Spencer's Synthetic  Philosophy.
(1.) FIRST PRINCIPLES..... $2.00
I. THE UNKNOWABLE.
II. LAWS OF THE KNOWABLE.
(2.) TIIE PRINCIPLES OF BIOLOGY. Vol.... $2.00
I. THE DATA OF BIOLOGY.
II. THE INDUCTIONS OF BIOLOGY.
III. THE EVOLUTION OF LIFE.
(3.) THE PRINCIPLES OF BIOLOGY. Vol. I... $2.00
IV. MORPHOLOGICAL DEVELOPMENT.
V. PHYSIOLOGICAL DEVELOPMENT.
VI. LAWS OF MULTIPLICATION.
(4.) THE PRINCIPLES OF PSYCHOLOGY. Vol. I... $2.00
I. THE DATA OF PSYCHOLOGY.
II. THE INDUCTIONS OF PSYCHOLOGY.
IIT. GENERAL SYNTHESIS.
IV. SPECIAL SYNTHESIS.
V. PHYSICAL SYNTHESIS.
(5.) THE PRINCIPLES OF PSYCHOLOGY. Vol. I... $2.00
VI. SPECIAL ANALYSIS.
VII. GENERAL ANALYSIS.
VIII. COROLLARIES.
(6) PRINCIPLES OF SOCIOLOGY. Vol. I..... $2.00
I. THE DATA OF SOCIOLOGY.
II. THIE INDUCTIONS OF SOCIOLOGY.
III. THE DOMESTIC RELATIONS.
(7.) PRINCIPLES OF SOCIOLOGY. Vol. II.... $2.00
IV. CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
V. POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
(8.) PRINCIPLES OF SOCIOLOGY. Vol. III.
*   *   *   *
(9.) PRINCIPLES OF MORALITY. Vol. I...
I. THiE DATA OF ETHICS...... $1.25
*   *   *   *
(10.) PRINCIPLES OF MORALITY. Vol. II. 
D.  PPLETON  & CO., PUBLIHER NEW
D. APPLETON & CO., PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK.




ESSAYS:
MORAL, POLITICAL AND ESTHETIC.
JY
IHEIBERT SPENCER.
AUTH1OB OF
LLUJSTRATIONS OF UNIVERSAL PROGRESS," "FIRST PRINCIPLES OF PHILOSOPIn'
"EDUCATION," "SOCIAL STATICS, " ELE.MENTS OF BIOLOGY," "ELEMENTB
OF PSYCHOLOGY," "CLASSIFICATION OF THE SCIENCOE,"
ETC., ETC., ETC.
NEW AND ENLARGED EDITION.
NEW YORK:
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY,
1, 3, AND 5 BOND STREET.
1888.




Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1864,
BY D. APPLETON & CO.,
1u the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the
Southern District of New York.




EDITOR'S PREFACE.
THE miscellaneous writings of Herbert Spencer,
originally published in various English periodicals, were
collected by the Author and reissued in London in two
volumes, under the title of " Essays Scientific, Political,
and Speculative," first and second series-the former
appearing in 185', and the latter in 1863. Neither of
these volumes has been printed in this country, though
a small edition of the second series was imported in
sheets, bound and sold in a few weeks. The increasing
demand for these works on this side of the Atlantic, and
the impracticability of obtaining them from England,
owing to the high rate of exchange, made it desirable
to republish them here. Accordingly, a portion of the
Essays, selected from both series, were recently reissued
under the title of " Illustrations of Universal Progress."
This collection embraced the more strictly scientific articles, and those which bore most directly upon the gen




4                     PrEFACE.
eral doctrine of Progress or Evolution. The present
volume puts the American public in possession of Mr.
Spencer's remaining essays.
It is to be observed, however, that nearly all that
this Author has written bears more or less directly upon
the theory of Evolution, and that his tendency is to
consider all subjects in their scientific aspects and relations; that is, he aims to seize and bring out with scientific precision, the fundamental principles of the subject
treated. This trait is eminently marked in his disquisitions upon Education, and will be found equally to characterize the essays now published.
The large success and high commendation which the
former volume has met with, shows that the genius of
Mr. Spencer is widely appreciated in this country, and
renders any laudation of his works unnecessary in this
place. But it is proper to call attention to the special
claims of several of the essays of this collection upon
the American public.  The nature of our political institutions implies, and their success demands, on the part
of the people, an acquaintance with those fundamental
principles which determine the reason, the scope, and
authority of all civil rule. Repudiating as we did, at
the outset of our national career, the ancient and prevailing forms of government; casting loose to a considerable extent from the traditions and precedents of the
past, and organizing a new system professedly founded
upon self-evident truths, and aiming at the establish.




PREFACE.                    5
meit of natural rights, it is obvious that our citizens
have a vital and peculiar interest in the elucidation of
those foundation truths which should guide the course
of legislation, and control the policy of government
And now when our political system is convulsed to its
centre, and we are passing into a new order of things,
this duty is pressed upon us with critical urgency, and
we are summoned with solemn and startling emphasis
to the task of moulding our civil policy into completer
harmony with those principles which advancing knowledge and a riper experience have combined to establish.
Mr. Spencer has given these subjects profound and
protracted study, and the views he advances are entitled
to grave consideration. A devoted student of science
in its comprehensive bearings upon the welfare and improvement of society, he has labored to unfold and illustrate those laws of human nature and human action,
of social organization and social growth, which rest at
the foundation of all intelligent administration of public
affairs. Without by any means assuming that his views
are final, it may be claimed that they mark an immense
advance in political philosophy, that they indicate the
inevitable direction of future progress, and throw important light upon numerous questions of immediate
and practical concern.
Although some of the following Essays may seem to
be confined to the consideration of English policy, yet
this limitation is only apparent.  English facts and




6                      PREFACE.
experiences are taken as examples and illustrations, but
the discussions strike through to principles of universal
moment and applicability. The line of thought opened
in portions of this volume is systematically pursued in
the Author's work entitled "Social Statics; or, the conditions essential to human happiness specified, and the
first of them developed," which is now in course of re.
publication.
NEw YORK, Sept. 10, 1864




CONTENTS..THE PHILOSOPHY OF STYLE,.... G 9
16-THE PHILOSOPHY OF STYLE.9....
II.-OVER-LEGISLATION,.....           48
III.-THE MORALS OF TRADE,.....  107
IV. —PERSONAL BEAUTY,.....      149
V.-REPRESENTATIVE GOVERNMENT,.                 163
VI.-PRISON-ETHICS,....               21C
VII.-RAILWAY MORALS AND RAILWAY POLICY,      ~.   251
VIII.-GRACEFULNESS,......                     312
IX.-STATE-TAMPERINGS WITH MONEY AND BANKS,.. 319
X.-PARLIAMENTARY REFORM: THE DANGERS AND THE
SAFEGUARDS,..                             353
KL-M —MILL Versus HAMILTON —THE TEST OF TRUTH,.. 883








I.
THE PHILOSOPHY OF STYLE.
(   OMM1ENTING on the seeming incongruity between
his father's argumentative powers and his ignorance
of formal logic, Tristram Shandy says:-" It was a matter
of just wonder with my worthy tutor, and two or three
fellows of that learned society, that a man who knew not
so much as the names of his tools, should be able to work
after that fashion with them." Sterne's intended implication that a knowledge of the principles of reasoning
neither makes, nor is essential to, a good reasoner, is
doubtless true. Thus, too, is it with grammar. As Dr.
Latham, condemning the usual school-drill in Lindley
Murray, rightly remarks:-" Gross vulgarity is a fault to
be prevented; but the proper prevention is to be got from
habit-not rules."  Similarly, there can be little question
that good composition is far less dependent upon acquaintance with its laws, than upon practice and natural aptitude. A clear head, a quick imagination, and a sensitive
ear, will go far towards making all rhetorical precepts
needless.  II  who daily hears and reads well-framed
sentences, will naturally more or less tend to use similar
ones. And where there exists any mental idiosyncrasy —
where there is a deficient verbal memory, or an inadequate




10           THE PHILOSOPRY OF STYLE.
sense of logical dependence, or but little perception of
order, or a lack of constructive ingenuity; no amount of
instruction will remedy the defect. Nevertheless, some
practical result may be expected from a familiarity with
the principles of style. The endeavour to conform to laws
may tell, though slowly. And if in no other way, yet,
as facilitating revision, a knowledge of the thing to be
achieved-a clear idea of what constitutes a beauty, and
what a blemish-cannot fail to be of service.
No general theory of expression seems yet to have
been enunciated.  The maxims contained in works on
composition and rhetoric, are presented in an unorganized
form. Standing as isolated dogmas-as empirical generalizations, they are neither so clearly apprehended, nor sc
much respected, as they would be were they deduced
from  some simple first principle.  We are told that
"brevity is the soul of wit." We hear styles condemned
as verbose or involved. Blair says that every needless
part of a sentence "interrupts the description and clogs
the image;" and again, that " long sentences fatigue the
reader's attention." It is remarked by Lord Kaimes, that
" to give the utmost force to a period, it ought, if possible,
to be closed with the word that makes the greatest figure."
That parentheses should be avoided and that Saxon words
should be used in preference to those of Latin origin, are
established precepts. But, however influential the truths
thus dogmatically embodied, they would be much more
influential if reduced to something like scientific ordination. In this, as in other cases, conviction will be greatly
strengthened when we understand the why. And we may
be sure that a comprehension of the general principle from
which the rules of composition result, will not only bring
them home to us with greater force, but will discover tc
us other rules of like origin.




ECONOMIZING THE READER'S ATTENTION.       11
On seeking for some clue to the law underlying these
current maxims, we may see shadowed forth in many of
them, the importance of economizing the reader's or hear
er's attention.  To so present ideas that they may be
apprehended with the least possible mental effort, is the
desideratum  towards which most of the rules above
quoted point. When we condemn writing that is wordy,
or confused, or intricate-when we praise this style as
easy, and blame that as fatiguing, we consciously or unconsciously assume this desideratum as our standard of
judgment. Regarding language as an apparatus of symbols for the conveyance of thought, we may say that, as
in a mechanical apparatus, the more simple and the better
arranged its parts, the greater will be the effect produced.
In either case, whatever force is absorbed by the machine
is deducted from the result. A reader or listener has at
each moment but a limited amount of mental power
available. To recognize and interpret the symbols presented to him, requires part of this power; to arrange and
combine the images suggested requires a further part; and
only that part which remains can be used for realizing the
thought conveyed. Hence, the more time and attention
it takes to receive and understand each sentence, the less
time and attention can be given to the contained idea;
and the less vividly will that idea be conceived.
How truly language must be regarded as a hindrance
to thought, though the necessary instrument of it, we
shall clearly perceive on remembering the comparative
force with which simple ideas are communicated by signs.
To say, " Leave the room," is less expressive than to point
to the door. Placing a finger on the lips is more forcible
than whispering, " Do not speak." A beck of the hand is
better than, " Come here." No phrase can convey the
idea of surprise so vividly as opening the eyes and raising
the eyebrows. A shrug of the shoulders would lose much




L2            THE PHILOSOPHY OF STYLE.
by translation into words.  Again, it may be remarked
that when oral language is employed, the strongest effects
are produced by interjections, which condense entire sentences into syllables. And in other cases, where custom
allows'us to express thoughts by single words, as in.Be
ware, Heigho, Fudge, much force would be lost by expanding them into specific propositions. Hence, carrying
out the metaphor that language is the vehicle of thought,
there seems reason to think that in all cases the friction
and inertia of the vehicle deduct from its efficiency; and
that in composition, the chief, if not the sole thing to be
done, is, to reduce this friction and inertia to the smallest
possible amount. Let us then inquire whether economy
of the recipient's attention is not the secret of effect, alike
in the right choice and collocation of words, in the best
arrangement of clauses in a sentence, in the proper order
of its principal and subordinate propositions, in the judicious use of simile, metaphor, and other figures of speech,
and even in the rhythmical sequence of syllables.
The greater forcibleness of Saxon English, or rather
non-Latin English, first claims our attention. The several
special reasons assignable for this may all be reduced to
the general reason-economy.  The most important of
them is early association. A child's vocabulary is almost
wholly Saxon. He says, I have, not I possess-I wish,
not I desire; he does not reflect, he thinks; he does not
beg for amusement, but for play; he calls things nice or
nasty, not pleasant or disagreeable.   The  synonyms
which he learns in after years, never become so closely, so
organically connected with the ideas signified, as do these
original words used in childhood; and hence the association remains less strong. But in what does a strong
association between a word and an idea differ from a weak
one?  Simply in the greater ease and rapidity of the
suggestive action. It can be in nothing else. Both of




ECONOMIC ADVANTAGES OF SAXON WORDS.    13
iwo words, if they be strictly synonymous, eventually call
up the same image. The expression-It is acid, must in
the end give rise to the same thought as-It is sour; but
because the term acid was learnt later in life, and has not
been so often followed by the thought symbolized, it does
not so readily arouse that thought as the term sour. If
we remember how  slowly and with what labour the
appropriate ideas follow unfamiliar words in another language, and how increasing familiarity with such words
brings greater rapidity and ease of comprehension; and
if we consider that the same process must have gone on
with the words of our mother tongue from childhood upwards, we shall clearly see that the earliest learnt and
oftenest used words, will, other things equal, call up
images with less loss of time and energy than their later
learnt synonyms.
The further superiority possessed by Saxon English in
its comparative brevity, obviously comes under the same
generalization. If it be an advantage to express an idea
in the smallest number of words, then will it be an advantage to express it in the smallest number of syllables. If
circuitous phrases and needless expletives distract the
attention and diminish the strength of the impression produced, then do surplus articulations do so.  A certain
effort, though commonly an inappreciable one, must be
required to recognize every vowel and consonant. If, as
all know, it is tiresome to listen to an indistinct speaker,
or read a badly-written manuscript; and if, as we cannot
doubt, the fatigue is a cumulative result of the attention
needed to catch successive syllables; it follows that attention is in such cases absorbed by each syllable. And if this
be true when the syllables are difficult of recognition, it
will also be true, though in a less degree, when the recognition of them is easy. Hence, the shortness of Saxon words
becomes a reason for their greater force. One qualification




14            THE PHILOSOPHY OF STYLE.
however, must not be overlooked. A word which in itself
embodies the most important part of the idea to be convey
ed, especially when that idea is an emotional one, may often
with advantage be a polysyllabic word. Thus it seems
more forcible to say, "It is magnificent," than "It is
grand."  The word vast is not so powerful a one as stu^
pendous.  Calling a thing nasty is not so effective as calling it disgusting.
There seem to be several causes for this exceptional
superiority of certain long words.  We may ascribe it
partly to the fact that a voluminous, mouth-filling epithet
is, by its very size, suggestive of largeness or strength;
witness the immense pomposity of sesquipedalian verbiage:
and when great power or intensity has to be suggested,
this association of ideas aids the effect. A further cause
may be that a word of several syllables admits of more
emphatic articulation; and as emphatic articulation is a
sign of emotion, the unusual impressiveness of the thing
named is implied by it. Yet another cause is that a long
word (of which the latter syllables are generally inferred
as soon as the first are spoken) allows the hearer's consciousness a longer time to dwell upon the quality predicated; and where, as in the above cases, it is to this predicated quality that the entire attention is called, an advantage results from keeping it before the mind for an appreciable time. The reasons which we have given for preferring short words evidently do not hold here. So that
to make our generalization quite correct we must say,
that while in certain sentences expressing strong feeling,
the word which more especially implies that feeling may
often with advantage be a many-syllabled or Latin one; in
the immense majority of cases, each word serving but
as a step to the idea embodied by the whole sentence,
should, if possible, be a one-syllabled or Saxon one.
Once more, that frequent cause of strength in Saxon




PRODUCTION OF VIVID IMPRESSIONS.         1
and other primitive words-their imitative character, may
be similarly resolved into the more general cause. Both
those directly imitative, as splash, bang, whiz, roar, &c.,
and those analogically imitative, as rough, smooth, keen,
blunt, thin, hard, crag, &c., have a greater or less likeness
to the things symbolized; and by making on the senses
impressions allied to the ideas to be called up, they save
part of the effort needed to call up such ideas, and leave
more attention for the ideas themselves.
The economy of the recipient's mental energy, into
which are thus resolvable the several causes of the strength
of Saxon English, may equally be traced in the superiority of specific over generic words. That concrete terms
produce more vivid impressions than abstract ones, and
should, when possible, be used instead, is a current maxim of composition.  As Dr. Campbell says, "The more
general the terms are, the picture is the fainter; the more
special they are, the brighter."  We should avoid such a
sentence as:
- In proportion as the manners, customs, and amusements of a nation are cruel and barbarous, the regulations
of their penal code will be severe.
And in place of it we should write:
-In proportion as men delight in battles, bull-fights,
and combats of gladiators, will they punish by hanging,
burning, and the rack.
This superiority of specific expressions is clearly due
to a saving of the effort required to translate words into
thoughts. As we do not think in generals but in particulars-as, whenever any class of things is referred to, we
represent it to ourselves by calling to mind individual
members of it; it follows that when an abstract word is
used, the hearer or reader has to choose from his stock of
images, one or more, by which he may figure to himself
the genus mentioned.  In doing this, some delay must




[6           THE PHILOSOPHY OF STYLE.
arise-some force be expended; and if, by employing a
specific term, an appropriate image can be at once suggested, an economy is achieved, and a more vivid impression
produced.
Turning now from the choice of words to their sequence, we shall find the same general principle hold
good. We have d priori reasons for believing that in
every sentence there is some one order of words more
effective than any other; and that this order is the one
which presents the elements of the proposition in the succession in which they may be most readily put together.
As in a narrative, the events should be stated in such sequence that the mind may not have to go backwards and
forwards in order to rightly connect them; as in a group
of sentences, the arrangement should be such, that each of
them may be understood as it comes, without waiting
for subsequent ones; so in every sentence, the sequence of
words should be that which suggests the constituents of
the thought in the order most convenient for the building
up that thought. Duly to enforce this truth, and to prepare the way for applications of it, we must briefly inquire
into the mental act by which the meaning of a series of
words is apprehended.
We cannot more simply do this than by considering the
proper collocation of the substantive and adjective. Is it
better to place the adjective before the substantive, or the
substantive before the adjective? Ought we to say with
the 1French-un cheval noir; or to say as we do-a black
horse? Probably, most persons of culture would decide
that one order is as good as the other. Alive to the bias
produced by habit, they would ascribe to that the preference they feel for our own form of expression.  They
would expect those educated in the use of the opposite
form to have an equal preference for that. And thus they
would conclude that neither of these instinctive judgments




LOCATION OF ADJECTIVES.             17
ts cf any worth.  There is, however, a philosophical
ground for deciding in favour of the English custom. If
" a horse black" be the arrangement, immediately on the
utterance of the word "horse," there arises, or tends to
arise, in the mind, a picture answering to that word; and
as there has been nothing to indicate what kind of horse,
any image of a horse suggests itself. Very likely, how.
ever, the image will be that of a brown horse: brown
horses being the most familiar. The result is that when
the word "black" is added, a check is given to the process of thought.  Either the picture of a brown horse
already present to the imagination has to be suppressed,
and the picture of a black one summoned in its place; or
else, if the picture of a brown horse be yet unformed, the
tendency to form it has to be stopped. Whichever is the
case, a certain amount of hindrance results. But if, on
the other hand, "a black horse " be the expression used,
no such mistake can be made. The word " black," indicating an abstract quality, arouses no definite idea. It
simply prepares the mind for conceiving some object of
that colour; and the attention is kept suspended until
that object is known. If, then, by the precedence of the
adjective, the idea is conveyed without liability to error,
whereas the precedence of the substantive is apt to produce a misconception; it follows that the one gives the
mind less trouble than the other, and is therefore more
forcible.
Possibly it will be objected that the adjective and
substantive come so close together, that practically they
may be considered as uttered at the same moment; and
that on hearing the phrase, " a horse black," there is not
time to imagine a wrongly-coloured horse before the word
"black" follows to prevent it. It must be owned that it
is not easy to decide by introspection whether this is so'r not. But there are facts collaterally implying that it




18           THE PHILObOPHY OF STYLE.
is not. Our ability to anticipate the words yet unspoken
is one of them. If the ideas of the hearer kept considera.
bly behind the expressions of the speaker, as the objection
assumes, he could hardly foresee the end of a sentence by
the time it was half delivered: yet this constantly hap.
pens. Were the supposition true, the mind, instead of
anticipating, would be continually falling more and more
in arrear. If the meanings of words are not realized as
fast as the words are uttered, then the loss of time over
each word must entail such an accumulation of delays as to
leave a hearer entirely behind. But whether the force of
these replies be or be not admitted, it will scarcely be denied
that the right formation of a picture will be facilitated by
presenting its elements in the order in which they are
wanted; even though the mind should do nothing until it
has received them all.
What is here said respecting the succession of the
adjective and substantive is obviously applicable, by
change of terms, to the adverb and verb. And without
further explanation, it will be manifest, that in the use
of prepositions and other particles, most languages spontaneously conform with more or less completeness to this
law.
On applying a like analysis to the larger divisions of a
sentence, we find not only that the same principle holds
good, but that the advantage of respecting it becomes
marked. In the arrangement of predicate and subject, for
example, we are at once shown that as the predicate
determines the aspect under which the subject is to be
conceived, it should be placed first; and the striking effect
produced by so placing it becomes comprehensible. Take
the often-quoted contrast between-" Great is Diana of
the Ephesians," and-" Diana of the Ephesians is great."
When the first arrangement is used, the utterance of the
word " great " arouses those vague associations of an im




ARRANGEMENT OF PREDICATE AND SUBJECT.    19
pressive nature with which it has been habitually connect.
ed; the imagination is prepared to clothe with high attri.
butes whatever follows; and when the words, " Diana of the
Ephesians," are heard, all the appropriate imagery which
can, on the instant, be summoned, is used in the formation of
the picture: the mind being thus led directly, and without error, to the intended impression. When, on the contrary, the reverse order is followed, the idea, " Diana of
the Ephesians," is conceived with no special reference to
greatness; and when the words, "is great," are added,
the conception has to be remodelled: whence arises a loss
of mental energy, and a corresponding diminution of
effect. The following verse from Coleridge's "Ancient
Mariner," though somewhat irregular in structure, well
illustrates the same truth:
"Alone, alone, all, all alone,
Alone on a wide wide sea!
And never a saint took pity on
My soul in agony."
Of course the principle equally applies when the predicate is a verb or a participle. And as effect is gained by
placing first all words indicating the quality, conduct, or
condition of the subject, it follows that the copula also
should have precedence. It is true, that the general habit
of our language resists this arrangement of predicate,
copula, and subject; but we may readily find instances of
the additional force gained by conforming to it. Thus in
the line from " Julius Caesar "-'' Then burst this mighty heart,"
priority is given to a word embodying both predicate and
copula. In a passage contained in " The Battle of Flodden Field," the like order is systematically employed with
great effect:




20             THE PHILOSOPHY OF STYLE.
" The Border slogan rent the sky I
A Home! a Gordon! was the cry;
Loud were the clanging blows:
Advanced,-forced back,-now low, now high,
The pennon sunk and rose;
As bends the bark's mast in the gale
When rent are rigging, shrouds, and sail,
It wavered'mid the foes."
Pursuing the principle yet further, it is obvious that
fbr producing the greatest effect, not only should the main
divisions of a sentence observe this sequence, but the subdivisions of these should be similarly arranged. In nearly
all cases, the predicate is accompanied by some limit or
qualification called its complement. Commonly, also, the
circumstances of the subject, which form its complement,
have to be specified. And as these qualifications and circumstances must determine the mode in which the acts
and things they belong to are conceived, precedence should
be given to them.  Lord Kaimes notices the fact that this
order is preferable; though without giving the reason.
He says:-" When a circumstance is placed at the beginning of the period, or near the beginning, the transition
from it to the principal subject is agreeable: is like ascending or going upward." A sentence arranged in illustration of this will be desirable. Here is one:
- Whatever it may be in theory, it is clear that in
practice the French idea of liberty is-the right of every
man to be master of the rest.
In this case, were the first two clauses, up to the word'practice" inclusive, which qualify the subject, to be
placed at the end instead of the beginning, much of the
force would be lost; as thus:
- The French idea of liberty is-the right of eve y
man to be master of ti e rest; in practice at least, if not
in theory.




ORDER OF THE PARTS OF SENTENCES.            21
Similarly with respect to the conditions under which
any fact is predicated. Observe in the following example
the effect of putting them last:
- How immense would be the stimulus to progress,
were the honour now given to wealth and title given exclusively to high achievements and intrinsic worth!
And then observe the superior effect of putting them
first:
— Were the honour now given to wealth and title
given exclusively to high achievements and intrinsic worth,
how immense would be the stimulus to progress!
The effect of giving priority to the complement of the
predicate, as well as the predicate itself, is finely displayed
in the opening of " Hyperion":
"Deep in the shady sadness of a vale
Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn,
Far from thefiery noon and eve's one star
Sat gray-haired Saturn, quiet as a stone."
Here it will be observed, not only that the predicate
" sat " precedes the subject " Saturn," and that the three
lines in italics, constituting the complement of the predicate, come before it; but that in the structure of that
complement also, the same order is followed: each line
being so arranged that the qualifying words are placed
before the words suggesting concrete images.
The right succession of the principal and subordinate
propositions in a sentence manifestly depends on the same
law. Regard for economy of the recipient's attention,
which, as we find, determines the best order for the subject, copula, predicate, and their complements, dictates
that che subordinate proposition shall precede the principal one, when the sentence includes two. Containing, as
the subordinate proposition does, some qualifying or ex
planatory idea, its priority prevents misconception of the




22           THE PHILOSOPHY OF STYLE.
principal one; and therefore saves the mental effort needed
to correct such misconception. This will be seen in the
annexed example.
- The secresy once maintained in respect to the parliamentary debates, is still thought needful in diplomacy
and in virtue of this secret diplomacy, England may any
day be unawares betrayed by its ministers into a war costing a hundred thousand lives, and hundreds of millions of
treasure: yet the English pique themselves on being a
self-governed people.
The two subordinate propositions, ending with the
semicolon and colon respectively, almost wholly determine
the meaning of the principal proposition with which it
concludes; and the effect would be lost were they placed
last instead of first.
The general principle of right arrangement in sen
tences, which we have traced in its application to the leading divisions of them, equally determines the proper order
of their minor divisions. In every sentence of any complexity the complement to the subject contains several
clauses, and that to the predicate several others; and
these may be arranged in greater or less conformity to the
law of easy apprehension. Of course with these, as with
the larger members, the succession should be from the less
specific to the more specific-from the abstract to the con
crete.
Now, however, we must notice a further condition to
be fulfilled in the proper construction of a sentence; but
still a condition dictated by the same general principle
with the other: the condition, namely, that the words and
expressions most nearly related in thought shall be brought
the closest together.  Evidently the single words, the
minor clauses, and the leading divisions of every proposition, severally qualify each other. The longer the time
that elapses between the mention of any qualifying mem



COMBINING THE MEMBERS OF A SENTENCE.    23
her and the member qualified, the longer must the mind
be exerted in carrying forward the qualifying member
ready for use. And the more numerous the qualifications
to be simultaneously remembered and rightly applied,
the greater will be the mental power expended, and the
smaller the effect produced. Hence, other things equal,
force will be gained by so arranging the members. of a
sentence that these suspensions shall at any moment be
the fewest in number; and shall also be of the shortest
duration. The following is an instance of defective combination:
A modern newspaper-statement, though probably
true, would be laughed at, if quoted in a book as testimony; but the letter of a court gossip is thought good
historical evidence, if written some centuries ago.
A rearrangement of this, in accordance with the principle indicated above, will be found to increase the effect.
Thus:
- Though probably true, a modern newspaper-statement quoted in a book as testimony, would be laughed
at; but the letter of a court gossip, if written some centuries ago, is thought good historical evidence.
By making this change, some of the suspensions are
avoided and others shortened; while there is less liability
to produce premature conceptions. The passage quoted
below from "Paradise Lost" affords a fine instance of a
sentence well arranged; alike in the priority of the subordinate members, in the avoidance of long and numerous
suspensions, and in the correspondence between the order
of the clauses and the sequence of the phenomena described, which, by the way, is a further prerequisite to
easy comprehension, and therefore to effect.
"As when a prowling wolf,
Whom hunger drives to seek new haunt for prey,
2




4J4       TTHE PHILOSOPHY OF STYLE.
Watching where shepherds pen their flocks at eve
In hurdled cotes amid the field secure,
Leaps o'er the fence with ease into the fold:
Or as a thief bent to unhoard the cash
Of some rich burgher, whose substantial doors,
Cross-barr'd, and bolted fast, fear no assault,
In at the window climbs, or o'er the tiles:
So clomb the first grand thief into God's fold;
So since into his church lewd hirelings climb."
The habitual use of sentences in which all or most of
the descriptive and limiting elements precede those described and limited, gives rise to what is called the inverted style: a title which is, however, by no means confined to this structure, but is often used where the order
of the words is simply unusual. A more appropriate title
would be the direct style, as contrasted with the other, or
indirect style: the peculiarity of the one being, that it
conveys each thought into the mind step by step with little liability to error; and of the other, that it gets the
right thought conceived by a series of approximations.
The superiority of the direct over the indirect form of
sentence, implied by the several conclusions that have
been drawn, must not, however, be affirmed without reservation.  Though, up to a certain point, it is well for the
qualifying clauses of a period to precede those qualified;
yet, as carrying forward each qualifying clause costs some
mental effort, it follows that when the number of them
and the time they are carried become great, we reach a
limit beyond which more is lost than is gained.  Other
things equal, the arrangement should be such that no concrete image shall be suggested until the materials out of
which it is to be made have been presented.  And yet, as
lately pointed out, other things equal, the fewer the materials to be held at once, and the shorter the distance
they have to be borne, the better.  Hence in some cases




MUTST VARY WITH THE MIND ADDRESSED.         25:t becomes a question whether most mental effort will be
entailed by the many and long suspensions, or by the correction of successive misconceptions.
This question may sometimes be decided by considering the capacity of the persons addressed.  A greater
grasp of mind is required for the ready comprehension of
thoughts expressed in the direct manner, where the sentences are anywise intricate. To recollect a number of
preliminaries stated in elucidation of a coming idea, and
to apply them all to the formation of it when suggested,
demands a good memory and considerable power of concentration. To one possessing these, the direct method
will mostly seem the best; while to one deficient in them
it will seem the worst. Just as it may cost a strong man
less effort to carry a hundred-weight from place to place
at once, than by a stone at a time; so, to an active mind
it may be easier to bear along all the qualifications of an
idea and at once rightly form it when named, than to first
imperfectly conceive such idea, and then carry back to it,
one by one, the details and limitations afterwards mentioned. While conversely, as for a boy the only possible
mode of transferring a hundred-weight, is that of taking
it in portions; so, for a weak mind, the only possible mode
of forming a compound conception may be that of building it up by carrying separately its several parts.
That the indirect method-the method of conveying
the meaning by a series of approximations-is best fitted
for the uncultivated, may indeed be inferred from their
habitual use of it. The form of expression adopted by
the savage, as in-" Water, give me," is the simplest type
of the approximate arrangement.  In pleonasms, which
are comparatively prevalent among the uneducated, the
same essential structure is seen; as, for instance, in-" The
men, they were there."  Again, the old possessive case"The king, his crown," conforms to the like order ot




26            THE PHILOSOPHY OF STYLE.
thought. Moreover, the fact that the indirect mode is
called the natural one, implies that it is the one sponta
neously employed by the common people: that is-the
one easiest for undisciplined minds.
There are many cases, however, in which neither the
direct nor the indirect structure is the best; but where an
intermediate structure is preferable to both. When the
number of circumstances and qualifications to be included
in the sentence is great, the most judicious course is neither to enumerate them all before introducing the idea to
which they belong, nor to put this idea first and let it be
remodelled to agree with the particulars afterwards mentioned; but to do a little of each. Take a case. It is
desirable to avoid so extremely indirect an arrangement
as the following:
"We came to our journey's end, at last, with no
small difficulty, after much fatigue, through deep roads,
and bad weather."
Yet to transform this into an entirely indirect sentence
would not produce a satisfactory effect; as witness:- At last, with no small difficulty, after much fatigue, through deep roads, and bad weather, we came to
our journey's end.
Dr. Whately, from whom we quote the first of these
two arrangements, proposes this construction:"At last, after much fatigue, through deep roads
and bad weather, we came, with no small difficulty, to our
journey's end."
Here it will be observed that by introducing the words
" we came" a little earlier in the sentence, the labour of
carrying forward so many particulars is diminished, and
the subsequent qualification "with no small difficulty"
entails an addition to the thought that is very easily made.
But a further improvement may be produced by intro.
duicing the words " we came " still earlier; especially if at




THE ABSTRACT SHOULD PRECEDE THE CONCRETE. 27
the same time the qualifications be rearranged in conformity with the principle already explained, that the more
abstract elements of the thought should come before the
more concrete.  Observe the better effect obtained by
making these two changes:
-At last, with no small difficulty, and after much
fatigue, we came, through deep roads and bad weather, to
our journey's end.
This reads with comparative smoothness; that iswith less hindrance from suspensions and reconstructions
of thought-with less mental effort.
Before dismissing this branch of our subject, it should
be further remarked, that even when addressing the most
vigorous intellects, the direct style is unfit for communicating ideas of a complex or abstract character. So long
as the mind has not much to do, it may be well able to
grasp all the preparatory clauses of a sentence, and to use
them effectively; but if some subtlety in the argument
absorb the attention-if every faculty be strained in endeavouring to catch the speaker's or writer's drift, it may
happen that the mind, unable to carry on both processes
at once, will break down, and allow the elements of the
thought to lapse into confusion.
Turning now to consider figures of speech, we may
equally discern the same general law of effect. Underlying
all the rules given for the choice and right use of them,
we shall find the same fundamental requirement-economy
of attention It is indeed chiefly because they so well
subserve this requirement, that figures of speech are employed. To bring the mind more easily to the desired
conception, is in many cases solely, and in all cases mainly,
their object.
Let us begin with the figure called Synechdoche. The
advantage sometimes gained by putting a part for the




28            THE PHILOSOPHY OF STYLE.
whole, is due to the more convenient, or more accurate,
presentation of the idea. If, instead of saying " a fleet of
ten ships," we say " a fleet of ten sail," the picture of a
group of vessels at sea is more readily suggested; and is so
because the sails constitute the most conspicuous parts of
vessels so circumstanced: whereas the word ships would
very likely remind us of vessels in dock. Again, to say,
" All hands to the pumps," is better than to say, "All
men to the pumps;" as it suggests the men in the special
attitude intended, and so saves effort. Bringing "gray
hairs with sorrow to the grave," is another expression, the
effect of which has the same cause.
The occasional increase of force produced by MIetonymy may be similarly accounted for. " The low morality
of the bar," is a phrase both more brief and significant
than the literal one it stands for. A belief in the ultimate
supremacy of intelligence over brute force, is conveyed in
a more concrete, and therefore more realizable form, if we
substitute the pen and the sword for the two abstract
terms. To say, "Beware of drinking!" is less effective
than to say, " Beware of the bottle i" and is so, clearly
because it calls up a less specific image.
The Simile is in many cases used chiefly with a view
to ornament; but whenever it increases theforce of a passage, it does so by being an economy. Here is an instance:
-The illusion that great men and great events came
oftener in early times than now, is partly due to historical
perspective. As in a range of equidistant columns, the
farthest off look the closest; so, the conspicuous objects
of the past seem more thickly clustered the more remote
they are.
To construct by a process of literal explanation, the
thought thus conveyed, would take many sentences; and
the first elements of the picture would become faint while
the imagination was busy in adding the others. But by




EFFECT OF FIGURES OF SPEECH.                 29
the help of a comparison all effort is saved; the picture is.nstantly realized, and its full effect produced.
Of the position of the Simile,* it needs only to remark,
that what has been said respecting the order of the adjective and substantive, predicate and subject, principal
and subordinate propositions, &c., is applicable here. As
whatever qualifies should precede whatever is qualified,
force will generally be gained by placing the simile before
the object to which it is applied.  That this arrangement
is the best, may be seen in the following passage from the
"Lady of the Lake":"As wreath of snow, on mountain breast,
Slides from the rock that gave it rest,
Poor Ellen glided from her stay,
And at the monarch's feet she lay."
Inverting these couplets will be found to diminish the effect considerably.  There are cases, however, even where
the simile is a simple one, in which it may with advantage
be placed last; as in these lines from Alexander Smith's
"Life Drama ":" I see the future stretch
All dark and barren as a rainy sea."
The reason for this seems to be, that so abstract an
idea as that attaching to the word " future," does not present itself to the mind in any definite form; and hence
the subsequent arrival at the simile entails no reconstruction of the thought.
Such, however, are not the only cases in which this or* Properly the term " simile" is applicable only to the entire figure, inclusive of the two things compared and the comparison drawn between
them. But as there exists no name for the illustrative member of the fig.
ure, there seems no alternative but to employ " simile " to express this also
This context will in each case show in which sense the word is used.




30             THE PHILOSOPHY OF STYLE.
der is the most forcible. As the advantage of putting the
simile before the object depends on its being carried for
ward in the mind to assist in forming an image of the object; it must happen that if, from  length or complexity,
it cannot be so carried forward, the advantage is not
gained.  The annexed sonnet, by Coleridge, is defective
from this cause:
"As when a child, on some long winter's night,
Affrighted, clinging to its grandam's knees,
With eager wond'ring and perturb'd delight
Listens strange tales of fearful dark decrees,
Mutter'd to wretch by necromantic spell;
Or of those hags who at the witching time
Of murky midnight, ride the air sublime,
And mingle foul embrace with fiends of hell;
Cold horror drinks its blood! Anon the tear
More gentle starts, to hear the beldame tell
Of pretty babes, that lov'd each other dear,
Murder'd by cruel uncle's mandate fell:
Ev'n such the shiv'ring joys thy tones impart,
Ev'n so, thou, Siddons, meltest my sad heart."
Here, from the lapse of time and accumulation of circumstances, the first part of the comparison is forgotten
before its application is reached; and requires re-reading.
Had the main idea been first mentioned, less effort would
have been required to retain it, and to modify the conception of it into harmony with the comparison, than to remember the comparison, and refer back to its successive
features for help in forming the final image.
The superiority of the lMtaphor to the Simile is ascribed by Dr. Whately to the fact that " all men are more
gratified at catching the resemblance for themselves, than
in having it pointed out to them."  But after what has
been said, the great economy it achieves will seem  the
more probable cause.  Lear's exclamation —




ECONOMIC EFFECT OF THE METAPHOR.           31
"Ingratitude! thou marble-hearted fiend,"
would lose part of its effect were it changed into" Ingratitude! thou fiend with heart like marble;"
and the loss would result partly from the position of the
simile and partly from the extra number of words required.
When the comparison is an involved one, the greater force
of the metaphor, consequent on its greater brevity, becomes much more conspicuous. If, drawing an analogy
between mental and physical phenomena, we say,
- As, in passing through the crystal, beams of white
light are decomposed into the colours of the rainbow; so,
in traversing the soul of the poet, the colourless rays of
truth are transformed into brightly-tinted poetry;it is clear that in receiving the double set of words expressing the two halves of the comparison, and in carrying the one half to the other, considerable attention is
absorbed. Most of this is saved, however, by putting the
comparison in a metaphorical form, thus:
- The white light of truth, in traversing the manysided transparent soul of the poet, is refracted into irishued poetry.
How much is conveyed in a few words by the help of
the Metaphor, and how vivid the effect consequently produced, may be abundantly exemplified. From  "A Life
Drama" may be quoted the phrase,' I spear'd him with a jest,"
as a fine instance among the many which that poem contains. A passage in the " Prometheus Unbound," of Shel.!ey, displays the power of the metaphor to great adva?
tage:
"  ethought among the lawns together
We wandered, underneath the young gray dawn,
And multitudes of dense white fleecy clouds




32             THE PHILOSOPHY OF STYLE.
Were wandering in thick flocks along the mountains
Shepherded by the slow unwilling wind."
This last expression is remarkable for the distinctness
with which it realizes the features of the scene: bringing
the mind, as it were, by a bound to the desired conception.
But a limit is put to the advantageous use of the Metaphor, by the condition that it must be sufficiently simple
to be understood from a hint. Evidently, if there be any
obscurity in the meaning or application of it, no economy
of attention will be gained; but rather the  reverse.
Hence, when the comparison is complex, it is usual to
have recourse to the Simile. There is, however, a species
of figure, sometimes classed under Allegory, but which
might, perhaps, be better called Compound Metaphor, that
enables us to retain the brevity of the metaphorical form
even where the analogy is intricate. This is done by indicating the application of the figure at the outset, and then
leaving the mind to continue the parallel. Emerson has
employed it with great effect in the first of his " Lectures
on the Times":
" The main interest which any aspects of the Times can have
for us, is the great spirit which gazes through them, the light
which they can shed on the wonderful questions, What are we,
and Whither do we tend? We do not wish to be deceived. Here
we drift, like white sail across the wild ocean, now bright on the
wave. now darkling in the trough of the sea; but from what port
did we sail? Who knows? Or to what port are we bound?
Who knows? There is no one to tell us but such poor weathertossed mariners as ourselves, whom we speak as we pass, or who
have hoisted some signal, or floated to us some letter in a bottle
from afar. But what know they more than we? They also found
themselves on this wondrous sea. No; from the older sailors
nothing. Over all their speaking-trumpets the gray sea and the
loud winds answer~-Not in us; not in Time."
The division of the Simile from the Metaphor is by no




FIGURES COMPLETED BY THE REA)ER.           33
means a definite one. Between the one extreme in which
the two elements of the comparison are detailed at full
length and the analogy pointed out, and the other extreme
in which the comparison is implied instead of stated, come
intermediate forms, in which the comparison is partly
stated and partly implied. For instance:
- Astonished at the performances of the English
plough, the Hindoos paint it, set it up, and worship it;
thus turning a tool into an idol: linguists do the same
with language.
There is an evident advantage in leaving the reader or
hearer to complete the figure. And generally these intermediate forms are good in proportion as they do this; provided the mode of completing it be obvious.
Passing over much that may be said of like purport
upon Hyperbole, Personification, Apostrophe, &c., let us
close our remarks upon construction by a typical example
The general principle which has been enunciated is, that
other things equal, the force of all verbal forms and arrangements is great, in proportion as the time and mental
effort they demand from the recipient is small. The corollaries from this general principle have been severally illustrated; and it has been shown that the relative goodness
of any two modes of expressing an idea, may be determined by observing which requires the shortest process of
thought for its comprehension. But though conformity
in particular points has been exenplified, no cases of complete conformity have yet been quoted. It is indeed difficult to find them; for the English idiom does not commonly permit the order which theory dictates. A few,
however, occur in Ossian. Here is one:
"As autumn's dark storms pour from two echoing hills, so
towards each other approached the heroes. As two dark streams
from high rocks meet and mix, and roar on the plain: loud, rough,
and dark in battle meet Lochlin and Inisfail. * * * As the




84            THE PHILOSOPHY OF STYLE.
troubled noise of the ocean when roll the waves on high; as the
last peal of the thunder of heaven; such is noise of the battle."
Except in the position of the verb in the first two similies, the theoretically best arrangement is fully carried
out in each of these sentences. The simile comes before
the qualified image, the adjectives before the substantives,
the predicate and copula before the subject, and their respective complements before them. That the passage is
open to the charge of being bombastic proves nothing; or
rather, proves our case. For what is bombast but a force
of expression too great for the magnitude of the ideas embodied?  All that may rightly be inferred is, that only in
very rare cases, and then only to produce a climax, should
all the conditions of effective expression be fulfilled.
Passing on to a more complex application of the doctrine with which we set out, it must now be remarked,
that not only in the structure of sentences, and the use
of figures of speech, may economy of the recipient's mental energy be assigned as the cause of force; but that in
the choice and arrangement of the minor images, out of
which some large thought is to be built up, we may trace
the same condition to effect.  To select from  the sentiment, scene, or event described, those typical elements
which carry many others along with them; and so, by
saying a few things but suggesting many, to abridge the
description; is the secret of producing a vivid impression.
An extract from  Tennyson's "Mariana" will well illus
irate this:'All day within the dreamy house,
The door upon the hinges creaked,
The blue fly sung i' the pane; the mouse
Behind the mouldering wainscot shrieked,
Or from the crevice peered about."




THE SECRET OF VIVID IMPRESSIONS.           35
The several circumstances here specified bring with
them  many appropriate associations.  Our attention is
rarely drawn by the buzzing of a fly in the window, save
when every thing is still. While the inmates are moving
about the house, mice usually keep silence; and it is only
when extreme quietness reigns that they peep from their
retreats. Hence each of the facts mentioned, presupposing numerous others, calls up these with more or less distinctness; and revives the feeling of dull solitude with
which they are connected in our experience.  Were
all these facts detailed instead of suggested, the attention would be so frittered away that little impression of
dreariness would be produced. Similarly in other cases.
Whatever the nature of the thought to be conveyed, this
skilful selection of a few particulars which imply the rest,
is the key to success. In the choice of competent ideas,
as in the choice of expressions, the aim must be to convey
the greatest quantity of thoughts with the smallest quantity of words.
The same principle may in some cases be advantageously carried yet further, by indirectly suggesting some
entirely distinct thought in addition to the one expressed.
Thus if we say,
-The head,f a good classic is as full of ancient
myths, as that of a servant-girl of ghost stories;
it is manifest that besides the fact asserted, there is an
implied opinion respecting the small value of classical
knowledge: and as this implied opinion is recognized
much sooner than it can be put into words, there is gain
in omitting it. In other cases, again, great effect is produced by an overt omission; provided the nature of the
idea left out is obvious. A good instance of this occurs
in " Heroes and Hero-worship."  After describing the way
in which Burns was sacrificed to the idle curiosity of
Lion-hunters-people who came not out of sympathy but




36            THE PHILOSOPHY OF STYLE.
merely to see him-people who sought a little amusement,
and who got their amusement while " the Hero's life went
for it!" Carlyle suggests a parallel thus:
" Richter says, in the Island of Sumatra there is a kind
of' Light-chafers,' large Fire-flies, which people stick upon
spits, and illuminate the ways with at night. Persons
of condition can thus travel with a pleasant radiance,
which they much admire. Great honour to the Fire-flies!
But-!-"
Before inquiring whether the law of effect, thus fai
traced, explains the superiority of poetry to prose, it will
be needful to notice some supplementary causes of force
in expression, that have not yet been mentioned. These
are not, properly speaking, additional causes; but rather
secondary ones, originating from those already specifiedreflex results of them. In the first place, then, we may
remark that mental excitement spontaneously prompts the
use of those forms of speech which have been pointed out
as the most effective. "Out with him!" "Away with
him!" are the natural utterances of angry citizens at a
disturbed  meeting.  A  voyager, describing a terrible
storm he had witnessed, would rise to some such climax
as-" Crack went the ropes and down came the mast."
Astonishment may be heard expressed in the phrase"N ever was there such a sight!" All of which sentences
are, it will be observed, constructed after the direct type.
Again, every one knows that excited persons are given to
figures of speech. The vituperation of the vulgar abounds
with them: often, indeed, consists of little else. "Beast,"
"brute," "gallows rogue," " cut-throat villain," these, and
other like metaphors and metaphorical epithets, at once
call to mind a street quarrel. Further, it may be noticed
that extreme brevity is another characterist'c of passion.
ate language. The sentences are generally incomplete;




PECULIARITIES OF PASSIONATE LANGUAGE.      37
the particles are omitted; and frequently important words
are left to be gathered from the context. Great admiration does not vent itself in a precise proposition, as-" It
is beautiful;" but in the simple exclamation,-" Beauti.
ful!"  He who, when reading a lawyer's letter, should
say, "Vile rascal!" would be thought angry; while, "IIe
is a vile rascal," would imply comparative coolness. Thus
we see that alike in the order of the words, in the frequent use of figures, and in extreme conciseness, the natural utterances of excitement conform to the theoretical
conditions of forcible expression.
Hence, then, the higher forms of speech acquire a sec.
ondary strength from association. Having, in actual life,
habitually heard them in connection with vivid mental
impressions; and having been accustomed to meet with
them in the most powerful writing; they come to have in
themselves a species of force.  The emotions that have
from time to time been produced by the strong thoughts
wrapped up in these forms, are partially aroused by the
forms themselves. They create a certain degree of animation; they induce a preparatory sympathy; and when the
striking ideas looked for are reached, they are the more
vividly realized.
The continuous use of these modes of expression that
are alike forcible in themselves and forcible from their
associations, produces the peculiarly impressive species of
composition which we call poetry. Poetry, we shall find,
habitually adopts those symbols of thought, and those
methods of using them, which instinct and analysis agree
in choosing as most effective; and becomes poetry by vir.
tue of doing this. On turning back to the various specimens that have been quoted, it will be seen that the direct
or inverted form of sentence predominates in them; and
that to a degree quite inadmissible in prose. And not
Only in the frequency, but in what is termed the violence




38            IIIE PHILOSOPHY OF STYLE.
of the inversions, will this distinction be remarked. In
the abundant use of figures, again, we may recognize the
same truth. Metaphors, similes, hyperboles, and personifications, are the poet's colours, which he has liberty to
employ almost without limit. We characterize as " poetcal" the prose which uses these appliances of language
with any frequency; and condemn it as " over florid" or
"affected" long  efore they occur with the profusion allowed in verse.  Further, let it be remarked that in brevity-the other requisite of forcible expression which theory
points out, and emotion spontaneously fulfils-poetical
phraseology similarly differs from  ordinary phraseology.
Imperfect periods are frequent; elisions are perpetual; and
many of the minor words, which would be deemed essential in prose, are dispensed with.
Thus poetry, regarded as a vehicle of thought, is especially impressive partly because it obeys all the laws of
effective speech, and partly because in so doing it imitates
the natural utterances of excitement.  While the matter
embodied is idealized emotion, the vehicle is the idealized
language of emotion. As the musical composer catches
the cadences in which our feelings of joy and sympathy,
grief and despair, vent themselves, and out of these germs
evolves melodies suggesting higher phases of these feelings; so, the poet developes from the typical expressions
in which men utter passion and sentiment, those choice
forms of verbal combination in which concentrated passion
and sentiment may be fitly presented.
There is one peculiarity of poetry conducing much to
its effect-the peculiarity which is indeed usually thought
its characteristic one-still remaining to be considered:
we mean its rhythmical structure.  This, improbable
though it seems, will be found to come under the same
generalization with the others. Like each of them, it is
an idealization of the natural language of strong emotion,




CHIARACTERISTICS OF RHYTHMICAL EXPRESSION.   39
fli.ch is known to be more or less metrical if the emotion
be not too violent; and like each of them it is an economy
of the reader's or hearer's attention. In the peculiar tone
and manner we adopt in uttering versified language, may
)e discerned its relationship to the feelings; and the pleasire which its measured movement gives us, is ascribable
to the comparative ease with which words metrically arranged can be recognized.
This last position will scarcely be at once admitted;
but a little explanation will show its reasonableness. For
if, as we have seen, there is an expenditure of mental
energy in the mere act of listening to verbal articulations,
or in that silent repetition of them which goes on in reading-if the perceptive faculties must be in active exercise
to identify every syllable-then, any mode of so combining words as to present a regular recurrence of certain
traits which the mind can anticipate, will diminish that
strain upon the attention required by the total irregularity of prose.  Just as the body, in receiving a series of
varying concussions, must keep the muscles ready to meet
the most violent of them, as not knowing when such may
come; so, the mind in receiving unarranged articulations,
must keep its perceptives active enough to recognize the
least easily caught sounds.  And as, if the concussions
recur in a definite order, the body may husband its forces
by adjusting the resistance needful for each concussion;
so, if the syllables be rhythmically arranged, the mind
may economize its energies by anticipating the attention
required for each syllable.
Far-fetched though this idea will perhaps be thought,
a little introspection will countenance it. That we do
take advantage of metrical language to adjust our perceptive faculties to the force of the expected articulations, is
clear from the fact that we are balked by halting versification.  Much as at the bottom of a flight of stairs, a step




tO            THE PHILOSOPHY OF STYLE.
more or less than we counted upon gives us a shock; so
too, does a misplaced accent or a supernumerary syllable.
In the one case, we know that there is an erroneous preadjustment; and we can scarcely doubt that there is one
in the other. But if we habitually preadjust our perceptions to the measured movement of verse, the physical
analogy above given renders it probable that by so doing
we economize attention; and hence that metrical language
is more effective than prose, because it enables us to do
this.
Were there space, it might be worth while to inquire
whether the pleasure we take in rhyme, and also that
which we take in euphony, are not partly ascribable to
the same general cause.
A few paragraphs only, can be devoted to a second
division of our subject that here presents itself. To pursue in detail the laws of effect, as applying to the larger
features of composition, would carry us beyond our lim
its. But we may briefly indicate a further aspect of the
general principle hitherto traced out, and hint a few of its
wider applications.
Thus far, then, we have considered only those causes
)f force in language which depend upon economy of the
mental energies: we have now to glance at those which
depend upon economy of the mental sensibilities.  Questionable though this division may be as a psychological
one, it will yet serve roughly to indicate the remaining
field of investigation. It will suggest that besides considering the extent to which any faculty or group of faculties
is tasked in receiving a form of words and realizing its
contained idea, we have to consider the state in which
this faculty or group of faculties is left; and how the
reception of subseque  nt sentences and images will be influenced by that state. Without going at length into so




ECONOMY OF THE MENTAL SENSIBILITIES.        41
wide a topic as the exercise of faculties and its reactive
effects, it will be sufficient here to call to mind that every
faculty (when in a state of normal activity) is most capable at the outset; and that the change in its condition,
which ends in what we term exhaustion, begins simultaneously with its exercise. This generalization, with which
we are all familiar in our bodily experiences, and which
our daily language recognizes as true of the mind as a
whole, is equally true of each mental power, from the
simplest of the senses to the most complex of the sentiments. If we hold a flower to the nose for long, we become insensible to its scent. We say of a very brilliant
flash of lightning that it blinds us; which means that our
eyes have for a time lost their ability to appreciate light.
After eating a quantity of honey, we are apt to think our.ea is without sugar. The phrase " a deafening roar," implies that men find a very loud sound temporarily incapacitates them for hearing faint ones. To a hand which has
for some time carried a heavy body, small bodies afterwards lifted seem to have lost their weight. Now, the
truth at once recognized in these, its extreme manifestations, may be traced throughout. It may be shown that
alike in the reflective faculties, in the imagination, in the
perceptions of the beautiful, the ludicrous, the sublime, in
the sentiments, the instincts, in all the mental powers,
however we may classify them-action exhausts; and that
in proportion as the action is violent, the subsequent prostration is great.
Equally, throughout the whole nature, may be traced
the law that exercised faculties are ever tending to resume
their original state. Not only after continued rest, do
they regain their full power-not only do brief cessations
partially reinvigorate them; but even while they are in
action, the resulting exhaustion is ever being neutralized.'he two processes of waste and repair go on together,




19            TIHE PHILOSOPHY 07 STYLE.
HTence with faculties habitually exercised-as the senses
of all persons, or the muscles of any one who is strongit happens that, during moderate activity, the repair is so
nearly equal to the waste, that the diminution of power is
scarcely appreciable; and it is only when the activity has
been long continued, or has been very violent, that the
repair becomes so far in arrear of the waste as to produce
a perceptible prostration. In all cases, however, when,
by the action of a faculty, waste has been incurred, some
lapse of time must take place before full efficiency can be
reacquired; and this time must be long in proportion as
the waste has been great.
Keeping in mind these general truths, we shall be in a
condition to understand certain causes of effect in composition now to be considered. Every perception received,
and every conception realized, entailing some amount of
waste-or, as Liebig would say, some change of matter in
the brain; and the efficiency of the faculties subject to
this waste being thereby temporarily, though often but
momentarily, diminished; the resulting partial inability
must affect the acts of perception and conception that immediately succeed. And hence we may expect that the
vividness with which images are realized will, in many
cases, depend on the order of their presentation: even
when one order is as convenient to the understanding as
the other.
There are sundry facts which alike illustrate this, and
are explained by it. Climax is one of them. The marked
effect obtained by placing last the most striking of any
series of images, and the weakness-often the ludicrous
weakness-produced by reversing this arrangement, depends on the general law indicated. As immediately after
looking at the sun we cannot perceive the light of a fire,
while by looking at the fire first and the sun afterwards
we can perceive both; so, after receiving a brilliant, or




EXPLANATION OF CLIMAX.                43
weighty, or terrible thought, we cannot appreciate a less
brilliant, less weighty, or less terrible one, while, by re\versing the order, we can appreciate each. In Antithesis,
again, we may recognize the same general truth. The
opposition of two thoughts that are the reverse of each
other in some prominent trait, insures an impressive effect;
and does this by giving a momentary relaxation to the
faculties addressed. If, after a series of images of an ordinary character, appealing in a moderate degree to the
sentiment of reverence, or approbation, or beauty, the
mind has presented to it a very insignificant, a very unworthy, or a very ugly image; the faculty of reverence,
or approbation, or beauty, as the case may be, having for
the time nothing to do, tends to resume its full power; and
will immediately afterwards appreciate a vast, admirable,
or beautiful image better than it would otherwise do.
Conversely, where the idea of absurdity due to extreme
insignificance is to be produced, it may be greatly intensified by placing it after something highly impressive: especially if the form of phrase implies that something still
more impressive is coming. A good illustration of the
effect gained by thus presenting a petty idea to a consciousness that has not yet recovered from the shock of
an exciting one, occurs in a sketch by Balzac. I-is hero
writes to a mistress who has cooled towards him, the following letter:
"Madame,-Votre conduite m'etonne autant qu'elle
m'afflige. Non contente de me dechirer le coeur par vos
dedains, vous avez l'indelicatesse de me retenir une brosse
A dents, que mes moyens ne me permettent pas de rempla
cer, mes proprietes etant grevees d'hypotheques.
"Adieu, trop belle et trop ingrate amie! Puissions.
ouns nous revoir dans un munde meilleur!
" CHARLES-EDOUA.RD."
Thus we see that the phenomena of Climax, Antithesis,




44           THE PHILOSOPHY OF STYLE.
and Anticlimax, alike result from this general principle.
Improbable as these momentary variations in susceptibility may seem, we cannot doubt their occurrence when we
contemplate the analogous variations in the su3ceptibility
of the senses. Referring once more to phenomena of vision, every one knows that a patch of black on a white
ground looks blacker, and a patch of white on a black
ground looks whiter, than elsewhere. As the blackness
and the whiteness must really be the same, the only assignable cause for this, is a difference in their actions upon us,
dependent upon the'different states of our faculties. It is
simply a visual antithesis.
But this extension of the general principle of economy
-this further condition to effective composition, that the
sensitiveness of the faculties must be continuously husbanded-includes much more than has been yet hinted.
It implies not only that certain arrangements and certain
juxtapositions of connected ideas are best; but that some
modes of dividing and presenting a subject will be more
striking than others; and that, too, irrespective of its logical cohesion. It shows why we must progress from the
less interesting to the more interesting; and why not only
the composition as a whole, but each of its successive portions, should tend towards a climax. At the same time,
it forbids long continuity of the same kind of thought, or
repeated production of like effects. -t warns us against
the error committed both by Pope in his poems and by
Bacon in his essays-the error, namely, of constantly employing forcible forms of expression: and it points out
that as the easiest posture by and by becomes fatiguing,
and is with pleasure exchanged for one less easy; so, the
most perfectly-constructed sentences will soon weary, and
relief will be given by using those of an inferior kind.
Further, we may infer from it not only that should we
avoid generally combining our words in one manner, ho w




IT CORRESPONDS TO HABITS OF THOUGHT.        45
ever good, or working out our figures and illustrations in
one way, however telling; but that we should avoid any
thing like uniform adherence, even to the wider conditions
of effect. We should not make every section of our subject progress in interest; we should not always rise to a
climax. As we saw that, in single sentences, it is but
rarely allowable to fulfil all the conditions to strength;
so, in the larger sections of a composition we must not
often conform entirely to the law indicated. We must
subordinate the component effect to the total effect.
In deciding how practically to carry out the principles
of artistic composition, we may derive help by bearing in
mind a fact already pointed out-the fitness of certain
verbal arrangements for certain kinds of thought. That
constant variety in the mode of presenting ideas which
the theory demands, will in a great degree result from a
skilful adaptation of the form to the matter. We saw
how the direct or inverted sentence is spontaneously used
by excited people; and how their language is also charac.
terized by figures of speech and by extreme brevity.
Hence these may with advantage predominate in emotional passages; and may increase as the emotion rises.
On the other hand, for complex ideas, the indirect sen.
tence seems the best vehicle. In conversation, the excitement produced by the near approach to a desired conclusion, will often show itself in a series of short, sharp sen.
tences; while, in impressing a view already enunciated,
we generally make our periods voluminous by piling
thought upon thought. These natural modes of procedure
may serve as guides in writing. Keen observation and
skilful analysis would, in like manner, detect further peculiarities of expression produced by other attitudes of mind;
and by paying due attention to all such traits, a writer
possessed of sufficient versatility might make some approach to a completely-organized work.




46            THE PHILOSOPHY OF STYLE.
This species of composition which the law of effect
points out as the perfect one, is the one which high genius
tends naturally to produce. As we found that the kinds
of sentence which are theoretically best, are those generally employed by superior minds, and by inferior minds
when excitement has raised them; so, we shall find that
the ideal form for a poem, essay, or fiction, is that which
the ideal writer would evolve spontaneously.  One in
whom the powers of expression fully responded to the
state of feeling, would unconsciously use that variety in
the mode of presenting his thoughts, which Art demands.
This constant employment of one species of phraseology,
which all have now to strive against, implies an undeveloped faculty of language. To have a specific style is to
be poor in speech. If we remember that in the far past,
men had only nouns and verbs to convey their ideas with,
and that from then to now the growth has been towards
a greater number of implements of thought, and consequently towards a greater complexity and variety in their
combinations; we may infer that we are now, in our use
of sentences, much what the primitive man was in his use
of words; and that a continuance of the process that has
hitherto gone on must produce increasing heterogeneity
in our modes of expression. As now, in a fine nature, the
play of the features, the tones of the voice and its cadences, vary in harmony with every thought uttered; so,
in one possessed of a fully-developed power of speech, the
mould in which each combination of words is cast will
similarly vary with, and be appropriate to the sentiment.
That a perfectly-endowed man must unconsciously
write in all styles, we may infer from considering how
styles originate. Why is Johnson pompous, Goldsmith
simple? Why is one author abrupt, another rhythmical,
another concise?  Evidently in each case the habitual
mode of utterance must depend upon the habitual balance




STYLE VARIES WITH STATES OF FEELING.        47
of the nature.  The predominant feelings have by use
trained the intellect to represent them. But while long,
though unconscious, discipline has made it do this efficiently, it remains, from lack of practice, incapable of
doing the same for the less active feelings; and when
these are excited, the usual verbal forms undergo but
slight modifications. Let the powers of speech be fully
developed, however-let the ability of the intellect to
utter the emotions be complete; and this fixity of style
will disappear. The perfect writer will express himself
as Junius, when in the Junius frame of mind; when he
feels as Lamb felt, will use a like familiar speech; and will
fall into the ruggedness of Carlyle when in a Carlylean
mood. Now he will be rhythmical and now irregular;
here his language will be plain and there ornate; sometimes his sentences will be balanced and at other times
unsymmetrical; for a while there will be considerable
sameness, and then again great variety.  His mode of
expression naturally responding to his state of feeling,
there will flow from his pen a composition changing to
the same degree that the aspects of his subject change.
He will thus without effort conform to what we have seen
to be the laws of effect. And while his work presents to
the reader that variety needful to prevent continuous
exertion of the same faculties, it will also answer to the
description of all highly-organized products, both of man
and of nature: it will be, not a series of like parts simply
placed in juxtaposition, but one whole made up of unlike
parts that are mutually dependent.
3




0 VER-LEGISLATION.^
I.I )'ROM   time to time there returns upon the cautious
Jt thinker, the conclusion that, considered simply as a
question of probabilities, it is decidedly unlikely that his
views upon any debatable topic are correct.  "Here," he
reflects, "are thousands around me holding on this or that
point opinions differingc from  mine-wholly in most cases;
partially in the rest.  Each is as confident as I am of the
truth of his convictions.  Many of them  are possessed of
great intelligence; and, rank myself high as I may, I must
admit that some are my equals-perhaps my superiors.
Yet, while every one of us is sure he is right, unquestionably most of us are wrong.  Why should not I be among
the mistaken?  True, I cannot realize the likelihood that
I am  so.  But this proves nothing; for though the majority of us are necessarily in error, we all labour under the
* Some of the illustrations used in this essay refer to laws and arrangerments since changed; while many recent occurences might now be cited
in further aid of its argument. As, however, the reasoning is not aftected
by these changes; and as to keep it corrected to the facts of the (lay would
involve perpetual alterations; it seems best to leave it substantially in its
original state: or rather in the state in which it was republished in Mr.
Chapman's " Library for the People."




