise. The deeds of past rulers have been sup- 
 posed to extend to all future generations; and the 
 doctrine now prevalent is, that the lands once alienated 
 by the king's gift, could not be reassumed by the 
 nation without a breach of equity — without, in fact, 
 committing that crime abhorrent in the eyes of aristoc- 
 racy, " attacking the rights of property." This dis- 
 crepancy is at once explained, when we reflect that 
 the legislators of Britain have been for the most part 
 the landlords themselves, or those so immediately con- 
 nected with their interests, that the government was 
 to all intents and purposes a landlordocracy. But the 
 question still occurs, and must occur again and again, 
 " If the acts of past rulers were not morally perma- 
 nent with regard to crime, how can they possibly be 
 so with regard to property.? and if they are morally 
 permanent with regard to property, how can they be 
 otherwise with regard to crime.'"' 
 
 We have now to show that crime and property are 
 not distinct, in fact that, so far as regards legislation, 
 they are identical ; and that the laws (or king's grants, 
 which are in fact nothing else than laws, although this 
 fact is overlooked) regarding landed property, are 
 neither more nor less than laws regarding crime. 
 Property is usually regarded as an object, as some- 
 thing essentially distinguished from action. Yet we 
 shall undertake to show that action alone is concerned, 
 and that all laws regarding property are merely laws 
 regarding action. And if we succeed in doing this, we 
 have unhinged the superstition that prevails on the 
 
 107 
 
subject of landed property, — we have loosened the 
 fabric of aristocracy, and laid open a question that 
 for many years to come will occupy the attention of 
 Great Britain. There is already in the public mind 
 a very extensive suspicion that the present distribu- 
 tion of the land is the true and main cause of Eng- 
 land's distress and Ireland's wretchedness ; but the 
 supposed difficulty of presenting a scheme which 
 should be perfectly just in theory, and practicable 
 and beneficial if carried into effect, appears to have de- 
 terred many from openly attacking the question, and 
 from subjecting it to the same kind of calm and ra- 
 tional investigation so lavishly accorded to other 
 questions of incomparably less importance. The 
 apparent hopelessness, also, of effecting any radical 
 change in the present system, and the fear of advo- 
 cating " v/ild " doctrines, have both exerted an influ- 
 ence in repressing investigation. This apathy, how- 
 ever, cannot continue long. Whatever may be the 
 result, the investigation cannot fail to be made. 
 
 We now undertake to show that the gift of the land 
 by the king, is nothing more than a law affecting 
 action ; and, consequently, is of the same character 
 as a law relating to crime. And if so, it must follow 
 the general course of the laws relating to crime; and 
 if those laws are not morally permanent, neither is the 
 king's gift of land morally permanent, but may be 
 revised, amended, or abolished, exactly in the same 
 manner as a law affecting crime. And over and above, 
 we maintain, that neither the one nor the other is one 
 atom more valid, or more binding, on account of legis- 
 lation, but that they are right now, or wrong now, 
 wholly and solely according to their own merits ; that 
 the law cannot make a crime, although the law may 
 call an action by this name, and treat it as such; and 
 
 108 
 
that the law cannot make a portion of land property 
 although it may call it property. Both crime and 
 property are anterior to law, and superior to it: and 
 it was not to make either the one or the other, but to 
 prevent the one and protect the other, that legislative 
 law was called into existence. Law is not the mtoral 
 measure of right and wrong; but the rule of practice 
 for the policeman, constable, jailer, judge, sheriff, and 
 hangman; and until law is absolutely perfect, there 
 is a canon higher than the canon of law, one more 
 valid and more stable — the canon of reason — to which 
 law itself must be subject. 
 
 A law against crime is a public declaration that 
 certain acts ought not to be performed; and that he 
 who performs them shall be visited with certain speci- 
 fied penalties. This, we maintain, is exactly the essence 
 of the king's grant of landed property, because the 
 law declares that if any persons use the land without 
 permission of the grantee, they shall be punished. 
 
 Now the essential part of this political arrangement 
 is this : — " All persons in the nation are forbidden, 
 under pains and penalties, to use a certain portion 
 of land, with the exception of the grantee, or by his 
 permission." This, then, is essentially a law against 
 action — a law declaring that to use a certain portion 
 of land is a crime for the vast majority of the popula- 
 tion. 
 
 Now, if we turn to the effects of this arrangement, 
 we find that this grantee is in no respect bound to 
 make the land produce. He may utterly neglect it; 
 nay, he may, as has actually been done recently in the 
 Highlands of Scotland (and as the king did himself 
 ages ago at the New Forest) — may drive off the 
 population, drive off the sheep (the food of the man), 
 and convert the district into a game desert for his own 
 
 109 
 
amusement — ^he having plenty of wealth, derived per- 
 haps from other lands, wherewith to support these 
 costly pleasures — at the expense of the nation. 
 
 Such, on the side of the grantee, is the limit of 
 liberty. Let us now ask. What the limit is on the 
 part of the nation? No matter what may be the state 
 of the land — even if it is lying waste, and producing 
 nothing for man's support, as is actually the case in 
 many parts of the kingdom — no man in Britain may 
 put into it a spade or a potato, to save his family 
 from starvation, without incurring the penalties of 
 the law. He would be a criminal (the law would call 
 him so), and he would be treated as such. 
 
 This state of affairs represents the extremes ; and 
 all that is better than the extremes is due, not to the 
 law, but to the laws of nature. Now, the law has done 
 this grievous injury; it has deprived the poor of the 
 natural remedy whereby they would have corrected so 
 enormous an abuse. Let us suppose that there was 
 no law, and that one man claimed thirty thousand 
 acres for his amusement. Other persons require the 
 land for their support. They begin to occupy it, and 
 he endeavors to repel them. Now, what would be the 
 natural consequence.? What ought the cultivators to 
 do? Should they retire and starve? or expatriate 
 themselves? They would resist the aggression by 
 force, and in so doing they would only do their duty. 
 But the law will not allow them to resist. The law 
 has first deprived them of the land, and then enlisted 
 a standing army to prevent them from using the natu- 
 ral means of recovering it. 
 
 No truth can be more certain than that God gave 
 the land for the benefit of all ; and if any arrangement 
 interfere with, or diminish that benefit, then has man 
 as man, as the recipient of God's bounty, an un- 
 
 110 
 
doubted right to alter or abolish that arrangement, 
 exactly as he alters his arrangements in agriculture, 
 in medicine, in mechanics, or in navigation. No 
 more crime, and no more wrong attaches to his altera- 
 tions in the one case than in the other. 
 
 Political improvement takes place exactly as men 
 discover and definitely determine the true nature of 
 crime; and exactly as they confine their laws to the 
 prohibition of those actions which are crimes, and to 
 the non-prohibition of those actions which are not 
 crimes. The laws of man cannot make a crime, neither 
 can they unmake a crime. Crime is logically anterior 
 to human legislation, and the very end and intent of 
 legislation in its first and most essential capacity is, — 
 to prevent crime. 
 