DISTRUST OF OUR OPINIONS.               49
inability to think we are in error. Is it not then foolish
thus to trust myself?  When I look back into the past, I
find nations, sects, philosophers, cherishing beliefs in science, morals, politics, and religion, which we decisively
reject.  Yet they held them  with a faith quite as strong
as ours: nay-stronger, if their intolerance of dissent is
any criterion. Of what little worth, therefore, seems this
strength of my conviction that I am  right! A like warrant has been felt by men all the world through; and, in
nine cases out of ten, has proved a delusive warrant. Is
it not then absurd in me to put so much faith in my judgments?"
Barren of practical results as this reflection at first
sight appears, it may, and indeed should, influence some
of our most important proceedings. Though in daily life
we are constantly obliged to act out our inferences, trustless as they may be-though in the house, in the office, in
the street, there hourly arise occasions on which we may
not hesitate; seeing that if to act is dangerous, never to
act at all is fatal-and though, consequently, on our private conduct, this abstract doubt as to the worth of our
judgments, must remain inoperative; yet, in our public
conduct, we may properly allow  it to weigh with us.
Here decision is no longer imperative; while the difficulty
of deciding aright is incalculably greater.  Clearly as we
may think we see how  a given measure will work, we
may infer, drawing the above induction from human experience, that the chances are many against the truth
of our anticipations.  Whether in most cases it is not1
wiser to do nothing, becomes now a rational question.
Continuing his self-criticism, the cautious thinker may
reason:-" If in these personal transactions, where all the
conditions of the case were known to me, I have so often
miscalculated, how  much oftener shall I miscalculate in
political ones, where the conditions are too numerous, too




50                OVER-LEGISLATION,
wide-spread, too complex, too obscure to be understood
Here, doubtless, is a social evil and there a desideratum;
and were I sure of doing no mischief I would forthwith
try to cure the one and achieve the other. But when I
remember how many of my private schemes have miscarried-how speculations have failed, agents proved dishonest, marriage been a disappointment-how I did but
puaperize the relative I sought to help-how my carefullygoverned son has turned out worse than most childrenhow the thing I desperately strove against as a misfortune
did me immense good-how while the objects I ardently
pursued brought me little happiness when gained, most of
my pleasures have come from unexpected sources; when
I recall these and hosts of like facts, I am struck with the
utter incompetence of my intellect to prescribe for society.
And as the evil is one under which society has not only
lived but grown, while the desideratum is one it may
spontaneously secure, as it has most others, in some unforeseen way, I question the propriety of meddling."
There is a great want of this practical humility in our
political conduct.  Though we have less self-confidence
than our ancestors, who did not hesitate to organize in
law their judgments on all subjects whatever, we have
yet far too much. Though we have ceased to assume the
infallibility of our theological beliefs, and so ceased to
enact them, we have not ceased to enact hosts of other
beliefs of an equally doubtful kind. Though we no longer
presume to coerce men for their spiritual good, we still
think ourselves called upon to coerce them  for their
material gooc-not seeing that the one is as useless and
as unwarrantable as the other.  Innumerable failures
seem, so far, powerless to teach this.  Take up a daily
paper and you will probably find a leader exposing the
corruption, negligence, or mismanagement of some State




BLIND FAITH IN ENACTMENTS.             51
department. Cast your eye down the next column, and
it is not unlikely that you will read proposals for an extension of State-supervision. Yesterday came a charge
gross carelessness against the Colonial office: to-day
Admiralty bunglings are burlesqued: to-morrow brings
the question-" Should there not be more coal-mine inspectors?"  Now there is a complaint that the Board
of Health is useless; and now an outcry for more railway regulation.  While your ears are still ringing
with denunciations of Chancery abuses, or your cheeks
still glowing  with indignation at some well-exposed
iniquity of the Ecclesiastical Courts, you suddenly come
upon suggestions for organizing " a priesthood of science."
Here is a vehement condemnation of the police fbr stupidly
allowing sight-seers to crush each other to death: you
look for the corollary that official regulation is not to be
trusted: when instead, apropos of a shipwreck, you read
an urgent demand for government-inspectors to see that
ships always have their boats ready for launching. Thus,
while every day chronicles a failure, there every day
reappears the belief that it needs but an Act of Parliament and a staff of officers, to effect any end desired. Nowhere is the perennial faith of mankind better seen.
Ever since society existed  Disappointment has been
preaching-" Put not your trust in legislation;" and yet
the trust in legislation seems scarcely diminished.
Did the State fulfil efficiently its unquestionable duties,
there would be some excuse for this eagerness to assign it
further ones. Were there no complaints of its faulty
administration of justice; of its endless delays and untold
expenses; of its bringing ruin in place of restitution; of
its playing the tyrant where it should have been the proc
tector-did we never hear of its complicated stupidities;
its 20,000 statutes, which it assumes all Englishmen to
know, and which not one Englishmen does know; it,




52                  OVER-LEGISLATION.
multiplied forms, which, in the effort to meet every con
tingency, open far more  loopholes than  they provide
against-had it not shown its folly in the system of making every petty alteration by a new act, variously affecting innumerable preceding acts; or in its score of successive sets of Chancery rules, which so modify, and limit,
and extend, and abolish, and alter each other, that not
even Chancery lawyers know  what the rules are-were
we never astounded by such a fact as that, under the system of land registration in Ireland, 6,000. have been spent
in a " negative search " to establish the title of an estate
-did we find in its doings no such terrible incongruity
as the iamprisonment of a hungry vagrant for stealing a
turnip, while for the gigantic embezzlements of a railway
director it inflicts no punishment;-had we, in short,
proved its efficiency as judge and defender, instead of having found it treacherous, cruel, and anxiously to be shunned, there would be some encouragement to hope other
benefits at its hands.
Or if, while failing in its judicial functions, the State
had proved itself a capable agent in some other department-the military for examlple-there would have been
some show  of reason for extending its sphere of action.
Suppose that it had rationally equipped its troops, instead
of giving them  cumbrous and ineffective muskets, barbarous grenadier caps, absurdly heavy knapsacks and cartouche-boxes, and clothing coloured so as admirably to
help the enemy's marksmen-suppose that it organized
well and economically, instead of salarying an  ilmmense
superfluity of officers, creating sinecure colonelcies of
4,0001. a year, neglecting the meritorious, and promoting
incapables-suppose that its soldiers were always well
housed instead of being thrust into barracks that invalid
hundreds, as at Aden, or that fall on their occupants, as
at Loodianah, where ninety-five were thus killed-suppose




MILITARY AB)D NAVAL MISMANAGEMENT.          53
that, in actual war, it had shown due administrative ability, instead of occasionally leaving its regiments to march
barefoot, to dress in patches, to capture their own engineering tools, and to fight on empty stomachs, as during the Peninsular campaign;-suppose all this, and the
wish for more State-control might still have had some
warrant.
Even though it had bungled in every thing else, yet
had it in one case done well-had its naval management
alone been efficient-the sanguine would have had a colourable excuse for expecting success in a new field. Grant
that the reports about bad ships, ships that will not sail,
ships that have to be lengthened, ships with unfit engines,
ships that will not carry their guns, ships without stow. —
age, and ships that have to be broken up, are all untrueassume those to be mere slanderers who say that the
lffiegcera took double the time taken by a commercial
steamer to reach the Cape; that during the same voyage
the Hydcra was three times on fire, and needed the pumps
kept going day and night; that the Charlotte troop-ship
set out with 75 days' provisions on board, and was three
months in reaching her destination; that the liarpy, at
an imminent risk of life, got home in 110 days from Riodisregard as calumnies the statements about septuagenarian admirals, dilettante ship building, and " cooked"
dockyard accounts-set down the affair of the Goldner
preserved meats as a myth, and consider Professor Barlow
mistaken when he reported of the Admiralty compasses
in store, that " at least one-half were mere lumber;"-let
all these, we say, be held groundless charges, and there
would remain for the advocates of much government some
basis for their political air-castles, spite of military and
judicial mismanagement.
As it is, however, they seem to have read backwards
lhe parable of the talents. Not to the agent of proved




54                 OVER-LEGISLATION.
efficiency do they consign further duties, but to the negli.
gent and blundering agent. Private enterprise has done
much, and done it well. Private enterprise has cleared,
drained, and fertilized the country, and built the towls —
has excavated mines, laid out roads, dug canals, and embanked railways-has invented, and brought to perfeoc
tion, ploughs, looms, steam-engines, printing-presses, and
machines innumerable-has built our ships, our vast
manufactories, our docks-has established banks, insurance societies, and the newspaper press-has covered the
sea with lines of steam-vessels, and the land with electric
telegraphs. Private enterprise has brought agriculture,
manufactures, and commerce to their present height, and
is now developing them with increasing rapidity. Therefore, do not trust private enterprise. On the other hand,
the State so fulfils its protective function as to ruin many,
delude others, and frighten away those who most need
succour; its national defences are so extravagantly and
yet inefficiently administered, as to call forth almost daily
complaint, expostulation, or ridicule; and as the nation's
steward, it obtains from some of our vast public estates a
minus revenue.  Therefore, trust the State. Slight the
good and faithful servant, and promote the unprofitable
one from one talent to ten.
Seriously, the case, while it may not, in some respects,
warrant this parallel, is, in one respect, even stronger.
For the new work is not of the same order as the old, but
of a more difficult order. Badly as government discharges
its true duties, any other duties committed to it are likely tc
be still worse discharged.  To guard its subjects against
aggression, either individual or national, is a straightfor
ward and tolerably simple matter; to regulate, directly oi
indirectly, the personal actions of those subjects is an infi
uitely complicated matter. It is one thing to secure to each
man the unhindered power to pursue his own good; it is a




CLASSIFICATION OF STATE FUN(TIONS.         55
l idely different thing to pursue the good for him. To do
the first efficiently, the State has merely to look on while
its citizens act; to forbid unfairness; to adjudicate when
called on; and to enforce restitution for injuries. To do
the last efficiently, it must become an ubiquitous worker
-must know each man's needs better than he knows them
himself-must, in short, possess superhuman power and
intelligence. Even, therefore, had the State done well in
its proper sphere, no sufficient warrant would have existed for extending that sphere; but seeing how ill it has
discharged those simple offices which we cannot help
consigning to it, small indeed is the probability of its
discharging well offices of a more complicated nature.
Change the point of view however we may, and this
conclusion still presents itself. If we define the primary
State-duty to be, protecting  each  individual against
others; then, all other State action comes under the
definition of protecting each individual against himselfagainst his own stupidity, his own idleness, his own improvidence, rashness, or other defect-his own incapacity
for doing something or other which should be done.
There is no questioning this classification. For manifestly
all the obstacles that lie between a man's desires and the
satisfaction of them, are either obstacles arising from
other men's counter desires, or obstacles arising from
inability in himself. Such of these counter desires as are;ust, have as much claim to satisfaction as his; and may
not, therefore, be thwarted. Such of them as are unjust,
it is the State's duty to hold in check. The only other
possible sphere for it, therefore, is saving the individual
trom the results of his own weakness, apathy, or foolishness-warding off the consequences of his nature; or, as
we say-protecting him against himself. Making no comment, at present, on the policy of this, and confining ourselves solely to the practicability of it, let us inquire how




56                 OVER-LEGISLATION.
the proposal looks when reduced to its simplest form.
Iere are men endowed with instincts, and sentiments,
and perceptions, all conspiring to self-preservation.  Each
of these faculties has some relationship, direct or indirect,
to personal well-being.  The due action of each brings its
quantum of pleasure; the inaction, its more or less of pain.
Those provided with these faculties in due proportions,
prosper and multiply; those ill-provided, unceasingly tend
to die out.  And the general success of this scheme of
human organization is seen in the fact, that under it the
world  has been  peopled, and  by it the  complicated
appliances and arrangements of civilized life have Leen
developed.
It is complained, however, that there are certain di:ections in which this apparatus of motive works but imperfeetly. While it is admitted that men are duly prompted
by it to bodily sustenance, to the obtainment of clothing
and shelter, to marriage and the care of offspring, and to
the establishment of the more important industrial and
commercial agencies; it is yet argued that there are many
desiderata, as pure air, more knowledge, good water, safe
travelling, and so forth, which it does not duly achieve.
And these short-comings being assumed permanent, and not
temporary, it is urged that some supplementary means must
be employed. It is therefore proposed that out of the mass
of men thus imperfectly endowed, a certain number, constituting the legislature, shall be instructed to secure these
various objects.  The legislators thus instructed (all characterized, on the average, by the same defects in this
apparatus of motives as men in general), being unable
personally to fulfil their tasks, must fulfil them by deputy
— must appoint commissions, boards, councils, and staffs
of officers; and must construct their agencies of this same
defective humanity that acts so ill. Why now should this
system of complex deputation succeed where the system




GOVERNMENTS WORKING BY DEPUTY.               57
or simple deputation does not?  The industrial, commnercial, and philanthropic agencies, which citizens form spontaneously, are directly deputed agencies; these governmental agencies made by electing legislators who appoint
officers, are indirectly deputed ones.  And it is hoped
that, by this process of double deputation, things may be
achieved which the process of single deputation will not
achieve.  What, now, is the rationale of this hope?  Is it
that legislators, and their employes, are made to feel more
intensely than the rest these evils they are to remedy,
these wants they are to satisfy?  Hardly; for by position
they are mostly relieved from  such evils and wants. Is
it, then, that they are to have the primary motive replaced
by a secondary motive-the fear of public displeasure, and
ultimate removal from  office?   Why, scarcely; for the
minor benefits which citizens will not organize to secure
directly, they will not organize to secure indirectly, by
turning out inefficient servants: especially if they cannot
readily get efficient ones.  Is it, then, that these Stateagents are to do, from a sense of duty, what they would
not do from  any other motive?   Evidently this is the
only possibility remaining.  The proposition on which the
advocates of much government have to fall back, is, that
things which the people will not unite to effect for personal benefit, a law-appointed portion of them  will unite to
effect for the benefit of the rest. Public men and famctionaries love their neighbours better than themselves!
The philanthropy of statesmen is stronger than the selfishness of citizens!
No wonder, then, that every day adds to the list of
legislative miscarriages.  If colliery explosions increase,
notwithstanding the appointment of coal-mine inspectors,
why it is but a natural moral to these false hypotheses.
If Sunderland shipowners complain that, as far as tried,
the Mercantile Marine Act has proved a total failure;"




58                   OVER-LEGISLATION.
and if, meanwhile, the other class affected by it-the sailors-show their disapprobation by extensive strikes; why
it does but exemplify the folly of trusting a theorizing
benevolence rather than an experienced self-interest. On
all sides we may expect such facts; and on all sides we
find them.  Government, turning engineer, appoints its
lieutenant, the Sewers' Commission, to drain London.
Presently Lambeth sends deputations to say that it pays
heavy rates, and gets no benefit. Tired of waiting, Bethnal-green calls meetings to consider "the most effectual
means of extending the drainage of the district."  From
Wandsworth come complainants, who threaten to pay no
more until something is done.  Camberwell proposes to
raise a subscription and do the work itself.  Meanwhile,
no  progress is made  towards the purification  of the
Thames; the weekly returns show  an increasing rate of
mortality; in Parliament, the friends of the Commission
have nothing save good intentions to urge in mitigation
of censure; and, at length, despairing ministers gladly
seize an excuse for quietly shelving the Commission and
its plans altogether.* As architectural surveyor, the State
has scarcely succeeded better than as engineer; witness
the Metropolitan Buildings' Act. New houses still tumble
down from time to time.  A  few months since two fell at
Bayswater, and one more recently near the Pentonville
Prison: all notwithstanding prescribed thicknesses, and
noop-iron band, and inspectors. It never struck those
* So complete is the failure of this and other sanitary bodies, that, at
the present moment (March, 1854), a number of philanthropic gentlemen
are voluntarily organizing a "Health Fund for London," with the view of
meeting the threatened invasion of the Cholera; and the plea for this
vurely private erterprise, is, that the Local Boards of Health and Boards
of Guardians are inoperative, from "ignorance, 1st, of the extent of the
danger; 2d, of the means which experience has discovered for meeting it
wnd 3d, of the comparantve security which those means may produce,"




FAILURE OF GOVERNMENTAL PROJECTS.              59
who provided these delusive sureties, that it was possible
to build walls without bonding the two surfaces together,
so that the inner layer might be removed after the surveyor's approval. Nor did they foresee, that, in dictating a
larger quantity of bricks than experience proved abso.
lutely needful, they were simply insuring a slew deterioration of quality to an equivalent extent.* The government
guarantee for safe passenger ships answers no better than
its guarantee for safe houses.  Though the burning of
the Amazon arose either from  bad construction or bad
stowage, she had received the Admiralty certificate before
sailing.  Notwithstanding official approval, the Adelaide
was found, on her first voyage, to steer ill, to have useless
pumps, ports that let floods of water into the cabins, and
coals so near the furnaces that they twice caught fire.
The ET  S. Lindsay, which turned out unfit for sailing,
had yet been passed by the government agent; and, but
for the owner, might have gone to sea at a great risk of
life.  The 3Melbourne-originally a State-built ship-which
took twenty-four days to reach Lisbon, and then needed
to be docked to undergo a thorough repair, had been duly
inspected.  And lastly, the notorious Australian, before
her third futile attempt to proceed on her voyage, had,
her owners tell us, received " the full approbation of the
government inspector."  Neither does the like supervision
give security to land-travelling. The iron bridge at Chester, which, breaking, precipitated a train into the Dee,
nad passed under the official eye. Inspection did not prevent a column on the South-eastern from  being so placed
as to kill a man who put his head out of the carriage win* The Builder remarks, that "the removal of the brick-duties has not
yet produced that improvement in the make of bricks which le ought to
fnd,..... but as bad bricks can be obtained for less than good bricks,
so long as houses built of the former will sell as readily as if the better had
been used, no improvement is to be expected"




60                OVER-LEGISLATION.
dow. The l comotive that burst at Brighton lately, did
so notwithstanding a State approval given but ten days
previously. And-to look at the facts in the gross-this
system of supervision has not prevented the gradual increase of railway accidents; which, be it remembered, has
arisen since tie system was commenced.
" Well, let the State fail. It can but do its best. If it
succeed, so much the better: if it do not, where is the
harm? Surely it is wiser to act, and take the chance of
success, than to do nothing." To this plea the rejoinder
is, that unfortunately the results of legislative intervention are not only negatively bad, but often positively so.
Acts of Parliament do not simply fail; they frequently
make worse.  The familiar truth that persecution aids
rather than hinders proscribed doctrines-a truth lately
afresh illustrated by the forbidden work of Gervinus-is a
part of the general truth that legislation often does indirectly, the reverse of that which it directly aims to do.
Thus has it been with the Metropolitan Buildings' Act.
As was lately agreed unanimously by the delegates fiom
all the parishes in London, and as was stated by them to
Sir William MIolesworth, this act " has encouraged bad
building, and has been the means of covering the suburbs
of the metropolis with thousands of wretched hovels,
which are a disgrace to a civilized country."
Thus also has it been in provincial towns. rThe Nottingham Inclosure Act of 1845, by prescribing the structure of the houses to be built, and the extent of yard or
garden to be allotted to each, has rendered it impossible
to build working-class dwellings at such moderate rents
as to compete with existing ones; it is estimated that, as
a consequence of this, 10,000 of the population are debarred
from the new homes they would otherwise have, and are
forced to live crowded together in miserable places, unfit
for human habitatior; and so, in its anxiety to insure




STATE ACTION WORSE THAN NO ACTION.                61
wealthy accommodation for artisans, the law has entailed
on them  still worse accommodation than before.  Thus,
too, has it been with the Passengers' Act.  The terrible
fevers which arose in the Australian emigrant ships a few
months since, causing in the Bournezf 83 deaths, in the
TVacnota 39 deaths, in the Marco Polo 53 deaths, and in
the Ticoncleroga 104 deaths, arose in vessels sent out by
the government; and arose in consequence of the close
packing which the Passengers' Act authorizes.*
Thus moreover has it been with the safeguards provided by the Mercantile M3arine Act.  The examinations
devised for insuring the efficiency of captains, have had
the effect of certifying the superficially-clever and unpractisecl men, and, as we are told by a shipowner, rejecting
many of the long-tried and most trustworthy: the general
result being that the ratio of s.ipwrecks s  has increased.
Thus also has it happened with Boards of Health, which
have, in sundry cases, exacerbated the evils to be removed;
as, for instance, at Croydon, where, according to the
official report, the measures of the sanitary authorities produced an epidemic, which attacked 1,600 people, and killed
70.  Thus again has it been with the Joint Stock Companies Registration Act.  As was shown by Mr. James
WVilson, in his late motion for a select committee on lifeassurance associations, this measure, passed in  1844 to
guard the public against bubble schemes, actually facilitated the rascalities of 1845 and subsequent years.  The
legislative sanction, devised as a guarantee of genuineness,
and supposed by the people to be such, clever adventurers
have without difficu lty obtained for the most worthless
projects; having obtained it, an amount of public confidence has followed which they could never otherwise
* Against which close packing, by the way, a private mercantile bod, —
the Liverpool Shipowners' Association-unavailingly protested when the
cet was before Parliament.




62                OVER-LEGISLATION.
have gained; and in this way literally hundreds of sham
enterprises, that would not else have seen the light, have
been fostered into being; and thousands of families have
been ruined who would never have been so but for legislative efforts to make them more secure.
Moreover, when these topical remedies applied by
statesmen do not exacerbate the evils they were meant
to cure, they constantly-we believe invariably-induce
collateral evils; and these often graver than the original
ones. It is the vice of this empirical school of politicians
that they never look beyond proximate causes and immediate effects. In common with the uneducated masses
they habitually regard each phenomenon as involving but
one antecedent and one consequent. They do not bear in
mind that each phenomenon is a link in an infinite seriesis the result of myriads of preceding phenomena, and will
have a share in producing myriads of succeeding ones.
Hence they overlook the fact, that, in disturbing any
natural chain of sequences, they are not only modifying
the result next in succession, but all the future results
into which this will enter as a part cause. The serial
genesis of phenomena, and the interaction of each series
upon every other series, produces a complexity utterly beyond human grasp. Even in the simplest cases this is so.
A servant who mends the fire sees but few effects from
the burning of a lump of coal. The man of science, however, knows that there are very many effects. He knows
that the combustion establishes numerous atmospheric
currents, and through them moves thousands of cubic feet
of air inside the house and out. He knows that the heat
diffused causes expansions and subsequent contractions of
all bodies within its range. He knows that the persons
warmed are affected in their rate of respiration and their
waste of tissue; and that these physiological changes
must have various secondary results.  I-e knows that,




COMPLEX AND INCALCULABLE EFFECTS.         63'ould he trace to their ramified consequences all the forces
disengaged, mechanical, chemical, thermal, electric-could
he enumerate all the subsequent effects of the evaporation
caused, the gases generated, the light evolved, the heat
adiated; a volume would scarcely suffice to enter them.
If now from a simple inorganic change such complex
results arise, how infinitely multiplied, how utterly incalculable must be the ultimate consequences of any force
brought to bear upon society. Wonderfully constructed
as it is-mutually dependent as are its members for the
satisfaction of their wants-affected as each unit of it is
by his fellows, not only as to his safety and prosperity,
but in his health, his temper, his culture; the social organism cannot be dealt with in any oile part, without all
other parts being influenced in ways that cannot be fore.
seen. You put a duty on paper, and by-and-by find that,
through the medium of the jacquard-cards employed, you
have inadvertently taxed figured silk, sometimes to the
extent of several shillings per piece. On removing the
impost from bricks, you discover that its existence had
increased the dangers of mining, by preventing shafts
from being lined and workings from being tunnelled. By
the excise on soap, you have, it turns out, greatly encouraged the use of caustic washing-powders; and so have
unintentionally entailed an immense destruction of clothes.
In every case you perceive, on careful inquiry, that besides
acting upon that which you sought to act upon, you have
acted upon many other things, and each of these again on
many others; and so have propagated a multitude of
changes more or less appreciable in all directions.
We need feel no surprise, then, that in their efforts
to cure specific evils, legislators have continually caused
collateral evils they never looked for.  No Carlyle's
wisest man, nor any body of such, could avoid causing
them. Though their production is explicable enough after




i64                 OVER-LEGISLATION.
it has occurred, it is never anticipated.  When, under the
New Poor-law, provision was made foi the accommodation of vagrants in the Union-houses, it was hardly expected that a body of tramps would be thereby called into
existence, who would spend their time in walking from
Union to Union throughout the kingdom.  It was littl:
thought by those who in past generations assigned parishpay for the maintenance of illeoitimate children, that, as a
result, a family of such would by-and-by be considered a
small fortune, and the mother of them  a desirable wife:
nor did the same statesmen see, that, by the law of settlement, they were organizing a disastrous inequality of
wages in different districts, and entailing a system  of
clearing away cottages, which would result in the crowding of bedrooms, and in a consequent moral and physical
deterioration.  The English tonnage law  was enacted
simply with a view to regulate the mode of measurement:
its framers overlooked the fact that they were practically
providing "for the effectual and compulsory construction
of bad ships;" and that "to cheat the law, that is, to
build a tolerable ship in spite of it, was the highest achievement left to an English builder."*  Greater commercial
security was alone aimed at by the partnership law.  We
now find, however, that the unlimited liability it insists
upon is a serious hindrance to progress; it practically forbids the association of small capitalists; it is found a great
obstacle to the building of improved dwellings for the people; it prevents a better relationship between artisans and
employers; and by withholding from  the working-classes
good investments for their savings, it checks the growth
of provident habits and encourages drunkenness.  Thus
on all sides are well-mieant nicausures producing unforeseen
* Lecture before the Royal Institution, by J. ScotV Russell, Esq., " 0s
Wave-line Ships and Yachts," Feb. 6, 1852.




ORIGIN OF SOCIAL AGENCIES.              f65
mischiefs —a licensing law that promotes the adulteration
of beer; a ticket-of-leave system  that encourages men te
commit crime; a police regulation that forces street-hucksters into the workhouse.  And then, in addition to the
obvious and proximate evils, come the remote and less
distinguishable  ones, which, could  we estimate their
accumulated result, we should probably find even more
serious.
But the thing to be discussed is, not so much whether,
by any amount of intelligence, it is possible for a government to work out the various ends consigned to it, as
whether its filfilment of them is probable. It is less a question of can than a question of will.  Granting the absolute competence of the State, let us consider vwhat hope
there is of getting froml it satisfactory performance.  Let
us look at the moving force by which the legislative
machine is worked, and then inquire whether this force
is thus employed as economically as it would  otherwise be.
Manifestly, as desire of some kind is the invariable
stimulus to action in the individual, every social agency,
of what nature soever, must have some aggregate of desires for its motive power. Men in their collective capacity can exhibit no result but what has its origin in some
appetite, feeling, or taste common among them.  Did not
they like meat, there could be no cattle-graziers, no Smithfield, no distributing organization of butchers.  Operas,
Philharmonic Societies, music-publishers, and street organboys, have all been called into being by our love of melodious sounds.  Look through the trades' directory; take up
a guide to the London sights; read the index of Bradshaw's time-tables, the reports of the learned societies, or
the advertisement of new books; and you see in the publication itself, and in the things it describes, so many pro




656               OVER-LEGISLATION.
jects of human activity, stimulated by human desire. U!rn
der this stimulus grow up agencies alike the most gigantic
and the most insignificant, the most complicated and the
most simple-agencies for national defence and for the
sweeping of crossings; for the daily distribution of letters,
and for the collection of bits of coal out of the Thames
mud-agencies that subserve all ends, from the preaching
of Christianity to the protection of ill-treated animals;
from the production of bread for a nation to the supply of
groundsel for caged singing-birds.  The accumulated
desires of individuals being, then, the moving power by
which every social agency is worked, the question to be
considered is-Which is the most economical kind of
agency? The agency having no power in itself, but being
merely an instrument, our inquiry must be for the most
efficient instrument-the instrument that costs least, and
wastes the smallest amount of the moving power —the
instrument least liable to get out of crder, and most readily
put right again when it goes wrong. Of the two kinds
of social mechanism exemplified above, the spontaneous
and the governmental, which is the best?
From the form of this question will be readily foreseen
the intended answer-that is the best mechanism which
contains the fewest parts. The common saying, "What
you wish well done you must do yourself," embodies a
truth equally applicable to political as to private life.
The experience of the agriculturist who finds that farming
by bailiff entails loss, while tenant-farming pays, is an experience still better illustrated in national history than in
a landlord's account books. The admitted fact, that jointstock companies are beaten wherever individuals compete
with them, is a still more certain fact when the joint-stock
company comprehends the whole nation.  This transfer.
ence of power from constituencies to members of parlia.
inent, from these to the executive, from the executive to a




SLUGGISHNESS OF OFFICIALISM.          67
board, from the board to its inspectors, and from inspectors through their subs down to the actual workers-this
operating through a series a levers, each of which absorbs
in friction and inertia part of the moving force; is as bad,
in virtue of its complexity, as the direct employment by
society of individuals, private companies, and spontaneously-formed institutions, is good, in virtue of its simplicity.
Fully to realize the contrast, we must compare in detail
the working of the two systems.
Officialism  is habitually slow.  When non-governmental agencies are dilatory, the public has its remedy: it
ceases to employ them, and soon finds quicker ones. Under this discipline all private bodies are taught promptness. But for delays in State-departments there is no such
easy cure.  Life-long Chancery suits must be patiently
borne; Museum-catalogues must be hopelessly waited for.
While, by the people themselves, a Crystal Palace is designed, erected, and filled, in the course of a few months,
the legislature takes twenty years to build itself a new
house. While by private persons, the debates are daily
printed and dispersed over the kingdom  within a few
hours of their utterance, the Board of Trade tables are
regularly published a month, and sometimes more, after
date. And so throughout. Here is a Board of Health
which, since 1849, has been about to close the metropolitan graveyards, but has not done it yet; and which has
so long dawdled over projects for cemeteries, that the
London Necropolis Company has taken the matter out of
its hands. Here is a patentee who has had fourteen years'
correspondence with the Horse Guards, before getting a
definite answer respecting the use of his improved boot for
the Army. Here is a Plymouth port-admiral who delays
sending out to look for the missing boats of the Amazon
until ten days after the wreck.
Again, officialism is stupid. Under the natural course




68                  OVER-LEGISLATION.
of things each citizen tends towards his fittest function.
Those who are competent to the kind of work they undertake, succeed, and, in the average of cases, are advanced
in proportion to their efficiency; while the incompetent,
society soon finds out, ceases to employ, forces to try something easier, and eventually turns to use. But it is quite
otherwise in State-organizations.   Here, as every one
knows, birth, age, back-stairs intrigue, and sycophancy,
determine the selections, rather than merit.  The " fool of
the family" readily finds a place in the Church, if" the
family" have good connections. A youth, too ill-educated
for any active profession, does very well for an officer in
the Army.  Gray hair, or a title, is a far better guarantee
of naval promotion than genius is. Niay, indeed, the man
of capacity often finds that, in government offices, superiority is a hindrance —that his chiefs hate to be pestered
with his proposed improvements, and are offended by his
implied criticism.  Not only, therefore, is legislative machinery complex, but it is made of inferior materials.
Hence the blunders we daily read of-the supplying to
the dockyards from  the royal forests of timber unfit for
use; the administration of relief during the Irish famine
in such a manner as to draw labourers from the field, and
diminish the subsequent harvest by one-fourth; the filingo
of patents at three different offices and keeping an index at none; the building of iron, war-vessels that should
be of wood, and the insisting on wood, for mail-steamers
that should be of iron.  Everywhere does this bungling
show itself, from  the elaborate failure of House of Commons ventilation down to the publication of the London
Gazette, which invaribly comes out wrongly folded.
A  further characteristic of officialism  is its extrava.
gance. In its chief departments, Army, Nlavy, and Church
* See Evidence of Major Larcorm




EXTRAVAGANCE OF OFFICIALISM.            69
it employs far more officers than are needful, and pays
some of the useless ones exorbitantly. The work done by
the Sewers Commission has cost, as Sir B. Hall tells us,
from 300 to 400 per cent. over the contemplated outlay;
while the management charges have reached 35, 40, and
45 per cent. on the expenditure. The trustees of Ramsgate HIarbour —a harbour, by the way, that has taken a
century to complete-are spending 18,0001. a year in doing
what 5,0001. has been proved sufficient for. The Board of
Health is causing new surveys to be made of all the towns
under its control-a proceeding which, as Mr. Stephenson
states, and as every tyro in engineering knows, is, for
drainage purposes, a wholly needless expense.  These
public agencies are subject to no such influence as that
which obliges private enterprise to be economical. Traders and mercantile bodies succeed by serving society
cheaply. Such of them as cannot do this are continually
supplanted by those who can.  They cannot saddle the
nation with the results of their extravagance, and so are
prevented from being extravagant.  On works that are to
return a profit it does not answer to spend 48 per cent. of
the capital in superintendence, as in the engineering
department of the Indian Government; and Indian railway companies, knowing this, manage to keep their superintenderce charges within 8 per cent. A  shopkeeper
leaves out of his accounts no item  analagous to that
6,000,0001. of its revenues, which Parliament allows to be
deducted on the way to the Exchequer. Walk through a
manufactory, and you see that the stern alternatives, care.
fiulness or ruin, dictate the saving of every penny; visit one
of the national dockyards, and the comments you make on!1ny glaring wastefulness are carelessly met by the slang
phrase-" Nunky pays."
The unadaptiveness of officialism is another of its vices.
UTnlike private enterprise which quickly modifies its action




TO                OVER-LEGISLATION.
to meet emergencies-unlike the shopkeeper who promptly
finds the wherewith to satisfy a sudden demand-unlike
the railway company which doubles its trains to carry a
special influx of passengers; the law-made instrumentality
lumbers on under all varieties of circumstances through
its ordained routine at its habitual rate.  By its very
nature it is fitted only for the average requirements, aid
inevitably fails under unusual requirements. You cannot
step into the street without having the contrast thrust
upon you. Is it summer? You see the water-carts going
their prescribed rounds with scarcely any regard to the
needs of the weather-to-day sprinkling afresh the already
moist roads; to-morrow bestowing their showers with no
greater liberality upon roads cloudy with dust.  Is it
winter? You see the scavengers do not vary in number
and activity according to the quantity of mud; and if
there comes a heavy fall of snow, you find the thoroughfares remaining for nearly a week in a scarcely passable
state, without an effort being made even in the heart of
London to meet the exigency. The late snow-storm, in
deed, supplied a neat antithesis between the two orders of
agency in the effects it respectively produced upon omnibuses and cabs. Not being under a law-fixed tariff, the
omnibuses put on extra horses and raised their fares. The
cabs, on the contrary, being limited in their charges by an
Act of Parliament which, with the usual shortsightedness,
never contemplated such a contingency as this, declined
to ply, deserted the stands and the stations, left luckless
travellers to stumble home with their luggage as best they
might, and so became useless at the very time of all others
when they were most wanted! Not only by its unsusceptibility of adjustment does officialism entail serious inconveniences, but it likewise entails great injustices. In
this case of cabs for example, it has resulted since the late
change of law, that old cabs, which were before sleabl)




INJUSTICE OF OFFICIALISM.             71
at Lil. and 121. each, are now unsaleable and have to be
broken ap; and thus legislation has robbed cab-proprietors
of part of their capital. Again, the recently-passed SmokeBill for London, which applies only within certain prescribed limits, has the effect of taxing one manufacturer
while leaving untaxed his competitor working within a
qiarter of a mile; and so, as we are credibly informed,
gives one advantage of 1,5001. a year over another. These
typify the infinity of wrongs, varying in degrees of hardship, which legal regulations necessarily involve. Society,
a living, growing organism, placed within apparatuses of
dead, rigid, mechanical formulas, cannot fail to be hampered and pinched. The only agencies which can efficiently
serve it, are those through which its pulsations hourly
flow, and which change as it changes.
How invariably officialism becomes corrupt every one
knows. Exposed to no such antiseptic as free competition-not dependent for existence, as private unendowed
organizations are, upon the maintenance of a vigorous
vitality; all law-made agencies fall into an inert, over-fed
state, from which to disease is a short step. Salaries flow
in irrespective of the activity with which duty is performed;
continue after duty wholly ceases; become rich prizes for
the idle well born; and prompt to perjury, to bribery, to
simony. East India directors are elected not for any
administrative capacity they may have; but they buy
votes by promised patronage-a patronage alike asked
and given, in utter disregard of the welfare of a hundred
millions of people. Registrars of wills not only get many
thousands a year each for doing work which their miserably paid deputies leave half done; but they, in some cases,
defraud the revenue, and that after repeated reprimands.
Dockyard plromotion is the result not of efficient services,
but of political favouritism.  That they may continue to
hold rich livings, clergymen preach what they do not
4




72                 OVER-LEGISLATION.
believe; bishops make false returns of their revenues;
and at their elections to college-fellowships, well-to-do
priests make oath that they are pau1per, plus et doctus
From the local inspector whose eyes are shut to an abuse
by a contractor's present, up to the prime minister who
finds lucrative berths for his relations, this venality is
daily illustrated; and that in spite of public reprobation
and perpetual attempts to prevent it. As we once heard
said by a State-official of twenty-five years' standing"Wherever there is government there is villainy."  It is
the inevitable result of destroying the direct connection
between the profit obtained and the work performed. No
incompetent person hopes, by offering a douceur in the
Times, to get a permanent place in a mercantile office. But
where, as under government, there is no employer's selfinterest to forbid —where the appointment is made by some
one on whom inefficiency entails no loss; there a douceur
is operative.  In hospitals, in public charities, in literary
funds, in endowed schools, in all social agencies in which
duty done and income gained do not go hand in hand, the
like corruption is found; and is great in proportion as the
dependence of income upon duty is remote.  In Stateorganizations, therefore, corruption is unavoidable.  In
trading organizations it rarely makes its appearance; and
when it does, the instinct of self-preservation soon provides a remedy.
To all which broad contrasts add this, that while private bodies are enterprising and progressive, public bodies
are unchanging, and, indeed, obstructive. That officialism
snould be inventive nobody expects. That it should go
out of its easy mechanical routine to introduce improvemnents, and this at a considerable expense of thought and
application, without the prospect of profit, is not to be
supposed.  But it is not simply stationary; it strenuously
resists every amendmient either in itself or in any thing




CORRUPTION AND OBSTRUCTIVENESS.               T3
with which it deals.  Until now that County Courts are
taking away their practice, all officers of the law have
doggedly opposed law  reform.   The universities have
maintained an old curriculzm for centuries after it ceased
to be fit; and are now struggling to prevent a threatened
reconstruction. Every postal improvement has been vehemently protested against by the postal authorities.  Mr.
Whiston can say how pertinacious is the conservatism of
Church grammar-schools.  Not even the gravest consequences in view preclude official resistance: witness the
fact that though, as a while since mentioned, Professor Barlow reported in 1820, of the Admiralty compasses then in
store, that "at least one-half were mere lumber," yet notwithstanding the constant risk of shipwrecks thence arising " very little amelioration in this state of things appears
to have taken place until 1838 to 1849."* Nor is official
obstructiveness to be readily overborne even by a powerful public opinion: witness the fact that, though, for
generations, nine-tenths of the nation have disapproved
this ecclesiastical system  which pampers the drones and
starves the workers, and though commissions have been
appointed to rectify it, it still remains substantially as it
was: witness again the fact, that though since 1818, there
have been a score attempts to rectify the scandalous maladministration of Charitable Trusts-though ten times in
ten successive years, remedial measures have been brought
before Parliament-the abuses still continue in all their
grossness.  Not only do these legal instrumentalities resist
refornms in themselves, but they hinder reforms in other
things. In defending their vested interests, the clergy delay
the closing of town burial-grounds.  As Mr. Lindsay can
show, government emigration-agents are checking the use of
iron for sailing-vessels. Excise officers prevent improve.
* "Rudimentary Magnetism, by Sir W. Snow Halis. Part III., p. 145




74                  OVER-LEGISLATION.
ments in the processes they have to overlook. That organic
conservatism which is visible in the daily conduct of all
men, is an obstacle which in private life self-interest slowly
overcomes.  The prospect of profit does, in the end, teach
farmers that deep draining is good; though it takes long
to do this.  Manufacturers do, ultimately, learn the most
economical speed at which to work their steam-engines;
though precedent has long misled them.  But in the public service, where there is no self-interest to overcome it,
this conservatism exerts its full force; and produces results
alike disastrous and absurd.  For generations after bookkeeping had become universal, the Exchequer accounts
were kept by notches cut on sticks. In the estimates for
the current year appears the item, "Trimming the oillamps at the Horse-Guards."
Between these law-made agencies, and the spontaneously-formed ones, who then can hesitate?  The one
class are slow, stupid, extravagant, unadaptive, corrupt,
and obstructive: can any point out in the other, vices
that balance tnese?  It is true that trade has its dishonesties, speculation its follies. These are evils inevitably
entailed by the existing imperfections of humanity. It is
equally true, however, that these imperfections of humanity are shared by State-functionaries; and that being unchecked in them by the same stern discipline, they grow
to far worse results.  Given a race of men having a cer
tain proclivity to misconduct, and the question is, whether
a society of these men shall be so organized that ill-conduct directly brings punishment, or whether it shall be so
organized that punishment is but remotely contingent on
ill-conduct?  Which will be the most healthful community-that in which agents who perform  their functions
badly, immediately suffer by the withdrawal of public
patronage; or that in which such agents can be made to
suffer only through an apparatus of meetings, petitions,




ADVANTAGES OF PRIVATE ENTE.RPRISE.        75
polling booths, parliamentary divisions, cabinet-councils,
and red-tape documents? Is it not an absurdly utopian
hope that men will behave better when correction is far
removed and uncertain than when it is near at hand and
inevitable? Yet this is the hope which most political
schemers unconsciously cherish. Listen to their plans,
and you find that just what they propose to have done,
they assume the appointed agents will do. That functionaries are trustworthy is their first postulate. Doubtless could good officers be ensured, much might be said
for officialism; just as despotism would have its advantages could we ensure a good despot.
If, however, we would duly realize the contrast between the artificial and the natural modes of achieving
social desiderata, we must look not only at the vices of
the one but at the virtues of the other. These are many
and important.  Consider first how immediately every
private enterprise is dependent upon the need for it; and
how impossible it is for it to continue if there be no need.
Daily are new trades and new companies established. If
they subserve some existing public want, they take root
and grow. If they do not, they die of inanition. It
needs no agitation, no act of Parliament, to put them
down. As with all natural organizations, if there is no
function for them, no nutriment comes to them, and they
dwindle away. Moreover, not only do the new agencies
disappear if they are superfluous, but the old ones cease
to be when they have done their work. Unlike law-made
instrumentalities-unlike Herald's Offices, which are maintained for ages after heraldry has lost all value-unlike
Ecclesiastical Courts, which continue to flourish for generations after they have become an abomination; these private instrumentalities dissolve when they become needless.
A widely-ramified coaching system ceases to exist as soon
as a more efficient railway system comes into being. And




f 6                OVER-LEGISLATION.
not simply does it cease to exist, and to abstract funds,
but the materials of which it was made are absorbed and
turned to use.  Coachmen, guards, and the rest, are employed to profit elsewhere-do not continue for twenty
years a burden, like the compensated officials of some
abolished department of the State.
Consider again how necessarily these unordained agencies fit themselves to their work. It is a law of all organized things, that efficiency presupposes apprenticeship.
Not only is it true that the young merchant must begin
by carrying letters to the post, that the way to be a successful innkeeper is to commence as waiter-not only is it
true that in the development of the intellect there must
come first the perceptions of identity and duality, next of
number, and that without these, arithmetic, algebra, and
the infinitesimal calculus, remain impracticable; but it is
true that there is no part of any organism  whatever but
begins in some very simple form with some insignificant
function, and passes to its final stage through successive
phases of complexity.  Every heart is at first a mere
pulsatile sac; every brain begins as a slight enlargement
of the spinal cord.  This law  equally extends to the
social organism.  An instrumentality that is to work well
must not be designed and suddenly put together by legislators, but must grow  gradually from a germ; each successive addition must be tried and proved good by experience before another addition is made; and by this tentative process only, can an efficient instrumentality be produced. From  a trustworthy man who receives deposits
of money, insensibly grows up a vast banking system,
with its notes, checks, bills, its complex transactions,
and its Clearing-house.  Pack-horses, then waggons, then
coaches, then  steam-carriages on common  roads, and,
finally, steam-carriages on roads made for them-such has
seen the slow genesis of our present means of communi



SUPERIORITY OF SPONTANEOUS AGENCIES.          77
cation. Not a trade in the directory but has formed itself
an apparatus of manufacturers, brokers, travellers, and dis
tributors, in so gradual a way that no one can trace the steps.
And so with organizations of another order. The Zoological Gardens, the largest and best thing of its kind in
the world, began as the private collection of a few naturalists.  The best working-class school known-that at
Price's factory-commenced with half-a-dozen boys sitting
among the candle-boxes, after hours, to teach themselves
writing with worn-out pens. Mark, too, that as a consequence of their mode of growth, these spontaneous agencies expand to any extent required. The same stimulus
which brought them  into being makes them  send their
ramifications wherever they are needed. But supply does
not thus readily follow demand In governmental agencies.
Appoint a board and a staff, fix their duties, and let the
apparatus have a generation or two to consolidate, and
you cannot get it to fulfil larger requirements without
some act of parliament obtained only after long delay and
difficulty.
Were there space, much more might be said upon the
superiority of what naturalists would call the exogenous
order of institutions over the endogenous one. But, from
the point of view indicated, the further contrasts between
their characteristics will be sufficiently visible.
Hence then the fact, that while the one order of means
is ever failing, making worse, or producing more evils
than it cures, the other order of means is ever succeeding,
ever improving.  Strong as it looks at the outset, Stateagency perpetually disappoints every one. Puny as are
its first stages, private effort daily achieves results that
astound the world. It is not only that joint-stock companies do so much-it is not only that by them a whole
kingdom is covered with railways in the same time that
it takes the Admiralty to build a hundred-gun ship; but




78                OVE R-LEGISLATION.
it is that law-made instrumentalities are outdone even by
individuals. The often quoted contrast between the Academy whose forty members took fifty-six years to compile
the French Dictionary, while Dr. Johnson alone compiled
the English one in eight-a contrast still marked enough
after making due set-off for the difference in the worksis by no means without a parallel. Sundry kindred facts
may be cited.  That great sanitary desideratum —the
bringing of the New River to London-which the wealthiest corporation in the world attempted and failed, Sir
Hugh Myddleton achieved single-handed. The first canal
in England-a work of which government might have
been thought the fit projector, and the only competent
executor-was undertaken and finished as the private
speculation of one man-the Duke of Bridgewater. By
his own unaided exertions, William Smith completed that
great achievement, the geological map of Great Britain;
meanwhile, the Ordnance Survey-a very accurate and
elaborate one, it is true-has already occupied a large
staff for some two generations, and will not be completed
before the lapse of another. Howard and the prisons of
Europe; Bianconi and Irish travelling; Waghorn and the
Overland route; Dargan and the Dublin Exhibition-do
not these suggest startling contrasts?  While private gentlemen like Mar. Denison, build model lodging-houses in
which the deaths are greatly below the average, the State
builds barracks in which the deaths are greatly above the
average, even of the much-pitied town populations: barracks, which, though filled with picked men under medical supervision, show an annual mortality per thousand of
13*6, 17'9 and even 20'4; though among civilians of the
same age in the same places, the mortality per thousand
is but 11-9.*  While the State has laid out large sums, at
* See "Statistical Reports on the Sickness, Mortality, and Invaliding
amongst the Troops.'   853.




EFFICIENCY OF PRIVATE ENTERPRISE.        79
Parkhurst, in the effort to reform juvenile criminals, who
are not reformed; Mlr. Ellis takes fifteen of the worst
young thieves in London-thieves considered by the po-'ice utterly irreclaimable-and reforms them all. Side by
side with the Emigration Board, under whose management
hundreds die of fever from close packing, and under whose
licence sail vessels which, like the TVashington, are the
homes of fraud, brutality, tyranny, and obscenity, stands
Mrs. Chisholm's Family Colonization Loan Society, which
does not provide worse accommodation than ever before,
but much better; which does not demoralize by promiscuous crowding, but improves by mild discipline; which
does not pauperize by charity, but encourages providence;
which does not increase our taxes, but is self-supporting.
Here are lessons for the lovers of legislation. The State
outdone by a working shoemaker! The State beaten by
a woman!
Yet still stronger becomes this contrast between the
results of public action and private action, when we remember that the one is constantly eked out by the other,
even in doing the things unavoidably left to it. Passing
over military and naval departments, in which much is
done by contractors, and not by men receiving government pay-passing over the Church, which is constantly
extended not by law but by voluntary effort-passing over
the Universities, where all the efficient teaching is given
not by the appointed officers but by private tutors; let us
look at the mode in which our judicial system is worked.
Lawyers perpetually tell us that codification is impossible; and there are many simple enough to believe them.
Merely remarking, in passing, that what government and
all its employes cannot do for the Acts of Parliament in
general, was done for the 1,500 Customs acts in 1825 by
the energy of one man —r. Deacon Hume-let us see
how the absence of a digested sstetem of law is made




30                 OVER-LEGISLATION.
good. In preparing themselves for the bar, and finally
the bench, law students, by years of research, have to gain
an acquaintance with this vast mass of unorganized legis.
lation; and that organization which it is held imp1cssible
for the State to effect, it is held possible (sly sarcasm on
the State!) for each student to effect for himself. Every
judge can privately codify, though "united wisdom" cannot. But how is each judge enabled to codify?  By the
private enterprise of men who have prepared the way for
him; by the partial codifications of Blackstone, Coke, and
others; by the digests of Partnership Law, Bankruptcy
Law, Law of Patents, Laws affecting Women, and the
rest that daily issue from the press; by abstracts of cases,
and volumes of reports-every one of them unofficial products. Sweep away all these fractional codifications made
by individuals, and the State would be in utter ignorance
of its own laws! Had not the bunglings of legislators
been made good by private enterprise, the administration
of justice would have been impossible!
Where, then, is the warrant for the constantly-proposed
extensions of legislative action? If, as we have seen in a
large class of cases, government measures do not remedy
the evils they aim at; if, in another large class, they make
these evils worse instead of remedying them; and if, in
a third large class, while curing some evils they entail
others, and often greater ones-if, as we lately saw, public action is continually outdone in efficiency by private
action; and if, as just shown, private action is obliged to
make up for the shortcomings of public action, even in
fulfilling the vital functions of the State; what reason is
there for wishing more public administrations?  The
advocates of such may claim credit for philanthropy, and
for ingenuity, but not for wisdom; unless wisdom is shown
by disregarding experience.




OBJECTIONS TO THE ARGUMENT.              81
"Much of this argument is beside the question," will
rejoin our opponents.  "The true point at issue is, not
whether individuals and companies outdo the State when
they come in competition with it, but whether there are
not certain social wants which the State alone can satisfy.
Admitting that private enterprise does much, and does it
well, it is nevertheless true that we have daily thrust upon
our notice many desiderata which it has not achieved, and
is not achieving. In these cases its incompetency is otvious; and in these cases, therefore, it behooves the State
to make up for its deficiencies: doing this, if not well, yet
as well as it can."
Not to fall back upon the many experiences already
quoted, showing that the State is likely to do more harm
than good in attempting this; nor to dwell upon the fact,
that, in most of the alleged cases, the apparent insufficiency of private enterprise is a result of previous Stateinterferences, as may be conclusively shown; let us deal
with the proposition on its own terms.  Though there
would have been no need for a Mercantile Marine Act to
prevent the unseaworthiness of ships, and the ill-treatment
of sailors, had there been no Navigation Laws to produce
these; and though were all like cases of evils and shortcomings directly or indirectly produced by law, taken out
of the category, there would probably remain but small
basis for the plea above put; yet let it be granted that,
every artificial obstacle being removed, there would still
remain many desiderata unachieved, which there was no
seeing how spontaneous effort could achieve.  Let all this,
we say, be granted; the propriety of legislative action
may yet be rightly questioned.
For the said plea involves the quite unwarrantable
assumption that social agencies will continue to work only
as they are now working; and will produce no results but
those they seem likely to produce.  It is the habit of this




82                OVER-LEGISLATION.
school of thinkers to make a limited human intelligence
the measure of phenomena which it requires omniscience
to grasp. That which it does not see the way to, it does
not believe will take place. Though society has, genera.
tion after generation, been  growing to developments
which none foresaw, yet there is no practical belief in
unforeseen developments in the future. The parliamentary debates constitute an elaborate balancing of probabilities, having for data things as they are. Meanwhile
every day adds new elements to things as they are, and
seemingly improbable results constantly occur. Who, a few
years ago, expected that a Leicester-square refugee would
shortly become Emperor of the French?  Who looked
for free trade from a landlords' ministry?  Who dreamed
that Irish over-population would spontaneously cure itself,
as it is now doing? So far from social changes arising in
likely ways, they almost always arise in ways that, to
common sense, appear unlikely. A barber's shop was not
a probable-looking place for the germination of the cotton
manufacture. No one supposed that important agricultural improvements would come from a Leadenhall-street
tradesman.  A  farmer would have been the last map
thought of to bring to bear the screw propulsion of steam
ships. The invention of a new order of architecture we
should have hoped from any one rather than a gardener.
Yet while the most unexpected changes are daily wrought
out in the strangest ways, legislation daily assumes that
things will go, just as human foresight thinks they will
go.  Though by the trite exclamation-" What would
our forefathers have said!" there is a constant acknowledgment of the fact, that wonderful results have been achieved
in modes wholly unforeseen, yet there seems no belief that
this will be again. Would it not be wise to admit such a
probability into our politics? May we not rationally infer
that, as in the past so in the future?




ADEQUACY OF NATNURAL AGENCIES.           83
This strong faith in State-agencies is, however, accompanied by so weak a faith in natural agencies (the two
being antagonistic), that, spite of past experience, it wil
by many be thought absurd to rest in the conviction, that
existing social needs will be spontaneously met, though
we cannot say how they will be met. Nevertheless, illustrations exactly to the point are now transpiring before
their eyes.  Instance the adulteration of food-a thing
which law has unsuccessfully tried to stop time after time,
and which yet there seemed no power but law competent
to deal with. Law, however, having tried and failed,
here steps in lTe Lancet, and, with a view to extend its
circulation, begins publishing weekly analyses, and gives
lists of honest and dishonest tradesmen. By-and-by we
shall be having such lists published in other papers, as
portions of these reports have been already. And when
every retailer finds himself thus liable to have his sins
told to all his customers, a considerable improvement may
be expected. Who, now, would have looked for such a
remedy as this?
Instance, again, the scarcely credible phenomenon
lately witnessed in the midland counties. Every one has
heard of the distress of the stockingers —a chronic evil of
some generation or two's standing.  Repeated petitions
have prayed Parliament for remedy; and legislation has
made attempts, but without success. The disease seemed incurable. Two or three years since, however, the circular
knitting machine was introduced-a machine immensely
outstripping the old stocking-frame in productiveness, but
which can make only the legs of stockings, not the feet.
Doubtless, the Leicester and Nottingham artisans regarded
this new engine with alarm, as one likely to intensify their
miseries. On the contrary, it has wholly removed them.
By cheapening production, it has so enormously increased
zonsumption, that the old stocking-frames, which were




84                 OVER-LEGISLATION.
before too many by half for the work to be done, are now
all employed in putting feet to the legs which new machines make. How insane would he have been thought
who anticipated cure from  such a cause! If from the
unforeseen removal of evils we turn to the unforeseen
achievement of desiderata, we find like cases. No one
recognized in Oersted's electro-magnetic discovery the
germ of a new agency for the catching of criminals and
the facilitation of commerce. No one expected railways
to become agents for the diffusion of cheap literature, as
they now are.  No one supposed when the Society of
Arts was planning an international exhibition of manufactures, that the result would be a place for popular recreation and culture at Sydenham.
But there is yet a deeper reply to the appeals of impatient philanthropists.  It is not simply that social vitality
may be trusted by-and-by to fulfil each much-exaggerated
requirement in some quiet spontaneous way-it is not simply that when thus naturally fulfilled it will be fulfilled
efficiently, instead of being botched as when attempted
artificially; but it is that until thus naturally fulfilled it
ought not to be fulfilled at all. A startling paradox, this,
to many; but one quite justifiable, as we hope shortly to
show.
It was pointed out some distance back, that the force
which produces and sets in motion every social mechanism-governmental, mercantile, or other-is some accumulation of personal desires. As there is no individual action without a desire, so, it was urged, there can be no
social action without an aggregate desire.  To which
there here remains to add, that as it is a general law ot
the individual that the intenser desires-those corresponding to all-essential functions-are satisfied first, and if need
be to the neglect of the weaker and less important ones
so, it must be a general law of society that the chief requl




ORDER OF SOCIAL EVOLITION.              85
sites of social life-those necessary to popular existence
and multiplication-will, in the natural order of things,
be subserved before those of a less pressing kind. H-aving a common root in humanity, the two series of phe
nomena cannot fail to accord. As the private man first
ensures himself food; then clothing and shelter; these
being secured, takes a wife; and, if he can afford it, presently supplies himself with carpeted rooms and piano, and
wines, hires servants, and gives dinner parties; so, in the
evolution of society, we see first a combination for defence
against enemies, and for the better pursuit of game; byand-by come such political arrangements as are needed to
maintain this combination; afterwards, under a demand
for more food, more clothes, more houses, arises division
of labour; and when satisfaction of the animal wants has
been tolerably provided for, there slowly grow up science,
and literature, and the arts. Is it not obvious that these
successive evolutions occur in the order of their importance?  Is it not obvious, that being each of them produced by an aggregate desire they 2must occur in the order
of their importance, if it be a law of the individual that
the strongest desires correspond to the most needful actions?  Is it not, indeed, obvious that the order of relative importance will be more uniformly followed in social
action than in individual action; seeing that the personal
idiosyncrasies which disturb that order in the latter case
are averaged in the former?
If any one does not see this, let him take up a book
describing life at the gold-diggings. There he will find
the whole process exhibited in little.  He will read that
as the diggers must eat, they are compelled to offer such
prices for food, that it pays better to keep a store than to
dig. As the store-keepers must get supplies, they will
give enormous sums for carriage from the nearest town;
and some men quickly seeing they can get rich at that




86                 OVER-LEGISLATION.
make it their business.  This brings drays and horses
into demand; the high rates draw these from all quarters,
and after them wheelwrights and harness-makers. Blacksmiths to sharpen pickaxes, doctors to cure fevers, get pay
exorbitant in proportion to the need for them; and are so
brought flocking in proportionate numbers. Presently
commodities become scarce; more must be fetched from
abroad; sailors must have increased wages to prevent
them from deserting; this necessitates higher charges for
freight; higher freights quickly bring more ships; and so
there rapidly develops an organization for supplying goods
from all parts of the world. Every phase of this evolution takes place in the order of its necessity; or as we say
-in the order of the intensity of the desires subserved.
Each man does that which he finds pays best; that which
pays best is that for which other men will give most; that
for which they will give most is that which, under the
circumstances, they most desire. Hence the succession
must be throughout from the more important to the less
important. A requirement which at any period still remains unfulfilled, must be one for the fulfilment of which
men will not pay so much as to make it worth any one's
while to fulfil it-must be a less requirement than all the
others for the fulfilment of whlich they will pay more; and
must wait until other more needful things are done. Well,
is it not clear that the same law holds good in every community?  Will it not be true of the later phases of social
evolution, as of the earlier, that when uncontrolled the
smaller desiderata are postponed to the greater?  No
reasonable person can doubt it.
Ience, then, the justification of the seeming paradox,
that until spontaneously fulfilled a public want should not
be fulfilled at all. It must, on the average, result in our
complex state, as in simpler ones, that the thing left
undone is a thing by doing which citizens cannot gain sc




HOW TO FIND WHAT IS MOST NEEDFUL.            87
much as by doing other things-is therefore a thing which
society does not want done so much as it wants these
other things done; and the corollary is, that to effect a
neglected thing by artificially employing citizens to do it,
s to leave undone some more important thing which they.vould have been doing-is to sacrifice the greater requisite to the smaller.
"But," it will perhaps be objected, "if the things done
by a government, or at least by a representative government, are also done in obedience to some aggregate desire,
why may we not look for this normal subordination of
the more needful to the less needful in them too?"  The
reply is, that thougn they have a certain tendency to follow this order-though those primal desires for public
defence and personal protection, out of which government
originates, were satisfied through its instrumentality in
proper succession-though possibly some other early and
simple requirements may have been so too; yet, when the
desires are not few, universal, and intense, but like those
remaining to be satisfied in the latter stages of civilization, numerous, partial, and moderate, the judgment of
a government is no longer to be trusted.  To select out
of an immense number of minor wvants, physical, intellectual, and moral, felt in different degrees by different
classes, and by a total mass varying in every case, the
want that is most pressing, is a task which no legislature
can accomplish. No man or men by inspecting society
can see what it most needs; society must be left to feel
what it most needs. The mode of solution must be experimental, not theoretical. When left, day after day, to
experience evils and dissatisfactions of various kinds,
affecting them in various degrees, citizens gradually acquire repugnance to these proportionate to their greatness,
and corresponding desires to get rid of them, which are
ikely to end in the worst inconvenience being first re




38                OVER-LEGISLATION.
moved. And however irregular this process may be —
and we admit that men's habits and prejudices produce
many anomalies, or seeming anomalies, in it-it is a process far more trustworthy than are legislative judgments.
For those who question this there are instances; and that
the parallel may be the more conclusive, we will take a
case in which the ruling power is deemed specially fit to
decide; we refer to our means of communication.
Do those who maintain that railways would have been
better laid out and constructed by government, hold that
the order of importance would have been as uniformly
followed as it has been by private enterprise? Under the
stimulus of an enormous traffic-a traffic too great for the
then existing means —the first line sprung up between
Liverpool and 3Manchester. Next came the Grand Junction and the London and Birmingham; afterwards the
Great Western, the South Western, the South Eastern,
the Eastern Counties, the Midland. Since then subsidiary
lines and branches have occupied our capitalists.  As
they were quite certain to do, companies made first the
most needed, and therefore the best-paying lines; under the
same impulse that a labourer chooses high wages in preference to low. That government would have adopted a better order can hardly be, for the best has been followed;
but that it would have adopted a worse, all the evidence
we have goes to show. In default of materials for a direct
parallel, we might quote cases of injudicious road-making
from India and the colonies. Or, as exemplifying Stateefforts to facilitate communication, we might dwell on the
fact, that while our rulers have sacrificed hundreds of lives
and spent untold treasure in seeKlng a Northwest passage,
which would be useless if found, they have left the exploration of the Isthmus of Panama, and the making railways
and canals through it, to private companies. But, not
to make much of this indirect evidence, we will contenl




ENGLISH EXPERIENCE IN STATE CANALS           89
ourselves with the one sample of a State-made channel for
commerce, which we have at home —the Caledonian Canal.
Up to the present time, this public work has cost upwards
of 1,100,0001.; it has now been open for many years, and
salaried emissaries have been constantly employed to get
traffic for it; the results, as given in its forty-seventh
annual report, issued in 1852, are-receipts during the
year, 7,9091.; expenditure ditto, 9,2611.-loss, 1,3521. Has
any such large investment been made with such a pitiful
result by a private canal company?
And if a government is so bad a judge of the relative
importance of social requirements, when these requirements are of the same kind, how worthless a judge must it
be when they are of different kinds. If, where a fair share
of intelligence might be expected to lead them right, legislators and their officers go so wrong, how terribly will
they err where no amount of intelligence would suffice
them-where they must daily decide among hosts of
needs, bodily, intellectual, and moral, that admit of no
direct comparison; and how disastrous must be the results
if they act out their erroneous decisions.  Should any one
need this bringing home to him by an illustration, let him
read the following extract from the last of the series of
letters some time since published in the liorning Chroni.
cle, on the state of agriculture in France. After expressing the opinion that French farming is some century behind English farming, the writer goes on to say:
"There are two causes principally chargeable with
this. In the first place, strange as it may seem in a coun.
try in which two-thirds of the population are agricultui
ists, agriculture is a very unhonoured occupation.  Devel
op in the slightest degree a Frenchman's mental faculties,
pnd he flies to a town as surely as steel filings fly to a
loadstone. He has no rural tastes, no delight in rural
habits. A French amateur farmer would indeed be a sight




90                OVER-LEGISLATION.
to see. Again, this national tendency is directly encour.
aged by the centralizing system of government-by the
multitude of officials, and by the payment of all functionaries. From all parts of France, men of great energy and
resource struggle up, and fling themselves on the world
of Paris. There they try to become great functionaries.
Through every department of the eighty-four, men of less
energy and resource struggle up to the chef-lie —the provincial capital. There they try to become little function.
aries. Go still lower-deal with a still smaller scale-and
the result will be the same. As is the department to
France, so is the arrondissement to the department, and the
commune to the arrondissement. All who have, or think
they have, heads on their shoulders, struggle into towns to
fight for office. All who are, or are deemed by themselves
or others, too stupid for any thing else, are left at home to
till the fields, and breed the cattle, and prune the vines,
as their ancestors did for generations before them. Thus
there is actually no intelligence left in the country. The
whole energy, and knowledge, and resource of the land
are barreled up in the towns. You leave one city, and in
many cases you will not meet an educated or cultivated
individual until you arrive at another-all between is
utter intellectual barrenness." —) orning Chronicle, August, 1851.
To what end now is this constant abstraction of able
men from rural districts? To the end that there may be
enough functionaries to achieve those many desiderata
which French governments have thought ought to be
achieved-to provide amusements, to manage mines, to
construct roads and bridges and erect numerous buildings
-to print books, encourage the fine arts, control this
trade, and inspect that manufacture-to do all the thousand.
and-one things which the State does in France. That the
army of officers needed for this may be maintained, agri




HOW IT WORKS IN FRANCE.                91
culture must go unofficered. That certain social conveniences may be better secured, the chief social necessity
is neglected. The very basis of the national life is sapped,
to gain a few non-essential advantages.  Said we not truly,
then, that until a requirement is spontaneously fulfilled, it
shouldI not be fulfilled at all?
And here indeed we may recognize the close kinship
between the fundamental fallacy involved in these Statemeddlings and the fallacy lately exploded by the freetrade agitation.  These various law-made instrumentalities for effecting ends that might otherwise not yet be
effected, all embody a subtler form of the protectionist
hypothesis. The same short-sightedness which, looking
at commerce, prescribed bounties and restrictions, looking
at social affairs in general, prescribes these multiplied
administrations; and the same criticism  applies alike to
all its proceedings.
For was not the error that vitiated every law aiming
at the artificial maintenance of a trade, substantially that
which we have just been dwelling upon: namely, the
overlooking the fact, that in setting people to do one
thing, some other thing is necessarily left undone? The
statesmen who thought it wise to protect home-made
silks against French silks, did so under the impression that
the manufacture thus secured constituted a pure gain to
the nation. They did not reflect that the men employed
in this manufacture would otherwise have been producing
something else-a something else which, as they could
produce it without legal help, they could more profitably
produce.' Landlords who have been so anxious to prevent
foreign wheat from  displacing their own wheat, have
never duly realized the fact, that if their fields would not
yield wheat so economically as to prevent the feared dis.
placement, it simply proved that they were growing unfit




92                OVER-LEGISLATION.
crops in place of fit crops; and so working their land at a
relative loss. In all cases where, by restrictive duties, a
trade has been upheld that would otherwise not have
existed, capital has been turned into a channel less productive than some other into which it would naturally
have flowed.  In the absence of these restrictions, the
article made would have been fetched from some place
where it was more cheaply made; and in exchange for it
we should have given some article in which aptitude and
local circumstances enabled us to excel those with whom
we thus exchanged. And so, to pursue certain Statepatronized occupations, men have been drawn from more
advantageous occupations.
Is it not, then, as above alleged, that the same oversight runs through all these interferences; be they with
commerce, or be they with other things?  Is it not that
in employing people to achieve this or that desideratum,
legislators have not perceived that they were thereby preventing the achievement of some other desideratum?
Has it not been constantly assumed that each proposed
good would, if secured, be a pure good; instead of being
a good purchasable only by submission to some evil that
would else have been remedied? And may we not rationally believe that, as in trade, so in other things, labour
vwill spontaneously find out, better than any government
can find out for it, the things on which it may best expend
itself?  Undoubtedly we may. Rightly regarded, the
tw;o propositions are identical. This division into commnercial and non-commercial affairs is quite a superficial
one. All the actions going on in society come under the
generalization-human effort administering to hwman desire. Whether the administration be eifected through a
process of buying and selling, or whether in any other
way, matters not so far as the general law of it is conecrned. In all cases it will be true that the strongei




ITS NEGATIVE EVILS.                  93
demires will get themselves satisfied before the weaker
ones; and in all cases it will be true that to get satisfaction for the weaker ones before they would naturally have
it, is to deny satisfaction to the stronger ones.
To the immense positive evils entailed by over-legislation have to be added the equally great negative evilsevils which, notwithstanding their greatness, are scarcely
at all recognized, even by the far-seeing. It is not simply
that the State does those things which it ought not to do,
but that, as an inevitable consequence, it leaves undone
those things which it ought to do.  Time and human
activity being limited, it necessarily follows that legisla.
tors' sins of commission entail corresponding sins of omission.  The injury is unavoidably doubled.  Mischievous
meddling involves disastrous neglect; and until statesmen
are ubiquitous and omnipotent, must ever do so. It is in
the very nature of things that an agency employed for
two purposes must fulfil both imperfectly; partly because
while fulfilling the one it cannot be fulfilling the other, and
partly because its adaptation to both ends implies incomplete fitness for either. As has been well said apropos of
this point-" A blade which is designed both to shave and
to carve, will certainly not shave so well as a razor or
carve so well as a carving-knife. An academy of painting,
which should also be a bank, would in all probability
exhibit very bad pictures and discount very bad bills. A
gas company, which should also be an infant-school society,
would, we apprehend, light the streets ill, and teach the
children ill."*
And if an institution undertakes, not two functions,
but a score-if a government, whose office it is to defend
citizens against aggressors, foreign and domestic, engages
* Edinburgh Review, April, 1839.




94                 OVER-LEGISLATION.
also to disseminate Christianity, to administer charity, to
teach children their lessons, to adjust prices of food, to
inspect coal-nlines, to regulate railways, to superintend
house-building, to arrange cab-fares, to look into people's
stink-traps, to vaccinate their children, to send out emigrants, to prescribe hours of labour, to examine lodginghouses, to test the knowledge of mercantile captains, to
provide public libraries, to read and authorize dramas, to
inspect passenger-ships, to see that small dwellings are
supplied with water, to regulate endless things from  a
banker's issues down to the boat-fares on the Serpentineis it not manifest that its primary duty must be ill discharged in proportion to the multiplicity of affairs it busies
itself with? Is it not manifest that its time and energies
must be frittered away in schemes, and inquiries, and
andmdments, in proposals, and debates, and divisions, to
the utter neglect of its essential office?  And does not a
glance over the debates make it manifest that this is the
fact? and that, while parliament and public are alike occupied with these chimerical projects, these mischievous
interferences, these utopian hopes, the one thing needful is
left almost undone?
See here, then, the proximate cause of all our legal
abominations.  We drop the substance in our efforts to
catch shadows.  While our firesides, and clubs, and taverns are filled with talk about corn-law questions, and
church questions, and education questions, and sanitary
questions-all of them raised by over-legislation-the justice question gets scarcely any attention; and we daily
submit to be oppressed, cheated, robbed. This institution,
which should succour the man who has fallen among
thieves, turns him over to solicitors, barristers, and a legion
of law-officers; drains his purse for writs, briefs, affidavits, subpoenas, fees of all kinds and expenses innumera.
ble; involves him  in the intricacies of common courts




THE STATE NEGLECTS ITS TRUE WORK.           9.5
chancery courts, suits, counter-suits, and appeals; and
often ruins where it should aid. Meanwhile, meetings are
called, and leading articles written, and votes asked, and
societies formed, and agitations carried on, not to rectify
these gigantic evils, but partly to abolish our ancestors'
mischievous meddlings, and partly to establish meddlings
of our own. Is it not obvious that this fatal neglect is a
result of this mistaken officiousness? Suppose that external and internal protection had been the sole recognized
functions of the legislature. Is it conceivable that our
administration of justice would have been as corrupt as
now?  Can any one believe that had parliamentary elections been habitually contested on questions of legal reform, our judicial system would still have been what Sir
John Romilly calls it-" a technical system invented for
the creation of costs"? Does any one suppose that, if the
efficient defence of person and property had been the constant subject-matter of hustings pledges, we should yet be
waylaid by a Chancery Court which has now more than
two hundred millions of property in its clutches-which
keeps suits pending fifty years, until all the funds are gone
in fees-which swallows in costs two millions annually?
Dare any one assert that had constituencies been always
canvassed on principles of law-reform versus law-conservatism, Ecclesiastical Courts would have continued for centuries fattening on the goods of widows and orphans?
The questions are next to absurd.
A child may see that with the general knowledge people have of legal corruptions and the universal detestation
of legal atrocities, an end would long since have been put
to them, had the administration of justice always been the
political topic. Hlad not the public mind been constantly
preoccupied, it could never have been tolerated that 4
man, neglecting to file an answer to a bill in due course,
should he imprisoned fifteen years for contempt of court,
5




96                OVER-LEGISLATION.
as Mr. James Taylor was. It would have been impossible
that on the abolition of their sinecures the sworn-clerks
should have been compensated by the continuance of their
exhorbitant incomes, not only till death, but for seven
years after, at a total estimated cost of ~700,000. Weere
the State confined to its defensive and judicial functions,
not only the people but legislators themselves would agitate against abuses.  The sphere of activity and the
opportunities for distinction being narrowed, all the
thought, and industry, and eloquence which members of
Parliament now expend on countless impracticable schemes
and countless artificial grievances, would be expended in
rendering justice pure, certain, prompt, and cheap. The
complicated follies of our legal verbiage, which the uninitiated cannot understand, and which the initiated interpret
in various senses, would be quickly put an end to. We
should no longer constantly hear of Acts of Parliament so
bunglingly drawn up that it requires half a dozen actions
and judges' decisions under them, before even lawyers can
say how they apply. There would be no such stupidlydesigned measures as the Railway Winding-up Act; which
though passed in 1846 to close the accounts of the bubble
schemes of the mania, leaves them still unsettled in 1854
-which, even with funds in hand, withholds payment
from  creditors whose claims have been  years since
admitted. Lawyers would no lounger be suffered to maintain and to complicate the present absurd system of land
titles; which, besides the litigation and ruin it perpetually
causes, lowers the value of estates, prevents the ready
application of capital to them, checks the development of
agriculture, and so, seriously hinders the improvement of
the peasantry and the prosperity of the country. In short,
the follies, terrors, and abominations which now environ
law  would cease; and that which men now shrink from
as an enemy they would come to regard as what it pur.
ports to be-a friend.