 All nations with which we are acquainted have 
 punished as crimes actions which were not crimes ; and 
 the gradual improvement of the laws of man in this 
 respect, is one of the great phenomena that we learn 
 from history. 
 
 But while we have a positive major proposition, we 
 have also a negative major proposition, which is — 
 
 " No action that is not a crime ought to be pre- 
 vented by the law." 
 
 Now, as legislators and rulers are only men (there 
 is no divine wisdom, nor divine sacredness about them), 
 they may be the criminals as well as any of the popu- 
 lation. It is quite easy for the generality of writers 
 on these subjects to treat of crime as committed by 
 the population. They see so far, and sometimes their 
 views are valuable and correct. But they have first 
 perched the government on a great height, which they 
 do not intend to survey; and then they confine their 
 observation to the subject population. To include 
 both at one view appears a stretch beyond their power, 
 
 111 
 
and hence their admirable dissertations are unsatis- 
 factory; and by unsatisfactory, we do not mean that 
 they are not distinguished by talent of the highest 
 order, and by upright sincerity; but that they treat 
 only one portion of the phenomenon, and omit its 
 correlative. Exactly as if one were to write an able 
 dissertation on the earth's motion, furnishing us with 
 a perfect diagram and specification of the orbit, and 
 an exact determination of the velocity, and yet should 
 altogether omit to mention the sun. Such a disserta- 
 tion, let its details be as perfect as they may, would be 
 altogether unsatisfactory; because the correlative, the 
 sun, has not been exhibited in its relations to the 
 earth. 
 
 And so it is with crime. He who studies crime as a 
 portion of man-science, must include in his view the 
 whole phenomenon, and must inquire what does man 
 do, as man. And when we turn to Britain with this 
 principle, we must regard the whole population, king, 
 lords, commons, soldiers, judges, laborers, paupers, in 
 fact, the whole mass of society, as merely men. And 
 when we define crime, and find that actions coinciding 
 with that definition are performed by any of these 
 parties, by whatever name they may be called, or under 
 whatever pretences they may appear, we must not 
 hesitate to call the action by the name of crime, and 
 to say, " this is a crime committed by men." Rever- 
 ence for law as law, as a human rule of action de facto 
 enacted by legislators, is mere debasing superstition ; 
 nor, however venerable law may be in some men's esti- 
 mation, do we consider either their law or their worship 
 of it at all entitled to respect. Men venerate law and 
 care nothing for justice, just as they venerate the 
 priest and forget the Deity. 
 
 The Almighty Maker and Ruler of mankind will 
 112 
 
have men subject to justice and not to men; and the 
 very moment the rules of justice, which vary not, nor 
 can vary, are departed from, that moment is man re- 
 lieved from his allegiance to the ruler; and if the 
 population have the power, they may arrest the rulers, 
 and bring them to the same judicial trial that would 
 be reserved for the individual. 
 
 Hence the necessity for a " science of justice," that 
 men — definitely ascertaining, on principles which are 
 not arbitrary, the real actions which are criminal — ■ 
 may appoint a first magistrate to carry into execu- 
 tion the laws of justice. And this first magistrate — 
 king, president, or anything else — is not to govern 
 men, but to regulate them according to the laws of 
 equity; and in performing this function, he occupies 
 the highest position to which man may attain, and, 
 performing his duties with impartial sincerity, he 
 merits the constant respect, aid, and support of every 
 person in the land. This portion of the British con- 
 stitution, the first magistrate king, the independent 
 judges, and the jury from the locality, is unsurpassed, 
 if not unequalled, by anything in the whole history of 
 man. In England, we have in this portion of our 
 political mechanism, the most profound reason for 
 thankfulness to God. Had the slave-owner been tried, 
 he could not have been convicted because of the law; 
 but had the legislature been tried for making laws to 
 allow slavery, and for using the British arms to sup- 
 port it, there can be no question that, if the ordinary 
 decisions were adhered to, the jury would have found 
 the legislature guilty, and England may proudly say 
 that her judges would not have hesitated to pronounce 
 the condemnation. Definitely to determine what is a 
 crime and what is not a crime is one of the first great 
 problems of political science. We define crime to be, 
 
 113 
 
" a breach of equity " ; and consequently we maintain 
 that whatever is not a breach of equity is not a crime, 
 and under no circumstances whatever ought to be pro- 
 hibited or restricted by the laws. Absolute freedom, 
 then, to perform every action that is not a breach of 
 equity, constitutes the great final termination of man's 
 political progress, so far as liberty is concerned. 
 
 But what is man's final termination with regard to 
 the other great substantive of politics, property? 
 
 Here we approach a subject that, in the course of a 
 few years (in all probability), will be the great ele- 
 ment of strife and contention. Here is the rock on 
 which England's famous constitution of King, Lords, 
 and Commons, will suffer its final shipwreck. Such 
 an assertion is, of course, at present a mere opinion ; 
 but if the scheme we have advanced be in the main 
 correct, then we do not hesitate to affirm, that if we 
 continue that scheme into the future, we may see that 
 the question of landed property will be the cause of a 
 stupendous struggle between the aristocracy and the 
 laborocracy of Britain, and that its final settlement 
 will entail the destruction of the constitution. And 
 the question lies in narrow bounds, all that is required 
 being an answer to a question virtually the following: 
 "Is the population to be starved, pauperized, and 
 expatriated, or is the aristocracy to be destroyed.'' "* 
 Let the political arrangements be what they may, let 
 there be universal or any other suffrage, so long as 
 the aristocracy have all the land, and derive the rent 
 
 * By the destruction of the aristocracy, we do not mean the 
 destruction of the aristocrats, any more than, by the destruc- 
 tion of pauperism, we should mean the destruction of the per- 
 sons of the paupers. It is to the system that we refer exchi- 
 sively, and only as either system has been created by the ar- 
 rangements of men. 
 
 114 
 
of it, the laborer is only a serf, and a serf lie will 
 remain until he has uprooted the rights of private 
 landed property. The land is for the nation, and not 
 for the aristocracy. 
 
 But it is necessary to understand what we mean by 
 a lord and a serf. 
 
 A serf is a man who, by the arrangements of man- 
 kind, is deprived of the object on which he might ex- 
 pend his labor, or of the natural profit that results 
 from his labor ; and consequently is under the necessity 
 of supporting himself and his family by his labor 
 alone. And a lord or an aristocrat is a man who, by 
 the arrangements of mankind, is made to possess the 
 object; and who consequently can support himself and 
 his family without labor, on the profits created by the 
 labor of others. This is the essential distinction be- 
 tween the lord and the serf; and we maintain that the 
 constitution of the world forbids that any arrangement 
 of this kind should result in any other than an evil 
 condition of society, which must necessarily condemn 
 a large part of the population to physical degrada- 
 tion, and if to physical degradation to moral degra- 
 dation. No instance can be adduced of a population 
 reduced to extreme poverty (as must ever be the case 
 where the land, the great source of wealth, is allotted 
 to a few who labor not), where that population has 
 not been also and in consequence reduced to moral and 
 intellectual degradation, and where the spirit of man 
 has not been depraved and borne down by the cir- 
 cumstances in which man, and not Grod, has placed 
 him. 
 