LAW THE ENEMY OF THE CITIZEN.            97
How vast then is the negative evil, which, in addition
to the positive evils before enumerated, this meddling
policy entails on us! How many are the grievances men
bear, from which they would otherwise be free! Who is
there that has not submitted to injuries rather than run the
risk of heavy law-costs? Who is there that has not abandoned just claims rather than "throw good money after
bad "? Who is there that has not paid unjust demands
rather than withstand the threat of an action?  Who is
there that cannot point to property that has been alienated
from his family from lack of funds, or courage to fight for
it? Who is there that has not a relation ruined by a lawsuit? Who is there that does not know a lawyer who has
grown rich on the hard earnings of the needy and the
savings of the oppressed?  Who is there that cannot
name a once wealthy man who has been brought by legal
iniquities to the workhouse or the lunatic asylum? Who
is there that has not, within his own personal knowledge,
evidence of the great extent to which the badness of our
judicial system vitiates our whole social life: renders
almost every family poorer than it would otherwise be;
hampers almost every business transaction; inflicts daily
anxieties on every trader? And all this continual loss
of property, time, temper, comfort, men quietly submit
to from  being absorbed in the pursuit of impracticable
schemes which eventually bring upon them other losses of
kindred nature.
Nay, the case is even worse. It is distinctly proveable
that many of these evils, about which so great an outcry
is raised, and to cure which special Acts of Parliament are
so loudly invoked, are themselves produced by the disgraceful administration of our judicial system. For exsmple, it is well known that the horrors out of which our
sanitary agitators make political capital, are found in their
greatest intensity on properties that have been for a general




98                OVER-LEGISLAT1ON.
tion in Chancery-are distinctly traceable to the ruin thus
brought about; and would never have existed but for the
infamous corruptions of law. Again, it has been clearly
shown that the long-drawn miseries of Ireland, which have
been the subject of endless legislation-of Coercion Bills,
of Poor Laws, of Rates in Aid, of Drainage Bills, of tinkerings without number-have been mainly produced by
inequitablel and-tenure and the complicated system of
entail: a system which wrought such involvements as to
prevent sales; which practically negatived all improvement; which brought landlords to the workhouse; and
which required an Incumbered Estates Act to cut its
gordian knots and render the proper cultivation of the
soil possible.
Judicial negligence, too, is the main cause of railway
accidents. If the State would duly fulfil its true function,
by giving passengers an easy remedy for breach of contract when trains are behind time, it would do more to
prevent accidents than can be done by the minutest inspection, or the most cunningly-devised regulations; for
it is notorious that the majority of accidents are primarily
caused by irregularity. In the case of bad house-building,
also, it is obvious that a cheap, rigorous, and certain
administration of justice, would make Building Acts needless. For is not the man who erects a house of bad
materials ill put together, and, concealing these with
papering and plaster, sells it as a substantial dwelling,
gailty of fraud? And should not the law recognize this
fraud as it does in the analogous case of an unsound horse?
And if the legal remedy were easy, prompt, and sure,
would builders be such fools as to continue transgressing?
So is it in numerous other cases: the evils which men
perpetually call upon the State to cure by superintendence, themselves arise from the non-performance of its
original duty.




CONSEQU ENCES OF NEGLECTING JUSTICE.       99
Observe then how this vicious policy complicates it.
self-how it acts and reacts, and multiplies its injuries.
Not only does meddling legislation fail to cure the evils it
aims at; not only does it make many evils worse; not
only does it create new evils greater than the old; but
while doing this it entails on men all the terrible oppressions, robberies, cruelties, ruin, that flow from the nonadministration of justice: and not only to the positive
evils does it add this vast negative one, but this again, by
fostering many social abuses that would not else exist,
furnishes occasions for more meddlings which again act
and react in the same way. And thus as ever, " things
bad begun make strong themselves by ill."
After assigning reasons thus fundamental, for condemning all State-action save that which universal experience
has proved to be absolutely needful, it would seem superfluous to assign subordinate ones. Were it called for, we
might, taking for text Mr. Lindsay's work on "Navigation and Mercantile Marine Law," say much upon the
complexity to which this process of adding regulation to
regulation-each  necessitated by foregoing ones-ultimately leads: a complexity which, by the misunderstandings, delays, and disputes it entails, greatly hampers our
social life. Something, too, might be added upon the
perturbing effects of that "gross delusion," as M. Guizot
calls it, "a belief in the sovereign power of political machinery"-a delusion to which he partly ascribes, and,
we believe, rightly so, the late revolution in France; and
a delusion which is fostered by every new interference.
But, passing over these, we would dwell for a short space
upon the national enervation which this State-superintendence produces-an evil which, though secondary, is,
so far from being subordinate, perhaps greater than any
other.




LOG              OVER-LEGISLATION.
The enthusiastic philanthropist, urgent for some act of
parliament to remedy this evil or secure the other good,
thinks it a very trivial and far-fetched objection that the
people will be morally injured by doing things for them
instead of leaving them to do things themselves. He
vividly realizes the benefit he hopes to get achieved, which
is a positive and readily imaginable thing: he does not
realize the diffused, invisible, and slowly-accumulating
effect wrought on the popular mind, and so does not
believe in it; or, if he admits it, thinks it beneath consideration.  Would he but remember, however, that all
national character is gradually produced by the daily
action of circumstances, of which each day's result seems
so insignificant as not to be worth mentioning, he would
see that what is trifling when viewed in its increments,
may be formidable when viewed in its sum total. Or if
he would go into the nursery, and watch how repeated
actions-each of them apparently unimportant, create, in
the end, a habit which will affect the whole future life;
he would be reminded that, every influence brought to bear
on human nature tells, and if continued, tells seriously.
The thoughtless mother who hourly yields to the requests
-"Mamma, tie my pinafore," "Mamma, button my shoe,"
and the like, cannot be persuaded that each of these concessions is detrimental; but the wiser spectator sees that
if this policy be long pursued, and be extended to other
things, it will end in hopeless dependence. The teacher
of the old school who showed his pupil the way out of
every difficulty, did not perceive that he was generating
an attitude of mind greatly militating against success in
life. The modern instructor, however, induces his pupil
to solve his difficulties himself; believes that in so doing
le is preparing him to meet the difficulties which, when
he goes into the world, there will be no one to help him
through; and finds confirmation for this belief in the fact




THE STATE DISCOURAGES SELF-HELP.         101
that a great proportion of the most successful men are
self-made.
Well, is it not obvious that this relationship betweer
discipline and success holds good nationally? Are not
nations made of men; and are not men subject to the same
laws of modification in their adult as in their early years?
Is it not true of the drunkard, that each carouse adds a
thread to his bonds? of the trader, that each acquisition
strengthens the wish for acquisitions? of the pauper, that
the more you assist him the more he wants? of the busy
man, that the more he has to do the more he can do?
And does it not follow that if every individual is subject
to this process of adaptation to conditions, a whole nation
must be so-that just in proportion as its members are
little helped by extraneous power they will become selfhelping, and in proportion as they are much helped they
will become helpless?  What folly is it to ignore these
results because they are not direct, and not immediately
visible. Though slowly wrought out, they are inevitable.
We can no more elude the laws of human development
than we can elude the law of gravitation: and so long as
they hold true must these effects occur.
If we are asked in what special directions this alleged
helplessness, entailed  by much  State-superintendence,
shows itself; we reply that it is seen in a retardation of
all social growths requiring self-confidence in the people
-in a timidity that fears all difficulties not before encountered-in a thoughtless contentment with things as they
are. Let any one, after duly watching the rapid evolution going on in England, where men have been comparatively little helped by governments-or better still, after
contemplating the unparalleled progress of the United
States, which is peopled by self-made men, and the recent
descendants of self-made men;-let such an one, we say,
go on to the Continent, and consider the relatively slow




102              OVER-LEGISLATION.
advance which things are there making; and the still
slower advance they would make but for English enterprise. Let him go to Holland, and see that though the
Dutch early showed themselves good mechanics, and have
had abundant practice in hydraulics, Amsterdam has been
without any due supply of water until now that works
are being established by an English company. Let him
go to Berlin, and there be told that, to give that city a
water-supply such as London has had for generations, the
project of an English firm is about to be executed by
English capital, under English superintendence. Let him
go to Paris, where he will find a similar lack, and a like
remedy now under consideration. Let him go to Vienna,
and learn that it, in common with other continental cities,
is lighted by an English gas-company. Let him go on
the Rhone, on the Loire, on the Danube, and discover
that Englishmen established steam  navigation on. those
rivers. Let him inquire concerning the railways in Italy,
Spain, France, Sweden, Denmark, how many of them are
English projects, how many have been largely helped by
English capital, how many have been executed by English contractors, how many have had English engineers.
Let him discover, too, as he will, that where railways have
been government-made, as in Russia, the energy, the perseverance, and the practical talent developed in England
and the United States have been called in to aid.
And then if these illustrations of the progressiveness
of a self-dependent race, and the torpidity of paternallygoverned ones, do not suffice him, he may read Mr. Laing's
successive volumes of European travel, and there study
the contrast in detail. What, now, is the cause of this
contrast? In the order of nature, a capacity for self-help
must in every case have been brought into existence by
the practice of self-help; and, other things equal, a lack
of this capacity must in every case have arisen from the




ARREST OF NATIONAL GROWTH.           103
lack of demand for it. Do not these two antecedents and
their two consequents agree with the facts as presented in
England and Europe? Were not the inhabitants of the
two, some centuries ago, much upon a par in point of enterprise?  Were not the English even behind, in their
manufactures, in their colonization, and in their com
merce? Has not the immense relative change the English
have undergone in this respect, been coincident with the
great relative self-dependence they have been since habituated to? And is not this change proximately ascribable to
this habitual self-dependence? Whoever doubts it, is asked
to assign a more probable cause. Whoever admits it, must
admit that the enervation of a people by perpetual Stateaids is not a trifling consideration, but the most weighty
consideration. A general arrest of national growth he will
see to be an evil greater than any special benefits can compensate for. And, indeed, when, after contemplating this
great fact, the overspreading of the Earth by the AngloSaxons, he remarks the absence of any parallel phenomenon exhibited by a continental race-when he reflects how
this difference must depend chiefly on difference of character, and how such difference of character has been mainly
produced by difference of discipline; he will perceive that
the policy pursued in this matter may have a large share
in determining a nation's ultimate fate.
We are not sanguine, however, that argument will
change the convictions of those who put their trust in
legislation. With men of a certain order of thought the
foregoing reasons will have weight. With men of another
order of thought they will have little or none: nor would
any accumulation of such reasons affect them. The truth
that experience teaches, has its limits. The experiences
that will teach, must be experiences that can be appreciated; and experiences exceeding a certain degree of comr




L04               OVER-LEGISLATI N.
plexity become inappreciable to the majority. It is thus
with most social phenomena. If we remember that for
these two thousand years and more, mankind have been
making regulations for commerce, which have all along
been strangling some trades, and killing others with kind
ness; and that though the proofs of this have been constantly before their eyes, they have only just discoverel
that they have been uniformly doing mischief; —if we
remember that even now only a small portion of them see
thie; we are taught that perpetually-repeated and everaccumulating experiences will fail to teach, until there
exist the mental conditions required for the assimilation of
them. Nay, when they are assimilated, it is very imperfectly.  The truth they teach is only half understood,
even by those supposed to understand it best. For example, Sir Robert Peel, in one of his last speeches, after describing the immensely-increased consumption consequent
on free trade, goes on to say:
"If, then, you can only continue that consumption-if,
by your legislation, under the favour of Providence, you
can maintain the demand for labour and make your trade
and manufactures prosperous, you are not only increasing
the sum of human happiness, but are giving the agriculturists of this country the best chance of that increases
demand which must contribute to their welfare."-Timcs
Feb. 22, 1850.
Thus the prosperity really due to the abandonment of
all legislation, is ascribed to a particular kind of legislation. "You can maintain the demand," he says; "you
can make trade and manufactures prosperous;" whereas,
the facts he quotes prove that they can do this only by
doing nothing. The essential truth of the matter-that
law had been doing immense harm, and that this prosperi.
ty resulted not from law, but from the absence of law-is
missed; and his faith in legislation in general, which




BLIND WORSHIP OF GOVERMNIENT.           105
should, by this experience, have been greatly shaken
seemingly remains as strong as ever. Here, again, is the
House of Lords, apparently not yet believing in the relationship of supply and demand, adopting within these few
weeks, the standing order"That before the first reading of any bill for making
any work in the construction of which compulsory power
is sought to take thirty houses or more inhabited by the
labouring classes in any one parish or place, the promoters be required to deposit in the office of the clerk of the
parliaments a statement of the number, description, and
situation of the said houses, the number (so far as they
can be estimated) of persons to be displaced, and whether
any and what provision is made in the billfor remedying
the inconvenience likely to arise from  such displacements."
If, then, in the comparatively simple relationships of
trade, the teachings of experience remain for so many ages
unperceived, and are so imperfectly apprehended when
they are perceived, it is scarcely to be hoped that where
all social phenomena-moral, intellectual, and physicalare involved, any due appreciation of the truths displayed will presently take place. The facts cannot yet get
recognized as facts. As the alchemist attributed his successive disappointments to some disproportion in the ingredients, some impurity, or some too great temperature,
and never to the futility of his process, or the impossibility of his aim; so, every failure cited to prove the impotence of State-regulations the law-worshipper explains
away as being caused by this trifling oversight, or that
little mistake: all which oversights and mistakes he assures
you will in future be avoided. Eluding the facts as he
does after this fashion, volley after volley of them produce
uo effect.
Indeed, this faith in governments is in a certain sense




106               OVEP-LEGISLATION.
organic; and can diminish only by being outgrown. A
subtle form of fetishism, it is as natural to the present
phase of human evolution as its grosser prototype was
to an earlier phase. From the time when rulers were
* thought demi-gods, there has been a gradual decline in
men's estimates of their power. This decline is still in
progress, and has still far to go. Doubtless, every increment of evidence furthers it in some degree, though not to
the degree that at first appears. Only in so far as it modifies character does it produce a permanent effect. For
while the mental type remains the same, the removal of
a special error is inevitably followed by the growth of
other errors of the same genus. All superstitions die hard;
and we fear that this belief in government-omnipotence
will form no exception.




Inl.
THE MORALS OF TRADE.
W    E are not about to repeat, under the above title,
the often-told tale of adulterations: albeit, were it
our object to deal with this familiar topic, there are not
wanting fresh materials. It is rather the less-observed
and less-known dishonesties of trade, to whic we would
here draw attention. The same lack of conscientiousness
which shows itself in the mixing of starch with cocoa, in
the dilution of butter with lard, in the colouring of confectionary with chromate of lead and arsenite of copper,
must of course come out in more concealed forms; and
these are nearly, if not quite, as numerous and as mischievous.
It is not true, as many suppose, that only the lower
classes of the commercial world are guilty of fraudulent
dealings: those above them are to a great extent blameworthy. On the average, men who deal in bales and tons
differ but little in morality from men who deal in yards
and pounds. Illicit practices, of every form  and shade,
from venial deception up to all but direct theft, may be
brought home to the higher grades of our commercial
world. Tricks innumerable, lies acted or uttered, elaborately-devised frauds, are prevalent-many of them estab




[08            THE MORALS OF TRADE.
lished as " customs of the trade;" nay, not only estab'
lished but defended.
Passing over, then, the much-reprobated shopkeepers,
of whose delinquencies most people know something, let
us turn our attention to the delinquencies of the classes
above them in the mercantile scale.
The business of wholesale houses-in the clothing.
trades at least-is chiefly managed by a class of men
called " buyers." Each wholesale establishment is usually
divided into several departments; and at the head of each
of these departments is placed one of these functionaries.
A buyer is a partially-independent sub-trader. At the
beginning of the year he is debited with a certain share of
the capital of his employers. With this capital he trades.
From the makers he orders for his department such goods
as he thinks will find a market; and for the goods thus
bought he obtains as large a sale as he can among the
retailers of his connection. The accounts show at the end
of the year, what profit has been made on the capital over
which he has command; and according to the result, his
engagement is continued, perhaps at an increased salary,
or he is discharged.
Under such circumstances, bribery would hardly be
expected.  Yet we learn, on unquestionable authority,
that buyers habitually bribe and are bribed. Giving presents, as a means of obtaining custom, is an established and
understood practice between them  and all with whom
they have dealings.  Their connection among retailers
they extend by treating and favours; and they are themselves influenced in their purchases by like means. It
might be presumed that self-interest would in both cases
negative this. But apparently, no very obvious sacrifice
results from yielding to such influences. When, as usually
happens, Ihere are many manufacturers producing article,




BRIBERY IN THE CLOTHING TRADES.          109
of like goodness at the same prices, or many buyers be.
tween whose commodities and whose terms there is little
room for choice, there exists no motive to purchase of
one rather than another; and then, the temptation to
take some immediate bonus turns the scale. Whatever
be the cause, however, the fact is testified to us alike in
London and the provinces. By manufacturers, buyers are
sumptuously entertained for days together, and are plied
throughout the year with hampers of game, turkeys,
dozens of wine, etc.; nay, they receive actual moneybribes: sometimes, as we hear from a manufacturer, in
the shape of bank-notes; but more commonly in the shape
of discounts on the amounts of their purchases.
The extreme prevalence-universality we might sayof this system, is proved by the evidence of one who, disgusted as he is, finds himself inextricably entangled in it.
He confessed to us that all his transactions were thus
tainted. "Each of the buyers with whom  I deal," he
said, "expects an occasional bonus in one form or other.
Some require the bribe to be wrapped up; and some take
it without disguise. To an offer of money, such an one
replies-' Oh, I don't like that sort of thing;' but nevertheless, he does not object to money's-worth. While my
fiiend So-and-so, who promises to bring me a large trade
this season, will, I very well know, look for one per cent.
discount in cash. The thing is not to be avoided. I could
name sundry buyers who look askance at me, and never
will inspect my goods; and I have no doubt about the
cause-I have not bought their patronage."  And then our
informant appealed to another of the trade, who agreed in
the assertion that in London, their business could not be
done on any other terms. To such an extent is the system carried, and so greedy of perquisites do some of these
buyers become, as to absorb a great part of the profits;
and to make it a question whether it is worth while to




110            THE MORALS OF TRADE.
continue the connection. And then, as above hinted, there
comes a like history of transactions between buyers and
retailers-the bribed being now the briber. One of those
above referred to as habitually expecting douceurs, said
to the giver of them, whose testimony we have just repeated-" I've spent pounds and pounds over -    (naming
a large tailor), and now I think I have gained him over."
To which confession this buyer added the complaint, that
his house did not make him any allowance for sums thus
disbursed.
Under the buyer, who has absolute control of his own
department in a wholesale house, come a number of assistants, who transact the business with retail traders: much
as retail traders' assistants transact the business with the
general public.  These higher-class assistants, working
under the same pressure as the lower, are similarly unscrupulous. Liable to prompt dismissal as they are for
non-success in selling; gaining higher positions as they do
in proportion to the quantities of goods they dispose of at
profitable rates; and finding that no objections are made'
to any dishonest artifices they use, but rather that they are
applauded for them; these young men display a scarcely
credible demoralization.  As we learn from those who
have been of them, their duplicity is unceasing-they
speak almost continuous falsehood; and their tricks range
from the simplest to the most Machiavellian.
Take a few samples. When dealing with a retailer, it
is an habitual practice to bear in mind the character of
his business; and to delude him respecting articles of
which he has the least experience. If his shop is in a
neighbourhood where the sales are chiefly of inferior goods
(a fact ascertained from the traveller), it is inferred that,
having a comparatively small demand for superior goods,
he is a bad judge of them; and advantage is taken of his
ignorance. Again, it is usual purposely to present sam




CHEATS 1N SELLING CLOTH.             111
pies of cloths, silks, etc., in such order as to disqualify the
perceptions. As when tasting different foods or wines,
the palate is disabled by something strongly flavoured,
from appreciating the more delicate flavour of anothel
thing afterwards taken; so with the other organs of sense,
a temporary disability follows an excessive stimulation.
This holds not only with the eyes in judging of colours,
but also, as we are told by one who has been in the trade,
it holds with the fingers in judging of textures; and cunning salesmen are in the habit of thus partially paralyzing
the customers' perceptions, and then selling second-rate
articles as first-rate ones. Another common manceuvre is
that of raising a false belief of cheapness. Suppose a tailor is laying in a stock of broad cloths. Hle is offered a
bargain. Three pieces are put before him-two of good
quality, at, perhaps, 14s. per yard; and one of much inferior quality, at 8s. per yard. These pieces have been
purposely a little tumbled and creased, to give an apparent reason for a pretended sacrifice upon them. And the
tailor is then told that he may have these nominallydamaged cloths as " a job lot," at 12s. per yard. Misled
by the appearances into a belief of the professed sacrifice; impressed, moreover, by the fact that two of the
pieces are really worth considerably more than the price
asked; and not sufficiently bearing in mind that the great
inferiority of the third just balances this; the tailor probably buys: and he goes away with the comfortable conviction that he has made a specially-advantageous purchase,
when he has really paid the full price for every yard. A
still more subtle trick has been described to us by one
who himself made use of it, when engaged in one of these
wholesale-house-a trick so successful that he was often
sent for to sell to customers who could be induced to buy
by none other of the assistants, and who ever afterwards
would buy only of him. His policy was to seem extremely




112             THE MORALS OF TRADE.
simple and honest, and during the first few purchases to
exhibit his honesty by pointing out defects in the things
he was selling; and then, having gained the customer's
confidence, he proceeded to pass off upon him  inferior
goods at superior prices.
These are a few out of the various manoeuvres in constant practice. Of course there is a running accompaniment of falsehoods, uttered as well as acted. It is expected of the assistant that he will say whatever is needed
to effect a sale. " Any fool can sell what is wanted," said
a master in reproaching a shopman for not having persuaded a customer to buy something quite unlike that
which he asked for. And the unscrupulous mendacity
thus required by employers, and encouraged by example,
grows to a height of depravity that has been described to
us in words too strong to be repeated.  Our informant
was obliged to relinquish his position in one of these
establishments, because he could not lower himself to the
required depth of degradation.  "You don't lie as though
you believe what you say," observed one of his fellowassistants. And this was uttered as a reproach!
As those subordinates who have fewest qualms of conscience are those who succeed the best, are soonest promoted to more remunerative posts, and have therefore the
greatest chances of establishing businesses of their own;
it may be inferred that the morality of the heads of these
establishments, is much on a par with that of their employEs. The habitual mal-practices of wholesale-houses,
confirm this inference. Not only, as we have just seen,
are assistants under a pressure impelling them to deceive
purchasers respecting the qualities of the goods they buy,
but purchasers are also deceived in respect to the quantities; and that, not by an occasional unauthorized trick,
but by an organized system, for which the firm itself is
responsible.  The general, and indeed almost universal




CHEATING IN MEASUREMENT.              113
practice, is, to make up goods, or to have them made up,
in lengths that are shorter than they profess to be. A
piece of calico nominally thirty-six yards long, never measures more than thirty-one yards-is understood throughout the trade to measure only this.. And the long-accumulating delinquencies which this custom indicates-the successive diminutions of length, each introduced by some
adept in dishonesty, and then imitated by his competitor?
-are now being daily carried to a still greater extent,
wherever they are not likely to be immediately detected.
Articles that are sold in small bundles, knots, packets, or
such forms as negative measurement at the time of sale,
are habitually deficient in quantity.  Silk-laces called six
quarters, or fifty-four inches, really measure four quarters,
or thirty-six inches. Tapes were originally sold in grosses
containing twelve knots of twelve yards each; but these
twelve-yard knots are now cut of all lengths, from eight
yards down to five yards, and even less-the usual length
being six yards. That is to say, the 144 yards which the
gross once contained, has now in some cases dwindled
down to 60 yards. In widths, as well as in lengths, this
deception is practised. French cotton-braid, for instance
(French only in name), is made of different widths; which
are respectively marked 5, 7, 9, 11, etc.: each figure indicating the number of threads of cotton which the width
includes, or rather should include, but does not.  For
those which should be marked 5 are marked 7; and those
which should be marked 7 are marked 9: out of three
samples from different houses shown to us by our informant, only one contained the alleged number of threads.
Fringe, again, which is sold wrapped on card, will often
be found two inches wide at the end exposed to view, but
will diminish to one inch at the end next the card; or perhaps the first twenty yards will be good, and all the rest,
hidden under it, will be bad. These frauds are committed




114            THE MORALS OF TRADE.
nnblushingly, and as a matter of business. We have our
selves read in an agent's order-book, the details of an order,
specifying the actual lengths of which the articles were to
be cut, and the much greater lengths to be marked on the
labels. And we have been told by a manufacturer who
was required to make up tapes into lengths of fifteen
yards, and label them  as "warranted 18 yards," that
when he did not label them  falsely, his goods were
sent back to him; and that the greatest concession he
could obtain, was to be allowed to send them without
labels.
It is not to be supposed that in their dealings with
manufacturers, these wholesale-houses adopt a code of
morals differing much from that which regulates their
dealings with retailers. The facts prove it to be much the
same. A buyer for instance (who exclusively conducts
the purchases of a wholesale-house from manufacturers)
will not unfrequently take from a first-class maker a small
supply of some new fabric, on the pattern of which much
time and money have been spent; and this new-pattern
fabric he will put into the hands of another maker, to have
copied in large quantities. Some buyers, again, give their
orders verbally, that they may have the opportunity of
afterwards repudiating them if they wish; and in a case
narrated to us, where a manufacturer who had been thus
deluded, wished on a subsequent occasion to guarantee
himself by obtaining the buyer's signature to his order, he
was refused it.
For other unjust acts of wholesale-houses, the heads of
these establishments are, we presume, responsible. Small
manufacturers working with insufficient capital, and in
times of depression not having the wherewith to meet
their engagements, are often obliged to become depend.
ants on the wholesale-houses with which they deal; and
are then cruelly taken advantage of. One who has thus




INAVERIES OF WHOLESALE HOUSES.          115
committed himself, has either to sell his accumulated stock
at a great sacrifice-thirty to forty per cent. below its
value-or else to mortgage it; and when the wholesalehouse becrmes the mortgagee, the manufacturer has little
chance of escape. He is obliged to work at the wholesaler's terms; and ruin almost certainly follows. This is
especially the case in the silk-hoisery business. As was
said to as by one of the:urger silk-hosiers, who had
watched the destruction of many of his smaller brethren
— "They may be spared for a while as a cat spares a
mouse; tut they are sure to be eaten up in the end."
And we can the more readily credit this statement, from
having found that a like policy is pursued by some provincial curriers in their dealings with small shoe-makers;
and also by hop-merchants and maltsters in their dealings
with small publicans. We read that in Hindostan, the
ryots, when crops fall short, borrow from the Jews to
buy seed; and once in their clutches are doomed. It
seems that our commercial world can furnish parallels.
Of another class of wholesale-traders-those who supply grocers with foreign and colonial produce-we may
say that though, in consequence of the nature of their
business, their mal-practices are less numerous and multi
form, as well as less glaring, they are of much the same
stamp as the foregoing. Unless it is to be supposed that
sugar and spices are moral antiseptics as well as physical
ones, it must be expected that wholesale dealers in them
will transgress much as other wholesale dealers do, in
those directions where the facilities are greatest. And
the truth is, that both in the qualities and quantities of
the articles they sell, they take advantage of the retailers. The descriptions they give of their commodities are
babitually misrepresentations.  Samples sent round to
their customers are characterized as first-rate when they
are really second-rate. The travellers are expected to en.




[16            THE MORALS OF TRADE.
dorse these untrue statements. And unless the groces
has adequate keenness and extensive knowledge, he is
more or less deceived.  In some cases, indeed, no skill
will save him. There are frauds that have grown up
little by little into customs of the trade, which the retailer must submit to. In the purchase of sugar, for example, he is imposed on in respect alike of the goodness
and the weight.
The history of the dishonesty is this: Originally the
tare allowed by the merchant on each hogshead, was 14 per
cent. of the gross weight. The actual weight of the wood
of which the hogshead was made, was at that time about
12 per cent. of the gross weight. And thus the trade
allowance left a profit of 2 per cent. to the buyer. Gradually, however, the hogshead has grown thicker and heavier;
until now, instead of amounting to 12 per cent. of the
gross weight, it amounts to 17 per cent.  And as the
allowance of 14 per cent. still continues, the result is that
the retail grocer loses 3 per cent.: to the extent of 3 per
cent. he buys wood in the place of sugar. In the quality
of the sugar, he is deluded by the practice of giving him
a sample only from the best part of the hogshead. During its voyage from Jamaica or elsewhere, the contents of
a hogshead undergo a certain slow draining. The molasses, of which more or less is always present, filters from
the uppermost part of the mass of sugar to the lowermost
part; and this lowermost part, technically known as the
" foot," is of darker colour and smaller value. The quan
tity of it contained in a hogshead, varies greatly; and the
retailer, receiving a false sample, has to guess what the
quantity of "foot" may be; and to his cost often under.
estimates it. As will be seen from the following letter,
copied from the Public Ledger for the 20th Oct., 1858,
these grievances, more severe even than we have repro
sented them, are now exciting an agitation:




FRAUDS OF WHOLESALE GROCERS.                  117
" To the Retail Grocers of the United Kingdom.
"Gentlemen,-The time has arrived for the trade at once to
make a move for the revision of tares on all raw sugars. Facts
prove the evil of the present system to be greatly on the increase.
We submit a case as under, and only one out of twenty. On the
80th August, 1858, we bought 3 hogsheads of Barbados, mark TG
K
Invoice Tares.            Re Tares.
No.  cwt. qrs. lb. 11).    No. cwt. qrs. lb.
1... 1   2  146 drift.   1.. 1  3  27
7...1   2   7              7.. 1  3  20
8...1   2  21              3..1  3  27
4   3  20                 5  3  18
Dedact.... 4  3  20
s.  ~ s.d.
0  3  26 at 42-2 1 3
" We make a claim for ~2 Is. 3d.; we are told by the wholesale grocer there is no redress.
" There is another evil which the retail grocer has to contend
with, that is, the mode of sampling raw sugar: the foots are excluded from  the merchants' samples. Facts will prove that in
thousands of hogsheads of Barbados this season there is an average of 5 cwt. of foots in each; we have turned out some with 10
cwt., which are at least 5s. per cwt. less value than sample, and in
these cases we are told again there is no redress.
" These two causes are bringing hundreds of hard-working
men to ruin, and will bring hundreds more unless the trade take
it up, and we implore them to unite in obtaining so important a
revision.
" We are, Gentlemen, your obedient servants,
" WALKER and STAINES.*
"Birmingham, October 19, 1858."
A  more subtle method of imposition remains to be
added. It is the practice of sugar-refiners to put moist,
crushed sugar into dried casks.  During the time that
elapses before one of these casks is opened by the retailer,
The abuses described in this letter have now, we believe, been abolished




118             THE MORALS OF TRADE.
the desiccated wood has taken up the excess of watei
from the sugar; which is so brought again into good condition. When the retailer, however, finding that the cask
weighs much more than was allowed as tare by the wholesale dealer, complains to him of this excess, the reply is"Send it up to us, and we will dry it and weigh it, as if
the custom of the trade."
Without further detailing these mal-practices, of which
the above examples are perhaps the worst, we will advert
only to one other point in the transactions of these large
houses-the drawing-up of trade-circulars. It is the practice of many wholesalers to send round to their customers, periodic accounts of the past transactions, present condition, and prospects of the markets. Serving as checks
on each other, as they do, these documents are prevented
from  swerving very widely from  the truth. But it is
scarcely to be expected that they should be quite honest.
Those who issue them, being in most cases interested in
the prices of the commodities referred to in their circulars,
are swayed by their interests in the representations they
make respecting the probabilities of the future. Far-seeing retailers are on their guard against this. A large provincial grocer, who thoroughly understands his business,
said to us-"As a rule, I throw trade-circulars on the
fire." And that this estimate of their trustworthiness is
not unwarranted, we gather from the expressions of those
engaged in other businesses. From two leather-dealers,
one in the country and one in London, we have heard the
same complaint against the circulars published by houses
in their trade, that they are misleading. Not that they
state untruths; but that they produce false impressions
by leaving out facts which they should have stated.
In illustrating the morality of manufacturers, we shall
confine ourselves to one class-those who work in silk.




DISHONESTIES OF MANUFACTURERS.            119
And it will be the most convenient method of arranging
facts, to follow the silk through its various stages; from
its state when imported, to its state when ready for the
we irer.
Bundles of raw  silk from  abroad-not uncommonly
weibhted with rubbish, stones, or rouleaux of Chinese copper coin, to the loss of the buyer-are disposed of by auction. Purchases are made on behalf of the silk-dealers by
"sworn brokers;" and the regulation is, that these sworn
brokers shall confine themselves solely to their functions
as agents.  From  a silk-manufacturer, however, we learn
that they are currently understood to be themselves specaliators in silk, either directly or by proxy; and that as
thus personally interested in prices, they become faulty as
acuts.  We give this, however, simply as a prevailing.pinion; for the truth of which we do not vouch.
The silk bought by the London dealer, he sends into
the manufacturing districts to be " thrown;" that is, to
be made into thread fit for weaving.  In the established
form  of bargain between the silk-dealer and the silkthrowster, we have a strange instance of an organized and
recognized deception; which has seemingly grown out of
a check on a previous deception.  The throwing of silk is
necessarily accompanied by some waste; from  broken
ends, knots, and fibres too weak to wind. This waste
varies in different kinds of silks from 3 per cent. to 20 par
cent.: the average being about 5 per cent.  The percentage of waste being thus variable, it is obvious that in the
absence of restraint, a dishonest silk-throwster might abstract a portion of the silk; and on returning the rest to
the dealer, might plead that the great diminution in the
weight had resulted from the large amount of loss in the
process of throwing.  Hence there has arisen a system,
called " working on cost," which requires the throwster
to send back to the dealer the same weight of silk which
6




120             THE MORALS OF TRADE.
he receives: the meaning of the phrase being, we presume,
that whatever waste the throwster makes must be at his
own cost. Now, as it is impossible to throw silk without
sowme waste-at least 3 per cent., and ordinarily 5 per cent.
— this arrangement necessitates a deception; if, indeed,
that can be called a deception which is tacitly understood
by all concerned. The silk has to be weighted. As much
as is lost in throwing, has to be made up by some foreign
substance introduced.  Soap is largely used for this. In
small quantity, soap is requisite to facilitate the running
of the threads in the process of manufacture; and the
quantity is readily increased. Sugar also is used. And
by one means or other, the threads are made to absorb
enough matter to produce the desired weight. To this
system all silk-throwsters are obliged to succumb; and
some of them carry it to a great extent, as a means of
hiding either carelessness or something worse.
The next stage through which silk passes, is that of
dyeing. Here, too, impositions have grown chronic and
general. In times past, as we learn from a ribbon-manufacturer, the weighting by water was the chief dishonesty;
bundles returned from the dyer's, if not manifestly damp,
still containing moisture enough to make up for a portion of
the silk that had been kept back. And precautions had to
be taken to escape losses thus entailed. Since then, however, there has arisen a method of deception which leaves
this far behind-that of employing heavy dyes. The following details have been given us by a silk-throwster. It
is now, he says, some five-and-thirty years since this
method was commenced.  Before that time, silk lost a
considerable part of its weight in the copper. It appears
that the ultimate fibre of silk is coated, in issuing from the
spinneret of the silk-worm, with a film of varnish that is
soluble in boiling water. In dyeing, therefore, this film,
amounting to 25 per cent. of the entire weight of the silk,




FRAUDS IN THE SILK BUSINESS.            121
is dissolved off; and the silk is rendered that much lighter.
So that originally, for every sixteen ounces of silk sent to
the dyer's, only twelve ounces were returned. Gradually,
however, by the use of heavy dyes, this result has been
reversed. The silk now gains in weight; and sometimes
to a scarcely credible extent. According to the requirement, silk is sent back from the dyer's of any weight from
twelve ounces to the pound, up to forty ounces to the
pound. The original pound of silk, instead of losing four
ounces, as it naturally would, is actually, when certain
black dyes are used, made to gain as much as twenty-four
ounces! Instead of 25 per cent. lighter, it is returned 150
per cent. heavier-is weighted with 175 per cent. of foreign matter! Now as, during this stage of its manufacture, the transactions in silk are carried on by weight, it
is manifest that in the introduction and development of
this system, we have a long history of frauds. At present
all in the trade are aware of it, and on their guard against
it. Like other modes of adulteration, in becoming established and universal, it has ceased to be profitable to any
one. But it still serves to indicate the morals of those
concerned.
The thrown and dyed silk passes into the hands of the
weaver; and here again we come upon  dishonesties.
Manufacturers of figured silks, sin against their fellows by
stealing their patterns. The laws that have been found
necessary to prevent this species of piracy, show that it
has been carried to a great extent. Even now it is not
prevented.  One who has himself suffered from it, tells us
that manufacturers still get each other's designs by bribing
the workmen. In their dealings with " buyers," too, some
manufacturers resort to deceptions: perhaps tempted to
do so by the desire to compensate themselves for the heavy
tax paid in treating, etc. Certain goods that have already
been seen and declined by other buyers, are brought before




L22             THE MORALS OF rmABE.
a subsequent one with artfully-devised appearances of
secrecy; accompanied by professions that these goods
have been specially reserved for his inspection: a manceuvre by which an unwary man is sometimes betrayed.
That the process of production has its delusions, scarcely
needs saying. In the ribbon-trade, for example, there is a
practice called "top-ending;" that is, making the first
three yards good, and the rest (which is covered when
rolled up) of bad or loose texture-80 "shutes" to the
inch instead of 108. And then there comes the issuing of
imitations made of inferior materials-textile adulterations
as we may call them.  This practice of debasement, not
an occasional but an established one, is carried to a sur.
prising extent; and with surprising rapidity.  Some new
fabric, first sold at 7s. 6d. per yard, is supplanted by successive counterfeits; until at the end of eighteen months
a semblance of it is selling at 4U. 3d. per yard. Nay, still
greater depreciations of quality and price take placefrom 10s. down to 3s., and even 2s. per yard. Until at
length the badness of these spurious fabrics becomes so
conspicuous, that they are unsaleable; and there ensues a
reaction, ending either in the reintroduction of the original fabric, or in the production of some novelty to supply
its place.
Among our notes of mal-practices in trade, retail,
wholesale, and manufacturing, we have many others that
must be passed over. We cannot here enlarge on the not
uncommon trick of using false trade-marks; or imitating
another maker's wrappers; and so deluding purchasers.
We must be satisfied with simply referring to the doings
of apparently-reputable houses, which purchase goods
known to be dishonestly obtained. And we are obliged
to refrain from particularizing certain established arrangements, existing under cover of the highest respectability,




MEN FORCED INTO DISHONESTY.           123
which seem intended to facilitate these nefarious transactions. The frauds we have detailed are but samples of a
state of things which it would take a volume to describe
in full.
The further instances of trading-immorality which it
seems desirable here to give, are those which carry with
them a certain excuse; showing as they do how insensibly,
and almost irresistibly, men are thrust into vicious practices.  Always, no doubt, some utterly unconscientious
trader is the first to introduce a new form of fraud. He
is by-and-by followed by others who wear their moral
codes but loosely. The more upright traders are continually tempted to adopt this questionable device which those
around them are adopting. The greater the number who
yield, and the more general and familiar the device becomes, the more difficult is it for the remainder to stand
out against it. The pressure of competition upon them,
becomes more and more severe. They have to fight an
unequal battle: debarred as they are from  one of the
sources of profit which their antagonists possess. And
they are finally almost compelled to follow the lead of the
rest. Take for example what has happened in the candletrade. As all know, the commoner kinds of candles are
sold in bunches, supposed to weigh a pound each. Originally, the nominal weight corresponded with the real
weight. But at present the weight is habitually short,
by an amount varying from half an ounce to two ounces
-is sometimes depreciated 12-2- per cent.
If, now, an honest chandler offers to supply a retailer
at, say six shillings for the dozen pounds, the answer he
receives is —" Oh, we get them for five-and-eightpence."
"But mine," replies the chandler, "are of full weight;
while those you buy at five-and-eightpence are not."
" What does that matter to me?" the retailer rejoins-" a
pound of candles is a pound of candles: my customers




124            THE MORALS OF TBADE.
buy them in the bunch, and won't know the difference
between yours and another's." And the honest chandler,
being everywhere met with this argument, finds that he
must either make his pounds of short weight, or give up
business. Take another case, which, like the last, we have
direct from the mouth of one who has been obliged to
succumb. It is that of a manufacturer of the elastic webbing, now extensively used in making boots, etc. From a
London house with which he dealt largely, this manufacturer recently received a sample of webbing produced by
some one else, accompanied by the question, " Can you
make us this at  ~ per yard?" (naming a price below
that at which he had before supplied them); and hinting
that if he could not do so, they must go elsewhere. On
pulling to pieces the sample (which he showed to us), this
manufacturer found that sundry of the threads which
should have been of silk were of cotton. Indicating this
fact to those who sent him the sample, he replied that if
he made a like substitution, he could furnish the fabric at
the price named; and the result was that he eventually
did t-hus furnish it. Ile saw that if he did not do so, he
must lose a considerable share of his trade. IHe saw further, that if he did not at once yield, he would have to
yield in the end; for that other elastic-webbing-makers
wovJl one after another engage to produce this adulterated
fabric at correspondingly diminished prices; and that
when at length he stood alone in selling an apparently
sirmiar article at a higher price, his business would leave
him.  This manufacturer we have the best reason for
kncwing to be a man of fine moral nature, both generous
and upright; and yet we here see him obliged, in a sense,
to implicate himself in one of these processes of vitiation.
It is a startling assertion, but it is none the less a true
onr, that those who resist these corruptions, often do it at
thre risk of bankruptcy: sometimes the certainty of bank



HONESTY THE ROAD TO BANKRUPTCY.          125
ruptcy. We do not say this simply as a manifest infer
ence from the conditions, as above described; we say it
on the warrant of instances that have been given to us.
From one brought up in his house, we have had the history of a draper, who, carrying his conscience into his
shop, refused to commit the current frauds of the trade.
Ile would not represent his goods as of better quality
than they really were; he would not say that patterns
were just out, when they had been issued the previous
season; he would not warrant to wash well, colours which
he knew to be fugitive. Refraining from these and the
like mal-practices of his competitors; and, as a consequence, daily failing to sell various articles which his competitors would have sold by force of lying; his business
was so unremunerative that he twice became bankrupt.
And in the opinion of our informant, he inflicted more
evil upon others by his bankruptcies, than he would have
done by committing the usual trade-dishonesties.
See, then, how complicated the question becomes; and
how difficult to estimate the trader's criminality. Often
-generally indeed-he has to choose between two wrongs.
He has tried to carry on his business with strict integrity.
IHe has sold none but genuine articles; and has given full
measure. Others in the same business adulterate or otherwise delude; and are so able to undersell him. His
customers, not adequately appreciating the superiority in
the quality or quantity of his goods, and attracted by
the apparent cheapness at other shops, desert him. An
inspection of his books proves the alarming fact, that his
diminishing returns will soon be insufficient to meet his
engagements, and provide for his increasing family. What
then must he do?  Must he continue his present course;
stop payment; inflict heavy losses on his creditors; and
with his wife and children turn out into the streets? Or
must he follow the example of his competitors; use their




126              THE MORALS OF TRADE.
artifices; and give his customers the same apparent advan.
tages?  The last not only seems the least detrimental to
himself, but also may be considered the least detrimental
to others.  MToreover, the like is done by men regarded as
respectable.  Why should he ruin himself and family in
trying to be better than his neighbours?  lie will do as
they do.
Such is the position of the trader; such is the reasoning by which he justifies himself; and it is hard to visit
him with any thing like harsh condemnation.' Of course
this statement of his case is by no means universally true.
There are businesses in which, competition being less active, the excuse for falling into corrupt practices does not
hold; and here, indeed, we find corrupt practices much
less prevalent.  Many traders, too, have obtained connections which secure to them adequate returns without descending to small rogueries; and they have no defence if
they thus degrade themselves.  Moreover, there are the
men-commonly not prompted by necessity, but by greed
-who introduce these adulterations and petty frauds; and
on these should descend unmitigated indignation: both as
being themselves criminals without excuse, and as causing
criminality in others.  Leaving out, however, these comparatively small classes, we think that most traders by
whom all the commoner businesses are carried on, must
receive a much more qualified censure than they at first
sight seem  to deserve: forced to give way, as they are,
by the alternative of ruin.  On all sides we have met with
the same conviction, that for those engaged in the ordinary trades, there are but two courses-either to adopt
the practices of their competitors, or to give up business.
Men in different occupations and in different places-men
naturally conscientious, who manifestly chafed under the
degradations the; submitted to, have one and all expressed
to us the sad belief, that it is impossible to carry on trade




CONSCIENCE A BARRIER TO SUCCESS.         127
with strict rectitude. Their concurrent opinion, independently given by each, is, that the scrupulously honest man
must go the wall.
But that it has been during the past year frequently
treated by the daily press, we might here enter at some
length on the topic of banking-delinquencies. As it is,
we may presume all to be familiar with the facts; and
shall limit ourselves to making a few comments.
In the opinion of one whose means of judging have
been second to those of few, the directors of joint-stock
banks have rarely been guilty of direct dishonesty. Admitting notorious exceptions, the general fact appears to
be, that directors have had no immediate interests in furthering these speculations which have proved so ruinous
to depositors and shareholders; but have usually been
among the greatest sufferers. Their fault has rather been
the less flagitious, though still grave fault, of indifference
to their responsibilities. Often with very inadequate
knowledge, they have undertaken to trade with a vast
amount of property belonging in great part to needy people. Instead of using as much care in the investment of
this property as though it were their own, many of them
have shown culpable recklessness: either themselves loaning capital without adequate guarantee, or else passively
allowing their colleagues to do this. Sundry excuses may
doubtless be made for them. The well-known defects of
a corporate conscience, caused by divided responsibility,
must be remembered in mitigation. And it may also be
pleaded for such delinquents, that if shareholders, swayed
by reverence for mere wealth and position, choose as directors, not the most intelligent, the most experienced,
and those of longest-tried probity, but those of largest
capital or highest rank, the blame must not be cast solely
an the men so chosen; but must be shared by the men




l28            THE MORALS OF TRADE.
who choose them: and further, must fall on the public as
well as on shareholders; seeing that this unwise selection
of directors is in part determined by the known bias of
depositors.
But after all allowances have been made, it must be
admitted that these bank-administrators who risk the
property of their clients by loaning it to speculators, are
near akin in morality to the speculators themselves. As
these speculators risk other men's money in undertakings
which they hope will be profitable; so do the directors
who lend them the money. If these last plead that the
money thus lent, is lent with the belief that it will be
repaid with good interest; the first may similarly plead
that they expected their investment to return the borrowed capital along with a handsome profit. In each case
the transaction is one of which the evil consequences, if
they come, fall more largely on others than on the actors.
And though it may be contended, on behalf of the director, that what he does is done chiefly for the benefit of his
constituents, whereas the speculator has in view only his
own benefit; it may be replied that the director's blameworthiness is not the less because he took a rash step with
a comparatively weak motive. The truth is, that when a
bank-director lends the capital of shareholders to those to
whom he would not lend his own capital, he is guilty of a
breach of trust. In tracing the gradations of crime, we
pass from direct robbery to robbery one, two, three, or
more degrees removed. Though a man who speculates
with other people's money, is not chargeable with direct
robbery, he is chargeable with robbery one degree removed: he deliberately stakes his neighbour's property,
intending to appropriate the gain, if any, and to let his
neighbour suffer the loss, if any: his crime is that of contingent robbery. And hence any one who, standing like
a bank-director in the position of trustee, puts the money




ACCOMMODATION-BILLS CHARACTERIZED.        129
with which he is entrusted into a speculator's hands, must
be called an accessory to contingent robbery.
If so grave a condemnation is to be passed on those
who lend trust-money to speculators, as well as on the
speculators who borrow it, what shall we say of the still
more delinquent class who obtain loans by fraud-who not
only pawn other men's property when obtained, but obtain it under false pretences?  For how else than thus
must we describe the doings of those who raise money by
accommodation-bills? When A and B agree, the one to
draw and the other to accept a bill of ~1,000 for "value
received;" while in truth there has been no sale of goods
between them, or no value received; the transaction is
not simply an embodied lie, but it becomes thereafter a
living and active lie. Whoever discounts the bill, does so
in the belief that B, having become possessed of ~1,000
worth of goods, will, when the bill falls due, have either
the ~1,000 worth of goods or some equivalent, with which
to meet it. Did he know that there were no such goods
in the hands of either A or B, and no other property available for liquidating the bill, he would not discount it-he
would not lend money to a man of straw without security.
The case is intrinsically the same as though A had
taken to the bank a forged mortgage-deed, and obtained
a loan upon it. Practically an accommodation-bill is a
forgery. It is an error to suppose that forgery is limited
to the production of documents that are physically falsethat contain signatures or other symbols which are not
what they appear to be: forgery, properly understood,
qaually includes the production of documents that are
morally false. What constitutes the crime committed in
forging a bank-note? Not the mere mechanical imitation.
This is but a means to the end; and, taken alone, is no
crime at all. The crime consists in deluding others into
the acceptance of what seems to be a representative of so




[30             THE MORALS OF TRADE.
much money, but which actually represents nothing. It
matters not whether the delusion is effected by copying
the forms of the letters and figures, as in a forged bank
note, or by copying the form of expression, as in an accommodation-bill.  In either case a semblance of value is
given to that which has no value; and it is in giving this
false appearance of value that the crime consists. It is
true that generally, the acceptor of an accommodation.
bill hopes to be able to meet it when due. But if those
who think this exonerates him, will remember the many
cases in which, by the use of forged documents, men have
obtained possession of moneys which they hoped presently
to replace, and were nevertheless judged guilty of forgery;
they will see that the plea is insufficient.
WVe contend, then, that the manufacturers of accommodation-bills should be classed as forgers. Whether, if the
law so classed them, much good would result, we are not
prepared to say. Several questions present themselves:Whether such a change would cause inconvenience, by
negativing the many harmless transactions carried on under this fictitious form by solvent men? Whether making
it penal to use the words " value received," unless there
iced been valued received, would not simply originate an
additional class of bills in which these words were
omitted?  Whether it would be an advantage if bills
bore on their faces, proofs that they did or did not repre.
sent actual sales?  Whether a restraint on undue credit
would not result, when bankers and discounters saw that
certain bills coming to them in the names of speculative
or unsubstantial traders, were avowed accommodationbills? But these are questions we need not go out of our
way to discuss. We are here concerned only with the
morality of the question.
Duly to estimate the greatness of the evils indicated,
however, we must bear i mind both that the fraudulent




THE TRAIN OF EVIL CONSEQUENCES.             131
transactions thus entered into are numerous, and that each
generally becomes the cause of many others.  The original lie is commonly the parent of further lies, which again
give rise to an increasing progeny; and so on for successive generations, multiplying as they descend.  When A
and B find their ~1,000 bill about to fall due, and the expected proceeds of their speculation not forthcomingwhen they find, as they often do, either that the investment has resulted in a loss instead of a gain; or that the
time for realizing their hoped-for profits, has not yet come;
or that the profits, if there are any, do not cover the extravagances of living which, in the mean time, they have
sanguinely indulged in-when, in short, they find that the
bill cannot be taken up; they resort to the expedient of
manufacturing other bills with which to liquidate the first.
And while they are about it, they usually think it will be
as well to raise a somewhat larger sum than is required to
meet their out-standing engagements.  Unless it happens
that great success enables them to redeem themselves, this
proceeding is repeated, and again repeated.  So long as
there is no momentary crisis, it continues easy thus to
keep afloat; and, indeed, the appearance of prosperity
which is given by an extended circulation of bills in their
names, bearing respectable indorsements, creates a confidence in them  which renders the obtainment of credit
easier than at first.
And where, as in some cases, this process is carried to
the extent of employing men in different towns throughout the kingdom, and even in distant parts of the world,
to accept bills, the appearances are still better kept up,
and the bubble reaches a still greater development.  As,
however, all these  transactions  are carried  on with
borrowed capital, on which interest has to be paid; as,
further, the maintenance of this organized fraud entails
constant expenses, as well as occasional sacrifices; and




132             THE MORALS OF TRADE.
as it is in the very nature of the system to generate reck.
less speculation, the fabric of lies is almost certain ulti.
mately to fall; and, in falling, to ruin or embarrass many
others besides those who had given credit.
Nor does the evil end with the direct penalties from
time to time inflicted on honest traders. There is also a
grave indirect penalty which they suffer from the system.
These forgers of credit are habitually instrumental in lowering prices below their natural level. To meet emergencies, they are obliged every now and then to sell goods at
a loss: the alternative being immediate stoppage. Though
with each such concern, this is but an occasional occurrence, yet, taking the whole number of them  connected
with any one business, it results that there are at all times
some who are making sacrifices-at all times some who
are unnaturally depressing the market.  In short, the
capital fraudulently obtained from  some traders, is, in
part, dissipated in rendering the business of other traders
deficiently remunerative: often to their serious embarrassment.
If, however, the whole truth must be said, the condemnation visited on these commercial vampires is not to be
confined wholly to them; but is in some degree deserved
by a much more numerous class. Between the penniless
schemer who obtains the use of capital by false pretences,
and the upright trader who never contracts greater liabilities than his estate will liquidate, there lie all gradations.
From  businesses carried on entirely with other people's
capital obtained by forgery, we pass to businesses in
which there is a real capital of one-tenth, and a credit
capital of nine-tenths; to other businesses in which the
ratio of real to fictitious capital is somewhat greater; and
so on until we reach the very extensive class of men who
trade but a little beyond their means. By insensible steps
we advance from  the one extreme to the other; and




GRADATIONS OF DISONESTY.             133
these most venial transgressors cannot be wholly absolved from the criminality which so clearly attaches to
the rest.
To get more credit than would be given were the
state of the business fully known, is in all cases the aim;
and the cases in which this credit is partially unwarranted,
differ only in degree from those in which it is wholly unwarranted. As most are beginning to see, the prevalence
of this indirect dishonesty has not a little to do with our
commercial disasters. Speaking broadly, the tendency is
for every trader to hypothecate the capital of other traders, as well as his own. And when A has borrowed on
the strength of B's credit; B on the strength of C's; and
C on the strength of A's-when, throughout the trading
world, each has made engagements which he can meet
only by direct or indirect aid-when everybody is wanting help from some one else, to save him from falling; a
crash is certain. The punishment of a general unconscientiousness may be postponed; but it is sure to come
eventually.
The average commercial morality cannot, of course,
be accurately depicted in so brief a space. On the one
hand, we have been able to give but a few typical instances of the mal-practices by which trade is disgraced.
On the other hand, we have been obliged to present these
alone; unqualified by the large amount of honest dealing
throughout which they are dispersed. While, by accumulating such evidences, the indictment might be made much
heavier; by diluting them  with the immense mass of
equitable transactions daily carried on, the verdict would
be greatly mitigated. After making all allowances, however, we fear that the state of things is very bad. And
our impression on this point is due less to the particu.
lar facts above given, than to the general opinion ex




i34             THE MORALS OF TRADE.
pressed by our informants.  On all sides we have found
the result of long personal experience, to  be the conviction that trade is essentially corrupt. In tones of disgust or discouragement, reprehension or derision, according to their several natures, men in business have one
after another expressed or implied this belief. Omitting
the highest mercantile classes, a few of the iess common
trades, and those exceptional cases where an entire command of the market has been obtained, the uniform testimony of competent judges is, that success is incompatible
with strict integrity. To live in the commercial world it
appears necessary to adopt its ethical code: neither exceeding nor falling short of it-neither being less honest
nor more honest. Those who sink below its standard are
expelled; while those who rise above it are either pulled
down to it or ruined. As, in self-defence, the civilized
man becomes savage among savages; so, it seems that in
self-defence, the scrupulous trader is obliged to become as
little scrupulous as his competitors. It has been said that
the law of the animal creation is-" Eat and be eaten;"
and of our trading community it may be similarly said
that its law is-Cheat and be cheated. A system of keen
competition, carried on, as it is, without adequate moral
restraint, is very much a system of commercial cannibalism. Its alternatives are-Use the same weapons as your
antagonists, or be conquered and devoured.
Of questions suggested by these facts, one of the most
obvious is-Are not the prejudices that have ever been
entertained against trade and traders, thus fully justified?
do not these meannesses and dishonesties, and the moral
degradation they imply, warrant the disrespect shown to
men in business?  A  prompt affirmative answer will
probably be looked for; but we very much doubt whether
it should be given. We are rather of opinion that these
delinquencics are products of the average English charac




THE TRADERS RECRIMINATIONS.              135
ter placed under special conditions.  There is no good
reason for assuming that the trading classes are intrinsically worse than other classes.  lMen taken at random from
higher and lower ranks, would, most likely, if similarly
circumstanced, do much the same.  Indeed the mercantile
world might readily recriminate.  Is it a solicitor who
comments on their misdoings?  They may quickly silence
him by referring to the countless dark stains on the reputation of his fraternity.  Is it a barrister?  His frequent
practice of putting in pleas which he knows are not valid;
and his established habit of taking fees for work that he
ioes not perform; make his criticism somewhat suicidal.
Does the condemnation come through the press? The condemned may remind those who write, of the fact that it is
not quite honest to utter a positive verdict on a book
merely glanced through, or to pen-glowing eulogies on the
mediocre work of a friend while slighting the good one of
an enemy; and may further ask whether those who, at
the dictation of an employer, write what they disbelieve,
are not guilty of the serious offence of adulterating public
opinion.
Moreover, traders might contend that many of their
delinquencies are thrust on them by the injustice of their
customers.  They, and especially drapers, might point to
the fact that the habitual demand for an abatement of
price, is made in utter disregard of their reasonable profits;
and that to protect themselves against attempts to gain
by their loss, they are obliged to name prices greater than
those they intend to take. They might also urge that the
strait to which they are often brought by the non-payment of accounts due from  their wealthier customers, is
itself a cause of their mal-practices: obliging them, as it
does, to use all means, illegitimate as well as legitimate,
for getting the wherewith to meet their engagements.  In
proof of the wrongs inflicted on them by the non-trading




136             THE MORALS OF TRADE.
classes, they might instance the well-known cases of large
shopkeepers in the West-end, who have been either ruined
by the unpunctuality of their customers, or have been
obliged periodically to stop payment, as the only way of
getting their bills settled. And then, after proving that
those without excuse show this disregard of other men's
claims, traders might ask whether they, who have the
excuse of having to contend with a merciless competition,
are alone to be blamed if they display a like disregard in
other forms.
Nay, even to the guardians of social rectitude-members of the legislature-they might use the tu quoqtue
argument: asking whether bribery of a customer's servant, is any worse than bribery of an elector? or whether
the gaining of suffrages by clap-trap hustings-speeches,
containing insincere professions adapted to the taste of
the constituency, is not as bad as getting an order for
goods by delusive representations respecting their quality'?
No; it seems probable that close inquiry would show few
if any classes to be free from  immoralities that are as
great, relatively to the templtations, as these which we
have been exposing. Of course they will not be so petty
or so gross where the circumstances do not prompt petti
ness or grossness; nor so constant and organized where
the class-conditions have not tended to make them habitual. But, taken with these qualifications, we think that
much might be said for the proposition that the trading
classes, neither better nor worse intrinsically than other
classes, are betrayed into their flagitious habits by external causes.
Another question, here naturally arising, is-Are not
these evils growing worse? lMany of the facts we have
cited seem  to imply that they are. And yet there are
many other facts which point as distinctly the other
way. In weighing the evidence, we must bear in mind(




ARE MATTERS GROWING WORSE?              137
liat the much greater public attention at present paid to
such matters, is itself a source of error-is apt to generate
the belief that evils now becoming recognized, are evils
that have recently arisen; when in truth they have merely
been hitherto disregarded, or less regarded. It has been
clearly thus with crime, with distress, with popular ignorance; and it is very probably thus with trading-dishonesties. As it is true of individual beings, that their height
in the scale of creation may be measured by the degree of
their self-consciousness; so, in a sense, it is true of societies.
Advanced and highly-organized societies are distinguished
from lower ones by the evolution of something that stands
for a social self-consciousness-a consciousness in each
citizen, of the state of the aggregate of citizens. Among
ourselves there has, happily, been of late years a remarkable growth of this social self-consciousness; and we believe
that to this is chiefly ascribable the impression, that corm
mercial mal-practices are increasing.
Such facts as have come down to us respecting the
trade of past times, confirm this view. In his " Complete
English Tradesman," Defoe mentions, among other man
ceuvres of retailers, the false lights which they introduced
into their shops, for the purpose of giving delusive appearances to their goods. He comments on the " shop rhetorick," the " flux of falsehoods," which tradesmen habitually
uttered to their customers; and quotes their defence as
being that they could not live without lying. He says,
too, that there was scarce a shopkeeper who had not a
bag of spurious or debased coin, from  which he gave
change whenever he could; and that men, even the most
honest, triumphed in their skill in getting rid of bad
money. These facts show that the mercantile morals of
that day were, at any rate, not better than ours; and it
we call to mind the numerous Acts of Parliament passed
in old times to prevent frauds of all kinds, we perceive




t38            THE MORALS OF tRADE.
the like implication. As much may, indeed, be safely in
ferred from the general state of society.
When, reign after reign, governments debased the
coinage, the moral tone of the middle classes could scarcely
have been higher than now. Anlong generations whose
sympathy with the claims of fellow -creatures was so weak,
that the slave-trade was not only thought justifiable, but
the initiator of it was rewarded by permission to record
the feat in his coat of arms; it is hardly possible that men
respected the claims of their fellow-citizens more than at
present. Times characterized by an administration of justice so inefficient, that there were in London nests of
criminals who defied the law, and on all high roads robbers who eluded it, cannot have been distinguished by
just mercantile dealings.  While, conversely, an age
which, like ours, has seen so many equitable social
changes thrust on the legislature by public opinion, is
very unlikely to be an age in which the transactions
between individuals have been growing more inequitable.
Yet, on the other hand, it is undeniable that many of the
dishonesties we have described are of modern origin.
Not a few  of them  have become established during
the last thirty years; and others are even now  arising. How are the seening contradictions to be reconciled?
We believe the reconciliation is not difficult. It lies
in the fact that while the great and direct frauds have
been diminishing, the small and indirect frauds have been
increasing: alike in variety and in number.  And this
admission we take to be quite consistent with the opinion
that the standard of commercial morals is higher than it
was. For, if we omit, as excluded from the question, the
penal restraints-religious and legal-and ask what is the
ultimate moral restraint to the aggression of man on man;
we find it to be-sympathy witl the pain inflicted. Now




COUNTER-TENDENCIES.               139
the keenness of the sympathy, depending on the vividness
with which this pain is realized, varies with the conditions
of the case. It may be active enough to check misdeeds
which will cause great suffering; and yet not be active
enough to check misdeeds which will cause but slight
annoyance.  While sufficiently acute to prevent a man
flom doing that which will entail immediate injury on a
given person; it may not be sufficiently acute to prevent
him from doing that which will entail remote injuries on
unknown persons. And we find the facts to agree with
this deduction, that the moral restraint varies according
to the clearness with which the evil consequences are conceived. Many a one who would shrink from  picking a
pocket does not scruple to adulterate his goods; and he
who never dreams of passing base coin, will yet be a party
to joint-stock-bank deceptions. Hence, as we say, the
multiplication of the more subtle and complex forms of
fraud, is consistent with a general progress in morality;
provided it is accompanied with a decrease in the grosser
forms of fraud.
But the question which most concerns us is, not whether
the morals of trade are better or worse than they have
been? but rather-why are they so bad?  Why in this
civilized state of ours, is there so much that betrays the
cunning selfishness of the savage? Why, after the careful inculcations of rectitude during education, comes there
in after-life all this knavery? Why, in spite of all the
exhortations to which the commercial classes listen every
Sunday, do they next morning recommence their evil
deeds?  What is this so potent agency which almost
neutralizes the discipline of education, of law, of re-.igion?
Various subsidiary causes that might be assigned,
must be passed over, that we may have space to deal with




14:0            THE MORALS OF TRADE.
the chief cause. In an exhaustive statement, something
would have to be said on the credulity of consumers,
which leads them to believe in representations of impossible advantages; and something, too, on their greediness,
which, ever prompting them to look for more than they
ought to get, encourages the sellers to offer delusive bar
gains. The increased difficulty of living consequent on
growing pressure of population, might perhaps come in ~s
a part cause; and that greater cost of bringing up a family,
which results from the higher standard of education, might
be added. But all these are relatively insignificant.  The
great inciter of these trading mal-practices is, intense desire for wealth. And if we ask — hy this intense desire?
the reply is-It results from  the indiscriminate respect
paid to wealth.\
To be distinguished from the common herd-to be
somebody-to make a name, a position-this is the universal ambition; and to accumulate riches, is alike the surest
and the easiest way of fulfilling this ambition\ Very early
in life all learn this.'At school, the court paid to one
whose parents have called in their carriage to see him, is
conspicuous; while the poor boy, whose insufficient stock
of clothes implies the small means of his family, soon has
burnt into his memory the fact that poverty is contemptible.' On entering the world, the lessons that may have
been taught about the nobility of self-sacrifice, the reverence due to genius, the admirableness of high integrity,
are quickly neutralized by experience: men's actions proving that these are not their standards of respect. It is
soon perceived that while abundant outward marks of
deference from  fellow-citizens, may almost certainly be
gained by directing every energy to the accumulation of
property, they are but rarely to be gained in any other
way; and that even in the few cases where they are otherwise gained, they are not given with entire unreserve; bil




TRUE CAUSE OF THE EVIL.                 141
are commonly joined with a more or less manifest display
of patronage.  When, seeing this, the young man further
sees that while the acquisition of property is quite possible with his mediocre endowments, the acquirement of
distinction by brilliant discoveries, or heroic acts, or high
achievements in art, implies faculties and feelings which
lie does not possess; it is not difficult to understand why
lie devotes himself heart and soul to business.
We do not mean to say that men act on the consciously
reasoned-out conclusions thus indicated; but we mean
that these conclusions are the unconsciously-formed prod.
ucts of their daily experience.   From  early childhood,
the sayings and doings of all around them have generated
the idea, that wealth and respectability are two sides of
the same thing.">, This idea, growing with their growth,
and strengthening with their strength, becomes at last
almost what we may call an organic conviction.  And
this organic conviction it is, which prompts, the expenditure of all their energies in money-making.  We contend
that the chief stimulus is not the desire for the wealth
itself; but for the applause and position which the wealth
brings.  And in this belief, we find ourselves at one with
various intelligent traders with whom we have talked on
the matter.
It is incredible that men should make the sacrifices,
mental and bodily, which they do, merely to get the
material benefits which money purchases.  Who would
undertake an extra burden of business for the purpose of
getting a cellar of choice wines for his own drinking?
lie who does it, does it that he may have choice wines to
give his guests and gain their praises.  What merchant
would spend an additional hour at his office daily, merely
that he might move into a larger house in a better quarter? In so far as health and comfort are concerned, he
knows he will be a loser by the exchange; andt would




142             THE MORALS OF TRADE.
never be induced to make it, were it not for the increased
social consideration which the new house will bring him.
Where is the man who would lie awake at nights devising means of increasing his income, in the hope of being
able to provide his wife with a carriage, were the use of
the carriage the sole consideration? It is because of the
eclat which the carriage will give, that he enters on these
additional anxieties..So manifest, so trite, indeed, are
these truths, that we should be ashamed of insisting on
them, did not our argument require it.
For if the desire for that homage which wealth brings,
is the chief stimulus to these strivings after wealth; then
is the giving of this homage (when given, as it is, with
but little discrimination) the chief cause of the dishonesties
into which these strivings betray mercantile men. When
the shopkeeper, on the strength of a prosperous year and
favourable prospects, has yielded to his wife's persuasions,
and replaced the old furniture with new, at an outlay
greater than his income covers-when, instead of the
hoped-for increase, the next year brings a decrease in his
returns-when he finds that his expenses are out-running
his revenue; then does he fall under the strongest temptation to adopt some newly-introduced adulteration or other
mal-practice. When, having by display gained a certain
recognition, the wholesale trader begins to give dinners
appropriate only to those of ten times his income, with
other expensive entertainments to match-when, having
for a time carried on this style at a cost greater than he
can afford, he finds that he cannot discontinue it without
giving up his position: then is he most strongly prompted
to enter into larger transactions; to trade beyond his
means; to seek undue credit; to get into that ever-com.
plicating series of misdeeds, which ends in disgracefulbankruptcy. And if these are the facts-the undeniable
facts-then is it an unavoidable conclusion that the blind




THE BLIND HOMAGE TO WEALTH.            143
admiration which society gives to mere wealth, and the
display of wealth, is the chief source of these multitudinous immoralities.
Yes, the evil is deeper than appears-draws its nutriment from far below the surface. This gigantic system
of dishonesty, branching out into every conceivable form
of fraud, has roots that run underneath our whole social
fabric, and, sending fibres into every house, suck up
strength from our daily sayings and doings. In every
dining-room a rootlet finds food, when the conversation
turns on So-and-so's successful speculations, his purchase
of an estate, his probable worth-on this man's recent
large legacy, and the other's advantageous match; for
being thus talked about is one form of that tacit respect
which men struggle for. Every drawing-room furnishes
nourishment, in the admiration awarded to costliness-to
silks that are "rich," that is, expensive; to dresses that
contain an enormous quantity of material, that is, are
expensive; to laces that are hand-made, that is, expensive; to diamonds that are rare, that is, expensive; to
china that is old, that is, expensive. And from scores of
small remarks and minutie of behaviour, which, in all
circles, hourly imply how completely the idea of respectability involves that of costly externals, there is drawn
fresh pabulum.
We are all implicated.  We all, whether with selfapprobation or not, give expression to the established
feeling. Even he who disapproves this feeling, finds himself unable to treat virtue in threadbare apparel with a
cordiality as great as that which he would show to the
same virtue endowed with prosperity. Scarcely a man is
to be found who would not behave with more civility to a
knave in broadcloth than to a knave in fustian. Though
for the deference which they have shown to the vulgar
rich, or the dishonestly successful, men afterwards comr
7




144            THE MORALS OF TRADE.
pound with their consciences by privately venting their
contempt; yet when they again come face to face with
these imposing externals covering worthlessness, they do
as before. And so long as imposing worthlessness gets
the visible marks of respect, while the disrespect felt for
it is hidden, it naturally flourishes.
Hence, then, is it that men persevere in these evil
practices which all condemn.  They can so purchase a
homage, which if not genuine, is yet, so far as appearances
go, as good as the best. To one whose wealth has been
gained by a life of frauds, what matters it that his name
is in all circles a synonym of roguery? Has he not been
conspicuously honoured by being twice elected mayor of
his town? (we state a fact) and does not this, joined to
the personal consideration shown him, outweigh in his
estimation all that is said against him: of which he
hears scarcely any thing? When, not many years after
the exposure of his inequitable dealing, a trader attains to
the highest civic distinction which the kingdom has to
offer; and that, too, through the instrumentality of those
who best know his delinquency; is not the fact an encouragement to him, and to all others, to sacrifice rectitude
to aggrandizement? If, after listening to a sermon that
has by implication denounced the dishonesties he has been
guilty of, the rich ill-doer finds, on leaving church, that
his neighbours cap to him; does not this tacit approval
go far to neutralize the effect of all he has heard? The
truth is, that with the great majority of men, the visible
expression of social opinion is far the most efficient of incentives and restraints. Let any one who wishes to estimate the strength of this control, propose to himself to
walk through the streets in the dress of a dustman, or
hawk vegetables from door to door. Let him feel, as he
probably will, that he had rather do something morally
wrong than commit such a breach of usage, and suffer the




PUBLIC OPINION RESPONSIBLE.            145
resulting derision. And he will then better estimate how
powerful a curb to men is the open disapproval of their
fellows; and how, conversely, the outward applause of
their Iellows is a stimulus surpassing all others in intensity.
Fully realizing which facts, he will see that the immoralities of trade are in great part traceable to an immoral
public opinion.
Let none infer, from what has been said, that the payment of respect to wealth rightly acquired and rightly
used, is deprecated. In its original meaning, and in due
degree, the feeling which prompts such respect is good.
Primarily, wealth is the sign of mental power; and this
is always respectable. To have honestly-acquired property, implies intelligence, energy, self-control; and these
are worthy of the homage that is indirectly paid to them
by admiring their results. Moreover, the good administration and increase of inherited property, also requires
its virtues; and therefore demands its share of approbation. And besides being applauded for their display of
faculty, men who gain and increase wealth are to be applauded as public benefactors. For he who as manufacturer or merchant, has, without injustice to others, realized
a fortune, is thereby proved to have discharged his functions better than those who have been less successful.
By greater skill, better judgment, or more economy than
his competitors, he has afforded the public greater advantages. Iis extra profits are but a share of the extra produce obtained by the same expenditure: the other share
going to the consumers.\ And similarly, the landowner
who, by judicious outlay, has increased the value (that is,
the productiveness) of his estate, has thereby added to the
stock of national capital. By all means, then, let the right
acquisition and proper use of wealth, have their due share
of admiration.
But that which we condemn as the chief cause of com.




146            THE MORALS OF TRADE.
mercial dishonesty, is the indiscriminate admiration of
wealth-an admiration that has little or no reference to
the character of the possessor. When, as very generally
happens, the external signs are reverenced, where they
signify no internal worthiness-nay, even where they
cover internal unworthiness; then does the feeling become
vicious. It is this idolatry which worships the symbol
apart from the thing symbolized, that is the root of all
these evils we have been exposing. So long as men pay
homage to those social benefactors who have grown rich
honestly, they give a wholesome stimulus to industry; but
when they accord a share of their homage to those social
malefactors who have grown rich dishonestly, then do they
foster corruption-then do they become accomplices in all
these frauds of commerce.
As for remedy, it manifestly follows that there is none
save a purified public opinion. When that abhorrence
which society now shows to direct theft, is shown to theft
of all degrees of indirectness; then will these mercantile
vices disappear. When not only the trader who adulterates or gives short measure, but also the merchant who
overtrades, the bank-director who countenances an exaggerated report, and the railway-director who repudiates his guarantee, come to be regarded as of the same
genus as the pickpocket, and are treated with like disdain; then will the morals of trade become what they
should be.
We have little hope, however, that any such higher
tone of public opinion will shortly be reached. The present condition of things appears to be, in great measure, a
necessary accompaniment of our present phase of progress.
Throughout the civilized world, especially in England,
and above all in America, social activity is almost wholly
expended in material development. To subjugate Nature,




THE GREAT TASK OF THE AGE.           147
and bring the powers of production and distribution to
their highest perfection, is the task of our age; and probably of many future ages. And as in times when national
defence and conquest were the chief desiderata, military
achievement was honoured above all other things; so now,
when the chief desideratum is industrial growth, honour
is most conspicuously given to that which generally indicates the aiding of industrial growth. The English na
tion at present displays what we may call the commercial
diathesis; and the undue admiration for wealth appears
to be its concomitant-a relation still more conspicuous in
the worship of "the almighty dollar" by the Americans.
And while the commercial diathesis, with its accompanying standard of distinction, continues, we fear the evils we
have been delineating can be but partially cured. It
seems hopeless to expect that men will distinguish between that wealth which represents personal superiority
and benefits done to society, from that which does not.
The symbols, the externals, have all the world through
swayed the masses; and must long continue to do so.
Even the cultivated, who are on their guard against the
bias of associated ideas, and try to separate the real from
the seeming, cannot escape the influence of current opinion.
We must, therefore, content ourselves with looking for a
slow amelioration.
Something, however, may even now be done by vigorous protest against adoration of mere success. And it is
important that it should be done, considering how this
vicious sentiment is being fostered. When we have one
of our leading moralists preaching, with increasing vehenence, the doctrine of santification by force-when we are
told that while a selfishness troubled with qualms of conscience is contemptible, a selfishness intense enough to
trample down every thing in the unscrupulous pursuit of
its ends, is worthy of all admiration-when we find that




148            THE MORALS OF TRADE.
if it be sufliciently great, power, no matter of what kind
or how directed, is held up for our reverence; we may
fear lest the prevalent applause of mere success, together
with the commercial vices which it stimulates, should be
increased rather than diminished. Not at all by this heroworship grown into brute-worship, is society to be made
better; but by exactly the opposite-by a stern criticism
of the means through which success has been achieved;
and by according honour to the higher and less selfish
modes of activity.
And happily the signs of this more moral public opinion are already showing themselves. It is becoming a
tacitly-received doctrine that the rich should not, as in bygone times, spend their lives in personal gratification;
but should devote them to the general welfare. Year by
year is the improvement of the people occupying a larger
share of the attention of the upper classes. Year by year
are they voluntarily devoting more and more energy to furthering the material and mental progress of the masses.
And those among them who do not join in the discharge
of these high functions, are beginning to be looked upon
with more or less contempt by their own order.  This
latest and most hopeful fact in human history-this new
and better chivalry-promises to evolve a higher standard
of honour; and so to ameliorate many evils: among others
those which we have detailed. When wealth obtained
by illegitimate means inevitably brings nothing but disgrace-when to wealth rightly acquired is accorded only
its due share of homage, while the greatest homage is
given to those who consecrate their energies and their
means to the noblest ends; then may we be sure that
along with other accompanying benefits, the morals cf
trade will be greatly purified.




IV,
PERSONAL BEAUTY.
T is a commonly-expressed opinion that beauty of char
1  acter and beauty of aspect are unrelated.  I have
never been able to reconcile myself to this opinion. Indeed, even those who hold it do so in a very incomplete
sense; for it is observable that notwithstanding their
theory they continue to manifest surprise when they find a
mean deed committed by one of noble countenance-a fact
clearly implying that underneath their professed induction
lies a still living conviction at variance with it.
Whence this conviction? How is it that a belief in
the connection between worth and beauty primarily exists
in all? It cannot be innate. Must it not, then, be from
early experiences? And must it not be that in those who
continue to believe in this connection, spite of their reasonings, the early and wide experiences outweigh the later
and exceptional ones?
Avoiding, however, the metaphysics of the question,.et us consider it physiologically.
Those who do not admit the relationship between mental and facial beauty, usually remark that the true connection is between character and expression.  While they
doubt, or rather deny, that the permanent forms of thli




150                PERSONAL BEAUTY.
features are in any way indices of the forms of the mind,
they assert that the transitory forms of the features are
such indices. These positions are inconsistent. For is it
not clear that the transitory forms, by perpetual repetition, register themselves on the face, and produce permanent forms? Does not an habitual frown by-and-by leave
ine-faceable marks on the brow?  Is not a chronic scornfulness presently followed by a modified set in the angles
of the mouth?   Does not that compression of the lips
significant of great determination, often stereotype itself,
and so give a changed form to the lower part of the face?
And if there be any truth in the doctrine of hereditary
transmission, must there not be a tendency to the reappearance of these modifications as new types of feature in
the offspring?  In brief, may we not say that expression
is feature in the making; and that if expression means
something, the form  of feature produced by it means
something?
Possibly it will be urged, in reply, that changes of
expression affect only the muscles and skin of the face;
that the permanent marks they produce can extend but to
these; that, nevertheless, the beauty of a face is mainly
dependent upon the form  of its bony framework; that
hence, in this chief respect, there cannot take place such
modifications as those described; and that, therefore, the
relationship of aspect of character, while it may hold in
the details, does not hold in the generals.
The rejoinder is, that the framework of the face is
modified by modifications in the tissues which cover it.
It is an established doctrine in physiology, that throughout the skeleton the greater or less development of bones
is dependent on the greater or less development, that is,
on the exercise, of the attached muscles. Ience, permanent changes in the muscular adjustments of the face will
be followed by permanent changes in its osseous structure.




EXPRESSION OF FACIAL FEATURES.          151
Not to dwell in general statements, however, which
with most weigh but little, I will cite a few cases in which
the connection between organic ugliness and mental inferiority, and the converse connection between organic
beauty and comparative perfection of mind, are distinctly
traceable.
It will be admitted that the projecting jaw, characteristic of the lower human races, is a facial defect-is a trait
which no sculptor would give to an ideal bust. At the
same time, it is an ascertained fact that prominence of jaw
is associated in the mammalia generally with comparative
lack of intelligence. This relationship, it is true, does not
hold good uniformly. It is not a direct but an indirect
one; and is thus liable to be disturbed. Nevertheless, it
holds good among all the higher tribes; and on inquiry
we shall see why it must hold good. In conformity with
the great physiological law that organs develop in proportion as they are exercised, the jaws must be relatively
large where the demands made upon them are great; and
must diminish in size as their functions become less numerous and less onerous. Now, in all the lower classes of
animals the jaws are the sole organs of manipulation-are
used not only for mastication, but for seizing, carrying,
gnawing, and, indeed, for every thing save locomotion,
which is the solitary office performed by the limbs. Advancing upwards, we find that the fore-limbs begin to aid
the jaws, and gradually to relieve them of part of their
duties. Some creatures use them for burrowing; some,
as the felines, for striking; many, to keep steady the prey
they are tearing; and when we arrive at the quadrumana,
whose fore-limbs possess so complete a power of prehendion that objects can not only be seized, but carried and
pulled to pieces by them, we find that the jaws are used
for little else than to break down the food. Accompanying this series of changes, we see a double change in the




L52               PERSONAL BEAUTY.
form of the head. The increased complexity of the limbs,
the greater variety of actions they perform, and the more
numerous perceptions they give, imply a greater development of the brain and of its bony envelope. At the same
time, the size of the jaws has diminished in correspondence with the diminution of their functions. And by this
simultaneous protrusion of the upper part of the cranium
and recession of its lower part, what is called the facial
angle has increased.
Well, these coordinate changes in functions and forms
have continued during the civilization of the human race.
On contrasting the European and the Papuan, we see that
what the one cuts in two with knife and fork, the other
tears with his jaws; what the one softens by cooking, tLe
other eats in its hard, raw state; the bones which the one
utilizes by stewing, the other gnaws; and for sundry of
the mechanical manipulations which the one has tools for,
the other uses his teeth. From the Bushman state upwards, there has been a gradual increase in the complexity of our appliances. We not only use our hands to save
our jaws, but we make implements to save our hands; and
in our engine factories may be found implements for the
making of implements. This progression in the arts of
life has had intellectual progression for its necessary correlative.  Each new complication requires a new increment of intelligence for its production; and the daily use
of it developes the intelligence of all still further. Thus
that simultaneous protrusion of the brain and recession of
the jaws, which among lower animals has accompanied increase of skill and sagacity, has continued during the advance of Humanity from barbarism to civilization; and
has been throughout, the result of a discipline involving
increase of mental power. And so it becomes manifest
that there exists an organic relationship between that protuberance of the jaws which we consider uCly, and a cer.
tain inferiority of nature.




DEFECTS OF FACIAL FEATURES.           153
Again, that lateral jutting-out of the cheek-bones,
which similarly characterizes the lower races of men, and
which is similarly thought by us a detraction from beauty,
is similarly related to lower habits and lower intelligence.
The jaws are closed by the temporal muscles; and these
are consequently the chief active agents in biting and
mastication. In proportion as the jaws have much work,
and correspondingly large size, must the temporal muscles
be massive. But the temporal muscles pass between the
skull and the zygomatic arches, or lateral parts of the
cheek-bones. Consequently, where the temporal muscles
are massive, the spaces between the zygomatic arches and
the skull must be great; and the lateral projection of the
zygomatic arches great also, as we see it in the Mongolian
and other uncivilized races. Like large jaws, therefore,
of which it is an accompaniment, excessive size of the
cheek-bones is both an ugliness and an index of imperfection.
Certain other defects of feature, between which and
mental defects it is not thus easy to trace the connection,
may yet be fairly presumed to have such connection in
virtue of their constant coexistence with the foregoing
ones: alike in the uncivilized races and in the young of
the civilized races. Peculiarities of face which we find
regularly associated with those just shown to be significant of intellectual inferiority, and which like them disappear as barbarism grows into civilization, may reasonably
be concluded to have like them a psychological meaning.
Thus is it with depression of the bridge of the nose;
which is a characteristic both of barbarians and of our
babes, possessed by them  in common with the higher
quadrumana. Thus, also, is it with that forward opening
of the nostrils, which renders them conspicuous in a front
view of the face-a trait alike of infants, savages, and
apex. And the same may be said of wide-spread alam to




154                PERSONAL BEAUMY.
the nose, of great width between the eyes, of long mouth,
of large mouth-indeed of all those leading peculiarities
of feature which are by general consent called ugly.
And then mark how, conversely, the type of face usually admitted to be the most beautiful, is one that is not
simply free from these peculiarities, but possesses opposite
ones. In the ideal Greek head, the forehead projects so
much, and the jaws recede so much, as to render the facial
angle larger than we ever find it in fact. The cheek-bones
are so small as scarcely to be traceable. The bridge of
the nose is so high as to be almost or quite in a line with
the forehead. The ale of the nose join the face with but
little obliquity. In the front view the nostrils are almost
invisible. The mouth is small, and the upper lip short,
and deeply concave. The outer angles of the eyes, instead
of keeping the horizontal line, as is usual, or being directed
upwards, as in the Mongolian type, are directed slightly
downwards. And the form of the brow indicates an unusually large frontal sinus-a characteristic entirely absent
in children, in the lowest of the human races, and in the
allied genera.
If, then, recession of the forehead, protuberance of the
jaws, and largeness of the cheek-bones, three leading elements of ugliness, are demonstrably indicative of mental
inferiority-if such other facial defects as great width between the eyes, flatness of the nose, spreading of its aloe,
frontward opening of the nostrils, length of the mouth,
and largeness of the lips, are habitually associated with
these, and disappear along with them as intelligence increases, both in the race and in the individual; is it not a
fair inference that all such faulty traits of feature signify
deficiencies of mind? If, further, our ideal of human
beauty is characterized not simply by the absence of these
traits, but by the presence of opposite ones-if this ideal,
cas found in sculptures of the Greek gods, has been used]




FORMS OF FEATURE AND FORMS OF MIND.    155
to represent superhuman power and intelligence-and if
the race so using it were themselves distinguished by a
mental superiority, which, if we consider their disadvantages, produced results unparalleled; have we not yet
stronger reasons for concluding that the chief components
of beauty and ugliness are severally connected with perfection and imperfection of mental nature? And when,
lastly, we remember that the variations of feature constituting expression are confessedly significant of character
-when we remember that these tend by repetition to
organize themselves, to affect not only the skin and muscles but the bones of the face, and to be transmitted to
offspring-when we thus find that there is a psychological
meaning alike in each passing adjustment of the features,
in the marks that habitual adjustments leave, in the marks
inherited from ancestors, and in those main outlines of the
facial bones and integuments indicating the type or race;
are we not almost forced to the conclusion that all forms
of feature are related to forms of mind, and that we consider them admirable or otherwise according as the traits
of nature they imply are admirable or otherwise?
In the extremes the relationship is demonstrable.
That transitory aspects of face accompany transitory
mental states, and that we consider these aspects ugly or
beautiful according as the mental states they accompany
are ugly or beautiful, no one doubts. That those permanent and most marked aspects of face dependent on the
bony framework, accompany those permanent and most
marked mental states which express themselves in barbarism and civilization; and that we consider as beautiful
those which accompany mental superiority, and as ugly
those which accompany mental inferiority, is equally certain. And if this connection unquestionably holds in the
extremes-if, as judged by average facts, and by oul
-alf-instinctive convictions, it also holds more or less visi




L56                PERSONAL BEAUTY.
bly in intermediate cases, it becomes an almost irresistible
induction, that the aspects which please us are the outward
correlatives of inward perfections, while the aspects which
displease us are the outward correlatives of inward imperfections.
I am quite aware that when tested in detail this induction seems not to be borne out.  I know that there are
often grand natures behind plain faces; and that fine
countenances frequently hide  small souls.  But these
anomalies do not destroy the general truth of the law, any
more than the perturbations of planets destroy the general
ellipticity of their orbits. Some of them, indeed, may be
readily accounted for. There are many faces spoiled by
having one part perfectly developed while the rest of the
features are ordinary; others by the misproportion of features that are in themselves good; others, again, by defects of skin, which, though they indicate defects of visceral constitution, have manifestly no relationship to the
higher parts of the nature. Moreover, the facts that have
been assigned afford reason for thinking that the leading
elements of facial beauty are not directly associated with
Ynoral characteristics, but with intellectual ones-are the
results of long-continued civilized habits, long cessation
of domestic barbarism, long culture of the manipulative
powers; and so may coexist with emotional traits not at
all admirable.  It is true that the highest intellectual manifestations imply a good balance of the higher feelings; but
it is also true that great quickness, great sagacity in ordinary affairs, great practical skill, can be possessed without
these, and very frequently are so. The prevalent beauty
of the Italians, coexisting though it does with a low moral
state, becomes, on this hypothesis, reconcileable with the
general induction; as do also many of the anomalies we
see around us.
There is, however, a more satisfactory explanation tc




EFFECT OF MIXTURE OF RACES.              157
be offered than any of these-an explanation which I think
renders it possible to admit the seeming contradictions
which the detailed facts present, and yet to hold by the
theory.
All the civilized races, and probably also the uncivilized ones, are of mixed origin; and, as a consequence,
have physical and mental constitutions in which are mingled several aboriginal constitutions more or less differing
from each other. This heterogeneity of constitution seems
to me the chief cause of the incongruities between aspect
and nature which we daily meet with. Given a pure race,
subject to constant conditions of climate, food, and habits
of life, and there is every reason to believe that between
external appearance and internal structure there will be a
constant connection. Unite this race with another equally
pure, but adapted to different conditions and having a
correspondingly different physique, face, and morale, and
there will occur in the descendants, not a homogeneous
mean between the two constitutions, but a seemingly irregular combination of characteristics of the one with
characteristics of the other-one feature traceable to this
race, a second to that, and a third uniting the attributes
of both; while in disposition and intellect there will be
found a like medley of the two originals.
The fact that the forms and qualities of any offspring
are not a mean between the forms and qualities of its
parents, but a mixture of them, is illustrated in every
family.  The features and peculiarities of a child are separately referred by observers to father and mother respectively-nose and mouth to this side; colour of the hair
and eyes to that-this moral peculiarity to the first; this
intellectual one to the second-and so with contour and
idiosyncrasies of body.  Manifestly if each organ or faculty in a child was an average of the two developments
of such organ or faculty in the parents, it woul I follow




t58               PERSONAL BEAUTY.
that all brothers and sisters should be alike; or should, at
any rate, differ no more than their parents differed from
year to year. So far, however, from finding that this is
the case, we find not only that great irregularities are pro
duced by intermixture of traits, bt.hat there is no constancy in the mode of intermixture, or the extent of variation produced by it.
This imperfect union of parental constitutions in the
constitution of offspring, is yet more clearly illustrated by
the reappearance of peculiarities traceable to bygone generations. Forms, dispositions, and diseases, possessed by
distant progenitors, habitually come out from time to time
in descendants.  Some single feature, or some solitary
tendency, will again and again show itself, after being
apparently lost. It is notoriously thus with gout, scrofula, and insanity. On some of the monumental brasses in
our old churches are engraved heads having traits still
persistent in the same families. Wherever, as in portrait
galleries, a register of ancestral faces has been kept, the
same fact is more or less apparent. The pertinacity with
which particular characteristics reproduce themselves is
well exemplified in America, where traces of negro blood
can be detected in the finger nails, when no longer visible
in the complexion. Among breeders of animals it is well
known that, after several generations in which no visible
modifications were traceable, the effects of a cross will
suddenly make their appearance. In all which facts we
see the general law that an organism produced from two
organisms constitutionally different, is not a homogeneous
mean; but is made up of separate elements, taken in variable manner and proportion from the originals.
In a recent number of the Quarterly Journal of the
Agricultural Society were published some facts respecting
the mixture of French and English races of sheep, bearing
collaterally on this point.  Sundry attempts had been




RELATION OF CONSTITUTIONS.            159
made to im.rove the poor French breeds by our fine
English ones.  For a long time these attempts failed.
The hybrids bore no trace of their English ancestry; but
were as dwarfed and poverty-stricken as their French
dams. Eventually the cause of failure was found to lie
in the relative heterogeneity and homogeneity of the two
constitutions. The superior English sheep were of mixed
race; the French sheep, though inferior, were of pure
race; and the compound, imperfectly coordinated constitution of the one could not maintain itself against the
simple and completely-balanced constitution of the other.
This, at first an hypothesis, was presently demonstrated.
French sheep of mixed constitution having been obtained
by uniting two of the pure French breeds, it was found
that these hybrid French sheep, when united with the
English ones, produced a cross in which the English characteristics were duly displayed.  Now, this inability of a
mixed constitution to stand its ground against an unmixed
one, quite accords with the above induction. An unmixed
constitution is one in which all the organs are exactly fitted to each other-are perfectly balanced; the system, as
a whole, is in stable equilibrium. A mixed constitution,
on the contrary, being made up of organs belonging to
two separate sets, cannot have them in exact fitness-cannot have them perfectly balanced; and a system in comparatively unstable equilibrium results. But in proportion
to the stability of the equilibrium will be the power to
resist disturbing forces. Hence, when two constitutions,
in stable and unstable equilibrium respectively, become
disturbing forces to each other, the unstable one will be
overthrown, and the stable one will assert itself unchanged.
This imperfect coirdination of parts in a mixed constitution, and this consequent instability of its equilibrium, are intimately connected with the vexed question
of genera, species, and varieties; and, with a view rartly




160                PERSONAL BEAUTY.
to the intrinsic interest of this question, and partly to the
further elucidation of the topic in hand, I must again
digress.
The current physiological test of distinct species is the
production of a non-prolific hybrid. The ability of the
offspring to reproduce itself is held to indicate that its
parents are of the same species, however widely they may
differ in appearance; and its inability to do this is taken
as proof that, nearly allied as its parents may seem,
they are distinct in kind. Of late, however, facts have
been accumulating that tend more and more to throw
doubt on this generalization. Cattle breeders have established it as a general fact, that the offspring of two different breeds of sheep or oxen dwindle away in a few generations if allied with themselves; and that a good result
can be obtained only by mixing them with one or other
of the original breeds-a fact implying that what is true
of so-called species, is, under a modified form, true of varieties also. The same phenomena are observable in the
mixtures of different races of men. They, too, it is alleged, cannot maintain themselves as separate varieties;
but die out unless there is intermarriage with the originals.  In brief, it seems that the hybrids produced from
two distinct races of organisms may die out in the first,
second, third, fourth, fifth, &c., generation, according as
the constitutional difference of the races is greater or less.
Now, the experience of the French sheep-breeders,
above quoted, suggests a rationale of these various results.
For if it be true that an organism produced by two unlike
organisms is not a mean between them, but a mixture of
parts of the one with parts of the other-if it be true that
these parts belonging to two different sets are of necessity
imperfectly coordinated; then it becomes manifest that
in proportion as the difference between the parent organ.
isms is greater or less, the defects of coordination in the




CONGRUITY OF THE PARENTAL ELEMENTS.    161
offspring will be greater or less. Whence it follows, that
according to the degree of organic incongruity between
the parents, we may have every gradation in the offspring,
from a combination of parts so incongruous that it will
not work at all, up to a combination complete enough to
subsist permanently as a race.
And this is just what we find in fact. Between organisms widely differing in character, no intermediate organism is possible. When the difference is less, a non-prolific
hybrid is produced-an organism so badly coordinated as
to be capable only of incomplete life. When the difference is still less, there results an organism capable of reproducing itself; but not of bequeathing to its offspring
complete constitutions. And as the degrees of difference
are further diminished, the incompleteness of constitution
is longer and longer in making its appearance; until we
come to those varieties of the same species which differ
so slightly that their offspring are as permanent as themselves. Even in these, however, the organic equilibrium
seems less perfect; as illustrated in the case I have quoted.
And in connection with this inference, it would be interesting to inquire whether pure constitutions are not superior to mixed ones, in their power of maintaining the balance of vital functions under disturbing conditions. Is it
not a fact that the pure breeds are hardier than the mixed
ones? Are not the mixed ones, though superior in size,
less capable of resisting unfavourable influences-extremes
of temperature, bad food, &c.? And is not the like true
of mankind?
Returning to the topic in hand, it is manifest that these
facts and reasonings serve further to enforce the general
truth, that the offspring of two organisms not identical in
constitution is a heterogeneous mixture of the two, and
not a homogeneous mean between them.
If, then, bearing in mind this truth, we remember thl




162              PERSONAL BEAUTY.
composite character of the civilized races-the mingling
in ourselves, for example, of Celt, Saxon, Norman, Dane,
with sprinklings of other tribes; if we consider the complications of constitution that have arisen from the union
of these, not in any uniform manner, but with utter irregularity; and if we recollect that the incongruities thus
produced pervade the whole nature, mental and bodilynervous tissue and other tissues; we shall see that there
must exist in all of us an imperfect correspondence between parts of the organism that are really related; and
that as one manifestation of this, there must be more or
less of discrepancy between the features and those parts
of the nervous system with which they have a physiological connection.
And if this be so, then the difficulties that stand in the
way of the belief that beauty of character is related to
beauty of face are considerably diminished. It becomes
possible at once to admit that plainness may coexist with
nobility of nature, and fine features with baseness; and
yet to hold that mental and facial perfection are fundamentally connected, and will, when the present causes of
incongruity have worked themselves out, be ever found
united.




V
REPRESENTATIVE GOVERNMENT.
Q  HAKSPEARE"S simile for adversityWhich, like the toad, ugly and venomous,
Wears yet a pricccus jewel in his head,
might fitly be used also as a simile for a disagreeable
truth.  Repulsive as is its aspect, the hard fact which dissipates a cherished illusion, is presently found to contain
the germ of a more salutary belief. The experience of
every one furnishes instances in which an opinion long
shrunk from  as seemingly at variance with all that is
good, but finally accepted as irresistible, turns out to be
fraught with benefits.  It is thus with self-knowledge:
much as we dislike to admit our defects, we find it bettei
to know and guard against, than to ignore them. It is
thus with changes of creed: alarming as looks the reasoning by which superstitions are overthrown, the convictions to which it leads prove to be healthier ones than those
they superseded. And it is thus with political enlightenment: men eventually see cause to thank those who pull
to pieces their political air-castles; hateful as their antagonism once seemed. Moreover, not only is it always better
to believe truth than error; but the repugnant-looking
flcts tre ever found to be parts of something far more per



164          REPRESENTATIVE GOVERNMENT.
feet and beautiful than the ideal which they dispelled:
the actuality always transcends the dream. To the many
illustrations of this which might be cited, we shall presently add another.
It is a conviction almost universally entertained here
in England, that our method of making and administering
laws possesses every virtue. Prince Albert's unlucky saying that "Representative Government is on its trial," is
vehemently repudiated: we consider that the trial has
long since ended in our favour on all the counts. Partly
from ignorance, partly from the bias of education, partly
from that patriotism which leads the men of each nation
to pride themselves in their own institutions, we have an
unhesitating belief in the entire superiority of our form of
political organization. Yet there is evidence that it has
not a few apparently serious defects. Unfriendly critics
can point out vices that are manifestly inherent. And if
we may believe the defenders of despotism, these vices
are fatal to its efficiency.
Now instead of denying or blinking these allegations,
it would be much wiser candidly to examine them-to inquire whether they are true; and if true, what they imply. If, as most of us are so confident, government by
representatives is better than any other, we can afford
patiently to listen to all adverse remarks: believing that
they are either invalid, or that if valid they do not essentially tell against its merits. And we may be sure that if
our political system is well founded, this crucial criticism
will serve but to bring out its worth more clearly than
ever; and to give us better conceptions of its nature, its
meaning, its purpose. Let us, then, banishing for the
nonce all prepossessions, and taking  up a thoroughly
antagonistic point of view, set down without mitigation
its many vices, flaws, and absurdities.




COMPLEXITY OF POLITICAL MACHINERY.        165
Is it not manifest on the face of it, that a ruling body
made up of many individuals, who differ in character,
education, and aims, who belong to classes having more
or less antagonistic ideas and feelings, and who are
severally swayed by the special opinions of the districts
deputing them-is it not manifest that such a body must
be a cumbrous apparatus for the management of public
affairs?  When we devise a machine to perform  any
operation, we take care that its parts are as few as possible; that they are adapted to their respective ends; that
they are properly joined with one another; and that they
work smoothly to their common purpose. Our political
machine, however, is constructed upon directly opposite
principles. Its parts are extremely numerous: multiplied,
indeed, beyond all reason. They are not severally chosen
as specially qualified for particular functions; but are
mostly chosen without reference to particular functions.
No care is taken that they shall fit well together: on the
contrary, our arrangements are such that they are certain
not to fit. And that, as a consequence, they do not and
cannot act in harmony, is a fact nightly demonstrated to
all the world. In truth, had the problem been to find an
appliance for the slow and bungling transaction of business, it could scarcely have been better solved. Immense
Hindrance results from the mere multiplicity of parts; a
farther immense hindrance results from their incongruity;
yet another immense hindrance results from the frequency
with which they are changed; while the greatest hindrance of all results from the want of subordination of
the parts to their functions-from the fact that the personal welfare of the legislator is not bound up with the
efficient performance of his political duty, but is often
totally at variance with the performance of his political
luty.
These are defects of a kind that do not admit of remedy




166         REPRESENTATIVE GOVERNMENT.
They are inherent in the very nature of our institutions,
and they cannot fail to produce disastrous mismanagement. If proofs of this be needed, they may be furnished
in abundance, both from the current history of our central representative government, and from that of local
ones, public and private-from that of municipal corporations, boards of health, boards of guardians, mechanics'
and literary institutions, and societies of all kinds: the
universality of the evils showing that they are not accidental but intrinsic. Let us, before going on to contemplate these evils as displayed on a great scale in our legislature, glance at some of them in their simpler and smaller
manifestations.
We will not dwell upon the comparative inefficiency
of deputed administration in all mercantile affairs. The
untrustworthiness of management by proxies, might be
afresh illustrated by the many recent joint-stock-bank
catastrophies: the recklessness and dishonesty of rulers
whose interests are not one with those of the concern
they control, being in these cases conspicuously displayed,
Or we could enlarge on the same truth as exhibited in
the doings of railway boards: instancing the frequent
malversations proved against directors; the carelessness
which has permitted Robson and Redpath frauds; the
rashness perseveringly shown in making  unprofitable
branches and extensions.  But facts of this kind are
sufficiently familiar.  All men are convinced that for
manufacturing  and  commercial ends, management by
many partially-interested directors, is immensely inferior
to management by a single wholly-interested owner.
Let us pass, then, to less notorious examples. Mechanics' institutions will supply our first. The theory of these
is plausible enough. Artisans wanting knowledge, and
benevolent middle-class people wishing to help them to it,
constitute the raw material.  By uniting their means they




WORKING OF MECHANICS' INSTITUTIONS.        167
propose to obtain literary and other advantages, which
else would be beyond their reach. And it is concluded
that, being all interested in securing the proposed objects,
and the governing body being chosen out of their number,
the results cannot fail to be such as were intended. In
most cases, however, the results are quite otherwise. Indifference, stupidity, party-spirit, and religious dissension,
nearly always thwart the efforts of the promoters. It is
thought good policy to select as president some local
notability; probably not distinguished for wisdom, but
whose donation or prestige more than counter-balances
his defect in this respect. Vice-presidents are chosen with
the same view: a clergyman or two; some neighbouring
squires, if they can be had; an ex-mayor; several aldermen; half a dozen manufacturers and wealthy tradesmen;
and a miscellaneous complement. WVhile the committee,
mostly elected more because of their position or popularity
than their intelligence or fitness for cooperation, exhibit
similar incongruities.
Causes of dissension quickly arise.  A  book much
wished for by the mass of the members, is tabooed, because ordering it would offend the clerical party in the
institution. Regard for the prejudices of certain magistrates and squires who figure among the vice-presidents,
forbids the engagement of an otherwise desirable and popular lecturer, whose political and religious opinions are
somewhat extreme.  The selection of newspapers and
magazines for the reading-room, is a fruitful source of disputes. Should some, thinking it would be a great boon to
those for whom the institution was expressly established,
propose to open the reading-room on Sundays, there arises
a violent fight; ending, perhaps, in the secession of some
of the defeated party.
The question of amusements, again, furnishes a bone
of contention.  Shall the institution exist solely for in8




168         REPRESENTATIVE GOVERNMENT.
struction, or shall it add gratification?  The refreshment.
question, also, is apt to be raised, and to add to the other
causes of difference.  In short, the stupidity, prejudice,
party-spirit, and squabbling, are such as eventually to
drive away in disgust those who should have been the
administrators; and to leave the control in the hands of a
clique, who pursue some humdrum middle course, satisfying nobody.  Instead of that prosperity which would
probably have been achieved under the direction of one
good man-of-business, whose welfare was bound up with
its success, the institution loses its prestige, and dwindles
away: ceases almost entirely to be what was intended-a
mechanics' institution; and becomes little more than a
middle-class lounge, kept up not so much by the permanent adhesion of its members, as by the continual addition
of new ones in place of the old ones constantly falling off.
Meanwhile, the- end originally proposed is fulfilled, so far
as it gets fulfilled at all, by private enterprise. Cheap
newspapers and cheap periodicals, provided by publishers
having in view the pockets and tastes of the workingclasses; coffee-shops and penny reading-rooms, set up by
men whose aim is profit; are the instruments of the chief
proportion of such culture as is going on.
In higher-class institutions of the same order-in Athenaums, Philosophical Societies, etc.-the like inefficiency
of representative government is very generally displayed.
Quickly following the vigour of early enthusiasm, come
class and sectarian differences, the final supremacy of a
party, bad management, apathy.  Subscribers complain
they cannot get what they want; and one by one desert
to private book-clubs or to Mudie.
Turning from non-political to political institutions, we
might, had we space, draw many illustrations from the
doings of the old poor-law authorities, or those of modern
boards of guardians; but omitting these and others such,




WORLING OF MUNICIPAL CORPORATIONS.    169
we will, among local governments, confine ourselves to
the reformed municipal corporations.
If, leaving out of sight all other evidences, and forgetting that they are newly-organized bodies into which
corruption has scarcely had time to creep, we were to
judge of these municipal corporations by the town-improvements they have effected, we might pronounce them
successful. But, even without insisting on the fact that
such improvements are more due to the removal of obstructions, and to that same progressive spirit which has established railways and telegraphs, than to the positive virtues
of the civic governments; it is to be remarked, that the execution of numerous public works is by no means an adequate test. With power of raising funds limited only by a
rebellion of ratepayers, it is easy in prosperous, increasing
towns, to make a display of efficiency. The proper questions to be asked are:-Do municipal elections end in
the choice of the fittest men that are to be found? Does
the resulting  administrative body, perform  well and
economically the work that devolves on it? And does it
show sound judgment in refraining from needless or improper work? To these questions the answers are by no
means satisfactory.
Town-councils are not conspicuous for either intelligence or high character.  On the contrary, they consist
of a very large proportion of ciphers, interspersed with a
few superior men.  Indeed, there are competent judges
who think that, on the average, their members are inferior
to those of the old close corporations they superseded.
As all the world knows, the choice turns mainly on political opinions. The first question respecting any candidate
is, not whether he has great knowledge, judgment, or
business-faculty-not whether he has any special aptitude
for the duty to be discharged; but whether he is Whig or
Tory. Even supposing his politics to be approved, his




170         REPRESENTATIVE GOVERNMENT.
nomination still does not depend chiefly on his proved
uprightness or capacity; but much more on his friendly
relations with the dominant clique. A number of the
corporation magnates, habitually meeting probably at the
chief hotel, and there held together as much by the brotherhood of conviviality as by that of opinion, discuss the
merits of all whose names are before the public, and
decide which are the most suitable. This gin-and-water
caucus it is, which practically determines the selection of
candidates; and, by consequence, the elections. Those
who will succumb to leadership-those who will merge
their private opinions in the policy of their party, of
course have the preference. Men too independent for this
-too  far-seeing to join in the shibboleth of the hour,
or too refined to mix with the "jolly good fellows" who
thus rule the town, are shelved; notwithstanding that
they are, above all others, fitted for office.  Partly from
this underhand influence, and partly from the consequent
disgust which leads them to decline standing if asked, the
best men are generally not in the governing body. It is
notorious that in London, the most respectable merchants
will have nothing to do with the local government. And
in New York, "the exertions of its better citizens are still
exhausted in private accumulation, while the duties of
administration are left to other hands." It cannot then
be asserted that in town-government, the representative
system succeeds in bringing the ablest and most honourable men to the top.
The efficient and economical discharge of duties is, of
course, hindered by this inferiority of the deputies chosen;
and it is yet further hindered by the persistent action of
party and personal motives. Not whether he knows well
how to handle a level, but whether he voted for the popu.
lar candidate at the last parliamentary election, is the
question on which may, and sometimes does, hang the




HOW THE CHOICE OF MEN IS DETERMINED.   171
choice of a town-surveyor; and if sewers are ill laid out,
it is a natural consequence. When, a new public edifice
having been decided on, competition designs are advertised for; and when the designs, ostensibly anonymous
but really identifiable, have been sent in; T. Square, Esq.,
who has an influential relative in the corporation, makes
sure of succeeding, and is not disappointed: albeit his
plans are not those which would have been chosen by any
one of the judges, had the intended edifice been his own.
Brown, who has for many years been on the town-council,
and is one of the dominant clique, has a son who is a doctor; and when, in pursuance of an Act of Parliament, an
officer of health is to be appointed, Brown privately canvasses his fellow-councillors, and succeeds in persuading
them to elect his son; though his son is by no means the
fittest man the place can furnish. Similarly with the choice
of tradesmen to execute work for the town. A public
clock that is frequently getting out of order, and Boardof-Health water-closets which disgust those who have
them (we state facts), sufficiently testify that stupidity,
favouritism, or some sinister influence, is ever causing mismanagement. The choice of inferior representatives, and
by them of inferior employes, joined with private interest
and divided responsibility, inevitably prevent the discharge of duties from being satisfactory.
Moreover, the extravagance which is now becoming a
notorious vice of municipal bodies, is greatly increased by
the practice of undertaking things which they ought not
to undertake; and the incentive to do this is, in many
cases, traceable to the representative origin of the body.
The system of compounding with landlords for municipal
rates, leads the lower class of occupiers into the error that
town-burdens do not fall on them; and they therefore
approve of an expenditure which seemingly gives them
gratis advantages. As they form the mass of the constif



172        REPRESENTATIVE GOVERMIENT.
tuency, lavishness becomes a popular policy; and popu
larity-hunters vie with each other in bringing forward
new and expensive projects. Here is a councillor who,
having fears about his next election, proposes an extensive scheme for public gardens-a scheme which many
who disapprove do not oppose, because they, too, bear in
mind the next election. There is another councillor, who
keeps a shop, and who raises and agitates the question of
baths and wash-houses; very well knowing that his trade
is not likely to suffer from such a course.  And so in
other cases: the small direct interest which each member
of the corporation has in economical administration, is
antagonized by so many indirect interests of other kinds,
that he is not likely to be a good guardian of the public
purse.
Thus, neither in respect of the deputies chosen, the
efficient performance of their work, nor the avoidance of
unfit work, can the governments of our towns be held
satisfactory. And if in these recently-formed bodies the
defects are so conspicuous, still more conspicuous are they
where they have had time to grow to their full magnitude:
witness the case of New York. According to the Times
correspondent in that city, the New York people pay
"over a million and a half sterling, for which they have
badly-paved streets, a police by no means as efficient as it
should be, though much better than formerly, the greatest
amount of dirt north of Italy, the poorest cab-system of
any metropolis in the world, and only unsheltered wooden
piers for the discharge of merchandise."
And now, having glanced at the general bearings of
uhe question in these minor cases, let us take the major
case of our central government; and in connection with it,
oursue the inquiry more closely. Here the inherent faults
-of the representative system are still more clearly dii




THE BEST MEN N(iT SELECTED.            173
played.  The greater multiplicity of rulers involves
greater cumbrousness, greater confusion and delay. Differences of class, of aims, of prejudices, are both larger in
number and wider in degree; and hence arise dissensions
still more multiplied.  The direct effect which each legislator is likely to experience from the working of any particular measure, is usually very small and remote; while
the indirect influences that sway him, are, in this above
all other cases, numerous and strong; whence follows a
marked tendency to neglect public welfare for private
advantage. But let us set out from the beginning-with
the constituencies.
The representative theory assumes that if a number of
citizens, deeply interested as they all are in good government, be endowed with political power, they will choose
the wisest and best men for governors.  Seeing how
greatly they must suffer from bad administration of public affairs and benefit from good, it is considered self-evident that they must have the will to select proper representatives; and it is further taken for granted  that
average common sense gives the ability to select proper
representatives.   Iow  does experience bear out these
assumptions?  Does it not to a great degree negative
them?
We find several considerable classes of electors who
have little or no will in the matter. Not a few of those
on the register pique themselves on taking no part in politics-claim credit for having the sense not to meddle with
things that do not concern them. MIany others there are
whose interests in the choice of a member of Parliament
are so slight, that they do not think it worth while to
vote.  A notable proportion, too, shopkeepers especially,
care so little about the result, that their votes are determined by their wishes to please their chief patrons. In
the minds of a yet larger class, small sums of money, or




174         REPRESENI ATIVE GOVERNMENT.
even ad libitum  supplies of beer, outweigh any desiies
they have to use their political powers independently.
Those who adequately recognize the importance of honestly exercising their judgments in the selection of legislators, and who give conscientious votes, form but a minority; and the election usually hangs less upon their wills
than upon the indirect and illegitimate influences which
sway the rest.
Then, again, as to intelligence. Even supposing that
the mass of electors have a sufficiently decided willto choose
the best rulers, what evidence have we of their ability?
Is picking out the wisest man among them, a task within
the range of their capacities? Let any one listen to the
conversation of a farmer's market-table, and then answer
how much he finds of that wisdom which is required to
discern wisdom in others.  Or let him read the clap-trap
speeches made from the hustings with a view of pleasing
constituents, and then estimate the penetration of those
who are to be so pleased. Even among the higher order
of electors he will meet with gross political ignorancewith notions that Acts of Parliament can do whatever it
is thought well they should do; that the value of gold
can be fixed by law; that distress can be remedied by
poor-laws; and so forth. If he descends a step, he will
find in the still-prevalent ideas that machinery is injurious
to the working-classes, and that extravagance is "good
for trade," indices of a yet smaller insight. And in the
lower and larger class, formed by those who think that
their personal interest in good government is not worth
the trouble of voting, or is outbalanced by the loss of a
customer, or is of less value than a bribe, he will perceive
an alnost hopeless stupidity. Without going the length
of Mr. Carlyle, and defining the people as " twenty-seven
millions, mostly fools," he will yet confess that they are
but very sparely gifted with wisdom.




INCAPACITY OF SELECTION.            175
That these should succeed in choosing from out their
number the fittest governors, would be strange; and that
they do not so succeed is manifest. Even as judged by
the most common-sense tests, their selections are absurd,
as we shall shortly see.
It is a self-evident truth that we may most safely trust
those whose interests are identical with our own; and
that it is very dangerous to trust those whose interests
are antagonistic to our own. All the legal securities we
take in our transactions with each other, are so many
recognitions of this truth. WVe are not satisfied with professions. If another's position is such that he must be
liable to motives at variance with the promises he makes,
we take care by introducing an artificial motive (the dread
of legal penalties) to make it his interest to fulfil these
promises. Down to the asking for a receipt, our daily
business-habits testify that, in consequence of the prevailing selfishness, it is extremely imprudent to expect men
to regard the claims of others equally with their own;all asseverations of good faith notwithstanding. Now, it
might have been thought that even the modicum of sense
possessed by the majority of electors, would have led them
to recognize this fact in the choice of their representatives.
But they show a total disregard of it.
While the theory of our Constitution, in conformity
with this same fact, assumes that the three divisions composing the Legislature will severally pursue each its own
ends-while our history shows that Monarch, Lords, and
Commons, have all along more or less conspicuously done
this; our electors manifest by their votes, the belief that
their interests will be as well cared for by members of the
titled class as by members of their own class. Though,
in their determined opposition to the Reform-Bill, the
aristocracy showed how greedy they were, not only of
their legitimate power, but of their illegitimate power-~




176         REPRESENTATIVE GOVERNMENT.
though by the enactment and pertinacious maintenance
of the Corn-Laws, they proved how little popular welfare
weighed in the scale against their own profit-though
they have ever displayed a watchful jealousy even of their
smallest privileges, whether equitable or inequitable (as
witness the recent complaint in the House of Lords, that
the Mercantile Marine Act calls on lords of manors to
show their titles before they can claim the wrecks thrown
on the shores of their estates, which before they had
always done by prescription)-though they have habitually pursued that self-seeking policy which men so
placed were sure to pursue; yet constituencies have
decided that members of the aristocracy may fitly be
chosen as representatives of the people. Our present
House of Commons contains 98 Irish peers and sons of
English peers; 66 blood-relations of peers; and 67 connections of peers by marriage: in all, 231 members whose
interests or sympathies, or both, are with the nobility
rather than the commonalty.
We are quite prepared to hear the doctrine implied in
this criticism, condemed by rose-water politicians as narrow and prejudiced. To such we simply reply, that they
and their friends fully recognize this doctrine when it
suits them to do so. What is the meaning of their wish
to prevent the town-constituencies from predominating
over the county-ones; if it does not imply the belief that
each division of the community will consult its own welfare? Or what plea can there be for Lord John Russell's
proposal to represent minorities; unless it be the plea that
those who have the opportunity will sacrifice the interests
of others to their own?  Or how shall we explain the
anxiety of the upper class to keep a tight rein on the
growing power of the lower class, save from their consciousness that bondfide representatives of the lower class
would be less regardful of their privileges than they are




CLASSES ATTEND TO THEI  OWN INTERESTS.   1 7
themselves? The truth is plain enough, even for a child
to comprehend. If there be any reason in the theory of
the Constitution, then, while the members of the House
of Peers should belong to the peerage, the members of the
House of Commons should belong to the commonalty.
Either the constitutional theory is sheer nonsense, or else
the choice of lords as representatives of the people proves
the folly of constituencies.
But this folly by no means ends here: it works out
other results quite as absurd. What should we think of a
man giving his servants equal authority with himself over
the affairs of his household?  Suppose the shareholders
in a railway company were to elect, as members of their
board of directors, the secretary, engineer, superintendent, traffic-manager, and others such? Should we not be
astonished at their stupidity?  Should we not prophesy
that the private advantage of officials would frequently
override the welfare of the company?  Yet our parliamentary electors commit a blunder of just the same kind.
For what are military and naval officers but servants of
the nation; standing to it in a relation like that in which
the officers of a railway-company stand to the company?
Do they not perform public work? do they not take public pay? And do not their interests differ from those of
the public, as the interests of the employed from those of
the employer? The impropriety of admitting executive
agents of the State into the Legislature, has over and
over again thrust itself into notice; and in minor cases
has been prevented by sundry Acts of Parliament. Enumerating those disqualified for the House of Commons,
Blackstone says:
" No person concerned in the management of any duties of
taxes created since 1692, except the commissioners of the treasury,
nor any of the officers following (viz., commissioners of prizes,
transports, sick and wounded, wine licenses, navy, and victualling;




ITS           REPRESENTATITTE GOVERNMENT.
secretaries and receivers of prizes; comptrollers of the ar-my acO
counts; agents of regiments; governors of plantations, and their
deputies; officers of Minorca or Gibraltar; officers of the excise
and customs; clerks and deputies in the several offices of the
treasury, exchequer, navy, victualling, admiralty, pay of the army
and navy, secretaries of state, salt, stamps, appeals, wine, licenses,
hackney coaches, hawkers and pedlars), nor any persons that hold
any new office under the crown created since 1705, are capable of
being elected, or sitting as members."
In which list naval and military officers would doubtless
have been included, had they not always been too powerful a body and too closely identified with the dominant
classes.  Glaring, however, as is the impolicy of appointing public servants to make the laws; and clearly as this
impolicy is recognized in the above-specified exclusions
from  time to time enacted; the people at large seem  totally oblivious of it. At the last election they returned 9
naval officers, 46 military officers, and 51 retired military
officers, who in virtue of education, friendship, and esprit
ce corps, take the same views with their active comrades
-in all 106: not including 64 officers of militia and yeomanry, whose sympathies and ambitions are in a considerable degree the same.  If any one thinks that this large
infusion of officialism is of no consequence, let him look
in the division-lists.  Let him inquire how much it has had
to do with the maintenance of the purchase-system.  Let
him ask whether the almost insuperable obstacles to the
promotion of the private soldier, have not been strengthened by it.  Let him see what share it had in keeping up
those worn-out practices, and forms, and mis-arrangements, which entailed the disasters of our late war.  Let
aim  consider whether the hlshing-up of the Crimean Inquiry, and  the whitewashing  Of delinquents, were not
aided by it.  Yet, though abundant experience thus confirms what common sense would beforehand have prophe



LAWYERS AS LEGISLATORS.             179
sieJ; and though, notwithstanding the late disasters, exposures, and public outcry for army-reform, the influence
of the military caste is so great, that the reform has been
staved off; our constituencies are stupid enough to send
to Parliament as many military officers as ever!
Not even now have we reached the end of these impolitic selections. The general principle on which we
have been insisting, and which is recognized by expounders of the constitution when they teach that the legislative
and executive divisions of the Government should be distinct-this general principle is yet further sinned against;
though not in so literal a manner. For though they do
not take State-pay, and are not nominally Governmentofficers, yet, practically, lawyers are members of the executive organization. They form an important part of the
apparatus for the administration of justice. By the working of this apparatus they make their profits; and their
welfare depends on its being so worked as to bring them
profits, rather than on its being so worked as to administer justice. Exactly as military officers have interests distinct from, and often antagonistic to, the efficiency of the
army; so, barristers and solicitors have interests distinct
from, and often antagonistic to, the simple, cheap, and
prompt enforcement of the law.
And that they are habitually swayed by these antagonistic interests, is notorious. It is not in human nature
that they should be otherwise. So strong is the bias, as
sometimes even to destroy the power of seeing from any
other than the professional stand-point.  We have ourselves heard a lawyer declaiming on the damage which
the County-Courts-Act had done to the profession; and
expecting his non-professional hearers to join him in condemning it therefor!  And if, as all the world knows,
the legal conscience is not of the tenderest, is it wise to
depute lawyers to frame the laws which they will be con



[l8         REPRESENTATIVE GOVERNMENT.
cerned in carrying out; and the carrying out of which
must affect their private incomes? Are barristers, who
constantly take fees for work which they do not perform,
and attorneys, whose bills are so often exorbitant that a
special office has been established for taxing them-are
these, of all others, to be trusted in a position which would
be trying even to the most disinterested? Nevertheless,
the towns and counties of England have returned to the
present House of Commons 98 lawyers-some 60 of them
in actual practice, and the rest retired, but doubtless retaining those class-views acquired during their professional
careers.
These criticisms on the conduct of constituencies, do
not necessarily commit us to the assertion that none belonging to the official and aristocratic classes ought to be
chosen. Though it would be safer to carry out in these
important cases, the general principle which, as above
shown, Parliament has itself recognized and enforced in
unimportant cases; yet we are not prepared to say that
occasional exceptions might not be made, on good cause
being shown. All we aim to show is, the gross impolicy
of selecting so large a proportion of representatives from
classes having interests different from those of the general
public. That in addition to more than a third taken from
the dominant class, who already occupy one division of the
Legislature, the House of Commons should contain nearly
another third taken from the naval, military, and legal
classes, whose policy, like that of the dominant class, is to
maintain things as they are; we consider a decisive proof
of electoral misjudgment. That out of 654 members, of
which the People's House now consists, there should be
but 250 who, as considered from a class-point of view, are
eligible or tolerably eligible (for we include a considerable
iumrber who are more or less objectionable), is significant
~f any thing but popular good sense. That into an as



THE IGNORANT CANNOT UNDERSTAND THE WVISE. 181
selmbly established to protect their interests, the commonalty of England should have sent one-third whose interests
are the same as their own, and two-thirds whose interests
are at variance with their own, proves a scarcely credible
lack of wisdom; and seems an awkward fact for the repre.
sentative theory.
If the intelligence of the mass is thus not sufficient
even to choose out men who by position and occupation
are fit representatives, still less is it sufficient to choose
out men who are the fittest in character and capacity. To
see who will be liable to the bias of private advantage is
a very easy thing; to see who is wisest is a very difficult
thing; and those who do not succeed in the first must
necessarily fail in the last. The higher the wisdom, the
more incomprehensible does it become by ignorance.  It
is a manifest fact that the popular man or writer, is always
one who is but little in advance of the mass, and consequently understandable by them: never the man who is
far in advance of them, and out of their sight. Appreciation of another implies some community of thought.'Only the man of worth can recognize worth in men.... The worthiest, if he appealed to universal suffrage,
would have but a poor chance.......  Alas! Jesus
Christ, asking the Jews what he deserved-was not the
answer, Death on the gallows!"  And though men do not
now-a-days stone the prophet, they, at any rate, ignore
him. As Mr. Carlyle says in his vehement way" If of ten men nine are recognizable as fools, which is a common calculation, how, in the name of wonder, will you ever get a
ballot-box to grind you out a wisdom from the votes of these ten
men?..... I tell you a million blockheads looking authoritatively into one man of what you call genius, or noble sense, will
make nothing but nonsense out of him and his qualities, and his
virtues and defects, if they look till the end of time."
So that, even were electors content to choose the man




182        REPRESENTATIVE  O0 VERNMENT.
proved by general evidence to be the most far-seeing, and
refrained from testing him by the coincidence of his views
with their own, there would be small chance of their hitting on the best. But judging of him, as they do, by
asking him whether he thinks this or that crudity which
they think, it is manifest that they will fix on one far removed from the best. Their deputy will be truly representative;-representative, that is, of the average stupidity.
And now let us look at the assembly of representatives
thus chosen. Already we have noted the unfit composition of this assembly as respects the interests of its members; and we have just seen what the representative theory
itself implies as to their intelligence. Let us now, how
ever, consider them more nearly under this last head.
And first, what is the work they undertake   Observe, we do not say, the work which they ought to do;
but the work which they propose to do, and try to do.
This comprehends the regulation of nearly all actions
going on throughout society. Besides devising measures
to prevent the aggression of citizens on each other, and to
secure each the quiet possession of his own; and besides
assuming the further function, also needful in the present
state of mankind, of defending the nation as a whole
against invaders; they unhesitatingly take on themselves
to provide for countless wants, to cure countless ills, to
oversee countless affairs. Out of the many beliefs men
have held respecting God, Creation, the Future, etc., they
presume to decide which are true; and endow an army of
priests to perpetually repeat them to the people. The
distress inevitably resulting from improvidence, and the
greater or less pressure of population on produce, they
undertake to remove: they settle the minimum which
each rate-payer shall give in charity; and how the pro



THINGS PROPOSED TO BE DONE.              183
ceeds shall be administered.  Judging that emigration
will not naturally go on fast enough, they provide means
for carrying off some of the labourirg classes to the colonies. Certain that social necessities will not cause a sufficiently rapid spread of knowledge, and confident that
they know what knowledge is most required, they use
public money for the building of schools and paying of
teachers; they print and publish State-school-books; they
employ inspectors to see that their standard of education
is conformed to. Playing the part of doctor, they insist
that every one shall use their specific, and escape the danger of small-pox by submitting to an attack of cow-pox.
Playing the part of moralist, they decide which dramas
are fit to be acted, and which are not. Playing the part
of artist, they prompt the setting up of drawing-schools;
provide masters and models; and, at Marlborough House,
enact what shall be considered good taste, and what bad.
Through their lieutenants, the corporations of towns, they
furnish appliances for the washing of people's skins and
clothes; they, in some cases, manufacture gas and put
down water-pipes; they lay out sewers and cover over
cess-pools; they establish public libraries and make public gardens. Moreover, they determine how houses shall
be built, and what is a safe construction for a ship; they
take measures for the security of railway travelling; they
fix the hour after which public-houses may not be open;
they regulate the prices chargeable by vehicles plying in
the London streets; they inspect lodging-houses; they
arrange for town burial-grounds; they fix the hours of
factory hands. In short, they aim to control and direct
the entire national life. If some social process does not
seem to them to be going on fast enough, they stimulate
Lt; where the growth is not in the mode or the direction
which they think most desirable, they alter it; and so
they seek to realize some undefined ideal community.