 The history of the acquisition of liberty (in Britain, 
 for instance) is only the history of the gradual de- 
 struction of the privileges of the lord, and of the legal 
 title which the serf has from time to time succeeded 
 
 115 
 
in establishing to those natural rights of which he has 
 been deprived. 
 
 We are fully aware that there exists in the minds 
 of many persons a vague apprehension, that if the 
 present laws relating to landed property were to be 
 disturbed, evils of the most malignant character would 
 invade the society of Britain. Nothing can be 
 more absurd, more puerile, more dastardly. The very 
 same fears have prevailed with regard to every 
 other change that has taken place ; and, down to the 
 last change that man shall make in his political arrange- 
 ments, we may rest satisfied that the craven, the place- 
 man, and the aristocrat will not fail to vent loud 
 lamentations on the evils which, in their estimation, 
 are sure to follow. The arrangements of mankind 
 have established diversities of rights affecting the 
 possession of the earth, which the Creator intended 
 for the race ; and thus one man was endowed with vast 
 extents of territory, while, on the other hand, multi- 
 tudes were thereby necessarily deprived of everything 
 except their labor. So singular a system could only 
 originate in the reign of power, and could only be 
 perpetuated through the ignorance of the masses of 
 the population. But the arrangements of mankind 
 with regard to the earth did not stop here. One gen- 
 eration was not content with making arrangements 
 which were to be in force for that generation alone; 
 but laws were enacted, and customs were acknowledged 
 whereby the arrangements of one generation were to 
 descend to future generations, and to be imposed on 
 men not yet bom, who were to be born into a world 
 already portioned out, and consequently to which they 
 had no title. Those, therefore, who were bom into 
 the world in a country where the land had been accorded 
 to individual proprietors, could obtain their livelihood 
 
 116 
 
only by labor for other men ; and as those to whom 
 the land had been accorded could not cultivate it them- 
 selves, and as the land was required for the support of 
 the population, the laborers were under the necessity of 
 paying a rent to those who thus procured a vast rev- 
 enue without labor. This system of diversity of rights 
 to the natural earth, which God intended for the race, 
 being perpetuated from generation to generation, en- 
 tails with it, as its necessary attendant, that baneful 
 condition of society, in which we have a few aristocrats 
 endowed with vast wealth without labor, and a multi- 
 tude of laborers reduced to poverty, destitution, and 
 sometimes to actual starvation. 
 
 No political truth requires to be more strenuously 
 impressed upon the world, than that the men of every 
 succeeding generation have the same right to make 
 their own arrangements, unburdened with any respon- 
 sibilities, restrictions, diversities of rights and privi- 
 leges, other than those restrictions imposed by the gen- 
 eral laws of equity, or those diversities of office which 
 they may agree to make for their general advantage. 
 
 If, then, we admit that every generation of inen has 
 the same free right to make its own arrangements, and 
 to carry into effect the principles it knows or believes 
 to be true, quite independently of the arrangements 
 that have been made by any anterior generations, we 
 must also of necessity admit, that the earth and all 
 it contains, belongs, for the time being, to every exist- 
 ing generation, and that the disposition of the earth 
 (as the great storehouse from which man must derive 
 his support and sustenance) is not to be determined by 
 the laws, customs, arrangements, king's gifts, or pre- 
 scriptive rights of any past generation of men, but 
 by the judgment and reason of the existing generation, 
 ordering all arrangements according to the rules of 
 
 117 
 
equity, which are always valid and always binding, 
 and which at every given moment of time are the rules 
 which ought to determine human action. Consequently 
 the question at every period is, " What is the equitable 
 disposition of the earth? " The great problem is to 
 discover " such a system as shall secure to every man 
 his exact share of the natural advantages which the 
 Creator has provided for the race; while, at the same 
 time, he has full opportunity, without let or hindrance, 
 to exercise his labor, industry, and skill, for his own 
 advantage." Until this problem is solved, both in 
 theory and in practice, political change must continu- 
 ally go on. 
 
 Absolute equalization in the eye of the law with re- 
 gard to natural rights, is the final termination of man's 
 political progress, the last term in that grand series 
 of changes that commenced with the two opposite ele- 
 ments — the lord and the serf; and which will terminate 
 with the one element — the freeman without privileges 
 and without oppressions. 
 
 There cannot be the slightest question that the pro- 
 gression of modern states is towards universal suf- 
 frage; that is, towards absolute equalization of the 
 political function of the individuals of whom the state 
 is composed. The necessary attendant of universal 
 suffrage must be, " the equal eligibility of every mem- 
 ber of the state to fill any office in the state." 
 
 When a state arrives at this ultimatum with regard 
 to the political function of each individual, the ques- 
 tion of natural property must fall to be discussed; 
 and as no possible reason can be alleged why one in- 
 dividual should a priori be endowed with more of the 
 earth (which God, the Creator and Father of mankind, 
 has given to the human race) than any other individ- 
 ual; and as every generation of existing men must 
 
 118 
 
have exactly the same title to a free earth, unencum- 
 bered with any arrangements of past generations, we 
 may rest satisfied, that through whatever transforma- 
 tions men may pass, the ultimate point at which they 
 must necessarily arrive, is absolute equality with re- 
 gard to natural property. And if so, the intention of 
 Providence will then be realized, that the industrious 
 man shall be rich, and the man who labors not shall be 
 poor. Such is the intention of ng^ture, and such is the 
 intention of the Almighty Maker of mankind. 
 
 The great social problem, then, that cannot fail ere 
 long to appear in the arena of European discussion is, 
 " to discover such a system as shall secure to every 
 man his exact share of the natural advantages which 
 the Creator has provided for the race; while, at the 
 same time, he has full opportunity, without let or hin- 
 drance, to exercise his skill, industry, and perseverance 
 for his own advantage." 
 
 Of this problem, we maintain that there can be but 
 one general solution possible; and the whole analogy 
 of scientific discovery assures us that, sooner or later, 
 the problem will be solved, that the solution will be 
 acknowledged, and that it will be transformed from an 
 intellectual dogma into a practical rule of action, 
 thereby presenting a realization, in outward condition, 
 of those propositions which the reason has seen to be 
 correct. 
 
 The solution we propound is the following, although, 
 of course, there is no supposition that any general 
 solution can be immediately applicable to the circum- 
 stances of this or any other country. 
 
 We shall speak of England alone, and consider the 
 state of England as composed of an indefinite number 
 of members, all equal in the eye of the law, all on a 
 parity with regard to primary political function, and 
 
 119 
 
all equally eligible to fill any office to which they may 
 be elected by the suffrages of the majority. All au- 
 thority of man is of course excluded, and the canon 
 of right is the science of equity — that is, the rules of 
 divine and immutable justice, as capable of being ap- 
 prehended by the human reason. 
 