184        REPRESENTATIVE GOVERNMENT.
Such being the task undertaken, what, let us ask, are
the qualifications for discharging it? Supposing it possible to achieve all this (which we do not), what must be
the knowledge and capacities of those who shall achieve
it? Successfully to prescribe for society, it is needful to
know the structure of society-the principles on which it
is organized-the natural laws underlying its progress.
If there be not a true understanding of what constitutes
social development, there must necessarily be grave mistakes made in checking these changes and fostering those.
If there be lack of insight respecting the mutual dependence of the many functions which, taken together, make
up the national life, unforeseen disasters will ensue from
not perceiving how an interference with one will affect
the rest. If there be no knowledge of the natural consensus at any time subsisting in the social organism, there
will of course be bootless attempts to secure ends which
do not consist with its passing phase of organization.
Clearly, before any effort to regulate the myriad multiform changes going on in a community, can be rationally
made, there must be an adequate comprehension of how
these changes are caused, and in what way they are related to each other-how this entangled web of phenomena hangs together-how it came thus, and what it is
becoming. That is to say, there must be a due acquaintance with the social science-the science involving all
others; the science standing above all others in subtlety
and complexity; the science which the highest intelligence
alone can master.
And now, how far do our legislators possess this qualification?  Do they in any moderate degree display it?
Do they make even a distant approximation to it? That
many of them are very good classical scholars is beyond
doubt:' not a few have written first-rate Latin verses, and
can enjoy a Greek play; but there is no obvious relation




QUALIFICATIONS OF LEGISLATORS.        185
between a memory well stocked with the words talked
two thousand years ago, and an understanding disciplined
to deal with modern society. That in learning the languages of the past they have learnt some of its history, is
true; but considering that this history is mainly a narrative of battles and intrigues and negotiations, it does not
throw much light on social philosophy-not even the simplest principles of political economy have ever been gathered from it. We do not question, either, that a moderate percentage of members of Parliament are fair mathematicians; and that mathematical discipline is valuable.
As, however, political problems are not susceptible of
mathematical analysis, their studies in this direction cannot much aid them in legislation.
To the large body of military officers who sit as representatives, we would not for a moment deny a competent
knowledge of fortification, of strategy, of regimental discipline; but we do not see that these throw much light
on the causes and cure of national evils. Indeed, considering that all war is anti-social, and that the government
of soldiers is necessarily despotic; military education and
habits are more likely to unfit than to fit men for regulating the doings of a free people. Extensive acquaintance
with the laws, may doubtless be claimed by the many barristers and solicitors chosen by our constituencies; and
this seems a kind of information having some relation to
the work to be done. Unless, however, this information
is more than technical-unless it is accompanied by a
knowledge of the ramified consequences that laws have
produced in times past, and are producing now (which
nobody will assert); it cannot give much insight into So
cial Science. A familiarity with laws is no more a prepa
ration for rational legislation, than would a familiarity
with all the nostrums men have ever used, be a prepara
tion for the rational practice of medicine. Nowhere, then,




186        REPRESENTATIVE GOVERNIENT.
in our representative body, do we find appropriate culture
Here is a clever novelist, and there a successful maker of
railways; this member has acquired a large fortune in
trade, and that member is noted as an agricultural improver; but none of these achievements imply fitness for
controlling and adjusting social processes. Among the
many who have passed through the public school and university curriculum-including though they may a few
Oxford double-firsts and one or two Cambridge wranglers
-there are none who have received the discipline required
by the true legislator. None have that competent knowledge of Science in general, culminating in the Science of
Life, which can alone form a basis for the Science of Society.
For it is one of those open secrets which seem the
more secret because they are so open, that all phenomena
displayed by a nation are phenomena of Life, and are
without exception dependent on the laws of Life. There
is no growth, decay, evil, improvement, or change of any
kind, going on in the body politic, but what has its original cause in the actions of human beings; and there are
no actions of human beings but what conform to the laws
of Life in general, and cannot be truly understood until
those laws are understood. We do not hesitate to assert
that without a knowledge of the laws of Life, and a clear
comprehension of the way in which they underlie and
determine social growth and organization, the attempted
regulation of social life must end in perpetual failures.
See, then, the immense incongruity between the end
and the means. See on the one hand the countless difficulties of the gigantic task; and on the other hand the
almost total unpreparedness of those who undertake it.
Need we wonder that legislation is ever breaking down?
Is it not natural that complaint, amendment, and repeal,
should form the staple business of every session? Is there




LACK OF POLITICAL EDUCATION.          187
any thing more than might be expected in the absurd
Jack-Cadeisms which almost nightly disgrace the debates?
Even without setting up so high a standard of qualification as that above specified, the unfitness of most representatives for their duties is abundantly manifest. You
need but glance over the miscellaneous list of noblemen,
baronets, squires, merchants, barristers, engineers, soldiers,
sailors, railway-directors, etc., and then ask what training
their previous lives have given them for the intricate business of legislation, to see at once how extreme must be
the incompetence. One would think that the whole system  had been framed on the sayings of some political
Dogberry:-" The art of healing is difficult; the art of
government easy. The understanding of arithmetic comes
by study; while the understanding of society comes by
instinct. Watchmaking requires a long apprenticeship;
but there needs none for the making of institutions. To
manage a shop properly requires teaching; but the management of a people may be undertaken without preparation."  Were we to be visited by some wiser Gulliver, or,
as in the " Micromegas" of Voltaire, by some inhabitant
of another sphere, his account of our political institutions
might run somewhat as follows:
"I found that the English were governed by an assem
bly of men, said to embody the' collective wisdom.' This
assembly, joined with some other authorities which seem
practically subordinate to it, has unlimited power. I was
much perplexed by this. With us it is customary to
define the office of any appointed body; and above all
things to see that it does not defeat the ends for which it
was appointed. But both the theory and the practice of
this English Government, imply that it may do whatevel
it pleases. Though, by their current maxims and usages,
the English recognize the right of property as sacredthough the infraction of it is considered by them one o@




L88        REPRESENTATIVE GOVERNMENT.
the gravest crimes-though the laws profess to be so jeal
ous of it as to punish even the stealing of a turnip; yet
their legislators suspend it at will. They take the money
of citizens for any project which they choose to undertake; though such project was not in the least contemplated by those who gave them  authority-nay, though
the greater part of the citizens from whom the money is
taken had no share in giving them such authority. Each
citizen can hold property only so long as the 654 deputies
do not want it. It seemed to me that an exploded doc
trine once current among them of' the divine right of
kings,' had simply been changed into the divine right of
Parliaments.
" I was at first inclined to think that the constitution
of things on the Earth was totally different from what it
is with us; for the current political philosophy here, implies that acts are not right or wrong in themselves, but
become one or the other by the votes of law-makers. In
our world it is considered manifest that if a number of
beings live together, there must, in virtue of their natures,
be certain primary conditions on which only they can
work satisfactorily in concert; and that the conduct which
breaks through these conditions is bad. In the English
legislature, however, a proposal to regulate conduct by
any such abstract standard would be held absurd.  I
asked one of their members of Parliament whether a majority of the House could legitimize murder. lie said,
No. I asked him whether it could sanctify robbery. He
thought not. But I could not make him see that if murder and robbery are intrinsically wrong, and not to be
made right by decisions of statesmen, that similarly all
actions must be either right or wrong, apart from the authority of the law; and that, if the right and wrong of
the law are not in harmony with this intrinsic right and
wrong, the law itself is criminal. Some, indeed, among




SUPPOSED OMNIPOTENCE OF VOTES.              189
the English think as we do.  One of their remarkable
men (not included in their Assembly of Notables) writes
thus:
"' To ascertain better and better what the will of the Eternal
was and is with us, what the laws of the Eternal are, all Parliaments. Ecumenic Councils, Congresses, and other Collective Wisdoms, have had this for their object....... Nevertheless, in the
inexplicable universal votings and debatings of these Ages, an idea
or rather a dumb presumption to the contrary has gone idly
abroad; and at this day, over extensive tracts of the world, poor
human beings are to be found, whose practical belief it is that if
we " vote " this or that, so this or that will thenceforth be....
Practically, men have come to imagine that the Laws of this Universe, like the laws of constitutional countries, are decided by
voting.... It is an idle fancy. The Laws of this Universe, of
which if the Laws of England are not an exact transcript, they
should passionately study to become such, are fixed by the everlasting congruity of things, and are not fixable or changeable by
" voting! "'
"But I find that, contemptuously disregarding all such
protests, the English legislators persevere in their hyperatheistic notion, that an Act of Parliament duly enforced
by State-officers, will work out any object: no question being put whether Laws of Nature permit. I forgot to ask
whether they considered that different kinds of food could
be made wholesome or unwholesome by State-decree.
"One thing that struck me, was the curious way in
which the members of their House of Commons judge of
each others' capacities.  Many who expressed opinions of
the crudest kind, or trivial platitudes, or worn-out superstitions, were very civilly treated.  Follies as great as
that but a few years since uttered by one of their ministers, who said that free trade was contrary to common
sense, were received in silence.  But I was present when
one of their number, who as I thought was speaking very




[90        REPRESENTATIE GOVERNMIET.
rationally, made a mistake in his pronunciation-made
what they call a wrong quantity; and immediately there
arose a shout of derision. It seemed quite tolerable that
a member should know little or nothing about the business he was there to transact; but quite intolerable that
he should be ignorant on a point of no moment.
"The English pique themselves on being especially
practical-have a great contempt for theorizers, and profess to be guided exclusively by facts. Before making or
altering a law, it is the custom to appoint a committee of
inquiry, who send for men able to give information concerning the matter in hand, and ask them some thousands
of questions. These questions, and the answers given to
them, are printed in large books, and distributed among
the members of the Houses of Parliament; and I was
told that they spent about ~100,000 a year in thus collecting and distributing evidence. Nevertheless, it appeared
to me that the ministers and representatives of the English people, pertinaciously adhere to theories long ago disproved by the most conspicuous facts. They pay great
respect to petty details of evidence, but of large truths
they are quite regardless. Thus, the experience of age
after age, has shown that their state-management is almost
invariably bad. The national estates are so miserably administered as often to bring loss instead of gain. The
government ship-yards are uniformly extravagant and
inefficient. The judicial system works so ill, that most
citizens will submit to serious losses rather than run risks
of being ruined by law-suits. Countless facts prove the
Government to be the worst owner, the worst manufacturer, the worst trader: in fact, the worst manager, be
the thing managed what it may. But though the evidence of this is abundant and conclusive-though during
a recent war the bunglings of officials were as glaring and
multitudinous as ever; yet the belief that any proposed




GOYERNMENT AS A MANUFACTURER.              19i
duties will be satisfactorily discharged by a new public
department appointed to them, seems not a whit the
weaker. Legislators, thinking themselves practical, cling
to the plausible theory of an officially-regulated society,
spite of overwhelming evidence that official regulation
perpetually fails.
"Nay, indeed, the belief seems to gain strength among
these fact-loving English statesmen; notwithstanding the
facts are against it.  Proposals for State-control over this
and the other, have been of late more rife than ever.
And, most remarkable of all, their representative assembly
lately listened with grave faces to the assertion, made by
one of their high authorities, that State-workshops are
more economical than private workshops.  Their prime
minister, in defending a recently-established arms-factory,
actually told them  that at one of their arsenals, certain
missiles of war were manufactured not only better than
by the trade, but at about one-third the price; and added,' so it would be in all things.' The English being a trading
people, who must be tolerably familiar with the usual
rates of profits among manufacturers, and the margin for
possible economy, the fact that they should have got for
their chief representative one so utterly in the dark on
these matters, struck me as a wonderful result of the representative system.
"I did not inquire much further, for it was manifest
that if these were really their wisest men, the English
were not a wise people."
Representative government, then, cannot be called a
success, in so far as the choice of men is concerned. Those
it puts into power are the fittest neither in respect of their
interests, their culture, nor their wisdom. And as a consequence, partly of this and partly of its complex and
eumbrous nature, representative government is any thing
9




192         REPRESENTATIVE GOVERNMENT.
but efficient for administrative purposes. In these respects
it is manifestly inferior to monarchical government. This
has the advantage of simplicity; which is always conducive to efficiency. And it has the further advantage that
the power is in the hands of one who is directly concerned
in the good management of national affairs: seeing that
the continued maintenance of his power-nay, often his
very life-depends on this. For his own sake a monarch
chooses the wisest councillors he can find, regardless of
class-distinctions. His interest in getting the best help, is
too great to allow of prejudices standing between him and
a far-seeing man.  We see this abundantly illustrated.
Did not the kings of France take Richelieu, and Mazarin,
and Turgot to assist them?  Had not Henry VIII. his
Wolsey, Elizabeth her Burleigh, James his Bacon, Cromwell his Milton?  And where not these men of greater
calibre than those who hold the reins under our constitutional regime?  So strong is the motive of an autocrat to
make use of ability wherever it exists, that he will take
even his barber into council if he finds him a clever fellow.
Besides choosing them for ministers and advisers, he seeks
out the most competent men for other offices. Napoleon
raised his marshals from the ranks; and owed his military
success in great part to the readiness with which he saw
and availed himself of merit wherever found. We have
recently seen in Russia, how prompt was the recognition
and promotion of engineering talent in the case of Todtleben; and know to our cost how greatly the prolonged defence of Sebastopol was due to this.
In the marked contrast to these cases supplied by our
own army, in which genius is ignored while muffs are
holoured-in which wealth and caste make the advance
of plebeian merit next to impossible-and in which jealousies between Queen's service and Company's service
render the best generalship almost unavailable-we see




WHERE DESPOTISM IS ADVANTAGEOUS.         193
that the representative system fails in the officering of its
executive, as much as in the officering of its legislative. A
striking antithesis between the actions of the two forms
of government, is presented in the evidence given before
the Sebastopol Committee respecting the supply of huts
to the Crimean army-evidence showing that while, in
his negotiations with the English Government, the contractor for the huts met with nothing but vacillation, delay, and official rudeness; the conduct of the French Government was marked by promptitude, decision, sound
judgment, and great civility. Every thing goes to show
that for administrative  efficiency, autocratic power is
the best. If your aim is a well-organized army-if you
want to have sanitary departments, and  educational
departments, and charity-departments, managed in a business-like way-if you would have society actively regulated by staffs of State-agents; then by all means choose
that system of complete centralization which we call
despotism.
Probably, notwithstanding the hints dropped at the
outset, most have read the foregoing pages with surprise.
Very likely some have referred to the cover of the BReview,
to see whether they have not, in mistake, taken up some
other than the " Westminster; " while some may, perhaps,
have accompanied their perusal by a running commentary
of epithets condemnatory of our seeming change of principles. Let them not be alarmed. We have not in the
least swerved from the confession of faith set forth in our
prospectus.  On the contrary, as we shall shortly show,
our adhesion to free institutions is as strong as ever-nay,
has even gained strength through this apparently antagonistic criticism.
The subordination of a nation to a man, is not a wnolewome but a vicious state of things: needful, indeed, for a




194         REPRESENTATIVE GOVERNMENT.
vicious humanity; but to be outgrown as fast as may be.
The instinct which makes it possible is any thing but a
noble one. Call it " hero-worship," and it looks respecta.
ble. Call it what it is-a blind awe and fear of power, no
matter of what kind, but more especially of the brutal
kind; and it is by no means to be admired. Watch it in
early ages deifying the cannibal chief; singing the praises
of the successful thief; commemorating the most bloodthirsty warriors; speaking with reverence of those who
had shown undying revenge; and erecting altars to such
as carried furthest the vices which disgrace humanity;
and the illusion disappears.  Read how, where it was
strongest, it immolated crowds of victims at the tomb of
the dead king-how, at the altars raised to its heroes, it
habitually sacrificed prisoners and children to satisfy their
traditional appetite for human flesh-how it produced that
fealty of subjects to rulers which made possible endless
aggressions, battles, massacres, and horrors innumerablehow it has mercilessly slain those who would not lick the
dust before its idols;-read all this, and the feeling no
longer seems so worthy an one.  See it'in later days
idealizing the worst as well as the best monarchs; receiving assassins with acclamation; hurrahing before successful treachery; rushing to applaud the procession and
shows and ceremonies wherewith effete power strengthens
itself; and it looks far from laudable.  Autocracy presupposes inferiority of nature on the part of both ruler
and  subject: on the  one side a cold, unsympathetic
sacrificilng of others' wills to self-will; on the other
side a mean, cowardly abandonment of the claims of
manhood.
Our very language bears testimony to this. Do not
dignity, independence, and other words of approbation,
imply a nature at variance with this relation? Are not
tyrannical, arbitary, despotic, epithets of reproach? and




IERO-WORSHTP UNMASKED.              195
ale not truckling, fawning, cringing, epithets of contempt? Is not slavish a condemnatory term? Does not
servile, that is, serf-like, imply littleness, meanness? And
has not the word villain, which originally meant bondsman, come to signify every thing which is hateful? That
language should thus inadvertently embody the dislike of
mankind for those who most display the instinct of subordination, is alone sufficient proof that this instinct is
associated with evil dispositions. It has been the parent
of countless crimes. It is answerable for the torturing
and murder of the noble-minded who would not submitfor the horrors of Bastiles and Siberias. It has ever been
the represser of knowledge, of free thought, of true progress. In all times it has fostered the vices of courts, and
made those vices fashionable throughout nations. With a
George IV. on the throne, it weekly tells ten thousand
lies, in the shape of prayers for a " most religious and gracious king."  And even now it is daily guilty of falsehood, in selling and buying portraits which every one
knows to be utterly untrue. Whether you read the annals of the far past-whether you look at the various uncivilized races dispersed over the globe-or whether you
contrast the existing nations of Europe; you equally find
that submission to authority decreases as morality and intelligence increase. From ancient warrior-worship down
to modern flunkeyism, the sentiment has ever been strongest where human nature has been vilest.
This relation between barbarism and loyalty, is one of
those beneficent arrangements which "the servant and
interpreter of nature" everywhere meets with. The subordination of many to one, is a form of society needful for
men so long as their natures are savage, or anti-social;
and that it may be maintained, it is needful that they
should have an extreme awe of the one. Just in propor.
lion as their conduct to each other is such as to breed per




L96         REPRESENTATIVE GOVERNMIENT.
petual antagonism, endangering social union; just in that
proportion must there be a reverence for the strong,
determined, cruel ruler, who alone can repress their ex.
plosive natures, and keep them from mutual destruction
Among such a people any form of free government-presupposing as it does some share of equitable feeling and
self-control in those concerned-is an impossibility: there
must be a despotism  as stern as the people are savage;
and that such a despotism may exist, there must be a superstitious worship of the despot. But fast as the discipline of social life modifies the human character-as fast as,
through lack of use, the old predatory, aggressive instincts
dwindle-as fast as, by constant exercise, the sympathetic
feelings grow; so fast does this hard rule become less
necessary; so fast does the authority of the ruler diminish; so fast does the awe of him disappear. From being
originally god, or demi-god, he comes at length to be a
very ordinary person; liable to be criticized, ridiculed,
caricatured.
Various influences conspire to this result. Accumulating knowledge gradually divests the ruler of those supernatural attributes at first ascribed to him. The conceptions which developing science gives of the grandeur of
creation, as well as the constancy and irresistibleness of
its Omnipresent Cause, make all feel the comparative
littleness of human power; and the awe once felt for the
great man, is, by degrees, transferred to that Universe of
which the great man is seen to form but an insignificant
part. Continued increase of population, with its average
percentage of great men, involves the comparative frequency of such; and the more numerous they are, the
less respect can be given to each: they dwarf each other.
As society gets settled and organized, its welfare and pro.
gress become more and more independent of any one. In
a primitive society, the death of a chief may alter the




DECLINE OF DESPOTIC POWER.            197
w hole course of things; but in a society like ours, things
go on much as before, no matter who dies. Thus, many
influences combine to diminish autocratic power, whether
political or other. It is true, not only in the sense in
which Tennyson writes it, but also in a higher sense,
that
" The individual withers, and the world _s more and more."
Further, it is to be noted that while the unlimited
authority of the greatest man ceases to be needful; and
while the superstitious awe which upholds that unlimited
authority dwindles; it at the same time becomes impossible to get the greatest man to the top. In a rude social
state, where might is right, where war is the business of
life, where the qualities required in the ruler, alike for controlling his subjects and defeating his enemies, are bodily
strength, courage, cunning, will, it is easy to pick out the
best; or rather-he picks himself out.  The qualities
which make him the fittest governor for the barbarians
around him, are the qualities by which he gets the mastery over them. But, in an advanced, complex, and comparatively peaceful state like ours, these are not the qualities needed (and even were they needed, the firmly-organized arrangements of society do not allow the possessor
of them to break through to the top). For the rule of a
settled, civilized community, the characteristics required
are-not a love of conquest, but a desire for the general
happiness; not undying hate of enemies, but a calm dispassionate equity; not artful manoeuvring, but philosophic
insight. How is the man most endowed with these to be
found?  In no country is he ordinarily born heir to the
throne; and that he can be chosen out of thirty millions
of people none will be foolish enough to think. The incapacity fbr recognizing the greatest worth, we have
already seen illustrated in our parliamentary elections




[98         REPRESENTATIVE GOV ERNMENT.
And if the few thousands forming a constituency, cannot
pick oat from  among themselves their wisest man; still
less can the millions forming a nation do it. Just as fast
as society becomes populous, complex, peaceful, so fast
does the political supremacy of the best become im
possible.
But even were the relation of autocrat and slave a
morally wholesome one; and even were it possible to find
the fittest man to be autocrat; we should still contend
that such a form of government is bad. We should not
contend this simply on the ground that self-government is
a valuable educator. But we should take the ground that
no human being, however wise and good, is fit to be sole
ruler over the doings of an involved society; and that,
with the best intentions, a benevolent despot is very likely
to produce the most terrible mischiefs, which would else
have been impossible. We will take the case of all others
the most favourable to those who would give supreme
power to the best. We will instance Mr. Carlyle's model
hero-Cromwell. Doubtless there was much in the manners of the times when Puritanism arose, to justify its disgust. Doubtless the vices and follies bequeathed by effete
Catholicism still struggling for existence, were bad enough
to create a reactionary asceticism. It is in the order of
Nature, however, that men's habits and pleasures are not
to be changed suddenly. For any permanent effect to be
produced, it must be produced slowly. Better tastes,
higher aspirations, must be developed; not enforced from
without.
Disaster is sure to result from the withdrawal of lower
gratifications before higher ones have taken their place 
for gratification of some kind is a condition to healthful
existence.  Whatever ascetic morality, or rather immorality, may say, pleasures and pains are the incentives
and restraints by which Nature keeps her progeny from




THE REACTION AFTER CROMWELL.          199
Jesti action. No contemptuous title of " pig-philosophy"
will alter the eternal fact, that Misery is the highway to
Death; while Happiness is added Life, and the giver of
Life. But indignant Puritanism could not see this truth;
and with the extravagance of fanaticism sought to abolish
pleasure in general. Getting into power, it put down not
only questionable amusements, but all others along with
them. And for these repressions, Cromwell, either as
enacting, maintaining, or allowing them, was responsible.
What, now, was the result of this attempt to dragoon
men into virtue? What came when the strong man, who
thought he was thus "helping God to mend all," died?
A dreadful reaction brought in one of the most degraded
periods of our history. Into the newly-garnished house
entered " seven other spirits more wicked than the first."
For generations the English character was lowered: vice
was gloried in, virtue was ridiculed; dramatists made
marriage the stock-subject of laughter; profaneness and
obscenity flourished; high aspirations ceased; the whole
age was corrupt.  Not until George III. reigned was
there a better standard of living. And for this century
of demoralization we have, in great measure, to thank
Cromwell. Is it, then, so clear that the domination of one
man, righteous though he may be, is a blessing?
Lastly, it is to be remarked that when the political
supremacy of the greatest no longer exists in an overt
form, it still continues in a disguised and more beneficent
form. For is it not manifest, that in these latter days the
wise man eventually gets his edicts enforced by others, if
not by himself.  Adam Smith, from his chimney-corner,
dictated greater changes than prime ministers do. A
General Thompson who forges the weapons with which
the Anti-Corn-Law battle is fought-a Cobden and a
Bright who add to and wield them, forward civilization
much more than those who hold sceptres. Repugnant as




200         REPRESENTATIVE GOVERNMENT.
the fact may be to statesmen, it is yet one which cannot
be gainsayed. Whoever, to the great effects already produced by Free-trade, joins the far greater effects that will
be hereafter produced, not only on ourselves but on all
the other nations who must adopt our policy, must see
that the revolution initiated by these men is far wider
than has been initiated by any potentate of modern times.
As Mr. Carlyle very well knows, those who elaborate new
truths and teach them to their fellows, are now-a-days the
real rulers-" the unacknowledged legislators "-the virtual kings. From  afar off, those who sit on thrones and
form cabinets are perceived to be but the servants of such.
And then note that the power thus indirectly exercised, is
no longer a dangerous one; but one that is almost uniformly beneficial. For when, as with ourselves, the dicta
of the Thinker cannot get established in law until after a
long battle of opinion-when they have to prove their
fitness for the Time by conquering Time; we have a
guarantee that no great changes which are ill-considered
or premature can be brought about. We have the good
which great men can do us, while we are saved from the
evil.
No; the old regime has passed away, never to return.
For ourselves at least, the subordination of the many to
the one, has become alike needless, repugnant, and impossible. Good for its time, bad for ours, the ancient "heroworship" is dead; and happily no declamations, be they
never so eloquent, can revive it.
Here seem  to be two irreconcileable positions-two
mutually-destructive arguments. First, a condemnatory
criticism on representative government, and then a still
more condemnatory criticism on monarchical government:
each apparently abolishing the other.
Nevertheless, the paradox is easily explicable.  It is




IN WHAT IT IS THE BEST.            201
quite possible to say all that we have said concerning the
defects of representative government, and still to hold
that it is the best form of government. Nay, it is quite
possible to derive a more profound conviction of its
superiority from the very evidence which appears so unfavourable to it.
For nothing that we have urged tells against its goodness as a means of securing justice between man and man,
or class and class. Abundant evidence shows that the
maintenance of equitable relations among its subjects,
which forms the essential business of a ruling power, is
surest when the ruling power is of popular origin; notwithstanding the defects to which such a ruling power is
liable. For discharging the true function of a government,
representative government is shown to be the best, alike
by its origin, its theory, and its results. Let us glance at
the facts under these three heads.
Alike in Spain, in England, and in France, popular
power embodied itself as a check upon kingly tyranny,
that is-kingly injustice. The earliest accounts we have
of the Spanish Cortes, say that it was their office to advise
the King; and to follow their advice was his duty.
They petitioned, remonstrated, complained of grievances,
and supplicated for redress. The King, having acceded
to their requirements, swore to observe them; and it was
agreed that any act of his in contravention of the statutes
thus established, should be "respected as the King's commands, but not executed, as contrary to the rights and
privileges of the subject."  In all which we see very
clearly that the special aim of the Cortes was to get rectified the injustices committed by the King or others;
that the King was in the habit of breaking the promises
of amendment he made to them; and that they had
to adopt measures to  enforce the fulfilment of hia
promises.




202         EEPRESENTATIVE GOVERNMENT.
In England we trace analogous facts. The Barons
who bridled the tyranny of King John, though not
formally appointed, were virtually impromptu representatives of the nation; and in their demand that justice
should neither be sold, denied, nor delayed, we discern
the social evils which led to this taking of the power into
their own hands. In early times the knights and burgesses, summoned by the King with the view of getting
supplies from them, had for their especial business to obtain from him the redress of grievances, that is-the execution of justice; and in their eventually-obtained and
occasionally-exercised power of withholding supplies until
justice was granted, we see both the need there was for
remedying the iniquities of autocracy, and the adaptation
of representative institutions to this end. And the further
development of popular power latterly obtained, originated from the demand for fairer laws-fbr less class-privilege, class-exemption, class-injustice: a fact which the
speeches of the Reform-Bill agitation abundantly prove.
In France, again, representative government grew into a
definite form under the stimulus of unbearable oppression.
WYhen the accumulated extortion of centuries had reduced
the mass of the people to misery-when millions of haggard faces were seen throughout the land-when starving complainants were hanged on "a gallows forty feet
high "-when the exactions and cruelties of good-for-nothing kings and vampyre-nobles had brought the nation to
the eve of dissolution; there came, as a remedy, an assenbly of men.elected by the people.
That, considered d priori, representative government
is fitted for establishing just laws, is implied by the una
nimity with which Spanish, English, and French availed
themselves of it to this end; as well as by the endeavours
latterly made by other European nations to do the like.
The rationale of the matter is simple enough. Manifestly




THE BEST FOR EFFECTING JUSTICE.          203
on the average of cases, a man will protect his own interests more solicitously than others will protect them for
imn.  Manifestly, where regulations have to be made
affecting the interests of several men, they are most likely
to be equitably made when all those concerned are present, and have equal shares in the making of them. And
manifestly, where those concerned are so numerous and so
dispersed, that it is physically impossible for them all to
take part in the framing of such regulations, the next best
thing is for the citizens in each locality to appoint one of
their number to speak for them, to care for their claims,
to be their representative. The general principle is, that
the welfare of all will be most secure when each looks
after his own welfare; and the principle is carried out as
directly as the circumstances permit. It is inferable, alike
from  human nature and from history, that a single man
cannot be trusted with the interests of a nation of men,
where his real or imagined interests clash with theirs. It
is similarly inferable from human nature and from history,
that no small section of a nation, as the nobles, can be expected to consult the welfare of the people at large in preference to their own. And it is further inferable that only
in a general diffusion of political power, is there a safeguard for the general welfare.
This has all along been the conviction under which
representative government has been advocated, maintained, and extended. From  the early writs that summoned the members of the Iouse of Commons-writs
which declared it to be a most equitable rule that the laws
which concerned all should be approved of by all-down
to the reasons now urged by the unenfranchised for a participation in political power; this is the implied theory.
Observe, nothing is said about wisdom or administrative
ability.  From  the beginning, the end in view has been
justice.'Whether we consider the question in the abstract,




204         REPRESENTATIVE GOVERNMENT.
or whether we examine the opinions men have entertained
upon it from old times down to the present day, we equally
see the theory of representative government to be, that
it is the best means of insuring equitable social relations.
And do not the results justify the theory? Did not
our early Parliaments, after long-continued struggles,
succeed in curbing the licentious exercise of royal power;
and in establishing the rights of the subject? Are not
the comparative security and justice enjoyed under our
form of government, indicated by the envy with which
other nations regard it? Was not the election of the
French Constituent Assembly followed by the sweeping
away of the grievous burdens that weighed down the people-by the abolition of tithes, seignorial dues, gabelle,
excessive preservation of game-by the withdrawal of
numerous feudal privileges and immunities-by the manumission of the slaves in the French colonies? And has
not that extension of our own electoral system embodied
in the Reform-Bill, brought about more equitable arrangements?-as witness the repeal of the Corn-Laws, and
the equalization of probate and legacy duties.  The
proofs are undeniable. It is clear, both d priori and d
posteriori, that representative government is especially
adapted for the establishment and maintenance of just
laws.
And now mark that the objections to representative
government awhile since urged, scarcely tell against it at
all, so long as it does not exceed this comparatively limited function. Though its mediocrity of intellect makes
it incompetent to oversee and regulate the countless involved processes which make up the national life; it
nevertheless has quite enough intellect to enact and enforce those simple principles of equity which underlie the
right conduct of citizens to each other. These are such




WHAT rr IS FITTED TO DO.            20 
flhat the commonest minds in a civilized community can
understand their chief applications.  Stupid as may be
the average elector, he can see the propriety of such regulations as shall prevent men from murdering and robbing
each other; he can understand the fitness of laws which
enforce the payment of debts; he can perceive the need of
measures to prevent the strong from tyrannizing over the
weak; and he can feel the rectitude of a judicial system
that is the same for rich and poor. The average representative may be but of small capacity, but he is competent,
under the leadership of his wiser fellows, to devise appli
ances for carrying out these necessary restraints; or rather
-he is competent to uphold the set of appliances slowly
elaborated by the many generations of his predecessors,
and to do something towards improving and extending
them in those directions where the need is most manifest.
It is true that even these small demands upon electoral
and senatorial wisdom are but imperfectly met.
But though constituencies are blind to the palpable
truth, that if they would escape laws which favour the
nobility at the expense of the commonalty, they must
cease to choose representatives from among the nobility;
yet when the injustice of this class-legislation is glaringas in the case of the Corn-Laws-they have sense enough
to use means for getting it abolished. And though most
legislators have not sufficient penetration to perceive that
the greater part of the evils which they attempt to cure
by official inspection and regulation, would disappear
were there a certain, prompt, and cheap administration of
justice; yet, the County-Courts-Act, and other recent
law-reforms, show that they do eventually recognize the
importance of more efficient judicial arrangements. While,
therefore, the lower average of intelligence which necessarily characterizes representative government, unfits it for
Jischarging the complex business of regulating the entire




306          REPRESENTATIVE GOVERNMIENT.
national life; it does not unfit it for discharging the comr
paratively simple duties of protector. Again, in respect
of this original, all-essential function of a government,
there is a much clearer identity of interest between representative and citizen, than in respect of the multitudinous
other functions which governments undertake. Though it
is generally of but little consequence to the member of
Parliament whether state-teachers, state-preachers, stateofficers of health, state-dispensers of charity, etc., do their
work well; it is of great personal consequence to him that
life and property should be secure: and hence he is more
likely to care for the efficient administration of justice,
than for the efficient administration of any thing else.
Moreover, the complexity, incongruity of parts, and
general cumbrousness which deprive a representative government of that activity and decision required for paternally superintending the affairs of thirty millions of citizens; do not deprive it of the ability to establish and
maintain the regulations by which these citizens are prevented from trespassing against each other. For the principles of equity are permanent as well as simple; and once
having been legally embodied in their chief outlines, all
that devolves on a government is to develop them more
perfectly, and improve the appliances for enforcing them:
an undertaking for which the slow and involved action of
a representative government does not unfit it. So that
while by its origin, theory, and results, representative
government is shown to be the best for securing justice
between class and class, as well as between man and man;
the objections which so strongly tell against it in all its
other relations to society, do not tell against it in this fundamental relation.
Thus, then, we reach the solution of the paradox.
Here is the reconciliation between the two seemingly con.
tradictory positions awhile since taken. To the question



THE'URE SCIENCE OF THE SUBJECI.          20o
Wlhat is representative government good for? our reply
is-It is good, especially good, good above all others, for
doing the thing which a government should do. It is bad,
especially bad, bad above all others, for doing the things
which a government should not do.
One point remains.  We said, some distance back,
that not only may representative government be the best,
notwithstanding its many conspicuous deficiencies; but
that it is even possible to discern in these very deficiencies
further proofs of its superiority.  The conclusion just arrived at, implying, as it does, that these deficiencies tend
to hinder it from doing the things which no government
should do, has already furnished a key to this strangelooking assertion.  But it will be well here to make a
more specific justification of it. This brings us to the
pure science of the matter.
The ever-increasing complexity which characterizes advancing societies, is a complexity that results from the
multiplication of different parts performing different duties. The doctrine of the division of labour, is now-a-days
understood by most to some extent; and most know that
by this division of labour, each operative, each manufacturer, each town, each district, is constantly more and
more restricted to one kind of work.  Those who study
the organization of living bodies, find the uniform process
of development to be, that each organ gradually acquires
a definite and limited function: there arises, step by step,
a more perfect "phys'ological division of labour."  And
in an article on "Progress: its Law and Cause," published
in our April number, we pointed out that this increasing
specialization of functions which goes on in all organized
bodies, social as well as individual, is one of the manifestations of a still more general process pervading creation,
inorganic as well as organic.




808         REPRESENTATIVE GOVERNMENT.
Now this specialization of functions, which is the law
of all organization, has a twofold implication.  At the
same time that each part grows adapted to the particular
duty it has to discharge, it grows unadapted to all other
duties. The becoming especially fit for one thing, is a becoming less fit than before for every thing else. We have
not space here to exemplify this truth. Any modern work
on physiology, however, will furnish the reader with
abundant illustrations of it, as exhibited in the evolution
of living creatures; and as exhibited in the evolution of
societies, it may be studied in the writings of political
economists.  All which we wish here to point out is, that
the governmental part of the body politic exemplifies this
truth equally with its other parts. In virtue of this universal law, a government cannot gain ability to perform
its special work, without losing such ability as it had to
perform other work.
This then is, as we say, the pure science of the matter.
The original and essential office of a government is that
of protecting its subjects against aggression.  In low, undeveloped forms of society, where yet there is but little
differentiation of parts, and little specialization of functions,
this essential work, discharged with extreme imperfection,
is joined with endless other work: the government has a
controlling action over all conduct, individual and socialregulates dress, food, ablutions, prices, trade, religionexercises unbounded power. In becoming so constituted
as to discharge better its essential function, the government becomes more limited alike in the power and the
habit of doing other things.  Increasing ability to perform its true duty, involves increasing inability to perform
all other kinds of action. And this conclusion, deducible
fiom the universal law of organization, is the conclusion
to which inductive reasoning has already led us. We
have seen that, whether considered in theory or practice,




'HILOSOPHIC CLAIMS OF THE DISCUSSION.    209
representative government is the best for securing justice.
We have also seen that, whether considered in theory or
practice, it is the worst for all other purposes. And here
we find that this last characteristic is a necessary accom
paniment of the first. These various incapacities, which
seem to tell so seriously against the goodness of representative government, are but the inevitable consequences
Df its more complete adaptation to its proper work; and,
so understood, are themselves indications that it is the
form of government natural to a more highly-organized
and advanced social state.
We do not expect this consideration to weigh much
with those whom it most concerns. Truths of so abstract
a character find no favour with senates. The metamorphosis we have described is not mentioned in Ovid. History as at present written, makes no comments on it.
There is nothing about it to be found in blue-books and
committee-reports.  Neither is it proved by statistics.
Evidently, then, it has but small chance of recognition
by the " practical " legislator. But to the select few who
study the Social Science, properly so called, we commend
this general fact as one of the highest significance. Those
who know something of the general laws of life, and who
perceive that these general laws of life underlie all social
phenomena, will see that this dual change in the character
of advanced governments, involves an answer to the first
of all political questions. They will see that this specialization in virtue of which an advanced government gains
power to perform one function, while it loses power to
perform others, clearly indicates the true limitations of
State-duty. They will see that, even leaving out all other
evidence, this fact alone shows conclusively what is the
proper sphere of legislation.




VI
PRISON-ETHICS.
r    IE two antagonist theories of morals, like many
J   other antagonist theories, are both right and both
wrong. The d priori school has its truth; the d posteriori
school has its truth; and for the proper guidance of conduct, there must be due recognition of both. On the one
hand, it is asserted that there is an absolute standard of
rectitude; and, respecting certain classes of actions, it is
rightly so asserted. From  the fundamental laws of life
and the conditions of social existence, are deducible certain imperative limitations to individual action-limitations which are essential to a perfect life, individual and
social; or, in other words, essential to the greatest possible happiness. And these limitations, following inevitably
as they do from undeniable first principles, deep as the
nature of life itself, constitute what we may distinguish as
absolute morality.
On the other hand, it is contended, and in a sense
rightly contended, that with men as they are, and society
as it is, the dictates of absolute morality are impracticable.
Legal control, which involves the infliction of pain, alike
on those who are restrained and on those who pay the
lost of restraining them, is proved by this fact to be not




RELATIVE AND ABSOLUTE RIGHT.          211
Absolutely moral; seeing that absolute morality is the
regulation of conduct in such way that pain shall not be
inflicted. Wherefore, if it be admitted that legal control
is at present indispensable, it must be admitted that these
d priori rules cannot be immediately carried out. And
nence it follows that we must adapt our laws and actions
to the existing character of mankind-that we must estimate the good or evil resulting from this or that arrangement, and so reach, d posteriori, a code fitted for the time
being. In short, we must fall back on expediency. NSow,
each of these positions being valid, it is a grave mistake
to adopt either to the exclusion of the other. They should
be respectively appealed to for mutual qualification. Progressing civilization, which is of necessity a succession of
compromises between old and new, requires a perpetual
readjustment of the compromise between the ideal and
the practicable in social arrangements: to which end both
elements of the compromise must be kept in view. If it
is true that pure rectitude prescribes a system of things
far too good for men as they are; it is not less true that
mere expediency does not of itself tend to establish a sys
tem of things any better than that which exists. While
absolute morality owes to expediency the checks which
prevent it from rushing into utopian absurdities; expediency is indebted to absolute morality for all stimulus to
improvement.
Granted that we are chiefly interested in ascertaining
what is relatively right; it still follows that we must first
consider what is absolutely right; since the one conception presupposes the other. That is to say, though we
must ever aim to do what is best for the present times, yet
we must ever bear in mind what is abstractedly best; so
that the changes we make may be towards it, and not away
from it. Unattainable as pure rectitude is, and may long
continue to be, we must keep an eye on the compass whic}




212                 PRISON-ETHICS.
tells us whereabout it lies; or we shall otherwise be liable
to wander in some quite opposite direction.
Illustrations from our recent history will show very
conclusively, we think, how important it is that considerations of abstract expediency should be joined with those
of concrete expediency-how immense would be the evils
avoided and the benefits gained, if d posteriori morality
were enlightened by d priori morality. Take first the
case of free trade. Until recently it has been the practice
of all nations in all times, artificially to restrict their commerce with other nations.  Throughout past centuries
this course may have been defensible as conducing to
safety. Without saying that lawgivers had the motive of
promoting industrial independence, it may yet be said
that in ages when national quarrels were perpetual, it
would not have been well for any people to be much dependent on others for necessary commodities. But though
there is this ground for asserting that commercial restric
tions were once expedient, it cannot be asserted that our
corn-laws were thus justified: it cannot be alleged that
the penalties and prohibitions which, until lately, hampered our trade, were needful to prevent us from being
industrially disabled by a war. Protection in all its forms
was established and maintained for other reasons of expediency; and the reasons for which it was opposed and
finally abolished were also those of expediency. Calculations of immediate and remote consequences were set
forth by the antagonist parties; and the mode of decision was by a balancing of these various anticipated con
sequences.
And what, after generations of mischievous legislation
and long years of arduous struggle, was the conclusion
arrived at, and since justified by the results? Exactly the
one which abstract equity plainly teaches. The moral
course proves to be the politic course. That ability to




INDICATIONS OF ABSOLUTE MORALITY.       213
exercise the faculties, the total denial of which causes
death-that liberty to pursue the objects of desire, without which there cannot be complete life-that freedom of
action which his nature prompts every individual to claim,
and on which equity puts no limit save the like freedom
of action of other individuals, involves, among other corollaries, freedom of exchange. Government which, in protecting citizens from murder, robbery, assault, or other
aggression, shows us that it has the all-essential function
of securing to each this free exercise of faculties within
the assigned limits, is called on, in the due discharge of its
function, to maintain this freedom of exchange; and cannot abrogate it without reversing its function, and becoming  aggressor instead  of protector.  Thus, absolute
morality would all along have shown in what direction
legislation should tend. Qualified only by the consideration that in turbulent times they must not be so carried
out as to endanger national life, through suspensions in
the supply of necessaries, these d priori principles would
have guided statesmen, as fast as circumstances allowed,
towards the normal condition. We should have been
s-ved from thousands of needless Fs.trictions. Such restrictions as were needful would have been abolished as
soon as was safe.  An enormous amount of suffering
would have been prevented. That prosperity which we
now enjoy would have commenced much sooner.  And
our present condition would have been one of far greater
power, wealth, happiness, and morality.
Our railway-politics furnish another instance. A vast
loss of national capital has been incurred, and great misery
has been inflicted, in consequence of the neglect of a simple principle clearly dictated by abstract justice. Whoso
enters into a contract, though he is bound to do that
which the contract specifies, is not bound to do some other
thing which is neither specified nor implied in the cou




214                  PRISON-ETHICS.
tract.  We do not appeal to moral perception only iL
warranty of this position. It is one deducible from that
first principle of equity which, as above pointed out, follows from the laws of life, individual and social; and it is
one which the accumulated experience of mankind has so
uniformly justified, that is has become a tacitly-recognized doctrine of civil law among all nations. In cases ot
dispute respecting agreements, the question brought to
trial always is, whether the terms of the agreement bind
one or other of the contracting parties to do this or that;
and it is assumed as a matter of course, that neither of
them can be called upon to do more than is expressed or
understood in the agreement.
Now, this almost self-evident principle has been wholly
ignored in railway-legislation.  A  shareholder, uniting
with others to make and work a line from one specified
place to another specified place, binds himself to pay certain sums in furtherance of the project; and, by implication, agrees to yield to the majority of his fellow-shareholders on all questions raised respecting the execution of
this project. But he commits himself no further than this.
He is not required to obey the majority concerning things
not named in the deed of incorporation. Though with
respect to the specified railway he has bound himself, he
has not bound himself with respect to any unspecified
railway which his co-proprietors may wish to make: and
he cannot be committed to such unspecified railway by a
vote of the majority. But this distinction has been wholly
passed over.  Shareholders in joint-stock undertakings,
have been perpetually involved in various other undertakings subsequently decided on by their fellow-shareholders; and against their will have had their properties
heavily mortaged for the execution of projects that were
ruinously unremunerative. In every case the proprietary
contract for making a particular railway, has been dealt




REQUIREMENTS OF ABSOLUTE ETHICS.        215
with as though it were a proprietary contract for making
railways! Not only have directors thus misinterpreted
it, and not only have shareholders foolishly allowed it to
be thus misinterpreted; but legislators have so little un
derstood their duties, as to have constantly endorsed the
misinterpretation. To this simple cause has been owing
most of our railway-companies' disasters.  Abnormal
facilities for getting capital have caused reckless competition ill extension-making and branch-making, and the projection of needless opposition lines, got up to be purchased
by the companies they threatened. Had each new scheme
been executed by an independent body of shareholders,
without any guarantee from  another company-without
any capital raised by preference-shares, there would have
been little or none of the ruinous expenditure we have
seen. Something like a hundred millions of money would
have been saved, and thousands of families preserved from
misery, had the proprietary-contract been enforced according to the dictates of pure equity.
We think these cases go far to justify our position.
The general reasons we gave for thinking that the ethics
of immediate experience must be enlightened by abstract
ethics, to ensure correct guidance, are strongly enforced
by these instances of the gigantic errors that are made
when abstract ethics are ignored.  The complex esti.
mates of relative expediency, cannot do without the
clue furnished by the simple deductions of absolute expediency.
We propose to study the treatment of criminals from
this point of view. And first, let us set down those temporary requirements which have hitherto prevented, and
do still, in part, prevent the establishment of a perfectly
just system.
The same average popular character which necessitates
10




216                  PRISON-ETHICS.
a rigorous form of government, necessitates also a rigor
nus criminal code. Institutions are ultimately determined
by the natures of the citizens living under them; and when
these citizens are too impulsive or selfish for free institutions, and unscrupulous enough to supply the requisite staff
of agents for maintaining tyrannical institutions, they are
proved by implication to be citizens who will both tolerate, and will probably need, severe forms of punishment.
The same mental defect underlies both results. The char.
acter which originates and sustains political liberty, is a
character swayed by remote considerations-a character
not at the mercy of immediate temptations, but one which
contemplates the consequences likely to arise in future.
We have only to remember that, among ourselves, a
political encroachment is resisted, not because of any direct evil it inflicts, but because of the evils likely hereafter to flow from it, to see how the maintenance of freedom
presupposes the habit of weighing distant results, and
being chiefly guided by them.
Conversely, it is manifest that men who dwell only in
the present, the special, the concrete-who do not realize
with clearness the contingencies of the future-will put
little value on those rights of citizenship which profit them
nothing, save as a means of warding off unspecified evils
that can possibly affect them only at a distant time in an
obscure way. Well, is it not obvious that the forms of
mind thus contrasted, will require different kinds of punishment for misconduct?  To restrain the second, there
must be penalties that are severe, prompt, and specific
enough to be vividly conceived; while the first may be
deterred by penalties that are less definite, less intense,
less immediate.  For the more civilized, dread of a long,
monotonous, criminal discipline may suffice; but for the less
civilized there must be inflictions of bodily pain and death.
Thus we hold, not only that a social condition which gen.




WHEN PENAL CODES MUST BE SEVERER.    217
erates a harsh form of government, also of necessity gen.
erates harsh retributions; but also, that in such a social
condition, harsh retributions are requisite. And there are
facts which illustrate this. Witness the case of one of the
Italian states, in which the punishment of death having
been abolished in conformity with the wish of a dying
duchess, assassinations increased so greatly that it became
needful to reestablish it.
Besides the fact that in the less-advanced stages of
civilization, a bloody penal code is both a natural product
of the time, and a needful restraint for the time; there
must be noted the fact that a more equitable and humane
code could not be carried out from want of fit administration. To deal with delinquents, not by short and sharp
methods, but by such methods as abstract justice indicates, implies a class of agencies too complicated to exist
under a low social state, and a class of officers more trustworthy than can be found among the citizens in such a
state. Especially would the equitable treatment of criminals be impracticable where the amount of crime was very
great. The number to be dealt with would be unmanageable. Some simpler method of purging the community
of its worst members becomes, under such circumstances,
a necessity.
The inapplicability of an absolutely just system of
penal discipline to a barbarous or semi-barbarous people,
is thus, we think, as manifest as is the inapplicability of
an absolutely just form of government to them. And in
the same manner that, for some nations, a despotism  is
warranted; so may a criminal code of the extremest
severity be warranted. In either case the defence is, that
the institution is as good as the average character of the
people permits-that less stringent institutions would entail social confusion and its far more severe evils. Bad as
a despotism is, yet where anarchy is the only alternative,




218                  PRISON-ETHICS.
we must say that, as anarchy would bring greater suffer
ing than despotism brings, despotism is justified by the
circumstances.  And similarly, however inequitable in
the abstract were the beheadings, hangings, and burnings
of ruder ages, yet, if it be shown that, without penalties
thus extreme, the safety of society could not have been
insured-if, in their absence, the increase of crime would
have inflicted a larger total of evil, and that, too, on
peaceable members of the community; theirn it follows that
morality warranted this severity. In the one case, as in
the other, we must say that, measured by the quantities
of pain respectively inflicted and avoided, the course pursued was the least wrong; and to say that it was the least
wrong is to say that it was relatively right.
But while we thus admit all that can be alleged by
the defenders of Draconian codes, we go on to assert a
correlative truth  which they overlook.  While fully
recognizing the evils that must follow  the premature
establishment of a penal system dictated by pure equity,
let us not overlook the evils that have arisen from
altogether rejecting the guidance of pure equity. Let us
note how terribly the one-sided regard for immediate expediency has retarded the ameliorations from time to time
demanded.
Consider, for instance, the immense amount of suffering and demoralization needlessly caused by our severe
laws in the last century. Those many merciless penalties
which Romilly and others succeeded in abolishing, were
&s little justified by social necessities as by abstract
morality. Experience has since proved that to hang men
for theft, was not requisite for the security of property;
and that such a measure was opposed to pure equity,
scarcely needs saying. Evidently, had considerations of
relative expediency been all along qualified by considerations of absolute expediency, these severities, with their




EFFECTS OF BABBAROUS DISCIPLINE.       219
many concomitant evils, would have ceased long before
they did.
Again, the dreadful misery, demoralization, and crime,
generated by the harsh treatment of transported convicts,
would have been impossible had our authorities considered what seemed just as well as what seemed politic.
There would never have been inflicted on transports the
shocking cruelties proved before the Parliamentary Committee of 1848. We should not have had men condemned
to the horrors of the chain-gang even for insolent looks.
There could not have been perpetrated such an atrocity
as that of locking up chain-gangs "from sunset to sunrise
in the caravans or boxes used for this description of prisons, which hold from twenty to twenty-eight men, but in
which the whole number can neither stand upright nor
sit down at the same time, except with their legs at right
angles to their bodies."  Men would never have been
doomed to tortures extreme enough to produce despair,
desperation, and further crimes-tortures under which " a
man's heart is taken from him, and there is given to him
the heart of a beast," as said by one of these law-produced
criminals before his execution. We should not have been
told, as by a chief justice of Australia, that the discipline
was "carried to an extent of suffering, such as to render
death desirable, and to induce many prisoners to seekc i
under its most appalling aspects."  Sir G. Arthur woula
not have had to testify that, in Van Diemen's Land, convicts committed murder for the purpose "of being sent up
to idobart Town for trial, though aware that in the ordinary course they must be executed within a fortnight after
arrival;" nor would tears of commiseration have been
drawn from Judge Burton's eyes, by one of these cruellyused transports placed before him for sentence. In brief,
had abstract equity joined with immediate expediency in
levising convict discipline, not only would untold suffel




220                   PRISON-ETHICS.
ing, degradation, and mortality have been prevented; but
those who were responsible for atrocities like those abovenamed, would not themselves be chargeable with crime,
as we now hold them to be.
Probably we shall meet with a less general assent
when, as a further benefit which the guidance of absolutt
morality would have conferred, we instance the prevention of such methods as those in use at Pentonville.  Iow
the silent and the separate systems are negatived by abstract justice we shall by and by see. For the present,
the position we have to defend is, that these systems are
bad.  That but a moderate percentage of the prisoners
subjected to them  are reconvicted, may be true; though,
considering the fallaciousness of negative statistics, tmia
by no means proves that those not reconvicted are reformed.  But the question is not solely, how many prisoners are prevented from  again committing crime?  A
further question is, how many of them have become selfsupporting members of society? It is notorious that this
prolonged denial of human intercourse not unfrequently
produces insanity or imbecility; and on those who remain sane, its depressing influence must almost of necessity
entail serious debility, bodily and mental.*
Indeed, we think it probable that much of the apparel c
success is due to an enfeeblement which incapacitates for
crime as much as for industry.  Our own objection to
such methods, however, has always been, that their effect
in the moral nature is the very reverse of that required.
Crime is anti-social-is prompted by self-regarding feelings, and checked by social feelings.  The natural prompt* Mr. Baillie-Cochrane says:-" The officers at the Dartmoor prison
inform me that the prisoners who arrive there even after one year's confinement at Pentonville, may be distinguished from the others by their miserable downcast look In most instances their brain is affected, and they are
anable to give sati-f',ctory replie-a to the simplest questions."




BAD EFFECTS OF THE SOLITARY SYSTEM.    221
ei of right conduct to others, and the natural oppolent
of misconduct to others, is sympathy; for out of sympathy
grow both the kindly emotions, and that sentiment of
justice which restrains us from  aggressions.  Well, this
sympathy, which makes society possible, is cultivated by
social intercourse. By habitual participation in the pleasures of others, the faculty is strengthened; and whatever
prevents this participation, weakens it-an effect commonly illustrated in the selfishness of old bachelors.
Hence, therefore, we contend that shutting up prisoners
within themselves, or forbidding all interchange of feeling,
inevitably deadens such sympathies as they have; and so
tends rather to diminish than to increase the moral check
to transgression. This d priori conviction, which we have
iong entertained, we now find confirmed by facts. Captain 3Maconochie states, as a result of observation, that a
long course of separation so fosters the self-regarding
desires, and so weakens the sympathies, as to make even
well-disposed men very unfit to bear the little trials of
domestic life on their return to their homes. Thus there
is good reason to think that, while silence and solitude
may cow the spirit or undermine the energies, it cannot
produce true reformation.
"But how can it be shown," asks the reader, "that
these injudicious penal systems are inequitable?  Where
is the method which will enable us to say what kind of
punishment is justified by absolute morality, and what
kind is not?"  These questions we will now attempt to
1answer.
So long as the individual citizen pursues the objects of
his desires without diminishing the equal freedom of any
of his fellow-citizens to do the like, society cannot equita.
bly interfere with him. While he contents himself with
the benefits win by his own enleraies, and attempts not tc




222                  PRISON-ETHICS.
intercept any of the benefits similarly won for themselves
by others, or any of those which Nature has conferred on
them; no legal penalties can rightly be inflicted on hin.
But when, by murder. theft, assault, or minor aggression,
he has broken through these limits, the community is
warranted alike by absolute and by relative expedience
in putting him under restraint. On the relative expediency of doing this we need say nothing: it is demonstrated by social experience. Its absolute expediency no4
beinr so manifest, we will proceed to point out how it is
deducible from the ultimate laws of life.
All life depends on the maintenance of certain natural
relations between actions and their results.  This is true
of life in both its lowest and its highest forms. If respiration does not supply oxygen to the blood, as in the
normal order of things it should do, but instead supplies
carbonic acid, death very soon results.  If the swallowing
of food is not followed by the usual organic sequencesthe contractions of the stomach, and the pouring into it
of gastric juice-indigestion arises, and the energies flag.
If active movements of the limbs fail in exciting the heart
to supply blood more rapidly, or if the extra current propelled by the heart is greatly retarded by an aneurism
through which  it passes, speedy prostration  ensuesvitality rapidly ebbs. In which, and endless like cases.
we see that bodily life depends on the maintenance of the
established connections between physiological causes and
their consequences.
Among  the intellectual processes, the same thing
holds. If certain impressions made on the senses do not
induce the appropriate muscular adjustments-if the brair
i: clouded with wine, or consciousness is preoccupied, or
the perceptions are naturally obtuse; the bodily movements are so ill-controlled that accidents ensue.  Where,
as in paralytic patients, the natural link between mental




CONDITIONS TO COMPLETE LIFE.          223
nupressions and the appropriate movements is broken, the
life is greatly vitiated. And when, as during insanity,
evidence fitted, according to the usual order of thought,
to produce certain convictions, produces convictions of an
opposite kind; conduct is reduced to chaos, and life endangered or cut short. So it is with the more involved
phenomena. Just as we here find that, throughout both
its physical and intellectual divisions, healthful life implies continuance of the established successions of antecedents and consequents among our vital actions; so shall
we find it throughout the moral division. In our dealings
with external Nature and our fellow men, there are relations of cause and effect, on the maintenance of which, as
on the maintenance of the internal ones above instanced,
complete life depends. Conduct of this or that kind tends
ever to bring results which are pleasurable or painfulaction to bring its appropriate reaction; and the welfare
of every one demands that these natural connections shall
not be interfered with.
To speak more specifically, we see that in the order of
Nature, inactivity entails want; and that, conversely, by
activity are secured the means of material benefit. There
is an ordained connection between exertion and the fulfil
ment of certain imperative needs. If, now, this ordained
connection is broken-if labour of body and mind have
been gone through, and the produce of the labour is intercepted by another, one of the conditions to complete life
is unfulfilled. The defrauded person is physically injured
by deprival of the wherewithal to make good the wear
and tear he had undergone; and if the robbery be continually repeated, he must die. Where all men are dishonest a reflex evil results. When, throughout a society,
the natural relation between labour and its produce is
habitually broken, the lives of many are not only directly
undermined; but the lives of all are indirectly under.




224                 PRISON-ETHICS.
mined by the destruction of the motive for labour, and by
the consequent poverty. Thus, to demand that there shall
be no breach of the normal sequence between labour and
the benefits obtained by labour, is to demand that the laws
of life shall be respected.
What we call the right of property, is simply a
corollary from certain necessary conditions to complete
existence: it is a formulated recognition of the necessary
relation between expenditure of force and the need for
Corce-sustaining objects obtainable by the expenditure of
force-a recognition in full of a relation which cannot be
wholly ignored without causing death.  And all else
regarded as individual rights, are indirect implications of
like nature-similarly insist on certain relations between
man and man, as conditions without which there cannot
be completely maintained that correspondence between
inner and outer actions which constitutes life. It is not,
as some moralists have absurdly asserted, that such rights
are derived fiom human legislation; nor is it, as asserted
by others with absurdity almost as great, that there is no
basis for them save the inductions of immediate expediency.  These rights are deducible from the established
connections between our acts and their results. As certainly as there are conditions which must be fulfilled before life can exist, so certainly are there conditions which
must be fulfilled before complete life can be enjoyed by
the respective members of a society; and those which we
call the requirements of justice, simply answer to the most
important of such conditions.
Hence, if life is our legitimate aim-if absolute morality
means, as it does, conformity to the laws of complete life;
then absolute morality warrants the restraint of those who
force their fellow-citizens into non-conformity. Our justification is, that life is impossible save under certain conditions; that it cannot be perfect unless these conditions are




WHAT MAY BE DEMANDED OF THE CRIMINAL.  225
maintained unbroken; and that if it is right for us to
live, it is right for us to remove any one who either
breaks these conditions in our persons or constrains us to
break them.
Such being the basis of our right to coerce the crimi
nal, there next come the questions:-~What is the legiti.
mate extent of the coercion?  Can we from this source
derive authority for certain demands on him? and are
there any similarly-derived limits to such demands?  To
both these questions there are affirmative answers.
First, we find authority for demanding restitution or
compensation.  Conformity to the laws of life being the
substance of absolute morality; and the social regulations
which absolute morality dictates, being those which make
this conformity possible; it is a manifest corollary that
whoever breaks these regulations, may be justly required
to undo, as far as pcssible, the wrong he has done. The
object being to maintain the conditions essential to complete life, it follows that, when one of these conditions has
been transgressed, the first thing to be required of the
transgressor is, that he shall put matters as nearly as may
be in the state they previously were. The property stolen
shall be restored, or an equivalent for it given.  Any
one injured by an assault, shall have his surgeon's bill
paid, compensation for lost time, and also for the suffering lie has borne. And similarly in all cases of infringed
rights.
Second, we are warranted by this highest authority in
restricting the actions of the offender as much as is needful to prevent further aggressions. Any citizen who will
not allow others to fulfil the conditions to complete lifewho takes away the produce of his neighbour's labour, oi
deducts from that bodily health and comfort which his
neighbour has earned by good conduct, must be forced to
resist. And society is warranted in using suchl frce as




226                  PRISON-ETHICS.
may be found requisite. Equity justifies the fellow-citizens of such a man in limiting the free exercise of his faculties to the extent necessary for preserving the free exercise of their own faculties.
But now mark that absolute morality countenances ne
restraint beyond this-no gratuitous inflictions of pain, no
revengeful penalties. Complete life being the end of mo.
rality; and the conditions it insists on being such as make
possible this complete life to all members of a community;
we cannot rightly abrogate thes.e conditions, even in the
person of a criminal, further than is needful to prevent
greater abrogations of them. Freedom to fulfil the laws
of life being the thing insisted on, to the end that the sum
of life may be the greatest possible; it follows that the life
of the offender must be taken into account as an item in this
sum; and that we must permit him to live as completely as
consists with social safety.  It is commonly said that the
criminal loses all his rights. This may be so according to
law, but it is not so according to justice. Such portion of
them only is justly taken away, as cannot be left to him
without danger to the community. Those exercises of
faculty, and consequent benefits, which are possible under
the necessary restraint, cannot be equitably denied.  If
any do not think it proper that we should be thus regard.
ful of an offender's claims, let them consider for a moment
the lesson which Nature reads us.
We do not find that those divinely-ordained laws of
life by which bodily health is maintained,are miraculously
suspended in the person of the prisoner. In him, as in
others, good digestion waits on appetite. If he is wounded, the healing process goes on with the usual rapidity,
When he is ill, as much effect is expected from the vis
medicatrix naturce by the medical officer, as in one who
has not transgressed. His perceptions yield him guidance
as they did before he was imprisoned; and he is capable




THE RIGHT TO COERCION LIMITED.          227.f.nuch the same pleasurable emotions. When we thus
see that the beneficent arrangements of things, are no less
uniformly sustained in his person than in that of another
are we not bound to respect in his person such of these
beneficent arrangements as we have power to thwart? are
we not bound to interfere with the laws of life no further
than is absolutely needful?
If any still hesitate, there is another lesson for them
having the same implication. Whoso disregards any one
of those simpler laws of life out of which, as we have
shown, the moral laws originate, has to bear the evil
necessitated by the transgression-just that, and no more.
If, careless of your footing, you fall, the consequent bruise,
and possibly some constitutional disturbance entailed by
it, are all you have to suffer: there is not the further
gratuitous penalty of a cold or an attack of small-pox. If
you have eaten something which you know to be indigestible, there follow certain visceral derangements and their
concomitants; but, for your physical sin, there is no vengeance in the shape of a broken bone or a spinal affection.
The punishments, in these and other cases, are neither
greater nor less than flow from the natural working of
things.  Well, should we not with all humility follow this
example?   Must we not infer that, similarly, a citizen
who has transgressed the conditions to social welfare,
ought to bear the needful penalties and restraints, but
nothing beyond these. Is it not clear that neither by
absolute morality nor by Nature's precedents, are we
warranted in visiting on him any pains besides those involved in remedying, as far as may be, the evil committed,
and preventing other such evils? To us it seems manifest that if society exceeds this, it trespasses against the
criminal.
Those who think, as mnany will probably do, that we
are tending towards a mischievous leniency, will find that




228                 PRISON-ETHICS.
the next step in our argument disposes of any such
objection; for while equity forbids us to punish the criminal otherwise than by making him suffer the natural consequences, these, when  rigorously enforced, are quite
severe enough.
Society having proved in the high court of absolute
morality, that the offender must make restitution or compensation, and submit to the restraints requisite for public
safety; and the offender having obtained from the same
court the decision, that these restraints shall be no greater
than the specified end requires; society thereupon makes
the further demand that, while living in durance, the
offender shall maintain himself; and this demand absolute
morality at once endorses. The community having taken
measures of self-preservation; and having inflicted on tho
aggressor no punishments or disabilities beyond those in
volved in these necessary measures; is no further con
cerned in the matter. With the support of the prisoner
it has no more to do than before he committed the crime
It is the business of society simply to defend itself against
him; and it is his business to live as well as he can under
the restrictions society is obliged to impose on him. All
he may rightly ask is, to have the opportunity of hlbour
ing, and exchanging the produce of his labour for necessaries; and this claim is a corollary from that already
admitted, that his actions shall not be restricted more
than is needful for the public safety. With these opportunities, however, he must make the best of his position.
He must be content to gain as good a livelihood as the
circumstances permit; and if he cannot employ his powers to the best advantage, if he has to work hard and fare
scantily, these evils must be counted among the penalties
of his transgression-the natural reactions of his wrong
action.
On this self-maintenance equity sternly insists.  The




THE CONVICT SHOLLD EARN HIS SUPPORT.   229
rbusons which justify his imprisonment, equally justify the
refusal to let him have any other sustenance than he earns.
He is confined that he may not further interfere with the
complete living of his fellow-citizens-that he may not
again intercept any of those benefits which the order of
Nature has conferred on them, or any of those procured
by their exertions and careful conduct. And he is required
to support himself for exactly the same reasons-that he
may not interfere with others' complete living-that he
may not intercept the benefits they earn. For, if otherwise, whence must come his food and clothing? Directly
from the public stores, and indirectly from the pockets o.
all tax-payers. And what is the property thus abstracted
from tax-payers? It is the equivalent of so much benefit
earned by labour. It is so much means to complete living. And when this property is taken away-when the
toil has been gone through, and the produce it should
have brought is intercepted by the tax-gatherer on behalf
of the convict-the conditions to complete life are broken:
the convict commits by deputy a further aggression on
his fellow-citizens.
It matters not that such abstraction is made according
to law. We are here considering the dictum  of that
authority which is above law; and which law ought to
enforce. And this dictum we find to be, that each individual shall take the evils and benefits of his own conduct
-that the offender must suffer, as far as is possible, all
pains entailed by his offence; and must not be allowed to
visit part of them on the innocent. Unless the criminal
maintains himself, he indirectly commits an additional
crime. Instead of restitution, he makes a new aggression.
Instead of repairing the breach he has made in the conditions to complete social life, he widens this breach. He
inflicts on others that very injury which the restraint im
posed on him was to prevent. As certainly, therefore, as




230                 PRISON-ETHICS.
such restraint is warranted by absolute morality; so cer
tainly does absolute morality warrant us in refusing him
gratuitous support.
These, then, are the requirements of an equitable penal
system:-That the aggressor shall make restitution or
compensation; that he shall be placed under the restraints
requisite for social security; that neither any restraints
beyond these, nor any gratuitous penalties, shall be inflicted on him; and that while living in confinement, or
under surveillance, he shall maintain himself.  We are
not prepared to say that such dictates may at once be
fully obeyed. Already we have admitted that the deductions of absolute expediency must, in our transition state,
be qualified by the inductions of relative expediency.
We have pointed out that in rude times, the severest
criminal codes were justified by morality; if, without
them, crime could not be repressed and social safety insured. Whence, by implication, it follows that our present methods of treating criminals are warranted, if they
come as near to those of pure equity as circumstances
permit. That any system now feasible must fall short of
the ideal sketched out, is very possible. It may be that
the enforcement of restitution or compensation, is in many
cases impracticable. It may be that on some convicts,
penalties more severe than abstract justice demands must
be inflicted. On the other hand, it may be that entire selfmaintenance would entail on the wholly-unskilled criminal,
a punishment too grievous to be borne. But any such
immediate shortcomings do not affect our argument. All
we insist on is, that the commands of absolute morality
shall be obeyed as far as possible-that we shall fulfil
them up to those limits beyond which experiment proves
that more evil than good results-that, ever keeping in
view the ideal, each change we make shall be towards its
realization




EFFECTS OF HUMANE TREATMENT.                231
Bat now we are prepared to say, that this ideal may
be in great part realized at the present time.  Experience
in various countries, under various circumstances, has
shown that immense benefits result from substituting for
the  old  penal systems, systems that approximate to
that above indicated.   Germany, France, Spain, England, Ireland, and Australia, send statements to the
effect that the most successful criminal discipline, is a
discipline of decreased restraints and increased self
dependence.   And the evidence proves the success to
be greatest, where the nearest approach is made to the
arrangements prescribed by abstract justice.  We shall
find the facts striking: some of them  even astonish
ing.
When AM. Obermair was appointed Governor of the
Munich State-Prison" le found from GOO to 700 prisoners in the jail, in the worst
state of insubordination, and whose excesses, he was told, defied
the harshest and most stringent discipline; the prisoners were all
chained together, and attached to each chain was an iron weight,
which the strongest found difficulty in dragging along. The guard
consisted of about 100 soldiers, who did duty not only at the gates
and around the walls, but also in the passages, and even in the
workshops and dormitories; and, strangest of all protections
against the possibility of an outbreak or individual invasion,
twenty to thirty large savage dogs, of the bloodhound breed, were
let loose at night in the passages and courts to keep their watch
and ward. According to his account the place was a perfect Pandemonium, comprising, within the limits of a few acres, the worst
passions, the most slavish vices, and the most heartless tyranny."
MI. Obermair gradually relaxed this harsh system.  lie
greatly lightened the chains; and would, if allowed, have
thrown them aside.  The dogs, and nearly all the guards
were dispensed with; and the prisoners were treated with
such consideration as to gain their confidence. Mr. Baillie.




232                    PRISON-ETHICS.
Cochrane, who visited the place in 1852, says the prison
gates were'-Wide open, without any sentinel at the door, and a guard of
only twenty men idling away their time in a guard-room off the
entrance-hall.... None of the doors were provided with bolts
and bars; the only security was an ordinary lock, and as in most
of the rooms the key was not turned, there was no obstacle to the
men walking into the passage...... Over each workshop some
of the prisoners with the best characters were appointed overseers, and M. Obermair assured me that if a prisoner transgressed
a regulation, his companions generally told him,' est ist verboten,'
(it is forbidden), and it rarely happened that he did not yield to
the opinion of his fellow-prisoners..... Within the prison walls
every description of work is carried on; the prisoners, divided
into different gangs and supplied with instruments and tools, make
their own clothes, repair their own prison walls, and forge their
own chains, producing various specimens of manufacture which
are turned to most excellent account-the result being, that each
prisoner, by occupation and industry, maintains himself; the surplus of his earnings being given him on his emancipation, avoids
his being parted with in a state of destitution."
And further, the prisoners "associate in their leisure
hours, without any check on their intercourse, but at
the same time under an efficient system of observation
and  control" —an  arrangement by which, after many
years' experience, M. Obermair asserts that morality is increased.
And now what has been the result?  During his six.
years' government of the Kaisers-lauten (the first prison
under his care), M. Obermair discharged 132 criminals, of
which number 123 have since conducted themselves well,
and 7 have been recommitted.  From the IMlnich prison,
between 1843 and 1845, 298 prisoners were discharged.
" Of these, 246 have been restored, improved, to society.
Those whose characters are doubtful, but have not beer




MILD DISCIPLINE SUCCESSFUL.           233
remanded for any criminal act, 26; again under examination, 4; punished by the police, 6; remanded, 8; died, 8."
This statement, says MI. Obermair, " is based on irrefutable evidence."  And to the reality of his success, we have
the testimony not only of Mr. Baillie-Cochrane, but of the
Rev. C. II. Townsend, Mr. George Combe, Mr. Matthew
Hill, and Sir John Milbanke, our Envoy at the Court of
Bavaria.
Take, again, the case of Mettray. Every one has heard
something about Mettray, and its success as a reformatory
of juvenile criminals. Observe how nearly the successful
system  there pursued, conforms to the abstract principles
above enunciated.
This " Colonie Agricole " is " without wall or enclosure
of any sort, for the purposes at least of confinement;" and
except when for some fault a child is temporarily put in a
cell, there is no physical restraint. The life is industrial:
the boys being brought up to trades or agriculture as they
prefer; and all the domestic services being discharged by
them.  "They all do their work by the piece;" are rewarded according to the judgment of the chef d'atelier;
and a portion being placed at the disposal of the child,
the rest is deposited in the savings-bank at Tours. "A
boy in receipt of any money has to make payment for
amy part of his dress which requires to be renewed before
the stated time arrives at which fresh clothing is given
out;..... on the other hand, if his clothes are found in
good condition at such time, he receives the benefit of it
by having the money which would have been laid out in
clothes placed to his account.  Two hours per day are
allowed for play. Part-singing is taught; and if a boy
shows any turn for drawing he receives a little instruction
in it..... Some of the boys also are formed into a fire.
brigade, and have rendered at times substantial assistance
in the neiglhbourhood."  In which few leading facts do we




234                  PRISON-ETHICS.
not clearly see that the essential peculiarities are-no more
restraint than is absolutely necessary; self-support as far
as possible; extra benefits earned by extra labour; and as
much gratifying exercise of faculties as the circumstances
permit.
The "intermediate system" which has of late been
carried out with much success in Ireland, exemplifies, in a
degree, the practicability of the same general principles.
Under this system, prisoners working as artisans are
allowed "such a modified degree of liberty as shall in
various ways prove their power of self-denial and self
dependence, in a manner wholly incompatible with the
rigid restraints of an ordinary prison." An offender who
has passed through this stage of probation, is tested by
employment "on messenger's duties daily throughout the
city, and also in special works required by the department
outside the prison-walls. The performance of the duties
of messengers entails their being out until seven or eight
in the evening, unaccompanied by any officer; and although
a small portion of their earnings is allowed them weekly,
and they would have the power of compromising themselves if so disposed, not one instance has as yet taken
place of the slightest irregularity, or even the want of
punctuality, although careful checks have been contrived
to detect either, should it occur." A proportion of their
prison-earnings is set aside for them in a savings-bank;
and to this they are encouraged to add during their
period of partial fieedom, with a view to subsequent emigration.  The results are:-" In the penitentiary the
greatest possible order and regularity, and an amount of
willing industry performed that cannot be obtained in the
prisons."  Employers to whom  prisoners are eventually
transferred, " have on many occasions returned for others
in consequence of the good conduct of those at first en.,gagf-d."t Ami accor(di ng to Captain Crofton's pamphlet




WORKING OF THE MAER  SYSTEM.              235
of 1857, out of 112 conditionally discharged during tne
previous year, 85 were going on satisfactorily, "9 have
been discharged too recently to be spoken of, and 5 have
had their licenses revoked.  As to the remaining 13, it
has been found impossible to obtain accurate information, but it is supposed that 5 have left the country, and 3
enlisted."
The "mark system" of Captain 5Maconochie, is one
which more fully carries out the principle of self-maintenance, under restraints no greater than are needful for
safety. The plan is to join with time-sentences certain
labour-sentences-specific tasks to be worked out by the
convicts.  "No  rations, or other supplies of any kind,
whether of food, bedding, clothing, or even education or
indulgences, to be given gratuitously, but all to be made
exchangeable, at fixed rates, at the prisoners' own option,
for marks previously earned; it being understood, at the
same time, that only those shall count towards liberation
which remain over and above all so exchanged; the prisoners being thus caused to depend for every necessary
on their own good conduct; and their prison-offences to
be in like manner restrained by corresponding fines imposed according to the measures of each."  The use of
marks, which thus play the part of money, was first introduced by Captain Maconochie in Norfolk Island.  Describing the working of his method, he says" First, it gave me wages and then fines. One gave me willing
and progressively-skilled labourers, and the other saved me fiom
tile necessity of imposing brutal and demoralizing punishments....
My form of money next gave me school fees. I was most anxious
to encourage education among my men, but as I refused them
rations gratuitously, so I would not give them  schooling either,
but compelled them to yield marks to acquire it..... I never
saw adult schools make such rapid progress..... My form of
money next gave me bailbonds in cases of minor or even great




236                 PRISON-ETHICS,
offences; a period of close imprisonment being wholly or in par
remitted in consideration of a sufficient number of other prisoners
of good character becoming bound, under a penalty, for the improved conduct of the culprit."
Even in the establishment of a sick-club and a burialclub, Captain Maconochie applied " the inflexible principle
of giving nothing for nothing." That is to say, here, as
throughout, he made the discipline of the prisoners as
much like the discipline of ordinary life as possible; let
them experience just such good or evil as naturally flowed
from their conduct-a principle which he rightly avows as
the only true one. What were the effects? The extreme
debasement of Norfolk-Island convicts was notorious; and
on a preceding page we have described some of the
horrible sufferings inflicted on them. Yet, starting with
these most demoralized of criminals, Captain Maconochie
obtained highly-favourable results. "In four years," he
says, "I discharged 920 doubly-convicted men to Sydney,
of whom only 20, or 2 per cent., had been reconvicted up
to January, 1845;" while, at the same time, the ordinary
proportion of reconvicted Van Diemen's Land men, otherwise trained, was 9 per cent. " Captain Maconochie,"
writes Mr. Harris in his Convicts and Settlers, "did more
for the reformation of these unhappy wretches, and amelioration of their physical circumstances, than the most
sanguine practical mind could beforehand have ventured
to hope."  Another witness says-" a reformation far
greater than has been hitherto effected in any body of
men by any system, either before or after yours, has taken
place in them."  "As pastor of the island, and for two
years a magistrate, I can prove that at no period was there
so little crime," writes the Rev. B. Naylor. And Thomas
H. Dixon, Chief Superintendent of Convicts in WVestern
Australia, who partially introduced the system  there in
1856, asserts that not only was the amount of work done




REMARKABLE REFORMATION OF CONVICTS.    337
ander it extraordinary, but that "even although the characters of some of the party were by no means good previously (many of them  being men whose licenses had
been revoked in England), yet the transformation which
in this and all other respects they underwent, was very
remarkable indeed."  If such were the results, when the
method was imperfectly carried out (for the Government
all along refused to give any fixed value to the marks as
a means to liberation); what might be expected if its
motives and restraints were allowed their full influence?
Perhaps, however, of all evidence, the most conclusive
is that afforded by the prison of Valencia.  When, in
1835, Colonel Montesinos was appointed governor, "the
average of recommittals was from 30 to 35 per cent. per
annum-nearly the same that is found in England and other
countries in Europe; but such has been the success of his
method, that for the last three years there has not been even
one recommittal to it, and for the ten previous years they
did not, on an average, exceed I per cent." And how has
this marvellous change been brought about?  By diminished restraint and industrial discipline. The following
extracts, taken irregularly from Mr. Hoskins's Spain as it
is, will prove this:
"' When first the culprit enters the establishment he wears
chains, but on his application to the commander they are taken off,
unless he has not conducted himself well."
" There are a thousand prisoners, and in the whole establishment I did not see above three or four guardians to keep them in
order. They say there are only a dozen old soldiers, and not a bar
or bolt that might not be easily broken —apparently not more fasterings than in any private house."
" When a convict enters, he is asked what trade or employment
he will work at or learn, and above forty are open to him....
There are weavers and spinners of every description;.....
blacksmiths, shoemakers, basketmakers, ropemakers, joiners, cab,




238                   PRISON-ETHICS.
Inetmakers, making handsome mahogany drawers; and they had
also a printing machine hard at work."
"The labour of every description for the repair, rebuilding,
and cleaning the establishment, is supplied by the convicts. They
were all most respectful in demeanour, and certainly I never saw
such a good-looking set of prisoners, useful occupations (and other
considerate treatment) having apparently improved their countenances....  And besides a'garden for exercise planted with
orange trees,' there was also a poultry yard for their amusement,
with pheasants and various other kinds of birds; washing-houses,
where they wash their clothes; and a shop, where they can purchase, if they wish, tobacco and other little comforts out of onefourth of the profits of their labour, which is given to them.
another fourth they are entitled to when they leave; the other
half goes to the establishment, and often this is sufficient for all
expenses, without any assistance from the Government.
Thus the highest success, regarded by Mr. loskins as
"really a miracle," is achieved by a system  most nearly
conforming to those dictates of absolute morality on which
we have insisted. The convicts are almost, if not quite,
self-supporting.  They are subject neither to gratuitous
penalties nor unnecessary restrictions.   While made to
earn their living, they are allowed to purchase such en.
joyments as consist with their confinement: the avowed
principle being, in the words of Colonel Montesinos, to
"give as much latitude to their free agency as can be
nade conformable to discipline at all."  Thus they are
(as we found that equity required they should be) allowed
to live as satisfactorily as they can, under such restraints
only as are needful for the safety of their fellow-citizens.
To us it appears extremely significant that there should
be so close a correspondence between d priori conclusions,
and the results of experiments tried without reference to
such conclusions.  On the one hand, neither in the doctrines of pure equity with which we set out, nor in the
corollaries drawn from  them, is there any mention of




THE MOST EQUITABLE SYSTEM THE BEST.   239
criminal-reformation: our concern has been solely with
the rights of citizens and convicts in their mutual relations.  On the other hand, those who have carried out
the improved penal systems above described, have had
almost solely in view the improvement of the offender:
the just claims of society, and of those who sin against it,
having been left out of the question. Yet the methods
which have succeeded  so marvellously in decreasing
criminality, are the methods which most nearly fulfil the
requirements of abstract justice.  May we not, in this,
see clear proof of harmony with the ordained principles of
things?
That the most equitable system is the one best calculated to reform the offender, may indeed be deductively
shown. The internal experience of every one must prove
to him, that excessive punishment begets, not penitence,
but indignation and hatred.  So long as an aggressor
suffers nothing beyond the evils that have naturally resulted from his misconduct-so long as he perceives that
his fellow-men have done no more than was needful for
self-defence-he has no excuse for anger; and is led to
contemplate his crime and his punishment as cause and
effect. But if gratuitous sufferings are inflicted on him, a
sense of injustice is produced. He regards himself as an
injured man. He cherishes animosity against all who have
brought this harsh treatment on him. Glad of any plea
for forgetting the injury he has done to others, he dwells
instead on the injury others have done to him. Thus
nurturing a desired for revenge rather than atonement, he
reenters society not better but worse; and if he does not
commit further crimes, as he often does, he is restrained
by the lowest of motives-fear.
Again, this industrial discipline, to which criminals
subject themselves under a purely equitable system, is the
discipline they especially need.  Speaking generally,  we
11




240                  PRISON-ETHIICS.
are all compelled to work by the necessities of our social
existence. For most of us this compulsion suffices; but
there are some whose aversion to labour cannot be thus
overcome.  Not labouring, and needing sustenance, they
are compelled to obtain it in illegitimate ways; and so
bring on themselves the legal penalties.  The criminal
class being thus in great part recruited from the idle class;
and the idleness being the source of the criminality; it
follows that a successful discipline must be one which
shall cure the idleness. The natural compulsions to labour
having been eluded, the thing required is that the offender
shall be so placed that he cannot elude them. And this
is just what is done under the system we advocate.  Its
action is such that men whose natures are ill-adapted to
the conditions of social life, bring themselves into a position in which a better adaptation is forced on them by the
alternative of starvation.
Lastly, let us not forget that this discipline which
absolute morality dictates, is salutary, not only because it
is industrial, but because it is voluntarily industrial. As
we have shown, equity requires that the confined criminal shall be left to maintain himself-that is, shall be left
to work much or little, and to take the consequent plenitude or hunger.  When, therefore, under this sharp but
natural spur, a prisoner begins to exert himself, he does
so by his own will. The process which leads him into habits of labour, is a process by which his self-control is
strengthened; and this is what is wanted to make him
a better citizen. It is to no purpose that you make him
work by external coercion; for when he is again free, and
the coercion absent, he will be what he was before. The
coercion must be an internal one, which he shall carry
with him out of prison. It avails little that you force him
to work; he must force himself to work.  And this he
will do, only when placed in those conditions which equity
dictates.




DURATION OF RESTRAINT.                241
Iere, then, we find a third order of evidences.  Psychology sulpports our conclusion.  The various experiments
albove detailed, carried out by men who had no political
or ethical theories to propagate, have established facts
which we find to be quite concordant, not only with the
dedulctions of absolute morality, but also with the deductions of mental science.  Such a combination of different
kinds of proof cannot, we think, be resisted.
And now let us try whether, by pursuing somewhat
further the method thus far followed, we can see our way
to the development of certain improved systems that are
coming into use.
Equity requires that the restraint of the criminal shall
be as great as is needful for the safety of society; but not
greater.  In respect to the quality of the restraint, there is
little difficulty in interpreting this requirement; but there
is considerable difficulty in deciding on the duration of
the restraint.  No obvious mode presents itself of finding
out how long a transgressor must be held in legal bondage, to insure society against further injury from him. A
longer period than is necessary, implies an actual injustice
to the offender. A shorter period than is necessary, implies a potential injustice to society. And yet, without
good guidance, one or other of these extremes is almost
sure to be fallen into.
At present, the lengths of penal sentences are fixed in
a manner that is wholly empirical.  For offences defined
m certain technical ways, Acts of Parliament assign transportations and imprisonments, having durations not greater
than so much nor less than so much: these partiallydetermined periods being arbitrarily fixed by legislators,
under the promptings of moral feeling.  Within the
assigned limits the judge exercises his discretion; and in
deciding on the time over which the restraint shall extend,




242                  PRISON-ETHICS.
he is swayed, partly by the special quality of the offence,
partly by the circumstances under which it was committed, partly by the prisoner's appearance and behaviour,
partly by the character given to him. And the conclusion he arrives at after consideration of these data, depends
very much on his individual nature-his moral bias and
his theories of human conduct. Thus the mode of fixing
the lengths of penal restraints, is from beginning to end,
little else than guessing. How ill this system of guessing
works, we have abundant proofs.  "Justices' justice,"
which illustrates it in its simplest form, has become a byeword; and the decisions of higher criminal courts continually err in the directions of both undue severity and
undue lenity. Daily do there occur cases of extremelytrifling transgression visited with imprisonment of considerable length; and daily do there occur cases in which tl e
punishment is so inadequate, that the offender time after
time commits new crimes, when time after time discharged
from custody.
Now the question is, whether in place of this purely
empirical method which answers so ill, equity can guide us
to a method which shall more correctly adjust the period
of restraint to the requirement in each case. We believe
it can. We believe that by following out its dictates, we
shall arrive at a method that is in great measure self-acting; and therefore less liable to be vitiated by errors of
individual judgment or feeling.
We have seen that were the requirements of absolute
morality consulted, every transgressor would be compelled
to make restitution or compensation. Throughout a considerable range of cases, this would itself involve a period
of restraint varying in proportion to the magnitude of the
offence.  It is true that when the malefactor possessed
ample means, the making restitution or compensation
would usually be to him  but a slight punishment. But




FIXING THE DURATION OF I'UNISHMENT.    243
though in these comparatively few cases, the regulation
would. fall short of its object, in so far as its effect on the
criminal was concerned; yet in the immense majority of
cases-in all cases of aggressions committed by the poorer
members of the community-it would act with efficiency.
It would involve periods of detention that would be longer
or shorter according as the injury done was greater or
less; and according as the transgressor was idle or industrious.  And although between the injury done by an
offender and his moral turpitude, there is no constant and
exact proportion; yet the greatness of the injury done,
affords, on the average of cases, a better measure of the
discipline required, than do the votes of Parliamentary
majorities and the guesses of judges.
But our guidance does not end here. An endeavour
still further to do that which is strictly equitable, will
carry us still nearer to a correct adjustment of discipline
to delinquency.  When, having enforced restitution, we
insist on some adequate guarantee that society shall not
be again injured, and accept any guarantee that is sufficient; we open the way to a self-acting regulator of the
period of detention. Already our laws are in many cases
satisfied with securities for future good behaviour. Already this system manifestly tends to separate the more
vicious from the less vicious: seeing that, on the average,
the difficulty of finding securities is great in proportion as
the character is bad. And what we propose is, that this
system, now confined to particular kinds of offences, shall
be made general. But let us be more specific.
A prisoner on his trial calls witnesses to testify to his
previous character-that is, if his character has been
tolerably good. The evidence thus given weighs more or
Less in his fivour, according to the respectability of the
witnesses, their number, and the rature of their testimony.
Taking into account these several elements, the judge




244                   PRISON-ETHICS.
forms his conception of the delinquent's general disposi
tion; and modifies the length of punishment accordingly.
Now, may we not fairly say that if the current opinion
respecting a convict's character could be brought directly
to bear in qualifying the statutory sentence, instead of
being brought indirectly to bear, as at present, it would
be a great improvement?  Clearly the estimate made by
a judge from  such testimony, must be far less accurate
than the estimate made by the prisoner's neighbours and
employers.  Clearly, too, the opinion expressed by such
neighbours and employers in the witness-box, is less trustworthy than an opinion which entailed on them  serious
responsibility.  The desideratum, is, that a prisoner's sentence shall be qualifled by the judgment of those who have
had life-long experience of him; and that the sincerity
of this judgment shall be tested by their readiness to act
on it.
But how is this to be done?  A very simple method
of doing it has been suggested.*  When a convict has
fulfilled his task of making restitution or compensation,
let it be possible for one or other of those who have known
him, to take him  out of confinement, on giving adequate
bail for his good behaviour.  Always premising that such
an arrangement shall be possible olly under an official
permit, to be withheld if the prisoner's conduct has been
unsatisfactory; and always premising that the person
who offers bail shall be of good character and means; let
it be competent for such a one to liberate a prisoner by
being bound on his behalf for a specific sum, or by undertaking to make good any injury which he may do to his
fellow-citizens within a specified period.  This will doubtless be thought a startling proposal.  We shall, however
fnd good reasons to believe it might be safely acted on —
* We owe the suggestion to MI. Octavius H. Smith




CONDITIONAL LIBERATION OF THE CONVICT.   245
nay. we shall find facts proving the success of a plan that
is obviously less safe.
Under such an arrangement, the liberator and the convict would usually stand in the relation of employer and
employed. Those to be thus conditionally released, would
be ready to work for somewhat lower wages than were
usual in their occupation; and those who became bound
for them, besides having this economy of wages as an incentive, would be in a manner guaranteed by it against
the risk undertaken. In working for less money, and in
being under the surveillance of his master, the convict
would still be undergoing a mitigated discipline. And
while, on the one hand, he would be put on his good
behaviour by the consciousness that his master might at
any time cancel the contract and surrender him back to
the authorities; he would, on the other hand, have a
remedy against his master's harshness, in the option of
returning to prison, and there maintaining himself for the
remainder of his term.
Observe next, that the difficulty of obtaining such conditional release, would vary with the gravity of the offence
that had been committed. Mlen guilty of heinous crimes
would remain in prison; for none would dare to become
responsible for their good behaviour. Any one convicted
a second time, would remain unbailed for a much longer
period than before; seeing that having once inflicted loss
on some one bound for him, he would not again be so soon
offered the opportunity of doing the like: only after a long
period of good behaviour testified to by prison-officers,
would he be likely to get another chance. Conversely,
those whose transgressions were not serious, and who had
usually been well-conducted, would readily obtain recognizances; while to venial offenders this qualified liberation
would come as soon as they had made restitution. More.
over, when innocent persons had been pronounced guilty,




246                 PRISON-ETHICS.
as well as in cases of solitary misdeeds being committed
by those of really superior natures, the system we have
described would supply a remedy.  From  the wrong
verdicts of the law, and its mistaken estimates of turpitude, there would be an appeal; and long-proved worth
would bring its reward in the mitigation of grievous injustices.
A further advantage would by implication result, in
the shape of a long industrial discipline for those who
most needed it. Speaking generally, diligent and skilful
workmen, who were on the whole useful members of
society, would, if their offences were not serious, soon obtain employers to give bail for them. Whereas, members
of the especially criminal class-the idle and the dissolute
-would remain long in confinement; since, until they
had been brought by the discipline of self-maintenance
under restraint, to something like industrial efficiency,
employers would not be tempted to become responsible
for them.
We should thus have a self-acting test, not only of the
length of restraint required for social safety, but also of
that apprenticeship to labour which many convicts need;
while there would be supplied a means of rectifying sundry failures and excesses of our present system. The plan
would practically amount to an extension of trial by jury.
At present, the State calls in certain of a prisoner's fellow-'citizens to decide whether he is guilty or not guilty: the
judge, under guidance of the penal laws, being left to
decide what punishment he deserves, if guilty. Under
the arrangement we have described, the judge's decision
would admit of modification by a jury of the convict's
neighbours.  And this natural jury, while it would be
best fitted by previous knowledge of the man, to form
an opinion, would be rendered cautious by the sense
of grave responsibility: inasmuch as any one of its




FEASIBILITY OF CONDITIONAL LIBERATION.   247
number, who gave a conditional release, would do so at
his own peril.
And now mark, that all the evidence forthcoming to
prove the safety and advantages of the " intermediate system," proves, still more conclusively, the safety and advantages of this system which we would substitute for it.
What we have described, is nothing more than an intermediate system reduced to a natural instead of an artificial
form-carried out with natural checks instead of artificial
checks. If, as Captain Crofton has experimentally shown,
it is safe to give a prisoner conditional liberation, on the
strength of good conduct during a certain period of prisondiscipline; it is evidently safer to let his conditional liberation depend not alone on good conduct while under the
eyes of his jailers, but also on the character he had earned
during his previous life.  If it is safe to act on the judgments of officials whose experience of a convict's behaviour
is comparatively limited, and who do not suffer penalties
when their judgments are mistaken; then, manifestly, it
is safer (when such officials can show no reason to the
contrary) to act on the additional judgment of one who
has not only had better opportunities of knowing the convict, but who will be a serious loser, if his judgment proves
erroneous. Further, that surveillance over each conditionally-liberated prisoner, which the "intermediate system " exercises, would be still better exercised, when, instead of going to a strange master in a strange district,
the prisoner went to some master in his own district; and
under such circumstances, it would be easier to get such
information respecting his after-career as is found desirable. There is every reason to think that such a method
would be workable. If, on the recommendation of the
officers, Captain Crofton's prisoners obtain employers
"' who have on many occasions returned for others, in consequence of the good conduct of those at first engaged; 




248                  PRISON-ETHICb.
still better would be the action of the system when, in
stead of the employers having " every facility placed at
their disposal for satisfying themselves as to the antecedents of the convict," they were already familiar with his
antecedents.
Finally, let us not overlook the fact, that this course
is the only one which, while duly consulting social safety,
is also entirely just to the prisoner. As we have shown,
the restraints imposed on a criminal are warranted by
absolute equity, only to the extent needful to prevent further aggressions on his fellow-men; and when his fellow.
men impose greater restraints than these, they trespass
against him. Hence, when a prisoner has worked out his
task of making restitution, and, so far as is possible, undone the wrong he had done; society is, in strict justice,
bound to accept any arrangement which adequately protects its members against further injury. And if, moved
by the expectation of profit, or other motive, any citizen
sufficiently substantial and trustworthy, will take on him
self to hold society harmless, society must agree to his
proposal. All it can rightly require is, that the guarantee
against contingent injury shall be adequate; which, of
course, it never can be where the contingent injury is of
the gravest kind. No bail could compensate for murder;
and therefore in this, and other extreme crimes, society
would rightly refuse any such guarantee, even if offered;
which it would be very unlikely to be.
Such, then, is our code of prison-ethics. Such is the
ideal which we ought to keep ever in view when modifying our penal system. Again we say, as we said at the
outset, that the realization of such an ideal wholly depends
on the advance of civilization. Let no one carry away
the impression that we regard all these purely equitable
regulations as immediately practicable.   Though thev




OBSTACLES TO AMELIORATION.           249
may be partially carried out, we think it highly improba.
ble, or rather impossible, that they should at present be
carried out in full. The number of offenders, the low
average of enlightenment and morality, the ill-working of
administrative machinery, and above all, the difficulty of
obtaining officials of adequate intelligence, good feeling,
and self-control, are obstacles that must long stand in the
way of a system so complex as that which morality dictates. And we here assert, as emphatically as before,
that the harshest penal system is ethically justified, if it is
as good as the circumstances of the time permit. However great the crue.ties it inflicts, yet if a system theoretically more equitable would not be a sufficient terror to
evil-doers, or could not be worked, from lack of officers
sufficiently judicious, honest, and humane-if less rigorous
methods would entail a diminution of social security; then
the methods in use are extrinsically good, though intrinsically bad: they are, as before said, the least wrong, and
therefore relatively right.
Nevertheless, as we have endeavoured to prove, it is
immensely important that, while duly considering the relatively right, we should keep the absolutely right constantly in view. True as it is, that in this transition state, our
conceptions of the ultimately expedient must ever be qualified by our experience of the proximately expedient; it is
not the less true that the proximately expedient cannot
be determined unless the ultimately expedient is known.
Before we can say what is as good as the time permits,
we must say what is abstractedly good; for the first idea
involves the last. We must have some fixed standard,
some invariable measure, some constant clue: otherwise
we shall inevitably be misled by the suggestions of immediate policy, and wander away irom tLe right, rather than
advance towards it. This conclusion is, we think, fully
borne out by the facts we have cited. In other cases, as




250                  PRISON-ETHICS.
well as in the case of penal discipline, the evidence shows
how terribly we have erred from obstinately refusing to
consult first principles, and clinging to an unreasoning
empiricism.  Though, during civilization, grievous evils
have occasionally arisen from attempts suddenly to realize
absolute rectitude; yet a greater sum total of evils has
arisen from the more usual course of ignoring absolute
rectitude. Age after age, effete institutions have been
maintained far longer than they would else have been;
and equitable arrangements have been needlessly postponed.   Is it not time  for us to  profit by past
lesrons?




VII.
RAILWAY MORALS AND RAILWAY
POLICY.
B ELIEVERS in the intrinsic virtues of political forms,
might draw an instructive lesson from the politics of
our railways. If there needs a conclusive proof that the
most carefully-framed constitutions are worthless, unless
they be embodiments of the popular character-if there
needs a conclusive proof, that governmental arrangements
in advance of the time will inevitably lapse into congruity
with the time; such proof may be found over and over
again repeated in the current history of joint-stock enterprises.
As devised by Act of Parliament, the administrations
of our public companies are almost purely democratic.
The representative system is carried out in them with
scarcely a check.  Shareholders elect their directors, directors their chairman; there is an annual retirement of a
certain proportion of the board, giving facilities for superseding them; and, by this means, the whole ruling body
may be changed in periods varying from  three to five
years. Yet, not only are the characteristic vices of our
political state reproduced in each of these mercantile corporations-some even in an intenser degree-but the very




252    RAILWAY MORALS AND RAILWAY POLICY.
form  of government, while remaining nominally demo.
cratic, is substantially so remodelled as to become a minia.
ture of our national constitution. The direction, ceasing
to fulfil its theory as a deliberative body whose members
possess like powers, falls under the control of some one
member of superior cunning, will, or wealth, to whom the
majority become so subordinate, that the decision on every
question depends on the course he takes. Proprietors, instead of constantly exercising their franchise, allow it to
become on all ordinary occasions a dead letter: retiring
directors are so habitually reelected without opposition,
and have so great a power of insuring their own election
when opposed, that the board becomes practically a close
body; and it is only when the misgovernment grows extreme enough to produce a revolutionary agitation among
the shareholders, that any change can be effected.
Thus, a mixture of the monarchic, the aristocratic, and
the democratic elements, is repeated with such modifications only as the circumstances involve. The modes of
action, too, are substantially the same: save in this, that
the copy outruns the original. Threats of resignation,
which ministries hold out in extreme cases, are commonly
made by railway-boards to stave off a disagreeable inquiry.
By no means regarding themselves as servants of the
shareholders, directors rebel against dictation from them;
and frequently construe any amendment to their proposals into a vote of want of confidence. At half-yearly
meetings, disagreeable criticism and objections are met by
the chairman with the remark, that if the shareholders
cannot trust his colleagues and himself, they had bettel
(hoose others. With most, this assumption of offended
dignity tells; and, under the fear that the company's interests may suffer fiom any disturbance, measures quite at
variance with the wishes of the proprietary are allowed to
be carried.




CORRUPT ADMINISTRATIONS OF THE COMPANIES.  253
The parallel holds yet further. If it be true of national
administrations, that those in office count on the support
of all public emnployes; it is not less true of incorporated
companies, that the directors are greatly aided by their
officials in their struggles with shareholders.  If, in times
past, there have been ministries who spent public money
to secure party ends; there are, in times present, railwayboards who use the funds of the shareholders to defeat the
shareholders. Nay, even in detail, the similarity is maintained. Like their prototype, joint-stock companies have
their expensive election contests, managed by election
committees, employing election agents; they have their
canvassing with its sundry illegitimate accompaniments;
they have their occasional manufacture of fraudulent votes.
And, as a general result, that class-legislation, which has
been habitually charged against statesmen, is now habitually displayed in the proceedings of these trading associations: constituted though they are on purely representative principles.
These last assertions will probably surprise not a few.
The general public who have little or no direct interest in
railway matters-who never see a railway-journal, and
who skip the reports of half-yearly meetings that appear
in the daily papers-are under the impression that dishonesties akin to those gigantic ones so notorious during
the mania, are no longer committed. They do not forget
the doings of stags and stock-jobbers and runaway directors.  They remember how men-of-straw held shares
amounting to ~100,000, and even ~200,000; how numerous directorates were filled by the same persons-one having a seat at twenty-three boards; how subscription-contracts were made up with signatures bought at 10s. and
4s. each, and porters and errand-boys made themselves
liable for ~30,000 and ~40,000 a-piece. They can narrate
how boards kept their books in cipher, made false regis




254    RAILWAY MORALS AND RAILWAY POLICY.
tries, and refrained from recording their proceedings in
minute-books; how in one company, half-a-million of capital was put down to unreal names; how in another, directors bought for account more shares than they issued, and
so forced up the price; and how in many others, they repurchased for the company their own shares, paying themselves with the depositors' money.
But, though more or less aware of the iniquities that
have been practised, the generality think of them solely
as the accompaniments of bubble schemes. More recent
enterprises they know to have been bondfide ones, mostly
carried out by old-established companies; and knowing
this, they do not suspect that in the getting-up of branchlines and extensions, there are chicaneries near akin to
those of Capel Court; and quite as disastrous in their ultimate results. Associating the ideas of wealth and respectability, and habitually using respectability as synonymous with morality, it seems to them  incredible that
many of the large capitalists and men of station who
administer railway affairs, should be guilty of indirectly
enriching themselves at the expense of their constituents.
True, they occasionally meet with a law-report disclosing
some enormous fraud; or read a Times leader, characterizing directorial acts in terms that are held libellous. But
they regard the cases thus brought to light as entirely exceptional; and under that feeling of loyalty which ever
idealizes men in authority, they constantly tend towards
the conviction, if not that directors can do no wrong, yet
that they are very unlikely to do wrong.
A  history of railway management and railway intrigue, however, would quickly undeceive them. In such
a history, the doings of projectors and the mysteries of the
ehare-market would occupy less space than the analysis of
the multiform dishonesties which have been committed
since 1845, and the genesis of that elaborate system of




DISHONESTIES OF THE MANAGERS.          255
tactics by which companies are betrayed into ruinous undertakings that benefit the few at the cost of the many.
Such a history would not only have to detail the doings
of the personage famed for "making things pleasant;"
nor would it have merely to add the misdeeds of his colleagues; but it would have to describe the kindred ccrruptness of other railway administrations. From the published report of an investigation-committee, it would be
shown how, not many years since, the directors of one of
our lines allotted among themselves 15,000 new shares
then at a premium in the market; how to pay the deposits
on these shares they used the company's funds; and how
one of their number thus accommodated himself in meeting both deposits and calls to the extent of more than
~80,000. We should read in it of one railway chairman
who, with the secretary's connivance, retained shares exceeding a quarter of a million in amount, intending to
claim them as his allotment if they rose to a premium;
and who, as they did not do so, left them  as unissued
shares on the hands of the proprietors, to their vast loss.
We should also read in it of directors who made loans to
themselves out of the company's floating balances at a
low rate of interest, when the market rate was high; and
who paid themselves larger salaries than those assigned:
entering the difference in an obscure corner of the ledger
under the head of "petty disbursements." There would
be a description of the manceuvres by which a delinquent
board, under impending investigation, gets a favourable
committee  nominated-" a whitewashing  committee."
There would be documents showing that the proxies enabling boards to carry contested measures, have in some
cases been obtained by garbled statements; and, again, that
proxies given for a specific purpose have been used for
other purposes. One of our companies would be proved
to have projected a line, serving as a feeder, for which it




256    RAILWAY MORALS AND RAILWAY POLICY.
obtained shareholders by offering a guaranteed dividend.
which, though understood by the public to be unconditional, was really contingent upon a condition not likely
to be fulfilled. The managers of another company would
be convicted of having carried party measures by the aid
of preference-shares standing in the names of station-masters; and of being aided by the proxies of the secretary's
children toc young to write.
That the corruptions here glanced at are not merely
exceptional evils, but result from  some deep-seated vice
ramifying throughout our system of railway-government,
is sufficiently proved by the simple fact, that notwithstand
ing the depreciation of railway-dividends produced by the
extension policy, that policy has been year after year continued.  Does any tradesman, who, having enlarged his
shop, finds a proportionate diminution in his rate of profits,
go on, even under the stimulus of competition, making
further enlargements at the risk of further diminutions?
Does any merchant, however strong his desire to take
away an opponent's markets, make successive mortgages
on his capital, and pay for each sum thus raised a higher
interest than he gains by trading with it?   Yet this
course, so absurd that no one would insult a private individual by asking him to follow it, is the course which railway-boards, at meeting  after meeting, persuade their
clients to pursue.  Since 1845, when the dividends of our
leading lines ranged from 8 to 10 per cent., they have,
notwithstanding an ever-growing traffic, fallen from 10 per
cent. to 5, from 8 to 4, from 9 to 3{; and yet the system
of extensions, leases, and guarantees, notoriously the cause
of this, has been year by year persevered in. Is there
not something needing explanation here-something more
than the world is allowed to see? If there be any one to
whom the broad fact of obstinate persistence in unprofitable expenditure does not alone carry the conviction that




DIIPOSITION UPON THE SHAREHOLDERS.         257
sinister influences are at work, let him read the seductive
statements by which shareholders are led to authorize
new projects, and then compare these with the proved
results. Let him look at the estimated cost, anticipated
traffic, and calculated dividend on some proposed branch
line; let him observe how the proprietary before whom
the scheme is laid, are induced to approve it as promising
a fair return; and then let him contemplate, in the resulting depreciation of stock, the extent of their loss. Is
there any avoiding the inference?  Clearly, railway-shareholders can never have habitually voted for new undertakings which they knew  would be injurious to them.
Every one knows, however, that these new undertakings
have almost uniformly proved injurious to them.  Obviously, therefore, railway-shareholders have been continually deluded by false representations.
The only possible escape from this conclusion is in the
belief that boards and their officers have been themselves
deceived; and were the discrepancies between promises
and results occasional only, there would be grounds for
this lenient interpretation.  But to suppose that a railwaygovernment should repeatedly make such mistakes, and
yet gain no wisdom from  disastrous experiences-should
after a dozen disappointments again mislead half-yearly
meetings by bright anticipations into dark realities, and
all in good faith-taxes credulity somewhat too far. Even,
then, were there no demonstrated iniquities to rouse suspicion, we think that the continuous depreciation in the
value of railway-stock, the determined perseverance of
boards in the policy that has produced this depreciation,
and the proved untruth of the statements by which they
have induced shareholders to sanction this policy, would
of themselves suffice to she w the essential viciousness of
railway-administration.
That the existing evils, and the causes conspiring to




B5     RAILWAY MORALS AND RAILWAY POLICY.
produce them, may be better understood, it will be need
ful briefly to glance at the mode in which the system of
extensions grew up. Earliest among the incentives to it
was a feeling of rivalry. Even while yet their main lines
were unmade, a contest for supremacy arose between our
two greatest companies. This presently generated a confirmed antagonism; and the same impulse which in election contests and the like, has frequently led to the squandering of a fortune to gain a victory, has largely aided to
make each of these great rivals submit to repeated sacrifices rather than be beaten. Feuds of like nature are in
other cases perpetually prompting boards to make aggressions on each other's territories-every attack on the one
side leading to a reprisal on the other: and so violent is
the hostility occasionally produced, that directors might
be pointed out whose votes are wholly determined by the
desire to be revenged on their opponents.
Among the first methods by which leading companies
sought to strengthen themselves and weaken their competitors, was the leasing or purchase of subordinate neighbouring lines.  Of course those to whom overtures were
made, obtained bids fiom  both sides; and it naturally
resulted that the first sales thus effected, being at prices far
above the real values, brought great profits to the sellers.
What resulted? A few recurrences of this proceeding,
made it clear to quick-witted speculators, that constructing lines so circumstanced as to be bid for by competing
companies, would be a lucrative policy.  Shareholders
who had once pocketed these large and easily-made gains,
were eager to repeat the process; and cast about for districts in which it might be done. Even the directors of
the companies by whom  these high prices were given,
were under the temptation to aid in this; for it was manifest to them  that by obtaining a larger interest in any
such new undertaking than they possessed in the pur.




GETTING UP SUBSIDIARY LINES.         259
chasing company, and by using their influence in the purchasing company to obtain a good price or guarantee for
the new undertaking, a great advantage would be gained:
and that this motive has been largely operative, railway
history abundantly proves.
Once commenced, sundry other influences conspired to
stimulate this making of feeders and extensions. The nonclosure of capital-accounts rendered possible the "cooking" of dividends, which was at one period carried to a
great extent. Under various incentives, speculative and
other, expenditure that should have been charged against
revenue was charged against capital; works and rolling
stock were allowed to go unrepaired, or insufficient additions made to them, by which means the current expenses
were rendered delusively small; long-credit agreements
with contractors permitted sundry disbursements that had
been virtually made, to be kept out of the accounts; and
thus the net returns were made to appear much greater
than they really were. Naturally the new undertakings
put before the moneyed world by companies whose stock
and dividends had been thus artificially raised, were received with proportionate favour. Under the prestige of
their parentage their shares came out at high premiums,
bringing large profits to the projectors. The hint was
soon taken; and it presently became an established policy, under the auspices of a prosperity either real or mock,
to get up these subsidiary lines —" calves," as they were
called in the slang of the initiated-and to traffic in the
premiums their shares commanded.
Meanwhile had been developing a secondary set of
influences which also contributed to foster unwise enterlrises; namely, the business interests of the lawyers,
engineers, contractors, and others directly or indirectly
employed in railway construction. The methods of projeeting and carrying new schemes, could not fail, in the




260    RAILWAY MORALS AiND RAILWAY POLICY.
course of years, to become familiar to all persons coln
cerned; and there could not fail to grow up among them
a concerted system of tactics calculated to achieve their
common end.  Thus, partly from the jealousy of rival
boards, partly from the avarice of shareholders in purchased lines, partly from the dishonest schemings of direct.
ors, partly from the manoeuvres of those whose business
it is to carry out the projects legally authorized, partly,
and perhaps mainly, from the delusive appearance of prosperity maintained by many established companies, there
came the wild speculations of 1844 and 1845. The consequent disasters, while they pretty well destroyed the last
of these incentives, left the rest much as they were.
Though the painfully-undeceived public have ceased to
aid as they once did, the various private interests that had
grown up have since been working together as beforehave developed their systems of cooperation into still
more complex and subtle forms; and are even now daily
thrusting unfortunate shareholders into losing undertakings.
Before proceeding to analyze the existing state of
things, however, we would have it clearly understood that
we do not suppose those implicated to be on the average
morally lower than the community at large. Men taken
at random from any class, would, in all probability, behave
much in the same way when placed in like positions.
There are unquestionably directors grossly dishonest.
Unquestionably also there are others whose standard of
honour is far higher than that of most persons. And for
the remainder, they are, we doubt not, as good as the
mass. Of the engineers, parliamentary agents, lawyers,
contractors, and various others concerned, it may be admitted that though daily custom has induced laxity of
principle, yet they would be harshly judged were the
transactions that may be recorded against them, used as




INFERIORITY OF EIE CORPORATE CONSCIENCE.  261
tests. Those who do not see how in these involved affairs, the most inequitable results may be wrought out by
men not correspondingly flagitious, will readily do so on
considering all the conditions.
In the first place, there is the familiar fact that the corporate conscience is ever inferior to the individual conscience —that a body of men will commit as a joint act,
that which every individual of them would shrink from,
did he feel personally responsible. And it may be remarked that not only is the conduct of a corporate body
thus comparatively lax, but also the conduct towards one.
There is ever a more or less distinct perception, that a
broad-backed company scarcely feels what would be ruin
ous to a private person; and this perception is in constant
operation on all railway-boards and their employes, as well
as on all contractors, landowners, and others concerned;
leading them to show a graspingness and want of principle foreign to their general behaviour. Again, the indirectness and remoteness of the evils produced, greatly
weaken the restraints on wrong-doing. Men's actions are
proximately produced by mental representations of the
results to be anticipated; and the decisions come to,
largely depend on the vividness with which these results
can be imagined. A consequence, good or bad, that is
Lhnmediate and clearly apprehended, influences conduct far
more potently than a consequence that has to be traced
through a long chain of causation, and, as eventually
reached, is not a particular and readily conceivable one,
but a general and vaguely conceivable one. Hence, in
railway affairs, a questionable share-transaction, an exorbitant charge, a proceeding which brings great individual
advantage without apparently injuring any one, but which,
even if analyzed in its ultimate results, can but very cir
cuitously affect unknown persons living no one knows
where, may be brought home to men who, could the re



262    RAILWAY MORALS AND RAILWAY POLICY.
sults be embodied before them, would be shocked at the
cruel injustices they had committed-men who in their
private business, where the results can be thus embodied,
are sufficiently equitable.
Further, it requires to be noted that most of these
great delinquencies are wrought out, not by the extreme
dishonesty of any one man or group of men, but by the
combined self-interest of many men and groups of men,
whose minor delinquencies are cumulative. Much as a
story which, passing from mouth to mouth, and receiving
a slight exaggeration at each repetition, comes round to
the original narrator in a form scarcely to be recognized;
so, by a little improper influence on the part of landowners, a little favouritism on the part of members of Parliament, a little intriguing of lawyers, a little manceuvring
by contractors and engineers, a little self-seeking on the
part of directors, a little under-statement of estimates and
over-statement of traffic, a little magnifying of the evils
to be avoided and the benefits to be gained-it happens
that shareholders are betrayed into ruinous undertakings
by grossly untrue representations, without any one being
guilty of more than a small portion of the fraud. Bearing
in mind then, the comparative laxity of the corporate conscience; the diffusion and remoteness of the evils which
malpractices produce; and the composite origin of these
malpractices; it becomes possible to understand how, in
railway affairs, gigantic dishonesties can be perpetrated
by men, who, on the average, are little if at all below the
generality in moral character.
With this preliminary mitigation we proceed to detail
the various illegitimate agencies by which these seemingly
insane extensions and this continual squandering of share,
holders' property are brought about.
Conspicuous among these is the self-interest of land.




GREED OF LAND-OWNERS.              263
owners.  Once the greatest obstacles to railway enterprise, owners of estates have of late years been among its
chief promoters.  Since the Liverpool and Manchester
line was first defeated by landed opposition, and succeeded
with its second bill only by keeping out of sight of all
mansions, and avoiding the game preserves-since the
time when the London and Birmingham Company, after
seeing their project thrown out by a committee of peers
who ignored the evidence, had to " conciliate" their antagonists by raising the estimate for land from ~250,000
to ~750,000~since the time when Parliamentary counsel
bolstered up a groundless resistance by the flimsiest and
absurdest excuses, even to reproaching engineers with
having "trodden down the corn of widows" and " destroyed the strawberry-beds of gardeners "-since then, a
marked change of policy has taken place. Nor was it in
human nature that it should be otherwise. When it became known that railway companies commonly paid for
"land and compensation," sums varying from ~4,000 to
~S,000 per mile; that men were indemnified for supposed
injury to their property, by sums so inordinate that the
greater part has been known to be returned by the heir as
conscience-money; that in one case ~120,000 was given
for land said to be worth but ~5,000-when it was bruited
abroad that large bonuses in the shape of preference shares
and the like, were granted to buy off opposition-when it
came to be an established fact that estates are greatly enhanced in value by the proximity of railways; it is not
surprising that country gentlemen should have become
active supporters of schemes to which they were once the
bitterest enemies. On considering the many temptations,
we shall see nothing wonderful in the fact that in 1845
they were zealous provisional committee-men; nor in the
fact that their influence as promoters enabled them to get
large sums for their own acres; nor in the fact that they
12




264    RAILWAY MORALS AND RAILWAY POLICY.
committed various acts sufficiently reprehensible from any
but their own point of view.
If we are told of squires soliciting interviews with the
engineer of a projected railway; prompting him to take
their side of the country; promising support if he did,
and threatening opposition if he did not; dictating the
course to be followed through their domains, and hinting
that a good price would be expected; we are simply told
of the special modes in which certain private interests
show themselves. If we hear of an extensive landowner
using his influence as chairman of a board of directors, to
project a branch running for many miles through his own
estate, and putting his company to the cost of a parliamientary contest to carry this line; we hear only of that
which was likely to occur under such circumstances. If
we find now before the public, a line proposed by a large
capitalist, serving among other ends to effect desirable
communications with his property, and the estimates for
which line, though considered by the engineering world
insufficient, are alleged by him to be ample; we have but
a marked case of the distorted representations which under such conditions self-interest is sure to engender. If
we discover of this or that scheme, that it was got up by
the local nobility and gentry-that they employed to
make the survey a third-rate engineer, who was ready in
anticipation of future benefit to do this for his bare expenses-that principals and agent wearied the directors
of an adjacent trunk-line to take up their project; threatened that if they did not their great rival would; alarmed
them into concession; asked for a contribution to their
expenses; and would have gained all these points but for
shareholders' resistance-we do but discover the organized
tactics which in process of time naturally grow up under
such stimuli. It is not that these facts are particularly
remarkable. From the gross instance of the landowner




PRESSURE OF THE LANDED INTEREST.         265
who asked ~8,000 for that which he eventually accepted
~80 for, down to the every-day instances of influence used
to get railway accommodation for the neighbourhood, the
acts of the landed class are simply manifestations of the
average character acting under special conditions. All
tllat it now behooves us to notice, is, that we have here a
large and powerful body whose interests are ever pressing
on railway extension, irrespective of its intrinsic propriety.
The great change in the attitude of the Legislature
towards railways, from " the extreme of determined rejection or dilatory acquiescence, to the opposite extreme of
unlimited concession," was simultaneous with the change
above described. It could not well fail to be so. Supplying, as the landowning community does, so large a portion
of both Houses of Parliament, it necessarily follows that
the play of private interests seen in the first, repeats itself
in the last under modified forms, and complicated by other
influences. Remembering the extent to which legislators
were themselves involved in the speculations of the mania,
it is scarcely probable that they should since have been
fiee from personal bias. A return proved, that in 1845
there were 157 members of Parliament whose names were
on the registers of new companies for sums varying from
~291,000 downwards.  The supporters of new projects
boasted of the number of votes they could command in
the House.  Members were personally canvassed, and
peers were solicited. It was publicly complained in the
upper chamber, that "it was nearly impossible to bring
together a jury, some members of which were not interested in the railway they were about to assess." Doubtless this state of things was in a great degree exceptional;
and there has since been not only a diminution of the
temptations, but a marked increase of equitable feeling
Still, it is not to be expected that private interests should
cease to act. It is not to be expected that a landowner




266    RAILWAY MORALS AND RAILWAY POLICY.
who, out of Parliament, exerts himself to get a railway
for his district, should, when in Parliament, not employ
the power his new position gives him to the same end. It
is not to be expected that the accumulation of such indi.
vidual actions should leave the legislative policy unchanged. Hence the fact, that the influence once used to
throw out railway bills is now used to carry them. Ience
the fact, that railway committees no longer require a good
traffic case to be made out in justification of the powers
asked. Hence the fact, that the directors and chairmen
of boards having seats in the House of Commons, are
induced to pledge their companies to carry out extensions.
We could name a member of Parliament, who, having
bought an estate fitly situated, offered to an engineer, also
in Parliament, the making of a railway running through
it; and having obtained the Act (in doing which the influence of himself and his friend were of course useful), pitted three railway companies against each other for the
purchase of it. We could name another member of Parliament, who, having projected, and obtained powers for,
an extension through his property, induced the directors
of the main line, with whom he had great influence, to
subscribe half the capital for his extension, to work it for
fifty per cent. of the gross receipts, and to give up all traffic brought by it on to the main line until he received four
per cent. on his capital; which was tantamount to a four
per cent. guarantee.
But it is not only, nor indeed mainly, from directly
personal motives that legislators have of late years unduly
fostered railway enterprises. Indirect motives of various
kinds have been largely operative. The wish to satisfy
constituents has been one. Inhabitants of unaccommodated districts, are naturally urgent with their representatives to help them to a line. Such representatives are not
unfrequently conscious that their next elections may pos




SELFISH INTERESTS INVOLVED.            267
sibly turn upon their successful response to this appeal.
Even when there is no popular pressure there is the pressure of their leading political supporters-of large landholders whom  it will not do to neglect; of the magistracy, with whom it is needful to be on good terms; of
local lawyers, important as electioneering friends, to whom a
railway always brings business. Thus, without having any
immediately private ends, members of Parliament are often
almost coerced into pressing forward schemes which, from
a national or from a shareholder's point of view, are very
unwise ones. Then there comes the still less direct stimuli. Where neither personal nor political ends are to be
gained, there are still the interests of a relative to be subserved; or, if not those of a relative, still those of a
friend. And where there is no decided impulse to the
contrary, these motives, of course, have their weight.
Moreover, it requires in fairness to be said, that possessed
as most members of Parliament are, with the belief that
all railway-making is nationally beneficial, there exist in
their minds few or no reasons for resisting the influences
brought to bear on them. True, shareholders may be injured; but that is their own affair:-the public will be
better served; constituents will be satisfied; friends will
be pleased; perhaps personal ends gained: and under
some or all of these incentives affirmative votes are readily given. Thus, from the Legislature also, there has of
late years proceeded a factitious stimulus to railway ex
tensions.
From  Parliament to Parliamentary agents, and the
general body of lawyers concerned in railway enterprise
is a ready transition. With these, the getting up and car.
rying of new lines and branches is a matter of business.
Whoever studies the process of obtaining a railway Act.
or considers the number of legal transactions involved in
the execution of railway works, or notes the large sums




268    RAILWAY MORALS AND RAILWAY POLICY.
that figure in half-yearly reports under the head of "law
charges;" will at once see how strong are the temptations
which a new project holds out to solicitors, conveyancers,
and counsel. It has been shown that in past years, parliamentary expenses have varied from ~650 to ~3,000 per
mile; of which a large proportion has gone into the pockets of the profession. In one contest, ~57,000 was spent
among six counsel and twenty solicitors. At a late meeting of one of our companies it was pointed out, that the
sum expended in legal and parliamentary expenses during
nine years, had reached  ~480,000; or had  averaged
~53,500 a-year. With these and scores of like facts before them, it would indeed be strange did not so acute a
body of men as lawyers use vigorous efforts and sagacious
devices to promote fresh enterprises. Indeed, if we look
back at the proceedings of 1845, we shall suspect, not only
that lawyers are still the active promoters of fresh enterprises, but often the originators of them. Most people
have heard how in those excited times the projects daily
announced were frequently set afloat by local solicitorshow these looked over maps to see where plausible lines
could be sketched out-how they canvassed the local gentry to obtain provisional committeemen-how they agreed
with engineers to make trial surveys-how, under the
wild hopes of the day, they found little difficulty in forming companies-and how most of them managed to get as
far as the Committee on Standing Orders, if no farther.
Remembering all this, and remembering that those
who were successful are not likely to have forgotten their
Cunning, but rather to have yearly exercised and increased
it, we may naturally expect to find railway lawyers among
the most influential of the many parties conspiring to urge
railway proprietaries into disastrous undertakings: and
we shall not be deceiv ed. To a great extent they are in'eague with engineers. From the proposal to the comple




EVIL INFLUENCE OF RAILWAY LAWYERS.    2G9
tion of a new line, the lawyer and the engineer work to
gether; and their interests are throughout identical. While
the one makes the survey, the other prepares the book
of reference. The parish plans which the one gets ready,
the other deposits. The notices to owners and occupiers
which the one fills in, the other serves upon those concerned. Thioughout, there is continual consultation between them as to the dealing with local opposition and
the obtainment of local support. In the getting up of
their case for Parliament, they necessarily act in concert.
While, before Committee, the one gets his ten guineas per
day for attending to give evidence; the other makes profits on all the complicated transactions which carrying a
bill involves. During the execution of the works they
are in frequent correspondence; and alike profit by any
expansion of the undertaking. Thus there naturally arises
in each, the perception that in aiding the other he is aidJng himself: and gradually, as, in course of years, the
proceedings come to be often repeated, and a perfect familiarity with railway politics gained, there grows up a wellorganized system of cooperation between them-a system
rendered the more efficient by the wealth and influence
which each has year by year accumulated.
Among the manceuvres employed by railway solicitors
thus established and thus helped, not the least remarkable is that of getting their own nominees elected as directors. Startling though it may seem, it is yet a fact, which
we state on good authority, that there are puppet-directors who vote for this or that at the instigation of the
company's lawyer, whose creatures they are. The obtainment of such tools is by no means difficult. Vacancies are
about to occur in the directorate. Almost always there are
sundry men over whom a solicitor, conducting the extensive
law-business of a railway, has considerable power: not only
connections and friends, but clients and persons to whom




270    RAILWAY MORALS AND RAILWAY POLICY.
in his legal capacity he can do great benefit or great injury
He selects the most suitable of these; giving the pref.
erence, if other things are equal, to one living in the coun
try near the line. On opening the matter to him, he points
out the sundry advantages attendant on a director's Dosition-the free pass and the many facilities it gives; the
annual ~100 or so which the office brings; the honour and
irnl aence accruing; the opportunities for profitable investment that are likely to occur; and so forth. Should ignorance of railway affairs be raised as an objection, the
tempter, in whose eyes this ignorance is a chief recommendation, replies that he shall always be at-hand to
guide his votes. Should non-possession of a due amount
of the company's stock be pleaded, the tempter readily
meets the difficulty by offering himself to furnish th
needful qualification. Thus incited and flattered, and peil
haps conscious that it would be dangerous to refuse, the
intended puppet allows himself to be put in nomination;
and as it is the general habit of half-yearly meetings, unless under great indignation, to elect any one proposed to
them by those in authority, the nomination is successful.
On subsequent occasions this proceeding can, of course, be
repeated; and thus the company's legal agent and those
leagued with him, may command sufficient votes to turn
the scale in their own favour.
Then, to the personal interest and power of the head
solicitor, have to be added those of the local ones, with
whom he is in constant business intercourse. They, too,
profit by new undertakings; they, therefore, are commonly
Jirgent in pressing them forwards. Acting in cooperation
with their chief, they form a local staff of great influence.
They are active canvassers; they stimulate and concentrate the Ieeling of their districts; they encourage rivalry
with other lines; they alarm local shareholders with ru
mours of threatened competition. WheTJ the question of




MORALITY OF THE ENGINEERS.            271
extension or non-extension comes to a division, they collect proxies for the extension party. They bring pressure
to bear on their shareholding clients and relatives. Nay,
so deep an interest do they feel in the decision, as occasionally to manufacture votes with the view of influencing
it. We have before us the case of a local solicitor, who,
before the special meeting called to adopt or reject a contemplated branch, transferred portions of his own shares
into the names of sundry members of his family, and so
multiplied his seventeen votes into forty-one; all of which
he recorded for the adoption of his new scheme.
The morality of railway engineers is not greatly above
that of railway lawyers. The gossip of Great George
Street is fertile in discreditable revelations. It tells how
So-and-so, like others before him, testified to estimates
which he well knew were insufficient. It makes jocose
allusion to this man as being employed to do his senior's
"dirty work"-his hard-swearing; and narrates of the
other, that when giving evidence before committee, he
was told by counsel that he was not to be believed even
on his knees. It explains how cheaply the projector of a
certain line executed the parliamentary survey, by employing on it part of the staff in the pay of another company to which he was engineer. Now it alludes to the
suspicion attaching to a certain member of the fraternity
from his having let a permanent-way contract, for a term
of years, at an extravagant sum per mile. Again it rumours the great profits which some of the leaders of the
profession made in 1845, by charging for the use of their
names at so much the prospectus; even up to a thousand
guineas. And then, it enlarges upon the important advantages possessed by engineers who have seats in the
House of Commons.
Thus lax as is the ethical code of engineers, and greatly
as they are interested in railway enterprise, it is to be ex*




272    RAILWAY MORALS AND RAILWAY POLICY.
pected that they should be active and not very scrupu.
lous promoters of it. To illustrate the vigour and skill
with which they further new undertakings, a few facts
may be cited. Not far from London, and lying between
two lines of railway, is an estate that has been purchased
by one of our engineers.  He has since obtained Acts
for branches to both of the adjacent lines. One of these
branches he has leased to the company whose line it joins;
and he has tried to do the like with the other, but as yet
without success. Even as it is, however, he is considered
to have doubled the value of his property. Again, an
engineer of celebrity once very nearly succeeded in smuggling through Parliament, in the bill for a proposed rail.
way, a clause extending the limits of deviation, through a
certain district, to several miles on each side of the linethe usual limits being but five chains on each side; and
the attempt is accounted for by the fact, that this engineer possessed mines in this district. To press forward
extensions by the companies with which they are connected, they occasionally go to great lengths. Not long
since, at a half-yearly meeting, certain projects which the
proprietary had already once rejected, were again brought
forward by two engineers who attended in their capacity
of shareholders. Though known to be personally interested, one of them  moved and the other seconded, that
some new proposals from the promoters of these schemes
be considered without delay by the directors. The motion was carried; the directors approved the proposals;
and again, the proprietors negatived them. A third time
a like effort was made; a third time a conflict arose; and
within a few days of the special meeting at which the division was to take place, one of these engineers circulated
among the shareholders a pamphlet denying the allegations of the dissentient party and making counter-state.
ments which it was then too late to meet —nay, he did




INFLUENCE OF THE CON'TACTORS.           273
more; he employed agents to canvass the shareholders for
proxies in support of the new undertaking; and was obliged
to confess as much when charged with it at the meeting.
Turn we now to contractors. Railway enterprise has
given to this class of men a gigantic development, not
only in respect of numbers, but in respect of the vast
wealth to which some of them have attained. Originally,
half a dozen miles of earthwork, fencing, and bridges,
was as much as any single contractor undertook. Of late
years, however, it has become common for one man to engage to construct an entire railway; and deliver it over
Jo the company in a fit condition for opening. Great capital is necessarily required for this.  Great profits are
made by it. And the fortunes accumulated in course of
time have been such, that sundry contractors are named
as being each able to make a railway at his own cost.
But they are as insatiate as millionnaires in general; and
so long as they continue in business at all, are, in some
sort, forced to provide new undertakings to keep their
plant employed. As may be imagined, enormous stocks
of working materials are needed: many hundreds of
earth-wagons and of horses; many miles of temporary
rails and sleepers; some half-dozen locomotive engines,
and several fixed ones; innumerable tools; besides vast
stores of timber, bricks, stone, rails, and other constituents of permanent works, that have been bought on spe.ulation. To keep the capital thus invested, and also a
large staff of employes, standing idle, entails loss, partly
negative, partly positive. The great contractor, therefore,
is alike under a pressing stimulus to get fresh work, and
enabled by his wealth to do this.  Hence the not unfiequent inversion of the old arrangement utnder which
companies and engineers employed contractors, into an
arrangement under which contractors employ engineers
and form companies.




274    RAILWAY MORALS AND RAILWAY POLICY.
Many recent undertakings have been thus set on foot,
The most gigantic project which private enterprise has
yet dared-a project of which, unfortunately, there is now
no hope-originated with a distinguished contracting firnm.
In some cases, as in this chief one, this mode of procedure
may, perhaps, be advantageous; but in a far greater proportion of cases its results are disastrous. Interested in
promoting railway extensions, even in a greater degree
than engineers and lawyers, contractors frequently cooperate with these, either as agents or as coadjutors. Lines
are fostered into being, which it is known from the beginning, will not pay. Of late, it has become common for
landowners, merchants, and others personally interested,
who, under the belief that their indirect gains will compensate for their meagre dividends, have themselves raised
part of the capital for a local railway, but cannot raise
the rest-it has become common for such to make an
agreement with a wealthy contractor to construct the
line, taking in part payment a portion of the shares,
amounting to perhaps a third of the whole, and to charge
for his work according to a schedule of prices to be thereafter settled between himself and the engineer. By this
last clause the contractor renders himself secure. It would
never answer his purpose to take part payment in shares
likely to return some ~2 per cent., unless he compensated
himself by unusually high profits; and tnls subsequent
settlement of prices with one whose interests, like his
own, are wrapped up in the prosecution of the undertaking, ensures him high profits. Meanwhile, the facts that
all the capital has been subscribed and the line contracted
for, unduly raise the public estimate of the scheme; the
shares are quoted at much above their true worth; unwary persons buy; the contractor from time to time parts
with his moiety at fair prices; and the new shareholders
ultimately find themselves part owners of a railway which,




DISHONEST SCHEMES OF CONTRACTORS.         275?.nprofatable as it originally promised to be, had been
made yet more unprofitable by expensiveness of construec
ti.on.
Nor are these the only cases in which contractors gain
after this fashion. They do the like with undertakings of
their own projection. To obtain Acts for these, they sign
the subscription-contracts for large amounts; knowing that
in the way above described, they can always make it answer to do this. So general had the practice latterly become, as to attract the attention of committees. As was
remarked by a personage noted for his complicity in these
transactions-" Committees are getting too knowing; they
won't stand that dodge now." Nevertheless, the thing is
still done under a disguised form. Though contractors no
lon er enter their own names on subscription lists for
thousands of shares; yet they effect the same end by
making nominal holders of their foremen and others:
themselves being the real ones.
Of directorial misdoings some samples have already
been referred to; and more might be added.  Besides
those arising from directly personal -aims, there are sundry
others.  One of these is the still-increasing community
between railway boards and the House of Commons.
There are eighty-one directors sitting in Parliament; and
though many of these take little or no part in the affairs
of their respective railways, many of them are the most
active members of the boards to which they belong. We
have but to look back a few years, and mark the unanimity with which companies adopted the policy of getting
themselves represented in the Legislature, to see that the
furtherance of their respective interests-especially in cases
of competition-was the incentive.  How well this policy
is understood among the initiated, may be judged from
the fact, that gentlemen are now in some cases elected on
boards, simply because they are members of Parliament,




276    RAILWAY MORALS AND RAILWAY POLICY.
Of course this implies that railway legislation is affected
by a complicated play of private influences; and tnai
these influences generally work towards the facilitation of
new enterprises, is tolerably obvious. It naturally hap
pens that directors whose companies are not opposed, exchange good offices. It naturally happens that they can
more or less smooth the way of their annual batch of new
bills through committees.
Moreover, directors sitting in the IIcuse of Commons
not only facilitate the passing of the schemes in which
they are interested, but are solicited to undertake further
schemes by those around them. It is a very commonsense conclusion that representatives of small towns and
country districts needing railway accommodation, who are
daily thrown in contact with the chairman of a company
capable of giving this accommodation, will not neglect
the opportunity of furthering their ends.  It is a very
common-sense conclusion that by hospitalities, by favours,
by flattery, by the many means used to bias men, they
will seek to obtain his assistance. And it is an equally
common-sense conclusion that in many cases they will
succeed-that by some complication of persuasions and
temptations they will swerve him from his calmer judg.
ment; and so introduce into the company he represents,
influences at variance with its welfare.
Under some motives, however-whether those of direct
self-interest, of private favour, or of antagonistic feeling,
need not here be discussed-it is certain that directors are
constantly committing their constituents to unwise enterprises; and that they frequently employ unjustifiable means
for either eluding or overcoming their opposition. Shareholders occasionally find that their directors have given to
Parliament pledges of extension much exceeding what
they were authorized to give; and they are then persuaded
that they are bound to endorse the promises made foi




HOW SHAREHOLDERS ARE IMPOSED UPON.    27T
them by their agents. In some cases, among the misleading statements laid before shareholders to obtain their
consent to a new project, will be found an abstract of the
earnings of a previously-executed branch or feeder to
which the proposed one bears some analogy. These earnings are shown (not always without " cooking ") to be tolerably good and improving; and it is argued that the new
project, having like prospects, offers a fair investment.
Meanwhile, it is not stated that the capital for this previously-executed branch or feeder was raised on debentures
or by guaranteed shares at a higher rate of interest than
the dividend pays; it is not stated that as the capital for
this further undertaking will be raised on like terms, the
annual interest on debt will swallow up more than the
annual revenue: and thus unsuspecting shareholderssome unacquainted with the company's antecedents, some
unable to understand its complicated accounts-give their
proxies, or raise their hands, for new works which will tell
with disastrous effect on their future dividends. In pursuit
of their ends, directors will from time to time go directly
in the teeth of established regulations. Where it has been
made a rule that proxies shall be issued only by order of a
meeting of the proprietors, they will yet issue them without any such order, when by so doing they can steal a
march on dissentients. If it suits their purpose, they will
occasionally bring forward most important measures without due notice. In stating the amount of the company's
stock which has voted with them on a division, they have
been known to include thousands of shares on which a
small sum only was paid up, counting them  as though
fully paid up.
To complete the sketch, something must be said on the
management of board meetings and meetings of shareholders. For the first-their decisions are affected by variols mancouvres. Of course, on fit occasions, there is a




278    RAILWAY MORALS AND RAILWAY POLICY.
whipping-up of those favourable to any project which it
is desired to carry. Were this all, there would be little
to complain of; but something more than this is done.
There are boards in which it is the practice to defeat opposition by stratagem. The extension party having summoned their forces for the occasion, and having entered on
the minutes of business a notice worded with the requisite
vagueness, shape their proceedings according to the character of the meeting. Should their antagonists muster
more strongly than was expected, this vaguely-worded
notice serves simply to introduce some general statement
or further information concerning the project named in it;
and the matter is passed over as though nothing more had
been meant. On the contrary, should the proportion of
the two sides be more favourable, the notice becomes the
basis of a definite motion committing the board to some
important procedure. If due precautions have been taken,
the motion is passed; and once passed, those who, if present, would have resisted it, have no remedy; for in railway governmen1t there is no " second reading," much less
a third. So determined and so unscrupulous are the efforts sometimes made by the stronger party to overcome
and silence their antagonists, that when a contested measure, carried by them at the board, has to go before a general meeting for confirmation, they have even been known
to pass a resolution that their dissentient colleagues shall
not address the proprietary!
How, at half-yearly and special meetings, shareholders
should be so readily led by boards, even after repeated experience of their untrustworthiness, seems at first sight dificult to understand. The mystery disappears, however, on
inquiry. Very frequently, contested measures are carried
quite against the sense of the meetings before which they
are laid, by means of the large number of proxies pre.
viously collected by the directors.  These proxies are




FEEBLE INFLUENCE OF SHAREHOLDERS.         279
3btained mostly from  proprietors scattered everywhere
throughout the kingdom, who are very generally weak
enough to sign the first document sent to them. Then, of
those present when the question is brought to an issue,
not many dare attempt a speech; of those who dare, but
few are clear-headed enough to see the full bearings of the
measure they are about to vote upon; and such as can see
them are often prevented by nervousness from doing justice to the views they hold.
Moreover, it must be borne in mind that the party displaying antagonism to the board are apt to be regarded
by their brother proprietors with more or less reprobation.
Unless the misconduct of the governing body has been very
glaring and very recent, there ever arises in the mass a prejudice against all playing the part of an opposition. They
are condemned as noisy, and factious, and obstructive;
and often only by determined courage avoid being put
down. Besides these negative reasons for the general inefficiency of shareholders' resistance, there are sundry positive ones. As writes a Member of Parliament who has
been an extensive holder of stock in many companies from
the first days of railway enterprise:-" My large and long
acquaintance with Railway Companies' affairs, enables me
to say, that a large majority of shareholders trust wholly
to their directors, having little or no information, nor caring to have any opinion of their own.... Some others,
better informed but timid, are afraid, by opposing the
directors, of causing a depreciation of the value of their
stock in the market, and are more alarmed at the prospect
of this temporary depreciation than at the permanent loss
entailed on the company by the useless, and therefore unprofitable, outlay of additional capital..... Others again,
believing that the impending permanent evil is inevitable,
resolve on the spot to sell out immediately, and to keep
tp the prices of their shares, also give their support to the
directors."