 [Even if it were true that there ought to be an in- 
 equality of rights among the individuals of the human 
 race, it would be absolutely impossible to determine 
 which individuals of the race should be bom to more 
 rights, and which individuals to fewer rights, than 
 their fellows.* An inequality of rights can only be 
 based on superstition, and the very moment reason is 
 substituted for superstition in political science (as it 
 has been in physical science), that moment must men 
 admit that no possible means are known by which an 
 inequality of rights could possible be substantiated.] 
 
 The state of England, then, would present a soil 
 (including the soil proper, the mines, forests, fisheries, 
 
 * " Whilst we maintain the unity of the human species, we at 
 the same time repel the depressing assumption of superior and 
 inferior races of men." "There are nations more susceptible of 
 cultivation, more highly civilized, more ennobled by mental cul- 
 tivation, than others, but none in themselves nobler than others. 
 All are in like degree designed for freedom — a freedom which, 
 in the ruder conditions of society, belongs only to the individ- 
 ual, but which, in social states enjoying political institutions, 
 appertains as a right to the whole body of the community." "If 
 we would indicate an idea which, throughout the whole course 
 of history, has ever more and more widely extended its empire, 
 or which, more than any other, testifies to the much contested, 
 and still more decidedly misunderstood perfectibility of the 
 whole human race, it is that of establishing our common hu- 
 manity — without reference to religion, nation, or color, as one 
 fraternity, one great community, fitted for the attainment of 
 one object, the unrestrained development of the psychical pow- 
 ers. This is the ultimate and highest aim of society, identical 
 
 120 
 
etc.; in fact, that portion of the natural earth called 
 England) which was permanent, and a population that 
 was not permanent, but renewed by successive genera- 
 tions. 
 
 The question then is, " What system will secure to 
 every individual of these successive generations his 
 portion of the natural advantages of England.'^" Of 
 this problem, we maintain that there is but one solution 
 possible. 
 
 No truth can be more absolutely certain as an in- 
 tuitive proposition of the reason, than that " an ob- 
 ject is the property of its creator"; and we maintain 
 that creation * is the only means by which an individ- 
 ual right to property can be generated. Consequently, 
 as no individual and no generation is the creator of the 
 
 with the direction implanted by nature in the mind of man 
 towards the indefinite extension of his existence. He regards 
 the earth in all its limits, and the heavens as far as his eye can 
 scan their bright and starry depths, as inwardly his own, given 
 to him as the objects of his contemplation, and as a field for 
 the development of his energies. Even the child longs to pass 
 the hills, or the seas which enclose his manor-house; yet, when 
 his eager steps have borne him beyond those limits, he pines 
 like the plant for his native soil; and it is by this touching and 
 beautiful attribute of man, this longing for that which is un- 
 known, audi this fond remembrance of that which is lost, that he 
 is spared from an exclusive attachment to the present. Thus 
 deeply rooted in the innermost nature of man, and even en- 
 joined upon him by his highest tendencies, the recognition of 
 the bond of humanity becomes one of the noblest leading prin- 
 ciples in the history of mankind." — Humboldt's Cosmos, vol. i. 
 p. 368; Bohn's Edition. 
 
 * In the arts, man creates form; in political economy, he cre- 
 ates value; and in politics, he creates property. And as the 
 evolution is in this order — 1st, the Arts; 2d, Political Econ- 
 omy; 3d, Politics; the laws of political economy must be dis- 
 covered before there can be a system of property rational in 
 its theory and scientific in its form. 
 
 121 
 
substantive, earth, it belongs equally to all tKe exist- 
 ing inhabitants. That is, no individual has a special 
 claim to more than another. 
 
 But while on the one hand we take into consideration 
 the object — ^that is, the earth; we must also take into 
 consideration the subject — that is, man, and man's 
 labor. 
 
 The object is the common property of all; no in- 
 dividual being able to exhibit a title to any particular 
 portion of it. And individual or private property is, 
 the increased value produced by individual labor. 
 Again, in the earth must be distinguished the per- 
 manent earth and its temporary or perishable produc- 
 tions. The former — that is, the permanent earth — we 
 maintain, never can be private property; and every 
 system that treats it as such must necessarily be un- 
 just. No rational basis has ever been exhibited to the 
 world on which private right to any particular por- 
 tion of the earth could possible be founded. 
 
 But though the permanent earth never can be pri- 
 vate property (although the laws may call it so, and 
 may treat it as such), it must be possessed by indi- 
 viduals for the purpose of cultivation, and for the pur- 
 pose of extracting from it all those natural objects 
 which man requires. 
 
 The question then is, upon what terms, or accord- 
 ing to what system, must the earth be possessed by the 
 successive generations that succeed each other on the 
 surface of the globe? The conditions given are — 
 First, That the earth is the common property of the 
 race; Second, That whatever an individual produces 
 by his own labor (whether it be a new object, made 
 out of many materials, or a new value given by labor 
 to an object whose form, locality, etc., may be changed) 
 is the private property of that individual, and he may 
 
 122 
 
dispose of It as lie pleases, provided he does not inter- 
 fere with his fellows. Third, The earth is the perpetual 
 common property of the race, and each succeeding 
 generation has a full title to a free earth. One genera- 
 tion cannot encumber a succeeding generation. 
 
 And the condition required is, such a system as shall 
 secure to the successive individuals of the race their 
 share of the common property, and the opportunity 
 without interference, of making as much private prop- 
 erty as their skill, industry, and enterprise would enable 
 them to make. 
 
 The scheme that appears to present itself most natu- 
 rally is, the general division of the soil, portioning It 
 out to the Inhabitants according to their number. 
 Such appears to be the only system that suggests it- 
 self to most minds, if we may judge from the objec- 
 tions brought forward against an equalization of 
 property. 
 
 But men must go forward, never backward. To 
 speak of a division of lands in England is absurd. 
 Such a division would be as useless as it Is improbable. 
 But it is more than useless — ^it is unjust; and unjust, 
 not to the present so-called proprietors, but to the 
 human beings who are continually bein^ born into the 
 world, and who have exactly the same natural right 
 to a portion that their predecessors have. 
 
 The actual division of the soil need never be an- 
 ticipated, nor would such a division be just, if the 
 divided portions were made the property (legally, for 
 they could never be so morally) of individuals. 
 
 If, then, successive generations of men cannot have 
 their fractional share of the actual soil (including 
 mines, etc.), how can the division of the advantages 
 of the natural earth be effected.? 
 
 By the division of its annual value or rent ; that is, 
 123 
 
by making the rent of the soil the common property 
 of the nation. That is (as the taxation is the com- 
 mon property of the state) , by taking the whole of the 
 taxes out of the rents of the soil, and thereby abolish- 
 ing all other kinds of taxation whatever. And thus all 
 industry would be absolutely emancipated from every 
 burden, and every man would reap such natural reward 
 as his skill, industry, or enterprise rendered legitimately 
 his, according to the natural law of free competition.* 
 This we maintain to be the only theory that will sat- 
 isfy the requirements of the problem of natural prop- 
 erty. And the question now is : how can the division 
 of the rent be effected.'' An actual division of the rent 
 — that is, the payment of so much money to each in- 
 dividual — would be attended with, perhaps, insuper- 
 able inconveniences ; neither is such an actual division 
 requisite, every requirement being capable of fulfilment 
 without it. 
 
 We now apply this solution to England. England 
 forms a state; that is, a community acting through 
 public servants for the administration of justice, etc. 
 In the actual condition of England, many things are 
 at present unjust; and the right of the government 
 to tax and make laws for those who are excluded from 
 representation, is at all events questionable. How- 
 ever, we shall make a few remarks on England as she 
 is, and on England as she ought to be; that is, as she 
 would be were the rules of equity reduced to practical 
 operation. 
 
 1st. The state has alienated the lands to private 
 
 * We have no hesitation whatever in predicting that all civil- 
 ized communities must ultimately abolish all revenue restrictions 
 on industry, and draw the whole taxation from the rents of the 
 soil. And this because the rents of the soil are the common 
 produce of the whole labor of a community. 
 
 124) 
 
individuals called proprietors, and the vast majority 
 of Englishmen are born to their labor, minus their 
 share of the taxation. 
 
 2d. This taxation of labor has introduced vast sys- 
 tems of restriction on trades and industry. Instead 
 of a perfectly free trade with all the world, England 
 has adopted a revenue system that most materially 
 diminishes both the amount of trade and its profit. 
 And, instead of a perfectly free internal industry, 
 England has adopted an excise that is as vexatious 
 in its operation as can well be conceived. Both the 
 customs and excise laws, and every other tax on indus- 
 try, have arisen from the alienation of the soil from 
 the state; and had the soil not been alienated, no tax 
 whatever would have been requisite; and were the soil 
 resumed (as it undoubtedly ought to be), every tax 
 of every kind and character, save the common rent of 
 the soil, might at once be abolished, with the whole 
 army of collectors, revenue-officers, cruisers, coast- 
 guards, excisemen, etc., etc. 
 
 3d. Taxation can only be on land or labor. [By 
 land we mean the natural earth, not merely the agri- 
 cultural soil.] These are the two radical elements that 
 can be subjected to taxation, capital being originally 
 derived from one or the other. Capital is only 
 hoarded labor or hoarded rent ; and as all capital must 
 be derived from the one source or the other, all taxa- 
 tion of capital is only taxation of land or of labor. 
 Consequently all taxation of whatever kind is, — 1st, 
 taxation of labor, that is, a deduction from the natural 
 remuneration which God intended the laborer to derive 
 from his exertions ; or 2d, taxation of land, that is, 
 the appropriation of the current value of the natural 
 earth to the expenses of the state. 
 
 Now, labor is essentially private property, and 
 125 
 
land Is not essentially private property, but on the 
 contrary is the common inheritance of every genera- 
 tion of mankind. Where the land is taxed, no man 
 is taxed, nor does the taxation of land interfere in any 
 way whatever with the progress of human industry. 
 On the contrary, the taxation of land, rightly directed, 
 might be made to advance the condition of the coun- 
 try to a high degree of prosperity. 
 
 4th. For the expenses of a state there must be a 
 revenue, and this revenue must be derived from the 
 taxation of labor, or from the rent of the lands. There 
 is no other alternative ; either the rents of the soil must 
 be devoted to the common expenses of the state, or 
 the labor of individuals must be interfered with; and 
 restrictions, supervisions, prohibitions, etc., must be 
 called into existence, to facilitate the collection of the 
 revenue. 
 
 The political history of landed property in Eng- 
 land, appears to have been as follows: — 
 
 1st. The lands were accorded by the king to per- 
 sons who were to undertake the military service of the 
 kingdom. 
 
 2d. The performance of this military service was 
 the condition on which individuals held the national 
 land. 
 
 3d. The lands were at first held for life, and after- 
 wards were made hereditary. 
 
 4th. The military service was abolished by the law, 
 and a standing army introduced. 
 
 5th. This standing army was paid by the king. 
 
 6th. The king, having abolished the military serv- 
 ices of the individuals who held the national land, re- 
 sorted to the taxation of articles of consumption for 
 the payment of the army. 
 
 The lands of England, therefore, instead of being 
 126 
 
held on condition of performing the military service 
 of the kingdom, became the property of the individuals 
 who held them, and thus the State of England lost the 
 lands of England. And the military service of the 
 kingdom, instead of being performed by those individ- 
 uals who held the national land, was henceforth (after 
 the reign of Charles II.) to be paid for by the gen- 
 eral taxation of the inhabitants of the country. 
 
 Therefore the present system of taxation, and the 
 national debt, the interest of which is procured by the 
 forcible taxation of the general inhabitants of Eng- 
 land, are both due to the alienation of the lands from 
 the State, inasmuch as the national debt (incurred for 
 war expenses) would have been a debt upon the lands, 
 and not a debt upon the people of England. If, there- 
 fore, the legislature had a right to abolish the mili- 
 tary services of those who held the national land, and 
 thereby to impose on the general community all the 
 liabilities of the military service of the kingdom, the 
 legislature has the same right to abolish the general 
 taxation of the community, and to allocate to those 
 who hold the land all the expenses that have been in- 
 curred, and that are still incurred, for the war charges 
 of the kingdom. 
 
 The alienation of the land from the state, and its 
 conversion into private property, was the first grand 
 step that laid the foundation of the modem system of 
 society in England, — a system that presents enormous 
 wealth in the hands of a few aristocrats, who neither 
 labor, nor even pay taxes in proportion to those who 
 do labor; and a vast population laboring for a bare 
 subsistence, or reduced sometimes by millions to the 
 condition of pauperism. 
 
 So long as this system is allowed to continue, it ap- 
 pears (from the constitution of the earth, and of man's 
 
 127 
 
power to extract from it a maintenance) an absolute 
 impossibility that pauperism should be obliterated; 
 inasmuch as the burden of taxation necessarily falls 
 on labor, and more especially as the value of labor is 
 necessarily diminished wherever there is a sioil al- 
 located to an aristocracy.* 
 
 The three events which have at last left the lands 
 of England in the hands of a small number of aristo- 
 crats, are these: the suppression of the monasteries; 
 the abolition of military tenures ; and the enclosure 
 of the common lands. 
 
 Yet every one of these events has a right side as 
 well as a wrong side. It was right to abolish the mon- 
 asteries and the military tenures, but it was iniquitous 
 to transform the lands thus obtained into the property 
 of the aristocracy. 
 