280)    RAILWAY MORALS AND RAILWAY POLICY.
Thus, from  lack of organization and efficiency among
those who express their opposition, and from the timidity
and double-facedness of those who do not, it happens that
extremely unwise projects are carried by large majorities.
lNor is this all.  The tactics of the aggressive party are
commonly as skilful as those of their antagonists are
bungling. In the first place, the chairman, who is very
generally the chief promoter of the contested scheme, has
it in his power to favour those who take his own side, and
to throw difficulties in the way of opponents; and this he
not unfrequently does to a great extent-refusing to hear,
putting  down on some plea of breach of order, browbeating, even using threats.* It generally turns out too,
that, whether intentionally or not, some of the most important motions are postponed until nearly the close of
the meeting, when the greater portion of the shareholders
are gone.  Large money-votes, extensive powers, unlimited permits to directors to take, in certain matters, "such
steps as in their judgment they may deem  most expedient,"-these, and the like, are left to be hurried over during the last half-hour, when the tired and impatient reinant will no longer listen to objectors; and when those
who have personal ends to serve by outstaying the rest,
carry everything their own way.   Indeed, in some instances, the arrangements are such as almost to ensure the
meeting becoming a pro-extension one towards the end.
This result is brought about thus:-A  certain portion
* We may remark in passing, that the practice of making the chairman
of the board also chairman of the half-yearly meetings, is a very injudicious one. The directors are the servants of the proprietary; and meet
them from time to time to render an account of their stewardship. That
the chief of these servants, whose proceedings are about to be examined,
enould himself act as chief of the jury, is absurd. Obviously, the business
of each meeting should be conducted by some one independently chosen fol
the purpose; as the Speaker is chosen by the House of Commons,




MANAGEMENT OF THE MEETINGS.              281
of the general body of proprietors are also proprietors of
some subordinate work-some branch line, or steamboats,
or canal, which the Company has purchased or leased;
and as holders of guaranteed stock, probably having capital to take up further such stock if they can get it, they
are naturally favourable to projects that are to be executed
on the preference-share system. These hold their meeting
for the declaration of dividend, &c., as soon as the meeting of the Company at large has been dissolved; and in
tie same room. Ience it happens, that being kept together by the prospect of subsequent business, they gradually, towards the close of the general meeting, come to
form the majority of those present; and the few ordinary
shareholders who have been patient enough to stay, are
outvoted by those having interests quite distinct from
their own-quite at variance with the welfare of the Comany.
And here this allusion to the preference-share system,
introduces us to a fact which may fitly close this detail of
private interests and questionable practices-a fact serving
at once to illustrate the subtlety and concert of railway
officialism, and the power it can exert. That this fact
may be fully appreciated, it must be premised, that though
preference-shares do not usually carry votes, they are sometimes specially endowed with them; and further, that
they occasionally remain unpaid up until the expiration
of a time after which no further calls can be legally made.
In the case in question, a large number of ~50 preference
shares had thus long stood with but ~5 paid. Those desirous of promoting extensions, &c., had here a fine opportunity of getting great power in the Company at small
cost; and as we shall see, they duly availed themselves
of it. Already had their party twice tried to thrust the
proprietary into a new undertaking of great magnitude.
Twice had they entailed on them an expensive and harass



282    RAILWAY MORALS AND RAILWAY POLICY.
ing contest. A  third time, notwithstanding a professed
relinquishment of it, they brought forward substantially
the same scheme, and were defeated only by a small majority.  The following extracts from the division lists we
take from the statement of one of the scrutineers:
501. Pre-                                         Number
ference                       Recorded Total ac- of votes
Shares Additional Stock or Shares. Stock at tual Capi- scored for
with 54                        the Poll  tal paid  the Expaid up.                       as held.    up.   tension.
~        ~
7,5001. stock, and
Fhe Company's solicitor...   00 J   100 501. shares,
with 421. 10s.      56       1914        18
paid up.               5,650   
Ditto in joint account with
another.................   78            None.
the solicitor's partner....     60        None.             3,000      800        20
fhe Company's engineer...  150             None.            7,500      750:3
Flhe engineer's partner..... 134       4,2661. stoc.       71,966   11,036       161
One of the Company's parliamentary counsel......  200         1,000. stock.       11,000    2,000       40
Another ditto, ditto.......  125         2001. stock.        6,450      825       30
Local solicitor for the proposed extension.........    7           None.              350        35        7
The Company's contractor
for permanent-way...... 47              52,833.           0,183   54,568      158
Fhe Company's conveyancer...................   1003         333. stock.        50,483    5,348      118
The Company's furniture
printer................    5        10,0001. stock.      11,750   10,175       41
The Company's surveyor..   60           1,2501. stock.      19,250    3,050       56'he Company's architect..  21   14,9161. stock; 119 501. 32,280   20,416          82
shares, with 421. 10s.
paid up; and 13 401.
shares,  with  341.
paid up.
One of the Company's carriers....................   17        8331. stock.        1,683      918       14'The Company's bankers:One partner.....................              8     2,366       90
Another partner.....................       2,500    2,500       18
Ditto in joint account
with another............           1,00       850       12
To this list, some seven or eight of the Company'M
tradesmen, similarly armed, might be added; raising the
number of the almost factitious shares held by functionaries to about 5,200, and increasing the votes commanded
by them, from  its present total of 1,068 to upwards of
1,100.  If now  we separate the ~380,000, which these




CHARACTER OF SHAREHOLDERS.            283
gentlemen bring to bear against their brother shareholders, into real and nominal, we find that while not quite
~120,000 of it is bond fide property invested, the remain.
ing ~260,000 is nine parts shadow and one part substance.
And thus it results, that by virtue of certain stock actually
representing but ~26,000, these lawyers, engineers, counsel, conveyancers, contractors, bankers, and others interested in the promotion of new schemes, outweigh more
than a quarter of a million of the real capital held by
shareholders whom these schemes will injure!
Need we any longer wonder, then, at the persistence
of Railway Companies in seemingly reckless competition
and ruinous extensions? Is not this obstinate continuance of a policy that has year after year proved disastrous, sufficiently explicable on contemplating the many
illegitimate influences at work? Is it not manifest that
the small organized party always outmanceuvres the large
unorganized one?  Consider their respective characters
and circumstances.  Here are the shareholders diffused
throughout the whole kingdom, in towns and country
houses; knowing nothing of each other, and too remote
to cooperate were they acquainted. Very few of them see
a railway journal; not many a daily one; and scarcely
any know much of railway politics. Necessarily a fluctuating body, only a small number are familiar with the
Company's history-its acts, engagements, policy, management. A great proportion are incompetent to judge
of the questions that come before them, and lack decision
to act out such judgments as they may form-executors
who do not like to take steps involving much responsibility; trustees fearful of interfering with the property under their care, lest possible loss should entail a lawsuit;
widows who have never in their lives acted for themselves
in aly affair of moment; maiden ladies, alike nervous and




284    RAILWAY MORALS AND RAILWAY POLICY.
innocent of all business knowledge; clergymen whose
daily discipline has been little calculated to make them
acute men of the world; retired tradesmen whose retail
transactions have given them small ability for grasping
large considerations; servants possessed of accumulated
savings and cramped notions; with sundry others of like
helpless character —all of them rendered more or less conservative by ignorance or timidity, and proportionately
inclined to support those in authority. To these should
be added the class of temporary shareholders, who, having
bought stock on speculation, and knowing that a revolution in the Company is likely to depress prices for a time,
have an interest in supporting the board irrespective of
the goodness of its policy.
Turn now to those whose efforts are directed to railway expansion. Consider the constant pressure of local
interests-of small towns, of rural districts, of landown.
ers: all of them eager for branch accommodation; all of
them with great and definite advantages in view; few of
them conscious of the loss those advantages may entail on
others. Remember the influence of legislators, prompted,
some by their constituents, some by personal aims, and
encouraged by the belief that additional railway facilities
are in every case nationally beneficial; and then calculate
the extent to which, as stated to Mr. Cardwell's committee, Parliament has " excited and urged forward" Companies into rivalry.  Observe the temptations under which
lawyers are placed-the vast profits accruing to them from
every railway contest, whether ending in success or failure; and then imagine the magnitude and subtlety of'
their extension manceuvring. Conceive the urgency of the
engineering profession; to the richer of whom more railway-making means more wealth; to the mass of whom
more railway-making means daily bread. Estimate the
capitalist-power of contractors; whose unemployed planl




PRESSURE OF CLASS-INTERESTS.            285
brings heavy loss; whose plant whs e la  en employed brings
great gain.  Then recollect that to lawyers, engineers,
and contractors the getting up and executing of new undertakings is a business-a business to which every energy is directed; in which long years of practice have
given great skill; and to the facilitation of which, all
means tolerated by men of the world are thought justifiable.
Finally, consider that the classes interested in carrying
out new schemes, are in constant communication, and have
every facility for combined action. A great part of them
live in London, and most of these have offices at Westminster-in Great George Street, in Parliament Street,
clustering round the Legislature. Not only are they thus
concentrated-not only are they throughout the year in
frequent business intercourse; but during the session they
are daily together, in Palace-Yard Hotels, in the lobbies,
in the committee-rooms, in the I-ouse of Commons itself.
Is it any wonder then, that the wide-spread, ill-informed,
unorganized  body of shareholders, standing  severally
alone, and each preoccupied with his daily affairs, should
be continually outgeneralled by the comparatively small
but active, skilful, combined body opposed to them, whose
very occupation is at stake in gaining the victory?
" But how about the directors?" it will perhaps be
asked.  " Iow can they be parties to these obviously un.
wise undertakings?  They are themselves shareholders:
they gain by what benefits the proprietary at large; they
lose by what injures it.  And if without their consent, or
rather their agency, no new scheme can be adopted by the
Company, the classes interested in fostering railway enterprise are powerless to do harm."
This belief in the identity of directorial and proprietary interests, is the fatal error commonly made by share.
holders.  It is this which, in spite of many bitter expe




286    RAILWAY MORALS AND RAILWAY POLICY.
riences, leads them  to be so careless and so trustful
Their profit is our profit; their loss is our loss; they
know more than we do; therefore let us leave the matter
to them."  Such is the argument which more or less definitely passes through the shareholding mind-an argument of which the premises are vicious, and the inference
disastrous. Let us consider it in detail.
Not to dwell upon the disclosures that have in years
past been made respecting the share-trafficking of boards,
and the large profits realized by it-disclosures which
alone suffice to disprove the assumed identity between the
interests of directors and proprietary-and taking for
granted that little, if any,. of this now takes place; let us
go on to notice the still-prevailing influences which render
this apparent unity of purpose illusive. The immediate
interest which directors have in the prosperity of the Company, is often much less than is supposed. Occasionally
they possess only the bare qualification of ~1,000 worth
of stock. In some instances even this is partly nominal.
Admitting, however, as we do frankly, that in the great
majority of cases the full qualification, and much more
than the qualification, is held; yet it must be borne in
mind that the indirect advantages which a wealthy memnber of a board may gain from the prosecution of a new
undertaking, will often far outweigh the direct injury it
will inflict on him by the depreciation of his shares. A
board usually consists, to a considerable extent, of gentlemen residing at different points throughout the tract of
country traversed by the railway they control: some of
them  landowners; some merchants or manufacturers;
some owners of mines or shipping. Almost always these
are advantaged more or less by a new branch or feeder.
Those in close proximity to it, gain either by enhanced
value of their lands, or by increased facilities of transit
for their commodities.  Those at more remote paTcr of the




DIMECTORS NOT TO BE DEPENDED UPON.    287
main line, though less directly interested, are still fiequently interested in some degree: for every extension
opens up new markets either for produce or raw materials; and if it is one effecting a junction with some other
system of railways, the greater mercantile conveniences
afforded to directors thus circumstanced, become import.
ant.
Obviously, therefore, the indirect profits accruing to
such from one of these new undertakings, may more than
counterbalance the direct loss upon their railway investments; and though there are, doubtless, men far to honourable to let such considerations sway them, yet the generality can scarcely fail to be affected by temptations so
strong. Then we have further to remember the influences
brought to bear upon directors having seats in Parliament.
Already these have been noticed; and we recur to them
only for the purpose of pointing out that the immediate
evil of an increased discount on his ~1,000 worth of stock,
may be to a director of much less consequence than the
favours, patronage, connections, position, which his aid
in carrying a new scheme will bring him-a consideration
which, without saying how  far it applies, suffices to
show that in this respect, also, the supposed identity of
interests between directors and shareholders does not hold.
Moreover, the disunion of interests produced by these
influences is increased by the system of preference-stock.
Were there no other cause in action, this practice of raising capital for supplementary undertakings, by issuing
shares bearing a guaranteed interest of 5, 6, and 7 per
cent., would alone destroy that community of motives
supposed to exist between a railway proprietary and its
executive. Little as the fact is at present recognized, it is
yet readily demonstrable that by raising one of these
mortgages, a Company is forthwith  divided into two
classes: the one consisting of the richer shareholders, n1 3




288    RAILWAY MORALS AND RAILWAY POLICY.
elusive of the directors, and the other of the poorer share.
holders; of which classes the richer one can protect itself
firom the losses which the poorer one has to bear —nay,
can even profit by the losses of the poorer one. This assertion, startling as it will be to many, we will proceed to
prove.
When the capital required for a branch or extension is
raised by means of guaranteed shares, it is the custom to
give each proprietor the option of taking up a number of
such shares proportionate to the number of his original
shares. By availing himself of this offer, he more or less
effectually protects himself against any possible loss which
the new undertaking may entail. Should this, not fulfilling the promises of its advocates, diminish in some degree
the general dividend; yet, a high dividend on the due
proportion of preference-stock, may nearly or quite compensate for this. Hence, it becomes the policy of all who
can do so, to take up as many guaranteed shares as they
can get. But what happens when the circular announcing
this apportionment of guaranteed shares is sent round to
the proprietary?  Those who possess much stock, being
generally capitalists, forthwith apply for as many as they
are entitled to. On the other hand, the smaller holders,
constituting as they do the bulk of the Company, having
no available funds with which to pay the calls on new
shares, are obliged to decline them.  What results?
When this additional line has been opened, and it turns
out, as usual, that its revenue is insufficient to meet the
guaranteed dividend on its shares-when the general income of the Company is laid under contribution to make
up this guaranteed dividend-when as a consequence, the
dividend on the original stock is diminished; then tile
poorer shareholders who possess original stock only, find
themselves losers; while the richer ones, possessing guaranteed shares in addition. find that their gain on prefer.




DISADVANTAGES OF SMALL SHAREHOLDERS.   289
ence-dividends nearly or quite counterbalances their loss on
general dividends.
Indeed, as above hinted, the case is even worse. For
as the large share-proprietor who has obtained his proportion of guaranteed stock, is not obliged to retain his original stock-as, if he doubts the paying character of the
new  undertaking, he can always sell such part of his
shares as will suffer from it; it is obvious that he may, if
he pleases, become the possessor of preference-shares only;
and may so obtain a handsome return for his money at the
expense of the Company at large and the small shareholders in particular.  How far this policy is pursued we do
not pretend to say. All which it here concerns us to no
tice, is, that directors being mostly men of large means
and being therefore able to avail themselves of this guaranteed stock, by which at least much loss may be warded
off if not profit made, are liable to be swayed by motives
different from those of the general proprietary. And that
they often are so swayed there cannot be a doubt. Without assuming any of them to be guilty of so flagitious an
intention as that of benefiting at the cost of their co-proprietors; and believing, as we do, that few of them duly
realize the fact that the protection they will have, is a
protection not available to the mass of the shareholders;
we think it is a rational deduction from  common experience, that this prospect of compensation will often turn
the scale in the minds of those who are hesitating, and
diminish the opposition on the part of those who disapprove.
Thus, the beiief which leads the majority of railway
shareholders to place implicit faith in their directors, is an
erroneous one.  It is not true that there is an identity ol
interest between the proprietary and its executive. It is
not true that the board forms an efficient guard against
the mntriglles of lawyers, engineers, contractors, and others




290    RAILWAY MORALS AND RAILWAY POLICY.
who profit by railway-making.  On the contrary, it is true
that its members are not only liable to be drawn from
their line of duty by various indirect motives, but that by
the system of guaranteed shares they are placed under a
positive temptation to betray their constituents.
And now what is the proximate origin of all these corruptions? and what is the remedy for them?  What general error in railway legislation is it that has made possible such complicated chicaneries?  Whence arises this
facility with which interested persons continually thrust
companies into unwise enterprises? We believe there is
a very simple answer to these questions. It is an answer,
however, which will at first sight be thought quite irrelevant: and we doubt not that the corollary we propose
drawing from it, will be forthwith condemned by practical men as incapable of being acted on. Nevertheless, if
such will give us a little time to explain, we are not without hope of showing, both that the evils laboured under
would be excluded were this principle recognized, and that
the recognition of it is not only feasible, but would even
open the way out of sundry perplexities in which railway
legislation is at present involved.
We conceive, then, that the fundamental vice of our
system, as hitherto carried out, lies in the misinterpretation of the proprietary contract-the contract tacitly entered into between each shareholder and the body of
shareholders with whom he unites; and that the remedy
desired lies simply in the enforcement of an equitable in
terpretation of this contract. In reality it is a strictly
limited one: in practice it is treated as altogether unlimited: and the thing needed is, that it should be clearly
defined and abided by.
Our popular form of government has so habituated us
to seeing public questions decided by the voice of the ma




ROOT OF THESE CORRUPTIONS.           291
Jority, and the system is so manifestly equitable in the
cases daily before us, that there has been produced in the
general mind, an unhesitating belief that the majority's
power is unbounded. Under whatever circumstances, or
for whatever ends, a number of men cooperate, it is held
that if difference of opinion arises among them, justice requires that the will of the greater number shall be executed rather than that of the smaller number; and this
rule is supposed to be uniformly applicable, be the question at issue what it may. So confirmed is this conviction, and so little have the ethics of the matter been considered, that to most this mere suggestion of a doubt will
cause some astonishment. Yet it needs but a brief analysis to show that the opinion is little better than a political
superstition. Instances may readily be selected, which
prove, by reductio ad absurdum, that the right of a majority is a purely conditional right, valid only within specific limits. Let us take a few.
Suppose that at the general meeting of some philanthropic association, it was resolved that in addition to relieving distress the association should employ home-missionaries to preach down popery. Might the subscriptions
of Catholics, who had joined the body with charitable
views, be rightfully used for this end? Suppose that of
the members of a book-club, the greater number, thinking
that under existing circumstances rifle-practice was more
important than reading, should decide to change the purpose of their union, and to apply the funds in hand for
the purchase of powder, ball, and targets. Would the
rest be bound by this decision? Suppose that under the
excitement of news from Australia, the majority of a Freehold Land Society should determine, not simply to start
m a body for the gold diggings, but to use their accumulated capital to provide outfits. Would this appropriation of property be just to the minority? and must these




292    IWtPWAY MORALS AND RAILWAY POLICY.
join the expedition? Scarcely any one would venture an
affirmative answer even to the first of these questions;
much less to the others. And why? Because every one
must perceive that by uniting himself with others, no man
can equitably be betrayed into acts utterly foreign to the
purpose for which he joined them. Each of these supposed minorities would properly reply to those seeking
to coerce them: " We combined witJ you for a defined
object; we gave money and time for the furtherance
of that object; on all questions thence arising, we tacitly
agreed to conform to the will of the greater number; but
we did not agree to conform  on any other questions.
If you induce us to join you by professing a certain end,
and then undertake some other end of which we were not
apprised, you obtain our support under false pretences;
you exceed the expressed or understood compact to which
we committed ourselves; and we are no longer bound by
your decisions."
Clearly this is the only rational interpretation of the
matter. The general principle underlying the right government of every incorporated body is, that its members contract with each other severally to submit to the will of the
majority in all matters concerning the fulftlent of the objects for which they are incorporaatcd; but in no others.
To this extent only can the contract hold. For as it is implied in the very nature of a contract, that those entering
into it must know what they contract to do; and as those
who unite with others for a specified object, cannot contemplate all the unspecified objects which it is hypothetically possible for the union to undertake; it follows that
the contract entered into cannot extend to such unspeci.
fied objects; and if there exists no expressed or understood contract between the union and its members respectinlg unspecified objects, then for the majority to coerce the
minority into undertaking them, is nothing less than gross
tyranny.




THE DIFFICULTY A BREACH OF CONTRACT.    293
Now this almost self-evident principle is wholly ignored alike in our railway legislation and the proceedings
of our companies. Definite as is the purpose with which
the promoters of a public enterprise combine, endless
other purposes not dreamed of at the outset are commonly'
added to it; and this, apparently without any suspicion
that such a course is altogether unwarrantable, unless
taken with the unanimous consent of the proprietors.
The unsuspecting shareholder who signed the subscription
contract for a line from Greatborough to Grandport, did
io under the belief that this line would not only be a pub.
lic benefit but a good investment. He was familiar with
the country. He had been at some trouble to estimate
the traffic. And, fully believing that he knew what he
was embarking in, he put down his name for a large
amount. The line has been made; a few years of prosperity have justified his foresight; when, at some fatal
special meeting, a project is put before him for a branch
from  Littlehomestead to Stonyfield.  The will of the
board and the intrigues of the interested, overbear all opposition; and in spite of the protests of many who like
him see its impolicy, he presently finds himself involved
in an undertaking which, when he joined the promoters
of the original line, he had not the remotest conception
would ever be proposed. From year to year this proceeding is repeated. His dividends dwindle and his shares
go down; and eventually the congeries of enterprises to
which he is committed, grows so vast that the first enterprise of the series becomes buv a small fraction of the
whole.
Yet it is in virtue of his consent to this first of the
series, that all the rest are thrust upon him. He feels that
there is an injustice somewhere; but, believing in the unlimited right of a majority, fails to detect it. Ile does
not see that when the first of these extensions was pro



294    RAILWAY MORALS AND RAILWAY POLICY.
posed, lie should have denied the power of his brother
shareholders to implicate him in an undertaking not named
in their deed of incorporation.  He should have told the
advocates of this new undertaking that they were perfectly free to form a separate Company for the execution
of it; but that they could not rightfully compel dissentients to join in a new project, any more than they could
rightfully have compelled dissentients to join in the original project. Had such a shareholder united with others
for the specified general purpose of making railways, he
would have had no ground for protest. But he united
with others for the specified purpose of making a particular railway. Yet such is the confusion of ideas on the
subject, that there is absolutely no difference recognized
between these cases!
It will doubtless be alleged in defence of all this, that
these secondary enterprises are supplementary to the original one-or in some sense undertaken for the furtherance
of it; professedly minister to its prosperity; cannot, therefore, be regarded as altogether separate enterprises. And
it is true that they have this for their excuse. But if it is
a sufficient excuse for accessories of this nature, it may be
made a sufficient excuse for any accessories whatever.
Already, Companies have carried the practice beyond the
making of branches and extensions. Already, under the
plea of bringing more traffic to their lines, they have constructed docks; bought lines of steam-packets; built vast
hotels; deepened river-channels. Already, they have created small towns for their workmen; erected churches
and schools; salaried clergymen and teachers. Are these
warranted on the ground of advancing the Companies'
interests?  Then thousands of other undertakings are siln
ilarly warranted.
If a view to the development of traffic justifies the
makirf of a branch to some neighbouring coal-mines




WHERE THE PRINCIPLE LEADS.           29 
then, should the coal-mines be inefficiently worked, the
same view would justify the purchase of them-would
justify the Company in becoming coal-miner and coalseller. If anticipated increase of goods and passengers is
a sufficient reason for carrying a feeder into an agricultural
district, then it is a sufficient reason for organizing a system of coaches and wagons to run in connection with
this feeder; for making the requisite horse-breeding establishments; for hiring the needful farms; for buying
estates; for becoming agriculturists. If it be allowable
to purchase steamers plying in conjunction with the railway; it must be allowable to purchase merchant vessels
to trade in conjunction with it; it must be allowable to
set up a yard for building such vessels; it must be allowable to erect depots at foreign ports for the receipt of
goods; it must be allowable to employ commission agents
for the collection of such goods; it must be allowable to
extend a mercantile organization all over the world.
From making its own engines and carriages, a Company
may readily progress to manufacturing its own iron and
growing its own timber. From giving its employes secular and religious instruction, and providing houses for
them, it may go on to supply them with food, clothing,
medical attendance, and all the needs of life. Beginning
simply as a corporation to make and work a railway between A and B, it may become a miner, manufacturer,
merchant, ship-owner, canal-proprietor, hotel-keeper, landowner, house-builder, farmer, retail-trader, priest, teacheran organization of indefinite extent and complication.
There is no logical alternative between permitting this,
and strictly limiting the corporation to the object first
agreed upon. A man joining with others for a specific
purpose, must be held to commit himself to that purpose
only, or else to all purposes whatever that they may choose
to undertake.




296    RAILWAY MORALS AND RAILWAY POLICY.
But proprietors dissenting from  one of these supple
mentary projects are told that they have the option of
selling out. So might the dissentients from a new Stateenforced creed be told, that if they did not like it they
might leave the country. The one reply is little more satisfactory than the other would be. The opposing shareholder sees himself in possession of a good investmentone perhaps which, as an original subscriber, he ran some
risk in obtaining. This investment is about to be endangered by an act not named in the deed of incorporation.
And his protests are met by saying, that if he fears the danger he may part with his investment. Surely this choice
between two evils scarcely meets his claims. Moreover,
he has not even this in any fair sense. It is often an unfavourable time to sell. The very rumour of one of these
extensions frequently causes a depreciation of stock. And
if many of the minority throw their shares on the market,
this depreciation is greatly increased; a fact which further hinders them from selling. Thus, the choice is in reality between parting with a good investment at much
less than its value, and running the risk of having its value
greatly diminished.
The injustice thus inflicted on minorities is, indeed, already recognized in a certain vague way. The recentlyestablished Standing Order of the House of Lords, that
before a Company can carry out any new undertaking,
three-fourths of the votes of the proprietors shall be recorded in its favour, clearly implies a perception that the
usual rule of the majority does not apply. And again, in
the case of the Great Western Railway Company versus
Rushout, the decision that the funds of the Company
could not be used for purposes not originally authorized,
without a special legislative permit, involves the doctrine
that the will of the greater number is not of unlimited
validity. In both these cases, however, it is taken foi




GOVERNMENT BOUND TO ENFORCE CONTRACTS.  297
granted that a State-warrant can justify what without it
would be unjustifiable.  We must take leave to question
this. If it be held that an Act of Parliament can make
murder proper, or can give rectitude to robbery, it may
be consistently held that it can sanctify a breach of contract; but not otherwise.  WVe are not about to enter
upon the vexed question of the standard of right and
wrong; and to inquire whether it is the function of a gov
ernment to make rules of conduct, or simply to enforce rules
deducible from the laws of social life.  WVe are contents
for the occasion, to adopt the expediency-hypothesis; and
adopting it, must yet contend, that, rightly interpreted, it
gives no countenance to this supposed power of a Government to alter the limits of an equitable contract against
the wishes of some of the contracting parties.  For, as
understood by its teachers and their chief disciples, the
doctrine of expediency is not a doctrine implying that
each particular act is to be determined by the particular
consequences that may be expected to flow from it; but
that the general consequences of entire classes of acts having been ascertained by induction from  experience, rules
shall be framed for the regulation of such classes of acts,
and each rule shall be uniformly applied to every act coming under it.  Our whole administration of justice proceeds on this principle of invariably enforcing an ordained
course, regardless of special results.  Were immediate
consequences to be considered, the verdict gained by the
rich creditor against the poor debtor would generally be
reversed; for the starvation of the last is a much greater
evil than the inconvenience of the first. Most thefts arising from  distress would go unpunished; a great portion
of men's wills would be cancelled; many of the wealthy
would be dispossessed of their fortunes.
But it is clearly seen, that were judges thus guided by
proximate evils and benefits, the ultimate result would be




298    RAILWAY MORALS AND RAILWAY POLICY.
social confusion; that what was immediately expedient
would be ultimately inexpedient; and hence the aim at
rigorous uniformity, spite of incidental hardships. Now,
the binding nature of agreements is one of the commonest and most important principles of civil law. A large
part of the causes daily heard in our courts, involve the
question, whether in virtue of some expressed or understood contract, those concerned are, or are not, boundc to
certain acts or certain payments. And when it has been
decided what the contract implies, the matter is settled.
The contract itself is held sacred. And this sacredness
of a contract, being, according to the expediency-hypothesis, justified by the experience of all nations in all times
that it is generally beneficial, it is not competent for a
Legislature to declare that contracts are violable. Assuming always that the contracts are themselves equitable, there is no rational system of ethics which warrants
the alteration or dissolving of them, save by the consent
of all concerned. If then it be shown, as we think it has
been shown, that the contract tacitly entered into by railway shareholders with each other, has definite limits; it
is the function of the Government to enforce, and not to
abolish, those limits. It cannot decline to enforce them
without running counter, not only to all theories of moral
obligation, but to its own judicial system. It cannot abolish them without glaring self-stultification.
Returning, for a moment, to the manifold evils of which
the misinterpretation of the proprietary contract was assigned as the cause, it only remains to point out that, were
the just construction of this contract insisted upon, such
evils would, in great part, be impossible. The various
illicit influences by which Companies are daily betrayed
into disastrous extensions, would necessarily be inoperative when. such extensions could not be undertaken by
them. When such extensions had to be undertaken bN




COMMIERCIAL VIEW OF THE MATTER.        299
independent bodies of shareholders, with no one to guarantee them good dividends, the local and class interests
would find it a less easy matter than at present to aggrandize themselves at the expense of others.
And now as to the policy of thus modifying railway
legislation-the commercial policy we mean.  Leaving
out of sight the more general social interests, let us glance
at the effects on mercantile interests-the proximate instead of the ultimate effects. The implication contained
in the last paragraph, that the making of branches and
supplementary lines would no longer be so facile, will be
thought to prove the disadvantage of any such limit as
the one advocated. Many will argue, that to restrict
Companies to their original undertakings would fatally
cripple railway enterprise.  Many others will remark,
that, however detrimental to shareholders this extension
system may have been, it has manifestly proved beneficial
to the public. Both these positions seem to us more than
questionable. We will first look at the last of them.
Even were travelling accommodation the sole thing to
be considered, it would not be true that prodigality in
new lines has been advantageous. The districts supplied
have, in many cases, themselves been injured by it. It is
shown by the evidence given before the Select Committee
on Railway and Canal Bills, that in Lancashire, the existence of competing lines has, in some cases, both diminished the facilities of communication and increased the
cost. It is further shown by this evidence, that a town
obtaining branches from two antagonist Companies, byand-by, in consequence of a working arrangement between these Companies, comes to be worse off than if it
had but one branch: and Hastings is quoted as an example.
It is again shown that a district may be wholly de



800    RAILWAY MORALS AND  AII WAY POLICY.
prived of railway accommodation by granting a superflll
ity of lines; as in the case of Wilts and Dorset. In
1844-'5, the Great Western and the South Western Comr
panies projected rival systems of lines, supplying these
and parts of the adjacent counties. The Board of Trade
"asserting that there was not sufficient traffic to remunerate an outlay for two independent railways," reported in
favour of the Great Western schemes, and bills were
granted for them: a certain agreement, suggested by the
Board of Trade, being at the same time made with the
South Western, which, in return for specified advantages,
conceded this district to its rival. Notwithstanding this
agreement, the South Western, in 1847, projected an extension calculated to take most of the traffic from the
Great Western extensions; and in 1848, Parliament,
though it had virtually suggested this agreement, and
though the Great Western Company had already spent a
million and a half in the part execution of the new lines,
authorized the South Western project. The result was,
that the Great Western Company suspended their works;
the South Western Company were unable, from financial
difficulties, to proceed with theirs; the district has remained for years unaccommodated; and only since the
powers granted to the South Western have expired from
delay, has the Great Western recommenced its long-suspended undertakings.
And if this undue multiplication of supplementary
lines has often directly decreased the facilities of communication, still more has it done this indirectly, by maintaining the cost of travelling on the main lines. Little as
the public are conscious of the fact, it is nevertheless true,
that they pay for the accommodation of unremunerative
districts, by high fares in remunerative districts. Before
this reckless branch-making commenced, 8 and 9 per cent.
were the dividends returned by our chief railways; and




HOW BRANCHES INJURE THE MAIN LINES.   301
these dividends were rapidly increasing. The maximum
dividend allowed by their Acts is 10 per cent. Had there
not been unprofitable extensions, this maximum would
have been reached many years since; and in the absence
of the power to undertake new works, the fact that it had
been reached could not have been hidden. Lower rates
for goods and passengers would necessarily have followed.
These would have caused a large additional traffic; and
with the aid of the natural increase otherwise going on,
the maximum would shortly again have been reached.
There can scarcely be a doubt that repetitions of this
process would, before now, have reduced the fares and
freights on our main lines to at least one-third less than
the present ones.  This reduction, be it remembered,
would have affected those railways which subserve commercial and social intercourse in the greatest degreewould, therefore, have applied to the most important part
of the traffic throughout the kingdom. As it is, however,
this greater proportion of the traffic has been heavily
taxed for the benefit of the smaller proportion. That the
tens who travel on branches might have railway communication, the hundreds who travel along main lines have
been charged 30, perhaps 40 per cent. extra. Nay, worse:
that these tens might be accommodated, the hundreds
who would have been brought on to the main lines by
lower fares have gone unaccommodated. Is it then so
clear that undertakings which have been disastrous to
shareholders have yet been beneficial to the public?
But it is not only in greater cost of transit that the
evil has been felt; it has been felt also in diminished
safety. The multiplication of railway accidents, which
has of late years drawn so much attention, has been in no
inconsiderable degree caused by the extension policy.
The relation is not obvious, and we had ourselves no conception that such a relation existed, until the facts illustra




302    RAILWAY MORALS AND RAILWAY POLICY.
tive of it were furnished to us by a director who had wit
nessed the whole process of causation. When preference
share dividends and guarantees began to make large
draughts upon half-yearly revenues-when original stock
was greatly depreciated, and the dividends upon it fell
from 9 and 8 per cent. to 4~ and 4 and 38, great dissatisfaction necessarily arose among shareholders. There were
stormy meetings, motions of censure, and committees of
investigation. Retrenchment was the general cry; and
retrenchment was carried to a most imprudent extent.
Directors with an indignant proprietary to face, and under
the fear that their next dividend would be no greater, perhaps less, than the last, dared not to lay out money for the
needful repairs. Permanent way, reported to them as requiring to be repaced, was made to serve awhile longer.
Old rolling stock was not superseded by new to the proper
extent; nor increased in proportion to the demand. Committees, appointed to examine where the expenditure
could be cut down, went round discharging a porter here,
dispensing with a clerk there, and diminishing the salaries
of the officials in general. To such a length was this
policy carried, that in one case, to effect a saving of ~1,200
per annum, the working staff was so crippled as to cause,
in the course of a few years, a loss of probably ~100,000:
such, at least, is the opinion of the gentleman on whose
authority we make this statement, who was himself one
of the retrenchment committee.
What, now, was the necessary result of all this?
With the line out of condition; with engines and carriages neither sufficient in number nor in the best working
order; with drivers, guards, porters, clerks, and the rest,
decreased to the smallest number with which it was possible to work; with inexperienced managers in place of
the experienced ones driven away by reduced salaries,
what was likely to occur? Was it not certain that an




EVILS ENTAILED BY OVER-EXTENSION.        303
tpparlltus of means just competent to deal with tte ordi.
nary traffic, would be incompetent to deal with extraordinary traffic? that a decimated body of officials under inferior regulation, would fail in the emergencies sure from
time to time to occur? that with way and works and rolling stock all below par, there would occasionally be a
concurrence of small defects, permitting something to go
wrong? Was not a multiplication of accidents inevitable? No one can doubt it. And if we trace back this
result step by step to its original cause-the reckless expenditure in new lines-we shall see further reason to
doubt whether such expenditure has been as advantageous
to the public as is supposed. We shall hesitate to indorse
the opinion of the Select Committee on Railway and Canal Bills, that it is desirable " to increase the facility for
obtaining lines of local convenience."
Still more doubtful becomes the alleged benefit accruing to the public from extensions that cause loss to shareholders, when, from considering the question as one of
traffic, we turn to consider it as a general commercial
question-a question of political economy. Were there
no facts showing that the travelling facilities gained were
counterbalanced, if not more than counterbalanced, by the
travelling facilities lost, we should still contend that the
making of branches which do not return fair dividends, is
a national evil, and not a national good. The prevalent
error committed in studying matters of this nature, consists in looking at them  separately, rather than in connection with other social wants and social benefits. Not only
does one of these undertakings, when executed, affect society in various ways, but the effort put forth in the execution of it affects society in various ways; and to form a
true estimate, the two sets of results must be compared.
The axiom that "action and reaction are equal, and in opposite directions," is true, not only in mechanics-it is true




304    RAILWAY MORALS AND RAILWAY POLICY.
everywhere.  No power can be put forth by a nation to
achieve a given end, without producing, for the time being, a corresponding inability to achieve some other end.
No amount of capital can be abstracted for one purpose,
without involving an equivalent lack of capital for another
purpose.  Every advantage wrought out by labour, is
purchased by the relinquishment of some alternative advantage which that labour might else have wrought out.
In judging, therefore, of the benefits flowing from any
public undertaking, it is requisite to consider them not by
themselves, but as contrasted with the benefits which the
invested capital would otherwise have secured.
But how can these relative benefits be measured? it
may be asked. Very simply. The rate of interest which
the capital will bring as thus respectively applied, is the
measure. Mioney which, if used for a specific end, gives
a smaller return than it would give if otherwise used, is
used disadvantageously, not only to its possessors, but to
the community. This is a corollary from the commonest
principles of political economy-a corollary so simple that
we can scarcely understand how, after the free-trade controversy, a committee, numbering among its members
Mr. Bright and Mr. Cardwell, should have overlooked it.
Have we not been long ago taught, that in the mercantile
world capital goes where it is most wanted —that the business which is at any time attracting capital by unusually
high returns, is a business proved by that very fact to be
unusually active-that its unusual activity shows society
to be making great demands upon it; giving it high prof
its; wanting its commodities or services more than othel
commodities or services?  Do not comparisons among
our railways demonstrate that thhose paying large divi.
dends are those subserving the public needs in a greatei
degree than those paying smaller dividends? and is it not
obvious that the efforts of capitalists to get these larger




MISAPPROPRIATION OF CAPITAL.           305
i vidends led them to supply the greater needs before the
lesser needs?
Surely, the same law which holds in ordinary commerce, and also holds between one railway investment
and another, holds likewise between railway investments
and other investments.  If the money spent in making
branches and feeders is yielding an average return of from
1 to 2 per cent., while if employed in land-draining or
ship-building, it would return 4 or 5 per cent. or more, it
is a conclusive proof that money is more wanted for landdraining and ship-building than for branch-making. And
the general conclusions to be drawn are, that that large
proportion of railway capital which does not pay the current rate of interest, is capital ill laid out; that if the returns
on such proportion were capitalized at the current rate of
interest, the resulting sum would represent its real value;
and that the difference between this sum and the amount
expended, would indicate the national loss-a loss which,
on the lowest estimate, would exceed ~100,000,000. And
however true it may be that the sum invested in unprofitable lines will go on increasing in productiveness, yet as,
if more wisely invested, it would similarly have gone on
increasing in productiveness, perhaps even at a greater
rate, this vast loss must be regarded as a permanent and
not as a temporary one.
Again then, we ask, is it so obvious that undertakings
which have been disastrous to shareholders have been advantageous to the public? Is it not obvious, rather, that
in this respect, as in others, the interests of shareholders
and the public are in the end identical? And does it not
seem that instead of recommending " increased facilities
for obtaining lines of local convenience," the Select Corn
mittee might properly have reported that the existing fa.
cilities are abnormally great, and should be decreased?
There remains still to be considered the other of the




306     RAILWAY MORALS AND RAILWAY POLICY.
two objections above stated as liable to be raised against
the proposed interpretation of the proprietary contractthe objection, namely, that it would be a serious hindrance
to railway enterprise.  After what has already been said,
it is scarcely needful to reply, that the hindrance would
be no greater than is natural and healthful-no greater
than is requisite to hold in check the private interests at
variance with public ones. This nution that railway enterprise will not go on with due activity without artificial
incentives-that bills for local extensions "rather need
encouragement," as the committee say, is nothing but a
remnant of protectionism.  The motive which has hith
erto led to the formation of all independent railway companies-the search of capitalists for good investmentsmay safely be left to form  others as fast as local requirements become great enough to promise fair returns; as
fast, that is, as local requirements should be satisfied.
This would be manifest enough without illustration; but
there are facts proving it.
Already we have incidentally referred to the circum.
stance, that it has of late become common for landowners,
merchants, and others locally interested, to get up rail
ways for their own accommodation, which they do not
expect to pay satisfactory dividends; and in which they
are yet content to invest considerable sums, under the belief that the indirect profits accruing to them  from in
creased facilities of traffic, will outbalance the direct loss.
To so great an extent is this policy being carried, that, as
stated to the Select Committee, " in Yorkshire and Nor
thumberland, where branch lines are being made through
mere agricultural districts, the landowners are giving their
land for the purpose, and taking shares."  With such examples before us, it cannot rationally be doubted that
there will always be capital forthcoming for making local
lines as soon as the sum of the calculated benefits, direct
and indirect, justifies its expenditure.




nOW BRANCHES ISHOULD BE CONSTRUCTED.   307
" But," it will be urged, " a branch that would be unremunerative as an independent property, is often remunerative to the company that has made it, in virtue of the
traffic it brings to the trunk line. Though yielding meagre returns on its own capital, yet, by increasing the returns on the capital of the trunk line, it compensates, or
more than compensates.  NVere the existing company,
however, forbidden to extend its undertaking, such a
branch would not be made, and injury would result."
This is all true, with the exception of the last assertion,
that such a branch would not be made. Though in its
corporate capacity the company owning the trunk line
would be unable to join in a work of this nature, there
would be nothing to prevent individual shareholders in
the trunk line from doing so to any extent they thought
fit: and were the prospects as favourable as is assumed,
this course, being manifestly advantageous to individual
shareholders, would be pursued by many of them. If,
acting in concert with others similarly circumstanced, the
owner of ~10,000 worth of stock in the trunk line, could
aid the carrying out of a proposed feeder promising to return only 2 per cent. on its cost, by taking shares to the
extent of ~1,000, it would answer his purpose to do this,
providing the extra traffic it brought would raise the
trunk-line dividend by one-fourth per cent. Thus, under
a limited proprietary contract, companies would still, as
now, foster extensions where they were wanted; the only
difference being, that in the absence of guaranteed dividends, some caution would be shown, and the poorer
shareholders would not, as at present, be sacrificed to the
richer.
In brief, our position is, that whenever, by the efforts
of all parties to be advantaged-local landowners, manu
facturers, merchants, trunk-line shareholders, &c., the capital for an extension can be raised-whenever it becomes




308    RAILWAY MORALS AND RAILWAY POLICY.
clear to all such, that their indirect profits plus their direct
profits will make the investment a paying one; the fact is
proof that the line is wanted. On the contrary, whenever
the prospective gains to those interested are insufficient to
induce them to undertake it, the fact is proof that the line
is not wanted so much as other things are wanted, and
therefore ought not to be made. Instead, then, of the principle we advocate being objectionable as a check to railway enterprise, one of its merits is, that by destroying the
artificial incentives to such enterprise, it would confine it
within normal limits.
A perusal of the evidence given before the Select Committee will show that it has sundry other merits, which
we have space only to indicate.
It is estimated by Mr. Laing-and Mr. Stephenson,
while declining to commit himself to the estimate, "does
not believe he has overstated it "-that out of the ~280,000,000 already raised for the construction of out railways,
~70,000,000 has been needlessly spent in contests, in duplicate lines, in " the multiplication of an immense number of schemes prosecuted at an almost reckless expense;"
and Mr. Stephenson believes that this sum is " a very inadequate representative of the actual loss in point of con.
venience, economy, and other circumstances connected
with traffic, which the public has sustained by reason of
parliament     ary carelessness in legislating for railways."
Under an equitable interpretation of the proprietary contract, the greater part of this would have been avoided.
The competition between rival companies in extension
and branch-making, which has already done vast injury,
and the effects of which, if not stopped, will, in the opin
ion of Mr. Stephenson, be such that " property now pay.
ing 5- per cent. will in ten years be worth only 3 per cent.
and that on twenty-one millions of money"-this compe
tition could never have existed in its intense and delete
rious form under the limiting principle we advocate.




NEED OF NORM AL CoMPETIrrIN.          309
Prompted by jealousy and antagonism, our companies
[have obtained powers for 2,000 miles of railway which
they have never made. The millions thus squandered in
surveys and parliamentary contests-" food for lawyers
and engineers "-would nearly all have been saved, had
each supplementary line been obtainable only by an independent body of proprietors with no one to shield them
from the penalties of reckless scheming.
It is admitted that the branches and feeders constructed
from competitive motives have not been laid out in the
best directions for the public.  To defeat, or retaliate
upon, opponents, having been one of the ends-often the
chief end-in making them, routes have been chosen especially calculated to effect this end; and the local traffic
has in consequence been ill provided for.  Had these
branches and feeders, however, been left to the enterprise
of their respective districts, aided by such other enterprise
as they could attract, the reverse would have been the
fact: seeing that on the average, in these smaller cases, as
in the greater ones, the routes which most accommodate
the public must be the routes most profitable to projectors.
Were the illegitimate competition in extension-making
done away, there would remain between companies just
that normal competition which is advantageous to all. It
is not true, as is alleged, that there cannot exist between
railways a competition analogous to that which exists between traders. The evidence of Mr. Saunders, the Secretary of the Great Western Company, proves the contrary.
He shows that where the Great Western and the North
Western railways communicate with the same towns, as
at Birmingham and Oxford, each has tacitly adopted the
fare which the other was charging; and that while there
is thus no competition in fares, there is competition in
speed and accommodation.  The results are, that each
takes that portion of the traffic, which, in virtue of its po.




310    RAILWAY MORALS AND RAILWAY POLICY.
sition and local circumstances, naturally falls to its share,
that each stimulates the other to give the greatest advantages it can afford; and that each keeps the other in order
by threatening to take away its natural share of the traffic, if, by ill-behaviour or inefficiency, it counterbalances
the special advantages it offers. Now, this is just the
form which competition eventually assumes between traders. After it has been ascertained by underselling what
is the lowest remunerative price at which any commodity
can be sold, the general results are, that that becomes the
established price; that each trader is content to supply
those only who, from proximity or other causes, naturally
come to him; and that only when he treats his customers
badly, need he fear that they will inconvenience themselves by going elsewhere for their goods.
Is there not, then, pressing need for an amendment of
the laws affecting the proprietary contract-an amendment which shall transform it from an unlimited into a
limited contract; or rather not transform it into such, but
recognize it as such? If there be truth in our argument,
the absence of any limitation has been the chief cause of
the manifold evils of our railway administration. The
share-trafficking of directors; the complicated intrigues
of lawyers, engineers, contractors, and others; the betrayal
of proprietaries-all the complicated corruptions which we
have detailed, have primarily arisen from it, have been
iade possible by it.  It has rendered travelling more
costly and less safe than it would have been; and while
apparently facilitating traffic, has indirectly hindered it.
By fostering antagonism, it has led to the ill laying-out of
supplementary lines; to the wasting of enormous sums in
useless parliamentary contests; to the loss of an almost
incredible amount of national capital in the making of
railways for which there is no due requirement.  Regarded




EXTENT OF THE INTERESTS INVOLVED.         311
il the mass, the investments of shareholders have been
reduced by it to less than half the average productiveness
which such investments should possess; and, as all authorities admit, railway property is, even now, kept below
its real value, by the fear of future depreciations consequent on future extensions.
Considering, then, the vastness of the interests at
stake-considering that the total capital of our companies
will soon reach ~300,000,000-considering, on the one
hand, the immense number of persons owning this capital
(many of them  with no incomes but what are derived
from it), and, on the other hand, the great extent to which
the community is concerned, both directly as to its commercial facilities, and indirectly as to the economy of its
resources-considering all this, it becomes extremely impotrtant that railway property should be placed on a secure
footing, and railway enterprise confined within normal
bounds. The change is demanded alike for the welfare of
shareholders and the public; and it is one which equity
manifestly dictates. No charge of over-legislation can be
brought against it. It is simply an extension to joint-stock
contracts, of the principle applied to all other contracts;
it is merely a fulfilment of the State's judicial function in
cases hitherto neglected; it is nothing but a better admin
stl: ation of justice.
14




VIII.
GRACEFULNESS.
HTIE doctrine that Beauty is our general name for certain qualities of things which are habitually associated with our gratifications, and that thus our idea of
beauty is a result of accumulated pleasurable experiences
-a doctrine with which, under an expanded form, I wholly
agree-has not, I think, been applied to that quality of
form and movement which we term Grace.
The attribute to which we apply this term clearly implies some perfection in the thing possessing it. We do
not ascribe this attribute to cart-horses, tortoises, and hippopotami, in all of which the powers of movement are
imperfectly developed; but we do ascribe it to greyhounds, antelopes, racehorses, all of which have highly
efficient locomotive organs. What, then, is this distinctive
peculiarity of structure and action which we call Grace?
One night while watching a dancer, and inwardly condemning her tours de force as barbarisms which would be
nissed, were not people such cowards as always to applaud
what they think it the fashion to applaud, I remarked
that the truly graceful motions occasionally introduced,
were those performed with comparatively little effort.
And remembering sundry confirmatory facts, I presently




GRAC7 THE ECONOMY OF MUSCULAR EFFORT.  313
came to the general conclusion, that, given a certain
change of attitude to be gone through-a certain action
to be achieved, then it is most gracefully achieved when
achieved with the least expenditure of force. In othei
words, grace, as applied to motion, describes motion that
is effected with an economy of muscular power; grace, as
applied to animal forms, describes forms capable of this
economy; grace, as applied to postures, describes postures
that may be maintained with this economy; and grace, as
as applied to inanimate objects, describes such as exhibit
certain analogies to these attitudes and forms.
That this generalization, if not the whole truth, contains at least a large part of it, will, I think, become obvious, on considering how habitually we couple the words
easy and graceful; and still more, on calling to mind
some of the facts on which this association is based. The
attitude of a soldier, drawing himself bolt upright when
his sergeant shouts "attention," is more remote from
gracefulness than when he relaxes at the words " stand at
ease."  The gauche visitor sitting stiffly on the edge of
his chair, and his self-possessed host, whose limbs and
body dispose themselves as convenience dictates, are contrasts as much in effort as in elegance. When standing,
we commonly economize power by throwing the weight
chiefly on one leg, which we straighten to make it serve
as a column, while we relax the other; and to the same
end, we allow the head to lean somewhat on one side.
Both these attitudes are imitated in sculpture as elements
of grace.
Turning from attitudes to movements, our current remarks will be found to imply the same relationship.  No
one praises as graceful, a walk that is irregular and jerking,
and so displays waste of power; no one sees any beauty in
the waddle of a fat man, or the trembling steps of an invalid,
in both of which effort is visible. But the style of walk



314                  GRACEFULNESS.
ing wve admire is moderate in velocity, perfe(tly rhLthk
mical, unaccompanied by violent swinging of the arms,
and giving us the impression that there is no conscious
exertion, and, at the same time, that there is no force
thrown away. In dancing, again, the prevailing difficulty
-the proper disposal of the hands and arms-well illustrates the same truth. Those who fail in overcoming this
difficulty give the spectator the impression that their
arms are a trouble to them; they are held stiffly in some
meaningless attitude, at an obvious expense of power;
they are checked from swinging in the directions in which
they would naturally swing; or they are so moved, that,
instead of helping to maintain the equilibrium, they endanger it. A good dancer, on the contrary, makes us feel
that, so far from the arms being in the way, they are of
great use. Each motion of them, while it seems naturally
to result from a previous motion of the body, is turned to
some advantage. We perceive that it has facilitated instead of hindered the general action; or, in other wordsthat an economy of effort has been achieved. Any one
wishing to distinctly realize this fact, may readily do so
by studying the action of the arms in walking. Let him
place his arms close to his sides, and there keep them,
while walking with some rapidity.  I-e will unavoidably
fall into a backward and forward motion of the shoulders,
of a wriggling, ungraceful character.  After persevering
in this for a space, until he finds, as he will do, that the
action is not only ungraceful but fatiguing, let him suddenly allow his arms to swing as usual. The wriggling
of the shoulders will cease; the body will be found to
move equably forward; and comparative ease will be felt.
On analyzing this fact, he may perceive that the backward
motion of each arm is simultaneous with the forward motion of the corresponding leg; and, if he will attend to
his muscular sensations, he will find (what if a matheniati




AS SEEN  IN DANCING AND  SKATING.                 315
cian he will recognize as a consequence of the law  that
action and reaction are equal and opposite) that this backward swing of the arm  is a counterbalance to the forward
swing  of the leg; and that it is easier to produce this
counterbalance by moving the arm  than by contorting the
body, as he otherwise must do.'
The action of the arms in walking being  thus understood, it will be manifest that the graceful employment of
them in dancing is simply a complication of the same
thing; and that a good dancer is one having so acute a
muscular sense as at once to feel in what direction the
arms should be moved to most readily counterbalance any
motion of the body or legs.
This connection between gracefulness and economy of
force, will be most vividly recognized by those who skate.
They will remember that all early attempts, and especially
the  first timid  experiments in  figure  skating, are alike
awkward and fatiguing; and that the acquirement of skill
is also the acquirement of ease.  The requisite confidence,
and a due command  of the feet having  been  obtained,
* A parallel fact, further elucidating this, is supplied by every locomotive engine. On looking at the driving-wheel, there will be found besides
the boss to which the connecting rod is attached, a corresponding mass of
metal on the opposite side of the wheel, and equidistant from the centre;
or, if the engine be one having inside cylinders, then, on looking between
the spokes of the driving-wheel, it will be seen that against each crank is a
block of iron, similar to it in size, but projecting from the axle in the reverse direction. Evidently, being placed on opposite sides of the centre of
motion, each crank and its counterbalance move in opposite directions rela.
tively to the axle; and by so doing, neutralize each other's perturbing ef.
fects, and permit a perfectly smooth rotation. Just the same relationship
that exists between the motions of the counterbalance and the crank, exists
between the rotions of the arms and legs in walking; and in the early
days of railway locomotion, before these counterbalance weights were used,
locomotive driving-wheels were subject to violent oscillations, strictly analo
gous to those jerkings of the shoulders that arise when we walk fast with
out moving our arms.




316                   GRACEFULNESS.
those twistings of the trunk and gyrations of the arms,
previously used to maintain the balance, are found needless; the body is allowed to follow  without control the
impulse given to it; the arms to swing where they will;
and it is clearly felt that the graceful way of performing
any evolution is the way that costs least effort. Spectators can scarcely fail to see the same fact, if they look for
it. Perhaps there is no case in which they may so distinctly perceive that the movements called graceful are
those which fulfil a given end with the smallest expenditure of force.
The reference to skating suggests, that graceful motion
might be defined as motion in curved lines.  Certainly,
straight and zig-zag movements are excluded from  the
conception.  The sudden  stoppages and  irregularities
which angular movements imply, are its antithesis: for a
leading element of grace is continuity, fowingness.  It
will be found, however, that this is merely another aspect
of the same truth; and that motion in curved lines is economical motion. Given certain successive positions to be
assumed by a limb, then if it be moved in a straight line
to the first of these positions, suddenly arrested, and then
moved in another direction straight to the second position,
and so on, it is clear that at each arrest, the momentum
previously given to the limb must be destroyed at a certain cost of force, and a new momentum  given to it at a
further cost of force; whereas, if, instead of arresting the
limb at its first position, its motion be allowed to continue,
and a lateral force be impressed upon it to make it diverge
towards the second position, a curvilinear motion is the
necessary result: and by nmaking use of the original momentum, force is economized.
If the truth of these conclusions respecting graceful
movement be admitted, it cannot, I thinK, be doubted,
that graceful form  is that kind of form -vnich both inm




ITS ASSOCIATION WITH FORMS.         317
presses us with the small effort required for self-support,
and the small effort required for movement.  Were it
otherwise, there would arise the incongruity that graceful
form would either not be associated at all with graceful
movement, or that the one would habitually occur in the
absence of the other; both which alternatives being quite
at variance with our experience, we are compelled to conclude that there exists the relationship indicated. Any
one hesitating to admit this, will, I think, do so no longer
on remembering that the animals which we consider graceful, are those so slight in build as not to be burdened by
their own weight, and those noted for fleetness and agility; while those we class as ungraceful, are those which
are alike cumbrous and have the faculty of locomotion but
little developed. In the case of the greyhound, especially,
we see that the particular modification of the canine type
in which the economy of weight is the most conspicuous,
and in which the facility of muscular motion has been
brought by habit to the greatest perfection, is the one
which we call most graceful.
How trees and inanimate objects should ever come to
have this epithet applied to them, will seem less obvious.
But the fact that we commonly, and perhaps unavoidably,
regard all objects under a certain anthropomorphic aspect,
will, I think, help us to understand it. The stiff branch
of an oak tree standing out at right angles to the trunk,
gives us a vague notion of great force expended to keep it
in that position; and we call it ungraceful, under the
same feeling that we call the holding out an arm at right
angles to the body ungraceful. Conversely, the lax drooping boughs of a weeping-willow are vaguely associated
with limbs in easy attitudes-attitudes requiring little
effort to maintain them: and the term graceful, by which
we describe these, we apply by metaphor to the willow.
I may as well here, in a few lines, venture the hypoth




318                GRACEFULNESS.
esis, that this notion of Grace has its subjective basis in
Sympathy. The same faculty which makes us shudder on
seeing another in danger-which sometimes causes motion
of our own limbs on seeing another struggle or fall, gives
us a vague participation in all the muscular sensations
which those around us are experiencing.  When their
motions are violent or awkward, we feel in a slight degree
the disagreeable sensations which we should have were
they our own. When they are easy, we sympathize with
the pleasant sensations they imply in those exhibiting
them.




IX.
STATE.TAMPERINGS WITH MONEY AND
BANKS.
A MONG unmitigated rogues, mutual trust is impossible. Among people of absolute integrity, mutual
trust would be unlimited. These are truisms. Given a
nation made up entirely of liars and thieves, and all trade
among its members must be carried on either by barter or
by a currency of intrinsic value: nothing in the shape of
promises to pay can pass in place of actual payments; for,
by the hypothesis, such promises being never fulfilled,
will not be taken. On the other hand, given a nation of
perfectly honest men-men as careful of others' rights as
of their own-and nearly all trade among its members
may be carried on by memoranda of debts and claims,
eventually written off against each other in the books of
bankers; seeing that as, by the hypothesis, no man will
ever issue more memoranda of debts than his goods and
his claims will liquidate, his paper will pass current for
whatever it represents: coin will be needed only as a
measure of value, and to facilitate those small transac.
tions for which it is physically the most convenient.
These we take to be self-evident truths.




320   STATE-TAMPERINGS WITH MONEY AND BANKS.
From  them follows the corollary, that in a nation
neither wholly honest nor wholly dishonest, there may,
and eventually will, be established a mixed currency-a
currency partly of intrinsic value, and partly of creditvalue. The ratio between the quantities of these two
kinds of currency, will be determined by a combination
of several causes.
Supposing that there is no legislative meddling to dis.
turb the natural balance, it is clear from what has already
been said, that, fundamentally, the proportion of coin to
paper will depend on the average conscientiousness of the
people. Daily experience must ever be teaching each citizen, which other citizens he can put confidence in, and
which not. Daily experience must also ever be teaching
him how far this confidence may be carried. From per
sonal experiment, and from current opinion which results
from the experiments of others, every one must learn,
more or less truly, what credit may safely be given. If
all find that their neighbours are little to be trusted, but
few promises-to-pay will circulate. And the circulation
of promises-to-pay will be great, if all find that the fulfilment of trading engagements is tolerably certain. The
degree of honesty characterizing a community, being the
first regulator of a credit-currency; the second is the degree of prudence.
Other things equal, it is manifest that among a sanguine, speculative people, promissory payments will be
taken more readily, and will therefore circulate more
largely, than among a cautious people. Two men having
exactly the same experiences of mercantile risks, will, under the same circumstances, respectively give credit and
refuse it, if they are respectively rash and circumspect.
And two nations thus contrasted in prudence, will be sim.
ilarly contrasted in the relative quantities of notes and
bills in circulation among them. Nay, they will be more




INFLUENCE OF MORAL CAUSES.           321
than similarly contrasted in this respect; seeing that the
prevailing incautiousness, besides making each citizen un.
duly ready to give credit, will also produce in him an
undue readiness to risk his own capital in speculations,
and a consequent undue demand for credit from other citizens. There will be both an increased pressure for credit,
and a diminished resistance; and therefore a more than
proportionate excess of paper-currency. Of this national
characteristic and its consequences, we have a conspicuous
example in the United States.
To these comparatively permanent moral causes, on
which the ordinary ratio of hypothetical to real money in
a community depends, have to be added certain temporary
moral and physical causes, which produce temporary variations in the ratio. The prudence of any people is liable
to more or less fluctuation. In railway-manias and the
like, we see that irrational expectations may spread
through a whole nation, and lead its members to give and
take credit almost recklessly. But the chief causes of
temporary variation are those which directly affect the
quantity of available capital. Wars, deficient harvests,
or losses consequent on the misfortunes of other nations,
will, by impoverishing the community, inevitably lead to
an increase in the ratio of promissory payments to actual
payments. For what must be done by the citizen disabled by such causes from meeting his engagements?-the
shopkeeper whose custom has greatly fallen off in consequence of the high price of bread; or the manufacturer
whose goods lie in his warerooms unsaleable; or the
merchant whose foreign correspondents fail him? As the
proceeds of his business do not suffice to liquidate the
claims on him that are falling due, he is compelled either
to find other means of liquidating them, or to stop pay
ment.  Rather than stop payment, he will, of course,
make temporary sacrifices-will give high terms to who.




322   STATE-TAMPERINGS WITH MONEY AND BANKS.
ever will furnish him with tne desired means. If, by depositing securities with his banker, he can get a loan at an
advanced rate of interest, well. If not, by offering an
adequate temptation, he may mortgage his property to
some one having good credit; who either gives bills, or
draws on his banker for the sum agreed on. In either
case, extra promises to pay are issued; or, if the difficulty
is met by accommodation-bills, the same result follows.
And in proportion to the number of citizens obliged to
resort to one or other of these expedients, must be the increase of promissory payments in circulation. Reduce the
proposition to its most general terms, and it becomes selfevident. Thus:-All bank-notes, cheques, bills of exchange,
etc., are so many memoranda of claims; no matter what
may be the technical distinctions among them, on which
upholders of the "currency principle" seek to establish
their dogma, they all come within this definition.
Under the ordinary state of things, the amount of
available wealth in the hands, or at the command, of those
concerned, suffices to meet these claims as they are severally presented for payment; and they are paid either by
equivalents of intrinsic value, as coin, or by giving in
place of them other memoranda of claims on somebody
of undoubted solvency. But now let the amount of available wealth in the hands of the community be greatly
diminished. Suppose a large portion of the necessaries
of life, or coin, which is the most exchangeable equivalent
of such necessaries, has been sent abroad to support an
army, or to subsidize foreign states; or, suppose that there
has been a failure in the crops of grain or potatoes. Suppose, in short, that, for the time being, the nation is imn
poverished. What follows? It follows that a proportion
of the claims cannot be liquidated. And what must happen from  their non-liquidation?  It must happen that
those unable to liquidate them will either fail, or they will




INCREASING THE MEMORANDA OF CLAIMS.    323
tedeem them by directly or indirectly giving in exchange
certain memoranda of claims on their stock-in-trade, houses
or land. That is, such of these claims as the deficient
floating capital does not suffice to meet, are replaced by
claims on fixed capital. The memoranda of claims which
should have disappeared by liquidation, reappear in a new
form; and the quantity of paper-currency is increased.
If the war, famine, or other cause of impoverishment continues, the process is repeated. Those who have no further fixed capital to mortgage, become bankrupt; while
those whose fixed capital admits, mortgage still further,
and still further increase the promissory payments in circulation. Manifestly, if the members of a community
whose annual returns but little more than suffice to meet
their annual debts, suddenly lose part of their annual re
turns, they must become proportionately in debt to each
other; and the documents expressive of debt must be
proportionately multiplied.
This d priori conclusion is in perfect harmony with
mercantile experience. The last hundred years have furnished repeated illustrations of its truth. After the enormous export of gold in 1795-'6 for war-loans to Germany,
and to meet bills drawn on the Treasury by British agents
abroad; and after large advances made under a moral
compulsion by the Bank of England to the Government,
there followed an excessive issue of bank-notes. In
1796-'7, there were failures of the provincial banks; a
panic in London; a run on the nearly-exhausted Bank of
England, and a suspension of cash-payments-a Stateauthorized refusal to redeem promises to pay. In 1800,
the further impoverishment consequent on a bad harvest,
joined with the legalized inconvertibility of bank-notes,
entailed so great a multiplication of them as to cause their
depreciation. During the temporary peace of 1802, the
Country partly recovered itself, and the Bank of England




324  STATE-TAMPERINGS WITH MONEY AND BANKS.
would have liquidated the claims on it, had the Govern
ment allowed. On the subsequent resumption of war, the
phenomenon was repeated: as in later times it has been on
each occasion when the community, carried away by irrational hopes, has locked up an undue proportion of its capital in permanent works.
Moreover, we have still more conclusive illustrationsillustrations of the sudden cessation of commercial distress and bankruptcy, resulting from a sudden increase of
credit-circulation. When, in 1793, there came a general
crash, mainly due to an unsafe banking-system which had
grown up in the provinces in consequence of the Bank of
England monopoly-when the pressure, extending to London, became so great as to alarm the Bank-directors and
to cause them suddenly to restrict their issues, thereby
producing a frightful multiplication of bankruptcies; the
Government (to mitigate an evil indirectly produced by
legislation) determined to issue Exchequer-Bills to such
as could give adequate security. That is, they allowed
hard-pressed citizens to mortgage their fixed capitals for
equivalents of State-promises to pay, with which to liquidate the demands on them.  The effect was magical.
~2,202,000 only of Exchequer-Bills were required. The
consciousness that loans could be had, in many cases prevented them from being needed. The panic quickly subsided.  And all the loans were very soon repaid. In
1825, again, when the Bank of England, after having intensified a panic by extreme restriction of its issues, suddenly changed its policy, and in four days advanced
~5,000,000 notes on all sorts of securities, the panic at
once ceased.
And now, mark two important truths. As just iri.
plied, those expansions of paper-circulation which naturally take place in times of impoverishment or commercial
difficulty, are highly salutary. This issuing of securities




SALUTARY EXPANSION OF THE CURRENCY.    325
for future payment when there does not exist the where.
with for immediate payment, is a means of mitigating national disasters. The process amounts to a postponement
of trading-engagements that cannot at once be met. And
the alternative questions to be asked respecting it areShall all the merchants, manufacturers, shopkeepers, etc.,
who, by unwise investments, or war, or famine, or great
losses abroad, have been in part deprived of the means of
meeting the claims upon them, be allowed to mortgage
their fixed capital? or, by being debarred from issuing
memoranda of claims on their fixed capital, shall they be
made bankrupts? On the one hand, if they are permitted
to avail themselves of that credit which their fellow-cititens willingly give them on the strength of the proffered
securities, most of them will tide over their difficulties: in
virtue of that accumulation of surplus capital ever going
on, they will be able, by-and-by, to liquidate their debts
in full. On the other hand, if, as they must else be, they
are forthwith bankrupted, carrying with them others, and
these again others, there follows a disastrous loss to all the
creditors: property to an immense amount being peremptorily sold at a time when there can be comparatively few
able to buy, must go at a great sacrifice; and those who
in a year or two would have been paid in full, must be
content with 10s. in the pound. Added to which evil
comes the still greater one-an extensive damage to the
organization of society. Numerous importing, producing,
and distributing establishments are swept away; tens of
thousands of their dependents are left without work; and
before the industrial fabric can be repaired, a long time
must elapse, much labour must lie idle, and great distress
be borne.  Between these alternatives, who, then, can
pause? Let this spontaneous remedial process follow its
own course, and the evil will either be in great measure
eventually escaped, or will be spread little by little over a




326   STATE-TAMPERINGS WITH MONEY AND BANKS.
considerable period. Stop this remedial process, and the
whole evil, falling at once on society, will bring widespread ruin and misery.
The second of these important truths, is, that an expanded circulation of promises to pay, caused by absolute
or relative impoverishment, contracts to its normal limits
as fast as the need for expansion disappears. For the
conditions of the case imply, that all who have mortgaged
their fixed capitals to obtain the means of meeting their
engagements, have done so on very unfavourable terms;
and are therefore under a strong stimulus to pay off their
mortgages as quickly as possible. Every one who, at a
time of commercial pressure, gets a loan from a bank, has
to give high interest. Hence, as fast as prosperity returns, and his profits accumulate, he gladly escapes this
heavy tax by repaying the loan: in doing which he takes
back to the bank as large a number of its promises to pay
as he originally received; and so diminishes the notecirculation as much as his original transaction had increased it.  Considered apart from technical distinctions,
a banker performs, in such case, the function of an agent
in whose name traders issue negotiable memoranda of
claims on their estates. The agent is already known to
the public as one who issues memoranda of claims on capital that is partly floating and partly fixed-memoranda
of claims that have an established character, and are convenient in their amounts. What the agent does under
the circumstances specified, is to issue more such memoranda of claims, on the security of more fixed, and partially-fixed, capital put in his possession. His clients hypothecate their estates through the banker, instead of doinlg it in their own names, simply because of the facilities
which he has and which they have not. And as the
banker requires to be paid for his agency and his risk, his
clients redeem their estates, and close these special trans




MIXED CURRENCY SELF-ADJUSTING.           327
actions with him, as quickly as they can: thereby diminishing the amount of credit-currency.
Thus we see that'the balance of a mixed currency is,
under all circumstances, self-adjusting. Supposing considerations of physical convenience out of the question,
he average ratio of paper to coin is primarily dependent
on the average trustworthiness of the people, and secondarily dependent on their average prudence. When, in consequence of unusual prosperity, there is an unusual increase in the number of mercantile transactions, there is a
corresponding increase in the quantity of currency, both
metallic and paper, to meet the requirement. And when
from war, famine, or over-investment, the available wealth
in the hands of citizens is insufficient to pay their debts
to each other, the memoranda of debts in circulation acquire an increased ratio to the quantity of gold: to decrease again as fast as the excess of debts can be liquidated.
That these self-regulating processes act but imperfectly,
is doubtless true. With an imperfect humanity, they cannot act otherwise than imperfectly. People who are dishonest, or rash, or stupid, will inevitably suffer the penalties of dishonesty, or rashness, or stupidity. If any think
that by some patent legislative mechanism, a society of
bad citizens can be made to work together as well as a
society of good ones, we shall not take pains to show
them the contrary. If any think that the dealings of men
deficient in uprightness and foresight, may be so regulated by cunningly-devised Acts of Parliament, as to secure
the effects of uprightness and foresight, we have nothing
to say to them.  Or if there are any (and we fear there
are numbers) who think that in times of commercial difficulty, resulting from  impoverishment or other natural
causes, the evil can be staved-off by some ministerial
sleight of hand, we despair of convincing them that the




328  STATE-TAMPERINGS WITH MONEY AND BAKS.
thing is impossible. See it or not, however, the truth is,
that the State can do none of these things. As we shall
show, the State can, and sometimes does, produce commercial disasters. As we shall also show, it can, and
sometimes does, exacerbate the commercial disasters otherwise produced. But while it can create and can make
worse, it cannot prevent.
All which the State has to do in the matter, is to discharge its ordinary office —to administer justice. The enforcement of contracts is one of the functions included in
its general function of maintaining the rights of citizens.
And among other contracts which it is called on to enforce, are the contracts expressed on credit-documentsbills of exchange, cheques, bank-notes. If any one issues
a promise-to-pay, either on demand or at specified date,
and does not fulfil that promise, the State, when appealed
to by the creditor, is bound in its protective capacity to
obtain fulfilment of the promise, at whatever cost to the
debtor; or such partial fulfilment of it as his effects suf.
fice for. The State's duty in the case of the currency, as
in other cases, is sternly to threaten the penalty of bankruptcy on all who make engagements which they cannot
meet; and sternly to inflict the penalty when called on by
those aggrieved. If it falls short of this, mischief ensues.
If it exceeds this, mischief ensues. Let us glance at the
facts.
Had we space to tra-:e in detail the history of the Bank
of England-to show Low the privileges contained in its
first charter were bribes given by a distressed Government in want of a large loan-how, soon afterwards, the
law which forbad a partnership of more than six persons
from becoming bankers, was passed to prevent the issue
of notes by the South-Sea Company, and so to preserve
the Bank-monor oly-how the continuance of State-favours




BANK OF ENGLAND MONOPOLY.             329
to the Bank-corresponded with the continuance of the
Bank's claims on the State; we should see that, fiom the
first, banking-legislation has been an organized injustice.
But passing over earlier periods, let us begin with the
events that closed the last century. Our rulers of that
day had entered into a war-whether with adequate reason, needs not here be discussed.  They had lent vast
sums of gold to their allies. They had demanded large
advances from the Bank of England, which the Bank durst
not refuse. They had thus necessitated an excessive issue
of notes by the Bank. That is, they had so greatly diminished the floating capital of the community, that engagements could not be met, and an immense number of
promises-to-pay took the place of actual payments. Soon
after, the fulfilment of these promises became so difficult
that it was forbidden by law; that is, cash-payments were
suspended. Now for these results-for the national impoverishment and consequent abnormal condition of the
currency, the State was responsible.
How much of the blame lay with the governing classes,
and how much with the nation at large, we do not pretend
to say. What it concerns us here to note, is, that the
calamity arose from the acts of the ruling power. When,
again, in 1802, after a short peace, the available capital of
the community had so far increased that the redemption
of promises-to-pay became possible, and the Bank of England was anxious to begin redeeming them, the legislature
interposed its veto; and so continued the evils of an inconvertible paper-currency after they would naturally have
ceased. Still more disastrous, however, were the results that
by-and-by ensued from State-meddlings.  Cash-payments
having been suspended-the Government, instead of enforcing all contracts, having temporarily cancelled a great
part cf them, by saying to every banker, " Yo- shall not
be called on to liquidate in coin the promises-to-pay which




330   STATE-TAMPERINGS WITH MONEY AND BANKS.
you issue," the natural checks to the multiplication of promn
ises-to-pay, disappeared. What followed? Banks being
no longer required to cash their notes in coin, and easily
obtaining from the Bank of England supplies of its notes
in exchange for fixed securities, were ready to make advances to almost any extent. Not being obliged to raise
their rate of discount in consequence of the diminution of
their available capital, and reaping a profit by every loan
(of notes) made on fixed capital, there arose both an abnormal facility of borrowing, and an abnormal desire to
lend. Thus were fostered the wild speculations of 1809speculations that were not only thus fostered, but were in
great measure caused by the previous -ver-issue of notes;
which, by further exaggerating the natural rise of prices,
increased the apparent profitableness of investments.
And all this, be it remembered, took place at a time
when there should have been rigid economy-at a time
of impoverishment consequent on continued war-at a
time when, but for law-produced illusions, there would
have been commercial straitness and a corresponding carefuilness. Just when its indebtedness was unusually great,
the community was induced still further to increase its
indebtedness. Clearly, then, the progressive accumulation and depreciation of promises-to-pay, and the commercial disasters which finally resulted from it in 1814-'15-'16,
when ninety provincial banks were broken and more dissolved, were State-produced evils: partly due to a war
which, whether necessary or not, was carried on by the
Government, and greatly exacerbated by the currency
regulations which that Government had made.
Before passing to more recent facts, let us parenthetic
cally notice the similarly-caused degradation of the cur.
rency which had previously arisen in Ireland. When
examined by a parliamentary committee in 1804, MIr. Colville, one of the directors of the Bank of Ireland, stated




CASE OF THE BANK OF IRELAND.           331
that before the passing of the Irish Bank-Restriction-Bill
-the bill by which cash-payments were suspended-the
directors habitually met any unusual demand for gold, by
diminishing their issues. That is to say, in the ordinary
course of business, they raised their rate of discount
whenever the demand enabled them, and so, both increased
their profits and warded off the danger of bankruptcy.
During this unregulated period, their note-circulation was
between ~600,000 and ~700,000. But as soon as they
were guaranteed by law against the danger of bankrupts
cy, their circulation began rapidly to increase, and very
soon reached ~3,000,000. The results, as proved before
the committee, were these: The exchange with England
became greatly depressed; nearly all the good specie was
exported to England; it was replaced in Dublin (where
small notes could not be issued) by a base coinage, adulterated to the extent of fifty per cent., and elsewhere it
was replaced by notes payable at twenty-one days' date,
issued by all sorts of persons, for sums down even as low
as sixpence.
And this excessive multiplication of small notes was
necessitated by the impossibility of otherwise carrying on
retail trade, after the disappearance of the silver coinage.
For these disastrous effects, then, legislation was respcnsible. The swarms of " silver-notes" resulted from the exportation of silver; the exportation of silver was due to
the great depression of the exchange with England; this
great depression arose from the excessive issue of notes
by the Bank of Ireland, and this excessive issue followed
from their legalized inconvertibility. Yet, though these
facts were long ago established by a committee of the
House of Commons, the defenders of the " currency-princi.
ple" are actually blind enough to cite this multiplication
of sixpenny-promises-to-pay, as proving the evils of an
unregulated currency!