 The enclosure of the common lands, again, was a 
 proper measure, inasmuch as the lands were produc- 
 ing a little; and every measure that caused the lands 
 to produce more for the consumption of the country 
 was so far beneficial. It would have been quite absurd 
 to leave the common lands in pasture, while their en- 
 closure would produce for the service of the country 
 
 * In fact, it is the disposition of the land that determines the 
 value of labor. If men could get the land to labor on, they 
 would manufacture only for a remuneration that afforded more 
 profit than God has attached to the cultivation of the earth. 
 Where they cannot get the land to labor on they are starved 
 into working for a bare subsistence. There is only one reason 
 why the labor of England, Ireland, and Scotland, is of so little 
 marketable value, and that reason is, the present disposition of 
 the soil. The lands of England have been disposed of accord- 
 ing to two laws — the law of the strongest and the law of the 
 most cunning; hence England's pauperism and England's moral 
 degradation. There yet remains another law, and its reduction 
 to practice will, one day or other, regenerate the social condi- 
 tion of the population — the law of equity. 
 
 128 
 
a much larger quantity of food. But these allotments 
 were assigned, under enclosure acts, not to the occu- 
 piers, but the owners of the cottages. Thus almost a 
 complete severance has been affected between the Eng- 
 lish peasantry and the English soil. The little farmers 
 and cottiers of the country have been converted into day- 
 laborers, depending entirely upon daily earnings, 
 which may, and frequently in point of fact do, fail 
 them. They have now no land, upon the produce of 
 which they can fall as a reserve whenever the demand 
 for labor happens to be slack. 
 
 And now it is necessary to inquire, "Why does it 
 happen, that in the richest country in the world a large 
 portion of the population should be reduced to pauper- 
 ism? " Until the causes of pauperism are satisfactor- 
 ily ascertained, and until the remedy is applied to the 
 cause, no remedial measure can do more than alleviate 
 the evil. Apply the remedy to the cause, and the evil 
 is eradicated. The cause, or at least one of the great 
 causes, is that expressed in the words quoted above, 
 " the severance between the English peasantry and the 
 English soil ; " and until the peasantry recover that 
 soil, the inhabitants of England may rest satisfied that 
 the curse of pauperism will pursue them. The British 
 public can never be sufficiently reminded that there 
 need have been no taxes had it not been for the alien- 
 ation of the land from the state. 
 
 No truth appears to be more satisfactorily and 
 more generally borne out by the history of modem 
 Europe, than that the progression of men in the mat- 
 ter of liberty " is from a diversity of privileges to- 
 wards an equality of rights;" that Is, that the past 
 progress has been all In this direction since the maxi- 
 mum of diversity prevailed in the aspect of individual 
 lord and individual serf. And if this be the case, it 
 
 129 
 
cannot be an unreasonable conclusion, that if suf- 
 ficient time be allowed for the evolution, the progress 
 of change will continue to go on till some ultimate con- 
 dition is evolved. And that ultimate condition can 
 only be at the point where diversity of privilege dis- 
 appears, and every individual in the state is legally 
 entitled to identically the same political functions. 
 Diversities of office there may be, and there must be, 
 but diversity of rights there cannot be without in- 
 justice. 
 
 Such, then, is the theoretic ultimatum that satisfies 
 the reason with regard to its equity, and such is the 
 historic ultimatum that the reason infers from the past 
 history of mankind. Such, then, is the point towards 
 which societies are progressing; and when that point 
 is reached, the ultimatum of equity is achieved, and 
 the present course of historical evolution is complete. 
 
 The next steps required to lead society towards its 
 final destination are questions for the practical states- 
 man. 
 
 Diversity of opinion may arise between two men who 
 are both apparently in the right, if the attention of 
 the one be directed to what is theoretically right, and 
 the attention of the other to what is practically ex- 
 pedient as the next step which the present balance of 
 powers in the state renders possible. The one takes 
 the unchangeable and imperishable element of man, 
 the objective reason, crowns it with imperial author- 
 ity, and demands that all should at once acknowledge 
 its supremacy. The other takes the variable element 
 of man — his subjective condition — and, rejecting 
 every dogma that claims to be absolute, discourses 
 only on the proximate possibility of improving that 
 condition. 
 
 Between these two parties, therefore, there is not 
 130 
 
so much a perpetual warfare, as a perpetual misun- 
 derstanding. Their point of view is different. They 
 stand on different elevations, and have quite a differ- 
 ent range of horizon. 
 
 To a certain extent, both are necessary — both are 
 workers in the great field of human improvement and 
 of man's amelioration. Incomprehensible as they must 
 ever be to each other (till the last final item of change 
 shall bring both to an identity of purpose), they are 
 fellow-laborers in the scheme of human evolution. The 
 one devises afar off the general scheme of progress ; 
 the other carries the proximate measures of that 
 scheme into practical operation. The one is the hydro- 
 grapher who constructs the chart; the other, the 
 mariner who navigates the ship, ignorant perhaps 
 what may be its final destination. 
 
 The theorist, too often trusting to his individual 
 perceptions, forgets that propositions which appear 
 to him of absolute certitude, can never be accepted by 
 the world until they have received a far wider authen- 
 tication than any one man could possibly bestow upon 
 them. And though perchance he might evolve some 
 propositions which should ultimately be able to stand 
 their ground, experience will prove that the diffusion 
 of truth is no less necessary than its discovery. Truth, 
 like leaven, must pervade the mass before the requisite 
 transformation is effected. On the other hand, the 
 man of practice moves, for the most part, as he is im- 
 pelled by the convictions of the multitude, and his ob- 
 ject is not to theorize but to design the requisite 
 changes, and to carry them into execution. The 
 theories of to-day he regards with indifference or 
 aversion ; tliey are of no practical avail ; he is pressed 
 with the necessity of action, and forgets that he moves 
 in action because the multitude have moved in mind; 
 
 131 
 
and that the multitude moved in mind because they 
 had imbibed the theories of former speculators, and 
 changed their credence under the influence 'of convic- 
 tion. He forgets that change of action comes from 
 change of credence, and that change of credence comes 
 from theoretic speculation. He forgets that if there 
 were no theories there would be no change, and if no 
 change no necessity for him to execute it. 
 
 In assigning, then, a theoretic ultimatum to man's 
 political progress, we posit — 
 
 That absolute equality in the eye of the law, with- 
 out the slightest distinction of individuals or classes, 
 is the ultimatum of political progression ; and this ul- 
 timatum is the only condition that satisfies the re- 
 quirements of the reason, and the only condition that 
 presents a rational termination to those changes 
 which, according to history, have been gradually tak- 
 ing place for centuries. 
 
 182 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 SENTIMENTS OF THE HUMAN MIND WHICH HAVE RULED 
 
 SOCIETY 
 
 BUT while an equality of human rights may be 
 . posited as a logical ultimatum that satisfies 
 the reason it must be remembered that the 
 practical ultimatum is the organization of society on 
 true principles, instead of on false principles. 
 
 In Britain, the constitution of civil society, like that 
 of ecclesiastical society, has only once been subjected 
 to systematic arrangement. 
 
 The Church, as one association, presented itself un- 
 der the form of the Papacy; the state, as one associa- 
 tion, presented Itself under the form of the feudal 
 system. The Papacy was the complete organization 
 of the Church on false principles ; the feudal system 
 was the complete organization of the state on false 
 principles ; and the history of modern society is the 
 history of the gradual destruction of those two great 
 systems. 
 
 The feudal system was organization on false prin- 
 ciples, but It was organization ; and so long as the 
 organization was genuine and spontaneous, the feudal 
 system was the true and living expression of man's 
 necessities. The leader was a leader, a lion-heart who 
 could dare and do. He led because he could lead, and 
 was followed from instinct, which knows its leader and 
 follows him. But when the feudal system was trans- 
 
 133 
 
planted from the field to the court the life of feudalism 
 was gone. 
 
 It became hereditary, and as neither courage nor 
 skill are hereditary, hereditary warriors are mummies. 
 When the force organization of society gave way 
 to the law organization of society, the hereditary prin- 
 ciple was transplanted into the legislature, and men 
 became hereditary legislators. But wisdom is no more 
 hereditary than courage and skill; and the hereditary 
 system of legislation — the parchment feudalism — be- 
 came as inefficient as the hereditary system of defence 
 — the pennon feudalism. A new element was required, 
 and a new element appeared — wealth produced by 
 trade, — not merely trade, but trade beginning to be 
 organized and systematized. 
 
 It must be observed that the feudal system had no 
 place for the trader. The trader is a non-feudal ele- 
 ment in society, and belongs to a different system of 
 organization. His day is fast approaching, and he 
 will ultimately push out hereditary feudalism from the 
 direction of the state. He began without a place, 
 without a rank, and almost without ordinary protec- 
 tion. He asserted his claims, however, and at length 
 society began to admit a portion of the trade principle. 
 This, like everything else, began on false grounds; 
 with privileges, charters and a hundred other inter- 
 ruptions to the laws of nature. Finally the burgesses 
 were tolerated because they had mioney and could pay 
 taxes, and gradually the traders have pushed their 
 way against the parchment lords. The Commons have 
 taken up the power. The Commons are partly knights 
 who represent proprietors of land, and partly citizens 
 and burgesses, chosen by the mercantile interest of 
 the nation. The lord^ have retired in solemn decency, 
 
 134 
 
and the knights and burgesses direct the affairs of 
 Britain. 
 
 To suppose, however, that this change is ultimate, 
 would be contrary to all the teaching of history. 
 Parchment lordship is contrary to the credence of 
 modern times. Men are beginning to believe that he 
 who does not work ought not to be supported, as those 
 who do work support the whole. The war lord worked, 
 and worked hard. He fought, or was ready to fight, 
 and his life was at stake for his wages. He deserved 
 his reward. He was a man who led men; and so long 
 as he was a real war lord, and war was the real pur- 
 suit, he was a genuine man, and filled an office for 
 which men were willing to accord him wages. When 
 he became a parchment lord, he still worked. He 
 made laws and ruled the country. He was to a cer- 
 tain extent necessary, like the bishop, who once worked 
 also, and ruled the church. And in former days, 
 the rule of the Church was no miore a jest than the 
 rule of the state. It was a real office — a thing not of 
 silks and drawing-rooms ; but of the translation of the 
 Word of God, and appearance at the martyr's stake 
 when requisite. The bishop was a pastor, a real, 
 genuine pastor, who had a flock and cared for it; 
 and even now, if it were possible to reanimate the 
 bishop, and make him again a leader, a genuine leader 
 of men, there is no man in the country who could 
 count followers with him. But the office is no longer 
 requisite. 
 
 Every human system dies, but beneath the surface 
 of the human systems there is a reality which does not 
 die — a reality which evolves. All systems preserved 
 by law beyond their natural existence are mummy 
 systems. So long as the credences last, the systems 
 
 135 
 
are natural, and do not decay, but when the credence 
 advances, the system is no longer the expression of 
 man's requirements ; and the system if preserved can 
 do evil, and only evil. With the advance of credence 
 the system ought to advance also ; for man in perpetu- 
 ating systems perpetuates only the expression of his 
 former ignorance. The trading community are fast, 
 very fast, pushing out the parchment holders: mer- 
 chants are now the notables, the men of note who ex- 
 press the requirements of the country. 
 
 But the pursuit of money is no more the ultimate 
 pursuit of man than the pursuit of war or pleasure. 
 The trader, in his turn, must cede the first place to 
 those who express man's higher requirements. Money 
 is a means, not an end; and when those who represent 
 the means have played their part, those who represent 
 something beyond the means will assert their claims, 
 and push the trader from the direction of the State. 
 Man is a rational and a moral being, and his rational 
 and moral nature must ultimately prevail to determine 
 the arrangements of society. 
 
 Out of the courtly pleasures grew courtly policies, 
 and it became the ambition to be a statesman. An 
 age of policy ensued, but the policy statesman is mak- 
 ing way for the trader. The trader's day is now, and 
 every day will see the policy and pleasure laws clear- 
 ing away because they interfere with trade. The 
 policy system is not yet dead, only dying. 
 
 Trade imperceptibly, and almost unconsciously, 
 begins to influence policy, not by denying that policy 
 ought to rule, but by discovering and making mani- 
 fest that certain acts which were assumed to be politic 
 are actually disadvantageous; that they involve loss 
 and not profit, and consequently that they ought not 
 to be done; and the moment acts of policy come to be 
 
 136 
 
accurately measured instead of having their value 
 assumed, the policy system is defunct, and political 
 economy, which has grown out of it, supersedes it. 
 That political economists will ere long take the direc- 
 tion of the state, appears beyond a doubt. 
 
 But neither is political economy the ultimate. It is a 
 step beyond policy, as the reign of court policy was a 
 step beyond the reign of court pleasure. But it is 
 logically insufficient. There are questions which it 
 cannot answer, or dare not answer. It must take the 
 money management -of the state, and determine the 
 mode in which taxes should be levied, as well as the 
 amount of taxes; and, in determining the mode in 
 which taxes ought to be levied, it must come between 
 two parties, — the laborers who create the wealth of 
 the country, and the landlords who consume the rents. 
 This position will bring political economy to a stand. 
 The difficulty is insoluble to political economy, and 
 a new system must grow, develop, and assume the 
 direction of the country. This new system is neces- 
 sarily politics, or the science of equity. 
 
 Political economy professes to teach how value 
 grows, increases, accumulates, and who makes it. The 
 latter question, solved by a fair exposition of ascer- 
 tained facts, first systematized, and then reduced to a 
 law, lands society on the grand question, " To whom 
 does it belong?" With this question political economy, 
 as such, has no concern. It is beyond political econ- 
 omy, higher than political economy, and is what polit- 
 ical economy is not, — it is final in theory. Let polit- 
 ical economy be as perfect as any science can possibly 
 be, beyond it there lies the question. To whom — to 
 what persons — does the created value belong? And 
 first and foremost must come the question of the land. 
 " Who is the proprietor of the created value? " This 
 
 1S7 
 
question arises necessarily so soon as political economy 
 has discovered who creates the value. And thus, poli- 
 tics, or the science of equity, springs necessarily in 
 chronological order out of political economy; and 
 when economists have directed the state affairs up to 
 those questions which they cannot answer, they must 
 cede the first place to the true politicians, or them- 
 selves become true politicians. And when that period 
 arrives, the political evolution is complete, and there 
 is the reign of equity or justice. 
 
 On these grounds, imperfectly as we have advanced 
 them, may be projected the natural probability of a 
 period yet to come, when justice shall be realized 
 on earth, to be followed by a period when Christianity 
 shall reign supreme, and call into real and systematic 
 action the higher and nobler sentiments of man. 
 
 CONCLUSION 
 
 Beneath the outward formula of science there lies 
 the everlasting truth, as beneath the outward forms 
 of nature there lies the everlasting power. 
 
 Posterior to the science of equity comes theology — 
 natural theology. By natural theology we do not 
 mean that which is accepted by the Church, but we 
 mean such a natural theology as shall convince intel- 
 lect as intellect, and thereby produce a unity of cre- 
 dence for the whole race of men. 
 
 We have, therefore, to inquire what kind of the- 
 ology can be taught by reason, assuming in the first 
 place that natural theology is impossible in its com- 
 plete form until men have arrived at a knowledge of 
 the natural universe. 
 
 Against the traditions of false gods and erroneous 
 worship, science enters the lists. It assumes as its 
 
 138 
 
first proposition, to base credence on evidence, and 
 thereby to evolve truth instead of error or supersti- 
 tion. Consequently it will invariably manifest itself 
 in scepticism. Scepticism in its legitimate form is 
 d'oubt, and doubt is one of the great elements of 
 humanity absolutely requisite to place knowledge on 
 a secure basis. Truth can have nothing to fear, but 
 everything to hope, from the most accurate survey 
 that men can possibly take of the region open to cog- 
 nition. 
 
 Scepticism has to achieve the destruction of super- 
 stition, but in the place of superstition it has nothing 
 to substitute. That man should permanently refrain 
 from a theological credence is out of the question. 
 There is either nothing whatever, or there is some per- 
 manently enduring something that was anterior to 
 man, that underlies all the operations of nature, and 
 that constructed, and continues to construct, all the 
 varied mechanisms, physical and mental, with which 
 man is acquainted; and this permanent element which 
 man posits, in accordance with the laws of his reason, 
 is what is meant by God. God therefore has a neces- 
 sary existence to the human mind ; and the main ques- 
 tion is not whether there is a God — ^but what, in fact, 
 are the attributes of God.? 
 
 That there Is a proof of God's existence, and of his 
 power and wisdom, so perfectly conclusive that it 
 shall command the assent of the reason of mankind, 
 we have no possible doubt ; but that such an argument 
 can be drawn from physical science (further than 
 power is concerned), we by no means admit. 
 
 In the works of nature, and the operations of nature 
 man intuitively perceives by his reason a power of 
 force; and the primordial force, if we make nothing 
 
 139 
 
objective but matter, necessarily lands us in panthe- 
 ism, which is at present the theolog-Ical credence of a 
 large portion of the scientific men on the Continent. 
 And out of this pantheism there is no scientific exit 
 until mind is made objective, and the facts of mind 
 are brought to bear on the facts of physics; so that 
 what was before only a primordial force becomes an 
 intelligent agent, of whom power is the attribute. 
 Pantheism is the theology of physical science; and 
 if there were no other science beyond physical science, 
 pantheism would be the last final form of scientific 
 credence. 
 
 The physical world does not present within the 
 field of contemplation the operation of mind. For 
 this we must turn to man. Man, when made objective, 
 is found to be possessed of intellectual capacity, of 
 executive power, and also of a moral nature, which 
 lays on him the imperative obligation of designing 
 certain ends, and of refraining from designing certain 
 other ends. And as man is as much a portion of 
 nature as is matter, we must have a power of such a 
 character as would account for this moral nature of 
 man, and to have this we must have the transformation 
 of mere natural theology Into moral theology. Men 
 may assume the character of the Moral Ruler of the 
 universe, but proven, in the same manner as any other 
 portion of science, it never can be, till moral science 
 is actually achieved and taught as a branch of knowl- 
 edge. 
 
 Nor are we to admit mere assumptions, and pre- 
 sumptions, and speculations, as science in the world 
 of morals any more than in the world of matter. 
 Either it Is true that a definite rule of moral action 
 can be discovered by the reason, or It follows of course 
 that rules of action are not naturally imperative; and 
 
 140 
 
if they be not naturally imperative it can only be a 
 superstition to consider them as obligatory. 
 
 We have already considered human action as far 
 as it involves the laws of political economy which 
 treats of the production of wealth. After that comes 
 social science, treating of the distribution of wealth, 
 and finally, politics, which treats of the laws which 
 should regulate interference. 
 
 These last two alone are entitled to the name of 
 moral science, which lays down the laws of human 
 duty. Thus, the consideration of man's relation to 
 man is the first period at which moral science makes 
 its appearance. 
 
 Every attempt to make a more complete theology 
 than science really warrants, only produces scepticism 
 on the part of those who find an inconclusive argu- 
 ment advanced as a demonstration. Moral theology, 
 strictly and purely scientific, is at present impossible 
 (that is, impossible for the world) : and impossible, 
 because moral science has not yet made its appear- 
 ance, and because moral theology depends on moral 
 science, and is an inference from it. In Britain, of 
 course. Scripture is the source of theology, and moral 
 theology is derived from the written revelation. But 
 on the Continent, philosophy is the theology of the 
 great mass of thinking men ; and their theology, de- 
 rived from the revelation of nature, does actually fol- 
 low the development of science. And as scepticism 
 was first posted with its negation, and then pantheism 
 with its more general affirmation, and now, instead 
 of a mere power, an intelligent power is beginning 
 to be seen as absolutely necessary to explain the phe- 
 nomena of nature, we may rest assured that, with the 
 development of social science and moral science (which 
 cannot fail to undergo their evolution in their order), 
 
 141 
 
there will arise necessarily a moral theology, and the 
 world will be indoctrinated with the theology of a 
 moral Deity. 
 
 Now, if it be true that all human science ends in 
 morals, and that natural theology follows the develop- 
 ment of science (and it can never legitimately be in 
 advance of science), then natural theology will come 
 ultimately to be a purely scientific moral theology, 
 and will thus be brought to the point where man iden- 
 tifies the God of Nature with the God of Scripture. 
 And thus the long-lost unity will be once more restored. 
 
 THE END 
 
 143 
 
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