332   STATE-TAMPERINGS WITH MONEY AND BANKS.
Returning now to the case of the Bank of England,
let us pass at once to the Act of 1844. While still a protectionist-while still a believer in the beneficence of law
as a controller of commerce-Sir Robert Peel undertook
to stop the recurrence of monetary crises, like those of
1825, 1836, and 1839. Overlooking the truth that, when
not caused by the meddlings of legislators, a monetary
crisis is due, either to an absolute impoverishment, or to a
relative impoverishment consequent on speculative overinvestment; and that for the bad season or the imprudence causing this, there is no remedy; he boldly proclaimed that "it is better to prevent the paroxysm than to
excite it;" and he brought forward the Bank-Act of 1844,
as the means of prevention. How merciless has been
Nature's criticism  on this remnant of Protectionism, we
all know. The monetary sliding-scale has been as great a
failure as its prototype. Within three years arose one of
these crises which were to have been prevented. Within
another ten years has arisen a second of these crises.
And on both occasions this intended safeguard has so intensified the evil, that a temporary repeal of it has been
imperative.
We should have thought that, even without facts,
every one might have seen that it is impossible, by Act of
Parliament, to prevent imprudent people from doing imprudent things; and, if facts were needed, we should
have thought that our commercial history up to 1844 supplied a sufficiency. But a superstitious faith in State-ordinances is regardless of such facts. And we doubt not
that even now, though there have been two glaring failures of this professed check on over-speculation-though
the evidence conclusively shows that the late commercial
catastrophes have had nothing whatever to do with the
issue of bank-notes, but, as in the case of the Western
Bank of Scotland, occurred along with diminished issues



CRISIS IN H AMURGH.               333
and though in Hamburgh, where the "currency-principle" has been rigidly carried out to the very letter, there
has been a worse crisis than anywhere else; yet there will
remain plenty of believers in the efficiency of Sir R. Peel's
prophylactic.
But, as already said, the measure has not only failed:
it has made worse the panics it was to have warded off.
And it was sure to do this. As shown at the outset, the
multiplication of promises-to-pay that occurs at a period
of impoverishment caused by war, famine, over-investment, or losses abroad, is a salutary process of mitigation
-is a mode of postponing actual payments till actual payments are possible-is a preventive of wholesale bankruptcy-is a spontaneous act of self-preservation.  We
pointed out, not only that this is an d priori conclusion,
but that many facts in our own mercantile history illustrate at once the naturalness, the benefits, the necessity of
it. And if this conclusion needs enforcing by further evidence, we have it in the recent events at Hamburgh. In
that city, there are no notes in circulation but such as are
represented by actual equivalents of bullion or jewels in
the bank: no one is allowed, as with us, to obtain bank
promises-to-pay in return for securities. Hence it resulted
that when the Hamburgh merchants, lacking their remittances from abroad, were suddenly deprived of the wherewith to meet their engagements, and were prevented by
law from getting bank-promises-to-pay by pawning their
estates; bankruptcy swept them  away wholesale. And
what finally happened?  To prevent universal ruin, the
Government was obliged to decree that all bills of exchange coming due, should have a month's grace; and
that there should be immediately formed a State-Discount
Bank-an office for issuing State-promises-to-pay in retu n
for securities. That is, having first by its restrictive law
ruined a host of merchants, the Government was obliged




334   STATE-TAMPERINGS WITH MONEY AND BANKS.
to legalize that postponement of payments, which, but for
its law, would have spontaneously taken place.
With such further confirmation of an d priori conclusion, can it be doubted that our late commercial difficulties were intensified by the measure of 1844? Is it not,
indeed, notorious in the City, that the progressively-increasing demand for accommodation, was in great part
due to the conviction that, in consequence of the BankAct, there would shortly be no accommodation at all?
Does not every London merchant know that his neighbours who had bills coming due, and who saw that by the
time they were due the Bank would discount only at still
higher rates, or not at all, decided to lay in beforehand
the means of meeting those bills? Is it not an established
fact, that the hoarding thus induced, not only rendered
the pressure on the Bank greater than it would otherwise
have been, but, by taking both gold and notes out of circulation, made the Bank's issues temporarily useless to the
general public? Did it not happen in this case, as in 1793
and 1825, that when at last restriction was removed, the
mere consciousness that loans could be had, itself prevented
them from being required? And, indeed, is not the simple fact that the panic quickly subsided when the Act was
suspended, sufficient proof that the Act had, in great
measure, produced it.
See, then, for what we have to thank legislative meddling. During ordinary times Sir R. Peel's Act, by obliging the Bank of England, and occasionally provincial
banks, to keep more gold than they would otherwise have
kept (and if it has not done this it has done nothing), has
inflicted a tax on the nation to the extent of the interest
on such portion of the gold-currency as was in excess of
the need: a tax which, in the course of the last thirteen
years, has probably amounted to some millions. And
then, on the two occasions when there have arisen the




DRAINAGE OF GOLD.                 335
Zrises that were to have been prevented, the Act, after
having intensified the pressure, made bankrupt a great
number of respectable firms that would else have stood,
and increased the distress not only of the trading but of
the working population; has been twice abandoned at the
moment when its beneficence was to have been conspicuous. It has been a cost, a mischief, and a failure. Yet
such is the prevailing delusion, that, judging from appearances, it will be maintained!
"But," ask our opponents, " shall the Bank be allowed
to let gold drain out of the country without check?  Shall
it have permission to let its reserve of gold diminish so
greatly as to risk the convertibility of its notes? Shall it
be enabled recklessly to increase its issues, and so produce
a depreciated paper-currency?"
Really, in these Free-trade days, it seems strange to
have to answer questions like these; and, were it not for
the confusion of facts and ideas that legislation has produced, it would be inexcusable to ask them.
In the first place, the common notion that the draining
cf gold out of the country is intrinsically, and in all cases,
an evil, is nothing but a political superstition-a superstition in part descended from the antique fallacy that money
is the only wealth, and in part from the maxims of an artificial, law-produced state of things, under which the exportation of gold really was a sign of a corrupted currency: we mean, during the suspension of cash-payments.
Law having cancelled millions of contracts which it was
its duty to enforce-law having absolved bankers from
liquidating their promises in coin, having rendered it need.
less to keep a stock of coin with which to liquidate them,
and having thus taken away that natural check which
prevents the over-issue and depreciation of notes-law
having partly suspended that home demand for gold which
ordinarily competes with and balances the foreign de15




336   STATE-TAMPERINGS WITH MONEY AND BANKS.
mand, there resulted an abnormal exportation of gold.
By-and-by, it was seen that this efflux of gold was a consequence of the over-issue of notes; and that the accompanying high price of gold, as paid for in notes, proved
the depreciation of notes. And then it became an established doctrine, that an adverse state of the foreign exchanges, indicating a drain of gold, was significant of an
excessive circulation of notes; and that the issue of notes
should be regulated by the state of the exchanges.
This unnatural condition of the currency having continued for a quarter of a century, the concomitant doctrine rooted itself in the general mind. And now mark
one of the multitudinous evils of legislative meddling.
This artificial test, good only for an artificial state, has
survived the return to a natural state, and men's ideas
about currency have been reduced by it to chronic confu
sion.
The truth is, that while, during a legalized inconvertibility of bank-notes, an efflux of gold may, and often does,
indicate an excessive issue of bank-notes; under ordinary
circumstances, an efflux of gold has little or nothing to do
with the issue of bank-notes, but is determined by purely
mercantile causes. And the truth is, that so far from an
efflux of gold thus brought about by mercantile causes,
being an evil, it is a good. Leaving out of the question,
as of course we must, such exportations of gold as take
place for the support of armies abroad, the cause of efflux
is either an actual plethora of all commodities, gold included, which results in gold being sent out of the country for the purpose of foreign investment, or else an abundance of gold as compared with other leading commodities. And while, in this last case, the efflux of gold indicates some absolute or relative impoverishment of the nation, it is a means of mitigating the bad consequences of
that impoverishment.




GOLD AS A COMMODrIT.              337
Consider the question as one of political economy, and
this truth becomes obvious. Thus: The nation habitually
requires for use and consumption certain quantities of
commodities, of which gold is one. These commodities
are severally and collectively liable to fall short, either
from deficient harvests, from waste in war, from losses
abroad, or from too great a diversion of labour or capital
in some special direction. When a scarcity of some chief
commodity or necessary occurs, what is the remedy? The
commodity of which there is an excess (or if none is in
excess, then that which can best be spared) is exported in
exchange for an additional supply of the deficient commodity. And, indeed, the whole of our foreign trade,
alike in ordinary and extraordinary times, consists in this
process. But when it happens either that the commodity
which we can best spare is not wanted abroad, or (as recently) that a chief foreign customer is temporarily disabled from buying, or that the commodity which we can
best spare is gold, then gold itself is exported in exchange
for the thing which we most want. Whatever form the
transaction takes, it is nothing but bringing the supplies
of various commodities into harmony with the demands
for them. The fact that gold is exported, is simply a
proof that the need for gold is less than the need for other
things. Under such circumstances an efflux of gold will
continue, and ought to continue, until other things have
become relatively so abundant, and gold relatively so
scarce, that the demand for gold is equal to other demands.
And he who would prevent this process, is about as wise
as the miser, who, finding his house without food, chooses
Jo starve rather than draw upon his purse.
The second question-" Shall the Bank have permissmon
to let its reserve of gold diminish so greatly as to risk the
convertibility of its notes?" is not more profound than
the first. It may fitly be answered by the more general




338   STATE-TAMIPERIIGS WITI  MONEY AND BANKS.
question-" Shall the merchant, the manufacturer, or the
shopkeeper, be allowed so to invest his capital as to risk
the fulfilment of his engagements?"  If the answer to the
first be " No," it must be " No" to the second.  If to the
second it be " Yes," it must be " Yes" to the first.  Any
one who proposed that the State should oversee the transactions of every trader, so as to insure his ability to cash
all demands as they fell due, might with consistency argue
that bankers should be under like control. But while no
one has the folly to contend for the one, nearly all contend
for the other. One would think that the banker acquired,
in virtue of his occupation, some abnormal desire to ruin
himself-that while traders in other things are restrained
by a wholesome dread of bankruptcy, traders in capital
have a longing to appear in the Gazette, which law alone
can prevent them  from  gratifying!  Surely the moral
checks which act on other men will act on bankers. And
if these moral checks do not suffice to produce perfect security, we have ample proof that no cunning legislative
checks will supply their place. The current notion that
bankers can, and will, if allowed, issue notes to any extent,
is one of the absurdest illusions-an illusion, however,
which would never have arisen but for the vicious overissues induced by law.
The truth is, that in the first place, a banker cannot
increase his issue of notes at will: it has been proved by
the unanimous testimony of all bankers who have been
examined before successive parliamentary committees, that
"the amount of their issues is exclusively regulated by
the extent of local dealings and expenditure in their respective districts;" and that any notes issued in excess of
the demand are "immediately returned to them."  And
the truth is, in the second place, that a banker will not, on
the average of cases, issue more notes than in his judgment i iis safe to issue; seeing that if his promises-to-pay
~LL~~r~UV ~V rU LCY-V  UV -YNI-V ~~~~ C~Y1 —I



THE BUGBEAR OF DEPRECIATION.          339
in circulation, are greatly irt ex cess of his available means
of paying them, he runs an imminent risk of having to
stop payment-a result, of which he has no less a horror
than other men. If facts are needed in proof of this, they
are furnished by the history of both the Bank of England
and the Bank of Ireland; which, before they were debauched by the State, habitually regulated their issues
according to their stock of bullion, and would probably
always have been still more careful, but for the consciousness that there was the State-credit to fall back upon.
The third question-" Shall the Bank be allowed to
issue notes in such numbers as to cause their depreciation?" has, in effect, been answered in answering the first
two. There can be no depreciation of notes so long as
they are exchangeable for gold on demand. And so long
as the State, in discharge of its duty, insists on the fulfilment of contracts, the alternative of bankruptcy must
ever be a restraint on such over-issue of notes as endangers
that exchangeability. The truth is, that the bugbear of
depreciation is one that would have been unknown but for
the sins of governments. In the case of America, where
there have been occasional depreciations, the sin has been
a sin of omission: the State has not enforced the fulfilment of contracts-has not forthwith bankrupted those
who failed to cash their notes; and, if accounts are true,
has allowed those to be mobbed who brought back farwandering notes for payment.* In all other cases, the sin
has been a sin of commission. The depreciated papercurrency in France, during the revolution, was a Statecurrency.  The depreciated paper-currencies of Austria
and Russia, have been State-currencies. And the only
depreciated paper-currency we have known, has been to
all intents and purposes a State-currency. It was the
* This was written in 1858; when " greenbacks " were unknown.




340   STATE-TAMPERINGS WrrH MONEY AND BANKS.
State which, in 1795-'6, force  upon th; Bank of England
that excessive issue of notes which led to the suspension
of cash-payments. It was the State which, in 1802, forbad the resumption of cash-payments, when the Bank of
England wished to resume them. It was the State which,
during a quarter of a century, maintained that suspension
of cash-payments from which the excessive multiplication'and depreciation of notes resulted. The entire corruption
was entailed by State-expenditure, and established by
State-warrant. Yet now, the State affects a virtuous horror of the crime committed at its instigation! Having
contrived to shuffle-off the odium on to the shoulders of
its tools, the State gravely lectures the banking-community upon its guilt; and with sternest face passes measures to prevent it from sinning!
We contend, then, that neither to restrain the efflux
of gold, nor to guard against the over-issue of bank-notes,
is legislative interference warranted. If Government will
promptly execute the law against all defaulters, the selfinterest of bankers and traders will do the rest: such
evils as would still result from mercantile dishonesties and
imprudences, being evils which legal regulation may augment but cannot prevent. Let the Bank of England, in
common with every other bank, simply consult its own
safety and its own profits, and there will result just as
much check as should be put, on the efflux of gold or the
circulation of paper; and the only check that can be put
on the doings of speculators. Whatever leads to unusual
draughts on the resources of banks, immediately causes a
rise in the rate of discount-a rise dictated both by the
wish to make increased profits, and the wish to avoid a
dangerous decrease of resources. This raised rate of dis.
count prevents the demand from being so great as it would
else have been-alike checks undue expansion of the note.
circulation; stops speculators from making further engage




SALUTARY EFFECTS OF A CRISIS.          341
ments, and, if gold is being exported, diminishes the profit
of exportation.  Successive rises successively increase
these effects, until eventually none will give the rate of
discount demanded, save those in peril of stopping payment; the increase of the credit-currency ceases, and the
efflux of gold, if it is going on, is arrested by the homedemand outbalancing the foreign demand.  And if in
times of great pressure, and under the temptation of high
discounts, banks allow their circulation to expand to a
somewhat dangerous extent, the course is justified by the
necessities. As shown at the outset, the process is one
by which banks, on the deposit of good securities, loan
their credit to traders who but for loans would be bankrupt. And that banks should run some risks to save hosts
of solvent men from  inevitable ruin, few  will deny.
Moreover, during a crisis which thus runs its natural
course, there will really occur that purification of the
mercantile world, which many think can be effected only
by some Act-of-Parliament ordeal.  Under the circumstances described, men who have adequate securities to
offer, will get bank-accommodation; but those who, having traded without capital or beyond their means, have
not, will be denied it, and will fail. Under a free system,
the good will be sifted from the bad; whereas.the existing restrictions on bank-accommodations, tend to destroy
good and bad together.
Thus it is not true that there need be special regulations
to prevent the inconvertibility and depreciation of notes.
It is not true that but for legislative supervision, bankers
would let gold drain out of the country to an undue extent. It is not true that these "currency theorists" havo
discovered a place at which the body-politic would bleed
lo doath, but for a State-styptic.
What else we have to say on the general question, may




342   STATE-TAMPEsINGS WMT MiONEY AND BANES.
best be joined with some commentaries on provincial and
joint-stock banking, to which let us now turn.
Government, to preserve the Bank-of-England-mlonop
oly, having enacted that no partnership exceeding six persons should become bankers, and the Bank of England
having refused to establish branches in the provinces, it
happened, during the latter half of the last century, when
the industrial progress was rapid and banks much needed,
that numerous private traders, shopkeepers, and others,
began to issue notes payable on demand. And when, of
the four hundred small banks which had thus grown up in
less than fifty years, a great number gave way under the
first pressure-when on several subsequent occasions like
results occurred-when in Ireland, where the Bank-of-Ireland-monopoly had been similarly guaranteed, it happened
that out of fifty private provincial banks, forty became
bankrupt-and when, finally, it grew notorious that in
Scotland, where there had been no law limiting the number of partners, a whole century had passed with scarcely
a single bank-failure, legislators at length decided to abolish the restriction which had entailed such mischiefs.
Having, to use Mr. Mill's words, "actually made the
formation of safe banking-establishments a punishable offencee" — aving, for one hundred and twenty years, maintained a law which first caused great inconvenience and
then extensive ruin, time after time repeated; Government in 1826 conceded the liberty of joint-stock banking:
a liberty which tle good easy public, not distinguishing
between a right done and a wrong undone regarded as a
great boon.
But the liberty was not without conditions.  ITaving
previously, in anxiety for its protege, the Bank of England, been reckless of the banking-security of the community at large, the State, like a repentant sinner rushing
into asceticism, all at once became extremely solicitous on




EFFECTS OF LEGISLATIVE INTERFERENCE.    343
this point, and determined to put guarantees of its own
devising, in place of the natural guarantee of mercantile
judgment. To intending bank-shareholders it said-" You
shall not unite on such publicly-understood conditions as
you think fit, and get such confidence as will naturally come
to you on those conditions."  And to the public it said"You should not put trust in this or that association in
proportion as, from the character of its members and constitution, you judge it to be worthy of trust." But to
both it said-" You shall the one give, and the other receive, my infallible safeguards."
And now what have been the results?  Every one
knows that these safeguards have proved any thing but
infallible. Every one knows that these banks with Stateconstitutions have been especially characterized by instability. Every one knows that credulous citizens, with a
faith in legislation which endless disappointments fail to
diminish, have trusted implicitly in these law-devised securities, and, not exercising their own judgments, have
been led into ruinous undertakings. The evils of substituting artificial guarantees for natural ones, which the
clear-sighted long ago discerned, have, by the late catastrophes, been made conspicuous to all.
When commencing this article, we had intended to
dwell on this point. For though the mode of business
which brought about these joint-stock-bank-failures, was,
for weeks after their occurrence, time after time clearly described, yet nowhere did we see drawn the obvious corollary.  Though in three separate City-articles of The
Times, it was explained that, "relying upon the ultimate
liability of large bodies of infatuated shareholders, the
discount houses supply these banks with unlimited means,
looking not to the character of the bills sent up, but simply to the security afforded by the Bank endorsement; "
yet in none of them was it pointed out that, but for the




344   STATE-TAMPERINGS WITH MONEY AND BANKS.
law of unlimited liability, this reckless trading would not
have gone on. More recently, however, this truth has
been duly recognized, alike in Parliament and in the
Press, and it is therefore needless further to elucidate it.
We will simply add, that as, if there had been no law of
unlimited liability, the London houses would not have discounted these bad bills; and as, in that case, these provincial joint-stock-banks could not have given these enormous credits to insolvent speculators; and as, if they had
not done this, they would not have been ruined; it follows, inevitably, that these joint-stock-bank-failures have
been law-produced disasters.
A measure for further increasing the safety (o the provincial public, was that which limited the circulation of
provincial bank-notes. At the same time that it established a sliding-scale for the issues of the Bank of England, the Act of 1844 fixed the maximum circulation of
every provincial bank-of-issue, and forbad any further
banks-of-issue. We have not space to discuss at length
the effects of this restriction: which must have fallen
rather hardly on those especially-careful bankers who had,
during the twelve weeks preceding the 27th April, 1844,
narrowed their issues to meet any incidental contingencies; while it gave a perennial license to such as had
been incautious during that period. All which we can
notice is, that this rigorous limitation of provincial issues
to a low maximum (and a low maximum was purposely
fixed) effectually prevents those local expansions of banknote circulation, which, as we have shown, ought to take
place in periods of commercial difficulty. And further,
that by transferring all local demands to the Bank of England, as the only place from which extra accommodation
can be had, the tendency is to concentrate a pressure
which would else be diffused; and so to create panic.
Saying nothing more, however, respecting the impolicy




TEMPTATIONS OF BANXI:RS.            345
of the measure, let us mark its futility. As a means of
preserving the convertibility of the provincial bank-note,
it is useless unless it acts as some safeguard against bankfailures, and that it does not do this is demonstrable.
While it diminishes the likelihood of failures caused by
over-issue of notes, it increases the likelihood of failures
from other causes. For what will be done by a provincial
banker whose issues are restricted by the Act of 1844, to
a level lower than that to which he would otherwise have
let them rise? If he would, but for the law, have issued
more notes than he now does-if his reserve is greater
than, in his judgment, is needful for the security of his
notes, is it not clear that he will simply extend his operations in other directions? Will not the excess of his
available capital be to him a warrant either for entering
into larger speculations himself, or for allowing his customers to draw on him beyond the limit he would else
have fixed? If, in the absence of restriction, his rashness
would have led him to risk bankruptcy by over-issue, will
Lt not now equally lead him to risk bankruptcy by overbanking? And is not the one kind of bankruptcy as fatal
to the convertibility of notes as the other?
Nay, the case is even worse. There is reason to believe that bankers are tempted into greater dangers under
this protective system. They can and will hypothecate
their capital in ways less direct than by notes, and may
very likely be led, by the unobtrusiveness of the process,
to commit themselves more than they would else do. A
trader, applying to his banker in times of commercial difficulty, will often be met by the reply-" I cannot make
you any direct advances, having already loaned as much
as I can spare, but knowing you to be a safe man, I will
lend you my name. Here is my acceptance for the sum
you require: they will discount it for you in London."
Now, as loans thus made do not entail the same immo




346   STATE-TAMIPE-LNGS WITH MONEY AN D BA'S
diate responsibilities as when made in notes (seeing that
they are neither at once payable, nor do they add to the
dangers of a possible run), a banker is under a temptation
to extend his liabilities in this way much further than he
would have done had not law forced him to discover a
new channel through which to give credit.
And does not the evidence that has lately transpired
go to show that these roundabout ways of giving credit
do take the place of the interdicted ways; and that they
are more dangerous than the interdicted ways? Is it not
notorious that dangerous forms of paper-currency have
had an unexampled development since the Act of 1844?
Do not the newspapers and the debates. give daily proofs
of this? And is not the process of causation obvious?
Indeed, it might have been known, d priori, that such
a result was sure to take place. It has been shown conclusively that, when uninterfered with, the amount of
note-circulation at any given time is determined by the
amount of trade going on-the quantity of payments that
are being made. It has been repeatedly testified before
committee, that when any local banker contracts his is.
sues, he simply causes an equivalent increase in the issues
of neighbouring bankers. And in past times it has been
more than once complained, that when from  prudential
motives the Bank of England withdrew part of its notes,
the provincial bankers immediately multiplied their notes
to a proportionate extent. WVell, is it not manifest that
this inverse variation, which holds between one class of
bank-notes and another, also holds between bank-notes
and other forms of paper-currency? Will it not happen
that just as diminishing the note-circulation of one bank,
merely adds to the note-circulation of other banks; so, an
artificial restriction on the circulation of bank-notes in
general, will simply cause an increased circulation of somr,
substituted kind of promise-to-pay? And is not this sa>.




NATURAL SAFEGUARDS PREVENTED.            347
Etituted kind, in virtue of its novelty and irregularity,
likely to be a more unsafe kind?  See, then, the predicament.  Over all the bills of exchange, cheques, etc., which
constitute nine-tenths of the paper-currency of the kingdom, the State exercises, and can exercise, no control.
And the limit it puts on the remaining tenth, vitiates the
other nine-tenths, by causing an abnormal growth of new
forms of credit, which experience proves to be especially
dangerous.
Thus, all which the State does when it exceeds its true
duty, is to hinder, to disturb, to corrupt. As already
pointed out, the quantity of credit men will give each
other, is determined by natural causes, moral and physical-their average characters, their temporary states of
feeling, their circumstances.  If the Government forbids
one mode of giving credit, they will find another, and
probably a worse. Be the degree of mutual trust prudent
or imprudent, it must take its course. The attempt to
restrict it by law is nothing but a repetition of the old
story of keeping out the sea with a fork.
And now mark, that were it not for these worse than
futile State-safeguards, there might grow up certain natural safeguards, which would really put a check on undue
credit and abnormal speculation. Were it not for the attempts to insure security by law, it is very possible that,
under our high-pressure system of business, banks would
compete with each other in respect of the degree of security they offered-would endeavour to outdo each other
in the obtainment of a legitimate public confidence. Consider the position of a new joint-stock-bank with limited
liability, and unchecked by legal regulations. It can do
nothing until it has gained the general good opinion. In
the way of this there stand great difficulties. Its constitution is untried, and is sure to be looked upon by the
trading world with considerable distrust. The field is al



348  STATE-TAMPERINGS WITH MONEY AND BANKS.
ready occupied by old banks with established connections
Out of a constituency satisfied with the present accom
modation, it has to obtain supporters for a system that is
apparently less safe than the old. How shall it do this?
Evidently it must find some unusual mode of assuring the
community of its trustworthiness. And out of a number
of new banks so circumstanced, it is not too much to suppose that ultimately one would hit on some mode. It
might be, for instance, that such a bank would give to
all who held deposits over ~1,000 the liberty of inspecting its books-of ascertaining from time to time its liabilities and its investments.  Already this plan is frequently adopted by private traders, as a means of assuring
those who lend money to them; and this extension of it
might naturally take place under the pressure of competition. We have put the question to a gentleman who
has had long and successful experience as a manager of a
joint-stock-bank, and his reply is, that some such course
would very probably be adopted: adding that, under this
arrangement, a depositor would practically become a partner with limited liability.
Were a system of this kind to establish itself, it would
form a double check to unhealthy trading. Consciousness
that its rashness would become known to its chief clients,
would prevent the bank-management from being rash; and
consciousness that his credit would be damaged when his
large debt to the bank was whispered, would prevent the
speculator from contracting so large a debt. Both lender
and borrower would be restrained from reckless enterprise. Very little inspection would suffice to effect this
end. One or two cautious depositors would be enough;
seeing that the mere expectation of immediate disclosure,
in case of misconduct, would mostly keep in order all
those concerned.
Should it however be contended, as by some it may




THE CHARGE OF EMPIRICISM.           349
that this safeguard would be of no avail-should it be al
leged that, having in their own hands the means of safety,
citizens would not use them, but would still put blind
faith in directors, and give unlimited trust to respectable
names; then we reply that they would deserve whatever
bad consequences fell on them. If they did not take advantage of the proffered guarantee, the penalty be on
their own heads. We have no patience with the mawkish
philanthropy which would ward off the punishment of
stupidity. The ultimate result of shielding men from the
effects of folly, is to fill the world with fools.
A few words in conclusion respecting the attitude of
our opponents. Leaving joint-stock-bank legislation, on
which the eyes of the public are happily becoming opened,
and returning to the Bank-Charter, with its theory of
currency-regulation, we have to charge its supporters with
gross, if not wilful, misrepresentation. Their established
policy is to speak of all antagonism as identified with adhesion to the vulgarest fallacies. They daily present, as
the only alternatives, their own dogma or some wild doctrine too absurd to be argued. "Side with us or choose
anarchy," is the substance of their homilies.
To speak specifically: —They boldly assert, in the first
place, that they are the upholders of "principle; " and on
all opposition they seek to fasten the title of " empiricism."
Now, we are at a loss to see what there is " empirical" in
the position, that a bank-note-circulation will regulate itself in the same way that the circulation of other papercurrency does. It seems to us any thing but " empirical,"
to say that the natural check of prospective bankruptcy,
which restrains the trader from issuing too many promisesto-pay at given dates, will similarly restrain the banker
from issuing too many promises-to-pay on demand. We
take him to be the opposite of an " empiric," who holds




350   STATE-TAMPERINGS WITH MONEY AND BANKS.
that people's characters and circumstances determine the
quantity of credit-memoranda in circulation; and that the
monetary disorders which their imperfect characters and
changing circumstances occasionally entail, can be exacerbated, but cannot be prevented by State-nostrums.
On the other hand, we do not see in virtue of what
"principle" it is, that the contract expressed on the face
of a bank-note must be dealt with differently from any
other contract.  We cannot understand the "principle"
which requires the State to control the business of bankers, so that they may not make engagements they cannot
fulfil, but which does not require the State to do the like
with other traders. To us it is a very incomprehensible
" principle" which permits the Bank of England to issue
~14,000,000 on the credit of the State, but which is broken
if the State-credit is mortgaged beyond this-a "principle" which implies that ~14,000,000 of notes may be issued without gold to meet them, but insists on rigorous
precautions for the convertibility of every pound more.
We are curious to learn how it was inferred from  this
"principle" that the average note-circulation of each provincial bank, during certain twelve weeks in 1844, was
exactly the note-circulation which its capital justified. So
far from discerning a "principle," it seems to us that both
the idea and its applications are as empirical as they can
well be.
Still more astounding, however, is the assumption of
these " currency-theorists," that their doctrines are those
of Free-trade.  In the Legislature, Lord Overstone, and
in the press, the Saturday Review, have, among others,
asserted this. To call that a Free-trade measure, which
has the avowed object of restricting certain voluntary
acts of exchange, appears so manifest a contradiction in
terms, that it is scarcely credible it should be made. The
whole system of currency-legislation is restrictionist from




THE CLAIMS OF " FREE-TRADE.'            351
heginh.lg to end: equally in spirit and detail. Is that a
Free-trade regulation which has all along forbidden banks
of issue within sixty-five miles of London? Is that Freetrade which enacts that none but such as have now tle
State-warrant, shall henceforth give promises-to-pay on
demand? Is that Free-trade which at a certain point
steps in between the banker and his customer, and puts a
veto on any further exchange of credit-documents?  We
wonder what would be said by two merchants, the one
about to draw a bill on the other in return for goods sold,
who should be stopped by a State-officer with the remark
that, having examined the buyer's ledger, he was of opinion that ready as the seller might be to take the bill, it
would be unsafe for him to do so; and that the law, in
pursuance of the principles of Free-trade, negatived the
transaction! Yet for the promise-to-pay in six months, it
needs but to substitute a promise-to-pay on demand, and
the case becomes substantially that of banker and customer.
It is true that the " currency-theorists" have a colourable excuse in the fact, that among their opponents are
the advocates of various visionary schemes, and propounders of regulations quite as protectionist in spirit as
their own. It is true that there are some who contend for
inconvertible " labour-notes; " and others who argue that
in times of commercial pressure, banks should not raise
their rates of discount. But is this any justification for
recklessly stigmatizing all antagonism  as coming from
these classes, in the face of the fact that the Bank-Act has
been protested against by the highest authorities in political economy?  Do not the defenders of the "currencyprinciple" know, that among their opponents are Mlr.
Thornton, long known as an able writer on currency-questions; Mr. Tooke and Mr. Newmarch, famed for their laborious and exhaustive researches respecting currency and




35 2  STATE-TAMJ'ERINGS WITH MONEY AND BANKS.
prices; Mr. Fullarton, whose " Regulation of Currencies"
is a standard work; Mr. Macleod, whose just-issued book
displays the endless injustices and stupidities of our monetary history; Mr. James Wilson, M. P., who, in detailed
knowledge of commerce, currency, and banking, is probably unrivalled; and Mr. John Stuart Mill, who both as
logician and economist, stands in the first rank? Do
they not know that the alleged distinction between banknotes and other credit-documents, which forms the professed basis of the, Bank-Act (and for which Sir R. Peel
could quote only the one poor authority of Lord Liverpool) is denied, not only by the gentlemen above named,
but also by Mr. Huskisson, Professor Storch, Dr. Travers
Twiss, and the distinguished French Professors, Al. Joseph
Garnier, and 1A. Michel Chevalier? *  Do they not know,
in short, that both the profoundest thinkers and the most
patient inquirers are against them? If they do not know
this, it is time they studied the subject on which they
write with such an air of authority. If they do know it,
a little more respect for their opponents would not be
unbecoming.
* See Mr. Tooke's "Bank Charter Act of 1844," etc.




X.
PARLIAMENTARY REFORM: THE DAN
GERS, AND THE SAFEGUARDS.
T HIRTY years ago, the dread of impending evils agitated not a few breasts throughout England. Instinctive fear of change, justified as it seemed by outbursts of popular violence, conjured up visions of the anarchy which would follow the passing of a Reform Bill.
In scattered farmhouses there was chronic terror, lest those
newly endowed with political power should in some way
filch all the profits obtained by rearing cattle and growilg corn. The occupants of halls and manors spoke of
ten-pound householders almost as though they formed an
army of spoilers, threatening to overrun and devastate
the property of landholders. Among townspeople there
were some who interpreted the abolition of old corruptions into the establishment of mob-government, which
they held to be equivalent with spoliation. And even in
Parliament, such alarms found occasional utterance: as,
for instance, through the mouth of Sir Robert Inglis, who
ninted that the national debt would not improbably be
repudiated if the proposed measure became law.
There may perhaps be a few who regard the now
pending change in the representation with similar dread



354  PARLIAMENTARY REFORM: THE DANGERS, ETC.
who think that artisans and others of their grade are pre
pared, when the power is given to them, to lay hands on
property.  We presume, however, that such irrational
alarmists form but a small percentage of the nation. Not
only throughout the Liberal party, but among the C-nservatives, there exists a much fairer estimate of the popular character than is implied by anticipations of so
gloomy a kind. Many of the upper and middle classes
are conscious of the fact, that if critically compared, the
average conduct of the wealthy would not be found to
differ very widely in rectitude from  that of the poor.
Making due allowance for differences in the kinds and
degrees of temptation to which they are exposed, the
respective grades of society are tolerably uniform in
their morals. That disregard of the rights of property
which, among the people at large, shows itself in the
direct form of petty thefts, shows itself among their richer
neighbours in various indirect forms, which are scarcely
less flagitious and often much more detrimental to fellow
citizens. Traders, wholesale and retail, commit countless dishonesties, ranging from adulteration and short
measure, up to fraudulent bankruptcy-dishonesties of
which we sketched out some of the ramifications in a
late article on "The Morals of Trade."  The trickeries of
the turf; the bribery of electors; the non-payment of
tradesmen's bills;.the jobbing in railway-shares; the obtainment of exorbitant prices for land from railway-companies; the corruption that attends the getting of private
bills through Parliament-these and other such illustrations, show that the unconscientiousness of the upper
class, manifested though it is in different forms, is not less
than that of the lower class: bears as great a ratio to the
size of the class, and, if traced to its ultimate results, produces evils as great, if not greater.
And if the facts prove that in uprightness of inten




THE DANGER TO BE APPREHENDED.           355
lion, there is little to choose between one class of the
community and another, an extension of the franchise
cannot rationally be opposed on the ground that property
would be directly endangered. There is no more reason
to suppose that the mass of artisans and labourers would
use political power with conscious injustice to their richer
neighbours, than there is reason to suppose that their
richer neighbours now consciously commit legal injustices
against artisans and labourers.
What, then, is the danger to be apprehended?  If
land, and houses, and railways, and funds, and property
of all other kinds, would be held with no less security
than now, why need there be any fears that the franchise
would be misused? What are the misuses of it which
are rationally to be anticipated?
The ways in which those to be endowed with political
power are likely to abuse it, may be inferred from the
ways in which political power has been abused by those
who have possessed it.
What general trait has characterized the rule of the
classes hitherto dominant? These classes have not habit.
ually sought their own direct advantage at the expense ot
other classes; but their measures have nevertheless frequently been such as were indirectly advantageous to
themselves. Voluntary self-sacrifice has been the exception. The rule has been, so to legislate as to preserve private interests from injury, whether public interests were
injured or not.  Though, in equity, a landlord has no
greater claim on a defaulting tenant than any other creditor, yet landlords, having formed the majority of the legislature, the law has given them power to recover rent in
anticipation of other creditors. Though the duties paya.
ble to government on the transfer of property to heirs and.egatees might justly have been made to fall more hema




356  PARLIAMENTARY REFORM: THE DANGERS, ETC.
vily on the wealthy than on the comparatively poor, and
on real property rather than on personal property, yet the
reverse arrangement was enacted and long maintained,
and is even still partially in force. Rights of presentation
to places in the Church, obtained however completely in
violation of the spirit of the law, are yet tenaciously defended, with little or no regard to the welfare of those for
whom  the Church ostensibly exists.  Were it not accounted for by the bias of personal interests, it would be
impossible to explain the fact, that on the question of protection. to agriculture, the landed classes and their dependents were ranged against the other classes: the same evidence being open to both. And if there needs a still
stronger illustration, we have it in the opposition made to
the repeal of the Corn-Laws by the established clergy.
Though by their office, preachers of justice and mercythough constantly occupied in condemning selfishness and
holding up a supreme example of self-sacrifice; yet so
swayed were they by those temporal interests which they
thought endangered, that they offered to this proposed
change an almost uniform resistance. Out of some ten
thousand ex officio friends of the poor and needy, there
was but one (the Rev. Thomas Spencer) who took an active part in abolishing this tax imposed on the people's
bread for the maintenance of landlords' rents.
Such are a few of the ways in which, in modern times,
those who have the power seek their own benefit at the
expense of the rest. It is in analogous ways that we must
expect any section of the community which may be made
predominant by a political change, to sacrifice the welfare
of other sections to its own. While we do not see reason
to think that the lower classes are intrinsically less conscientious than the upper classes, we do not see reason to
think that they are more conscientious. Holding, as we
do, that in each society, and in each age, the morality is




BIAS OF THE WORKING CLASSES.         357
on the average, the same throughout all ranks; it seems
to us clear that if the rich, when they have the opportunity, make laws which unduly favour themselves, it must
be concluded that the poor, if their power was in excess,
would do the like in similar ways and to a similar extent.
Without believing that they would knowingly enact injustice, we believe that they would be unconsciously
biased by personal considerations, and that our legislation
would err as much in a new direction as it has hitherto
done in the old.
This abstract conclusion we shall find confirmed on
contemplating the feelings and opinions current among
artisans and labourers. What the working classes now
wish done, indicates what they would be likely to do, if a
reform in the representation made them  preponderate.
Judging from  their prevailing sentiments, they would
doubtless do, or aid in doing, many things which it is desirable to have done. Such a question as that of Churchrates would have been settled long ago had the franchise
been wider.  Any great increase of popular influence,
would go far to rectify the present inequitable relation of
the established religious sect to the rest of the community.
And various other remnants of class-legislation would
soon be swept away. But besides ideas likely to eventuate in changes which we should regard as beneficial, the
working classes entertain ideas that could not be realized
without gross injustice to other classes and ultimate injury
to themselves. There is among them a prevailing enmity
towards capitalists. The fallacy that machinery acts to
their damage, is still widely spread, both among rural labourers and the inhabitants of towns. And they show a
wish, not only to dictate how long per day men shall
work, but to regulate all the relations between employers
and employed. Let us briefly consider the evidence of
this.




358  PARLIAMENTARY REFORM: THE DANGERS, ETC.
When, adding another to the countless errors which it
has taught the people, the Legislature, by passing the
Ten-Hours-Bill, asserted that it was the duty of the State
to limit the duration of labour, there naturally arose
among the working classes, the desire for further ameliorations to be secured in the same way. First came the formidable strike of the Amalgamated Engineers. The rules
of this body aim to restrict the supply of labour in various ways.  No member is allowed to work more than a
fixed number of hours per week; nor for less than a fixed
rate of wages. No man is admitted into the trade who
has not " earned a right by probationary servitude."
There is a strict registration, which is secured by fines on
any one who neglects to notify his marriage, removal, or
change of service. The council decides, without appeal,
on all the affairs, individual and general, of the body.
How tyrannical are the regulations may be judged from
the fact, that members are punished for divulging any
thing concerning the society's business; for censuring one
another; for vindicating the conduct of those fined, etc.
And their own unity of action being secured by these coercive measures, the Amalgamated Engineers made a prolonged effort to impose on their employers, sundry restrictions which they supposed would be beneficial to themselves.  More recently, we have seen similar objects
worked for by similar means during the strike of the Operative Builders. In one of their early manifestoes, this
body of men contended that they had " an equal right to
share with other workers, that large amount of public
sympathy which is now being so widely extended in the
direction of shortening the hours of labour:" thus showing at once their delusion and its source. Believing, as
they had been taught by an Act of Parliament to believe,
that the relation between the quantity of labour given
and the wages received, is not a natural but an artificial




CLAIMS OF OPERATIVE BUILDERS.          359
one, whey demanded that while the wages remained the
same. the hours should be reduced from  ten to nine.
They recommended their employers so to make their future contiacts, as to allow for this diminished day's work:
saying thcy were "so sanguine as to consider the consummation of their desire inevitable:" a polite way of
hinting that their employers must succumb to the irresistible power of their organization. Referring to the threat
of the mastel-builders to close their works, they warned
them against' the responsibility of causing the public
disaster" thus indicated. And when the breach finally
took place, the Unionists set in action the approved appliances for bringing masters to terms, and would have succeeded had it not been that their antagonists, believing
that concessions would be ruinous, made a united resistance. During several previous years, master-builders had
been yielding to various extravagant demands, of which
those recently made were a further development. Had
they assented to the diminished day's work, and abolished
systematic overtime, as they were required to do, there is
no reason to suppose the dictation would have ended here.
Success would have presently led to still more exacting
requirements, and future years would have witnessed further extensions of this mischievous meddling between capital and labour.
Perhaps the completest illustration of the industrial
regulations that find favour with artisans, is supplied by
the Printers' Union. With the exception of those engaged
in The Times office, and in one other large establishment,
the proprietors of which successfully resisted the combination, the compositors, pressmen, etc., throughout the
kingdom, form a society which controls all the relations
between employers and employed. There is a fixed price
for setting up the type —so much per thousand letters: no
master can give less no compositor being allowed by the
16




360  PARLIAMENTAEY REFORM: THE DAKGERS, ETC.
Union to work for less. There are established rates for
press-work, and established numbers less than which you
cannot have printed, without paying for work that is not
done. The scale rises by what are called "tokens" of
250; and if but 50 copies are required, the charge is the
same as for printing 250; or if 300 are wanted, payment
must be made for 500. Besides regulating prices and
modes of charging to their own advantage, in these and
other ways, the members of the Union restrict competition
by limiting the number of apprentices brought into the
business. So well organized is this combination that the
masters are obliged to succumb. An infraction of the
rules in any printing-office, leads to a strike of the men;
and this being supported by the Union at large, the employer has to yield.
That in other trades, artisans would, if they could, establish restrictive systems equally complete with this, we
take to be sufficiently proved by their often repeated attempts.  The Tin-plate-Workers' strike, the CoventryWeavers' strike, the Engineers' strike, the Shoemakers'
strike, the Builders' strike, all show a most decided leaning towards a despotic regulation of trade-prices, hours,
and arrangements-towards an abolition of free trade between employers and employed. Should the men engaged
in our various industries succeed in their aims, each industry would be so shackled as seriously to raise the cost of
production.  The chief penalty would thus fall on the
working classes themselves. Each producer, while protected in the exercise of his own occupation, would on
every commodity he bought have to pay an extra price,
consequent on the protection of other producers. In short,
there would be established, under a new form, the old mis.
chievous system  of mutual taxation. And a final result
would be such a diminished ability to compete with other
nations as to destroy our foreign trade.




DESPOTISM OF TRADES-UNIONS.           361
Against results like these it behoves us carefully to
guard. It becomes a grave question how far we may
safely give political power to those who entertain views
so erroneous respecting fundamental social relations, and
who so pertinaciously struggle to enforce these erroneous
views. Men who render up their private liberties to the
despotic rulers of trades-unions, seem scarcely independent enough rightly to exercise political liberties. Those
who so ill understand the nature of freedom, as to think
that any man or body of men has a right to prevent employer and employed from  making any contract they
please, would almost appear to be incapacitated for the
guardianship of their own freedom and that of their fellow-citizens. When their notions of rectitude are so confused, that they think it a duty to obey the arbitrary commands of their union-authorities, and to abandon the right
of individually disposing of their labour on their own
terms-when, in conformity with this inverted sense of
duty, they even risk the starvation of their familieswhen they call that an "odious document" which simply
demands that master and man shall be free to make their
own bargains-when their sense of justice is so obtuse
that they are ready to bully, to deprive of work, to starve,
and even to kill, members of their own class who rebel
against dictation, and assert their rights to sell their labour at such rates and to such persons as they think fitwhen in short they prove themselves ready to become
alike slaves and tyrants, we may well pause before giving
them the franchise.
The objects which artisans have long sought to achieve
by their private organizations, they would, had they adequate political power, seek to achieve by public enactmrents. If, on points like those instanced, their convictions
are so strong and their determination so great, that they
will time after time submit to extreme privations in the




362'PARLIAMENTARY REFORM: THE DANGERS, ETC.
effort to carry them, it is a reasonable expectation that
these convictions, pushed with this determination, would
soon be expressed in law, if those who held them had a
dominant power. With working men, questions concern
ing the regulation of labour are of the highest interest.
Candidates for Parliament would be more likely to obtain
their suffrages by pandering to their prejudices on such
questions, than in any other way. Should it be said that
no evil need be feared unless the artisan-class numerically
preponderated in the constituencies, it may be rejoined
that not unfrequently, where two chief political parties
are nearly balanced, some other party, though  much
smaller, determines the election. When we bear in mind
that the trades-unions throughout the kingdom number
300,000 members, and command a fund of.~300,000when we remember that these trades-unions are in the
habit of aiding each other, and have even been incorporated into one national association —when we also remem
ber that their organization is very complete, and their
power over their members mercilessly exercised, it seems
likely that at a general election their combined action
would decide the result in many towns: even though the
artisans in each case formed but a moderate portion of the
constituency. How influential small but combined bodies
are, the Irish Members of our House of Commons prove
to us, and still more clearly the Irish emigrants in Amer
ica. Certainly these trade-combinations are not less perfectly organized; nor are the motives of their members
less strong. Judge then how efficient their political action
would be.
It is true that in county-constituencies and rural towns,
the artisan class have no power; and that in the antagonism of agriculturists there would be a restraint on their
projects. But, on the other hand, the artisans would, on
these questions, have the sympathy of many not belong




DIFFICULTY OF EXTENDING FRANCHISE.        363
ing to their own body. Numerous small shopkeepers, and
others who are in point of means about on their level,
would go with them in their efforts to regulate the relations of capital and labour. Among the middle classes,
too, there are not a few kindly-disposed men who are so
ignorant of political economy as to think the artisans justified in their aims. Even among the landed class they
might find supporters. We have but to recollect the antipathy shown by landowners in Parliament to the manufacturing interest, during the ten-hours' agitation, to see
that it is quite possible for country squires to join the
working men in imposing restrictions unfavourable to employers. True, the angry feeling which then prompted
them has in some measure died away. It is to be hoped,
too, that they have gained wisdom. But still, remembering the past, we must take this contingency into account.
Here, then, is one of the dangers to which an extension of the franchise opens the door. While the fear that
the rights of property may be directly interfered with,
is absurd, it is a very rational fear that the rights of prop
erty may be indirectly interfered with-that by cramping
laws, the capitalist may be prevented from  using his
money as he finds best, and the workman from  selling
his labour to the greatest advantage. We are not prepared to say what widening of the representation would
bring about such results. We profess neither to estimate
what amount of artisan-power a ~6 or a ~5 borough-franchise would give; nor to determine whether the opposing
powers would suffice to keep it in check. Our purpose
here is simply to indicate this establishment of injurious
industrial regulations, as one of the dangers to be kept in
view.
Turn we now to another danger, distinct from the fore.
going, though near akin to it. Next after the evils of that




364  PARLIAMENTARY REFORM: THE DANGERB, ETC.
over-legislation which restricts the exchange of capital
and labour, come the evils of that over legislation which
provides for the community, by State-agency, benefits
which capital and labour should be left spontaneously to
provide. And it naturally though unfortunately happens,
that those who lean to the one kind of over-legislation,
lean also to the other kind. Men leading laborious lives,
relieved by little in the shape of enjoyment, give willing
ears to the doctrine that the State should provide them
with various positive advantages and gratifications. The
much-enduring poor cannot be expected to deal very critically with those who promise them gratis pleasures. As
a drowning man catches at a straw, so will one whose existence is burdensome catch at any thing, no matter how
unsubstantial, which holds out the slightest hope of a little happiness. We must not, therefore, blame the work
ing-classes for being ready converts to socialistic schemes,
or to a belief in " the sovereign power of political machinery."
Not that the working-classes alone fall into these delusions. Unfortunately they are countenanced, and have
been in part misled, by those above them. In Parliament
and out of Parliament, well-meaning men among the upper and middle ranks, have been active apostles of these
false doctrines.  There has ever been, and still continues to be, very much law-making based on the assumption, that it is the duty of the State, not simply to insure
each citizen fair play in the battle of life, but to help him
in fighting the battle of life; having previously taken
money from his or some one else's pocket to pay the cost
of doing this. And we cannot glance over the papers
without seeing how active are the agitations carried on
out of doors in furtherance of this policy, and how they
threaten to become daily more active. The doings of the
Chadwick-school furnish one set of illustrations. From




UTOPIANISMS OF THE WORKIIG-CLASSES.       365
those of the Shaftesbury-school other illustrations may be
gathered. And in the transactions of the body, absurdly
self-entitled " The National Association for the Promotion
of Social Science," we find still more numerous developments of this mischievous error.
When we say that the working-classes, and more especially the artisan-classes, have strong leanings towards
these Utopianisms, which they have unhappily been encouraged to entertain by many who should have known
better, we do not speak at random. We are not drawing
an d priori inference as to the doctrines likely to find favour with men in their position. Nor are we guided
merely by evidence to be gathered from newspapers. But
we have a basis of definite fact in the proceedings of reformed municipal governments. These bodies have from
year to year extended their functions; and so heavy has
in some cases become the consequent local taxation, as to
have caused a reaction against the political party that was
responsible.  Town-councils almost exclusively Whig
have of late been made comparatively Conservative, b)
the efforts of those richer classes who suffer most froir
municipal extravagance. With whom, then, has this ex
travagance been popular?  With the poorer members of
the constituencies.  Candidates for town-councillorship,
have found no better means of insuring the suffrages of
the mass, than the advocacy of this or the other local un
dertaking.  To build baths and wash-houses at the ex
pense of the town, has proved a popular proposal. The
support of public gardens, out of funds raised by local
rates, has been applauded by the majority. So, too, with
the establishment of free libraries, which has, of course,
met with encouragement from  workingmen, and from
those who wish to find favour with them. Should some
one, taking a hint from the cheap concerts now common
Ln our manufacturing towns, propose to supply music al




366  PARLIAMENTARY REFORM: THE DANGERS, ETC.
the public cost, we doubt not he would be hailed as a
friend of the people. And similarly with countless social
istic schemes, of which, when once commenced, there is
no end.
Such being the demonstrated tendencies of municipal
governments, with their extended bases of representation,
is it not a fair inference that a Central Government, having a base of representation much wider than the present,
would manifest like tendencies? We shall see the more
reason for fearing this, when we remember that those who
approve of multiplied State-agencies, would generally ally
themselves with those who seek for the legislative regulation of labour. The doctrines are near akin; and they
are, to a considerable extent, held by the same persons.
If united the two bodies would have a formidable power;
and, appealed to as they would often be, by candidates
expressing sympathy on both these points, they might,
even though a minority, get unduly represented in the
Legislature. Such, at least, seems to us a further danger.
Led by philanthropists having sympathies stronger than
their intellects, the working-classes are very likely to employ their influence in increasing over-legislation: not only
by agitating for industrial regulations, but in various other
ways. What extension of franchise would make this danger a serious one, we do not pretend to say. Here, as
before, we would simply indicate a probable source of
mischief.
And now what are the safeguards? Not such as we
believe will be adopted. To meet evils like those which
threaten to follow the impending political change, the
common plan is to devise special checks-minor limitations and qualifications. Not to dry up the evil at its
source, but to dam it out, is, in analogous cases, the usual
aim. We have no faith in such methods. The only effi




THE TRUE CORRECTIVE.             367
cient safeguard lies in a change of convictions and motives. And to work a change of this kind, there is no
certain way but that of letting men directly feel the penalties which mistaken legislation brings on them. " How
is this to be done?" the reader will doubtless ask. Simply by letting causes and effects stand in their natural
relations. Simply by taking away those vicious arrangements which now mostly prevent men from seeing the
reactions that follow legislative actions.
At present, the extension of public administrations is
popular, mainly because there has not been established in
the minds of the people, any distinct connection between
the benefits to be gained and the expenses to be paid. Of
the conveniences or gratifications secured to them by
some new body of officials with a fund at its disposal,
they have immediate experience; but of the way in which
the costs fall on the nation, and ultimately on themselves,
they have no immediate experience. Our fiscal arrangements dissociate the ideas of increased public expenditure
and increased burdens on all who labour, and thus encourage the superstition that law can give gratis benefits.
This is clearly the chief cause of that municipal extravagance to which we have above adverted. The working
men of our towns possess public power, while many of
them  do not directly bear public burdens.  On small
houses the taxes for borough-purposes are usually paid by
the landlords; and of late years, for the sake of convenience and economy, there has grown up a system of compounding with landlords of small houses even for the
poor's-rates chargeable to their tenants.
Under this arrangement, at first voluntary but now
compulsory, a certain discount off the total rates due from
a number of houses, is allowed to the owner, in considera.
tion of his paying the rates, and thus saving the authorities trouble and loss in collection. And he is supposed to




368  PARLIAMENTARY REFORM: THE DANGERS, ETC.
raise his rents by the full amount of the rates charged.
Thus, most municipal electors, not paying local taxes in a
separate form, are not constantly reminded of the connection between public expenditure and personal costs; and
hence it happens that any outlay made for local purposes,
no matter how extravagant and unreasonable, which
brings to them some kind of advantage, is regarded as
pure gain. If the corporation resolves, quite unnecessarily, to rebuild a town-hall, the resolution is of course approved by the majority. "It is good for trade, and it
costs us nothing," is the argument which passes vaguely
through their minds. If some one proposes to buy an
adjoining estate, and turn it into a public park, the working classes naturally give their support to the proposal;
for ornamented grounds cannot but be an advantage, and
though the rates may be increased, that will be no affair
of theirs. Thus necessarily arises a tendency to multiply
public agencies and increase public outlay. It becomes
an established policy with popularity-hunters, to advocate
new works to be executed by the town. Those who disapprove this course are in fear that their seats may be
jeopardized at the next election, should they make a vigorous opposition. And thus do these local administrations
inevitably lean towards abnormal developments.
No one can, we think, doubt, that were the rates levied directly on all electors, a check would be given to this
municipal communism. If each small occupier found that
every new work undertaken by the authorities, cost him
so many pence extra in the pound, he would begin to con
sider with himself, whether the advantage gained was
equivalent to the price paid; and would often reach a negative conclusion. It would become a question with him
whether, instead of letting the local government provide
him with certain remote advantages in return for certain
moneys, he might not himself purchase with such moneys




BENEFITS OF DIPECT TAXATION.          369
ammediate advantages of greater worth; and, generally,
he would decide that he could do this. Without saving
to what extent such a restraint would act, we may saeily
say that it would be beneficial. Every one must admit,
that each inhabitant of a town ought constantly to be reminded of the relation between the work performed for
him by the corporation and the sum he pays for it. No
one can, we think, deny that the habitual experience of
this relation would tend to keep the action of local gov
ernments within proper bounds.
Similarly with the Central Government.  Here the
effects wrought by public agencies, are still nlmre dissociated from the costs they entail on each citizen. The
bulk of the taxes being raised in so unobtrusive a way,
and affecting the masses in modes so difficult to trace, it is
scarcely possible for the masses to realize the fact, that
the sums paid by Government for supporting schools, for
facilitating emigration, for inspecting  mines, factories,
railways, ships, etc., have been in great part taken from
their own pockets. The more intelligent of them understand this as an abstract truth; but it is not a truth
present to their minds in such a definite shape as to influence their actions. Quite otherwise, however, would it be
if taxation were direct; and the expense of every new
State-agency were felt by each citizen as an additional
demand made oa him by the tax-gatherer. Then would
there be a clear, constantly-recurring experience of the
truth, that for every thing which the State gives with one
hand it takes away something with the other; and then
would it be less easy to propagate absurd delusions about
the powers and duties of Governments.
No one can question this conclusion who calls to mind
the reason currently given for maintaining indirect taxation; namely, that the required revenue could not otherwise be raised. Statesmen see that if instead of taking




370  PARLIAMENTARY REFORM: THE DANGERS, ETC
from the citizen here a little and there a little, iri ways
that he does not know or constantly forgets, the whole
amount were demanded in a lump sum, it would scarcely
be possible to get it paid.  Grumbling and resistance
would rise probably to disaffection. Coercion would in
hosts of cases be needed to obtain this large total tax;
which indeed, even with this aid, could not be obtained
from the majority of the people, whose improvident habits prevent the accumulation of considerable suIns. And
so the revenue would fall immensely short of that expenditure which is supposed necessary. This being assented
to, it must perforce be admitted that under a system of
direct taxation, further extension of public administrations, entailing further costs, would meet with general
opposition. Instead of multiplying the functions of the
State, the tendency would obviously be to reduce their
number.
Here, then, is one of the safeguards. The incidence
of taxation must be made more direct in proportion as the
franchise is extended. Our changes ought not to be in
the direction of the Compound-Householders-Act of 1851,
which makes it no longer needful for a Parliamentary elector to have paid poor's-rates before giving a vote; but
they ought to be in exactly the opposite direction. The
exercise of power over the national revenue, should be
indissolubly associated with the conscious payment of contributions to that revenue.  Direct taxation instead of
being limited, as many wish, must be extended to lower
and wider classes, as fast as these classes are endowed with
political power.
Probably this proposal will be regarded with small
favour by statesmen. It is not in the nature of things for
men to approve a system which tends to restrict their
powers. We know, too, that any great extension of direct taxation will be held at present impossible; and we




TAXATION SHOULD ACCOMPANY ENFRANCHISEMENT. 371
are not prepared to assert the contrary. This, however
is no reason against reducing the indirect taxation and
augmenting the direct taxation as far as circumstances al
low. And if when the last had been increased and the
first decreased to the greatest extent now practicable, it
were made an established principle that any additional
revenue must be raised by direct taxes, there would be an
efficient check to one of the evils likely to follow from
further political enfranchisement.
The other evil which we have pointed out as rationally
to be feared, cannot be thus met, however. Though an
ever-recurring experience of the relation between Stateaction and its cost, would hinder the growth of those
State-agencies which undertake to supply citizens with
positive conveniences and gratifications, it would be no
restraint on that negative and inexpensive over-legislation
which trespasses on individual freedom-it would not prevent mischievous meddling with the relations between labour and capital. Against this danger the only safeguards
appear to be, the spread of sounder views among the
working classes, and the moral advance which such sounder
views imply.
"That is to say, the people must be educated," responds the reader. Yes, education is the thing wanted;
but not the education for which most men agitate. Ordinary school-training is not a preparation for the right exercise of political power.  Conclusive proof of this is
given by the fact that the artisans, from whose mistaken
ideas the most danger is to be feared, are the best informed
of the working classes. Far from promising to be a safeguard, the spread of such education as is commonly given,
appears more likely to increase the danger. Raising the
working classes in general to the artisan-level of culture,
gather threatens to augment their power of working polit.




3T2  PARLIAMENTARY REFORM: THE DANGERS, ETC.
ical evil.  The current faith in Reading, Writing, and
Arithmetic, as fitting men for citizenship, seems to us
quite unwarranted: as are, indeed, most other anticipations of the benefits to be derived from learning lessons.
There is no connection between the ability to parse a
sentence, and a clear understanding of the causes that determine the rate of wages. The multiplication-table affords no aid in seeing through the fallacy that the destruction of property is good for trade. Long practice may
have produced extremely good penmanship without having given the least power to understand the paradox, that
machinery eventually increases the number of persons
employed in the trades into which it is introduced. Nor
is it proved that smatterings of mensuration, astronomy,
or geography, fit men for estimating the characters and
motives of Parliamentary candidates. Indeed we have
only thus to bring together the antecedents and the anticipated consequents, to see how untenable is the belief in
a relation between them. When we wish a girl to become
a good musician, we seat her before the piano: we do not
put drawing implements into her hands, and expect music
to come along with skill in the use of pencils and colourbrushes. Sending a boy to pore over law-books, would
be thought an extremely irrational way of preparing him
for civil engineering. And if in these and all other cases,
we do not expect fitness for any function except through
instruction and exercise in that function; why do we expect fitness for citizenship to be produced by a discipline
which has no relation to the duties of the citizen?
Probably it will be replied that by making the working man a good reader, we give him access to sources of
nformation from which he may learn how to use his electoral power; and that other studies sharpen his faculties
ind make him a better judge of political questions. This
is true; and the eventual tendency is unquestionably good




EDUCATION OF POLITICIANS.         373
But what if for a long time to come he reads only to oh
tain confirmation of his errors?  What if there exists
a literature appealing to his prejudices, and supplying
him with fallacious arguments for the mistaken beliefs
which he naturally takes up?  What if he rejects all
teaching that aims to disabuse him of cherished delusions?
Must we not say that the culture which thus merely helps
the workman to establish himself in error, rather unfits
than fits him for citizenship? And do not the trades'unions furnish us with evidence of this?
How little that which people commonly call education
prepares them for the use of political power, may be
judged from  the incompetency of those who have received the highest education the country affords. Glance
back at the blunders of our legislation, and then remember that the men who committed them had mostly taken
University-degrees, and you must admit that the profoundest ignorance of Social Science may accompany intimate acquaintance with all that our cultivated classes regard as valuable knowledge. Do but take a young member of Parliament, fresh from Oxford or Cambridge, and
ask him what he thinks Law should do, and why? or
what it should not do, and why? and it will become manifest that neither his familiarity with Aristotle nor his
readings in Thucydides, have prepared him to answer the
very first question a legislator ought to solve. A single
illustration will suffice to show how different an education
from that usually given, is required by legislators, and
consequently by those who elect them: we mean the illustration which the Free-trade agitation supplies. By kings,
peers, and members of Parliament, mostly brought up at
universities, trade had been hampered by protections, prohibitions, and bounties. For centuries had been maintained these legislative appliances which a very moderate
insight shows to be detrimental. Yet, of all the highly




374  PARLIAMENTARY REFORM: THE DANGERS, ETC.
educated throughout the nation during these centuries
scarcely a man saw how mischievous such appliances
were. Not from one who devoted himself to the most
approved studies, came the work which set politicians
right on these points; but from one who left college without a degree, and prosecuted inquiries which the established education ignored.  Adam  Smith examined for
himself the industrial phenomena of societies; contemplated the productive and distributive activities going on
around him; traced out their complicated mutual dependences; and thus reached general principles for political
guidance. In recent days, those who have most clearly
understood the truths he enunciated, and by persevering
exposition have converted the nation to their views, have
not been graduates of universities. While, contrariwise,
those who have passed through the prescribed curriculum,
have commonly been the most bitter and obstinate opponents of the changes dictated by politico-economical science.  In this all-important direction, right legislation
was urged by men deficient in the so-called best education; and was resisted by the great majority of men who
had received this so-called best education!
The truth for which we contend, and which is so
strangely overlooked, is, indeed, almost a truism. Does
not our whole theory of training imply that the right
preparation for political power is political cultivation?
Must not that teaching which can alone guide the citizen
in the fulfilment of his public actions, be a teaching that
acquaints him with the effects of public actions?
The second chief safeguard to which we must trust is,
then, the spread, not of that mere technical and miscellaneous knowledge which men are so eagerly propagating,
but of political knowledge; or, to speak more accuratelyknowledge of Social Science.  Above all, the essential
thing is, the establishment of a true theory of government




THE SUPREME QUESTION FOR POLITICIANS.   375
— a true conception of what legislation is for, and what
are its proper limits. This question which our political
discussions habitually ignore, is a question of greater moment than any other. Inquiries which statesmen deride
as speculative and unpractical, will one day be found infinitely more practical than those which they wade through
Blue Books to master, and nightly spend many hours in
debating. The considerations that every morning fill a
dozen columns of The Times, are mere frivolities when
compared with the fundamental consideration-What is
the proper sphere of government? Before discussing the
way in which law should regulate some particular thing,
would it not be wise to put the previous question —
Whether law ought or ought not to meddle with that.
thing? and before answering this, to put the more general question-What law should do, and what it should
leave undone? Surely, if there are any limits at all to
legislation, the settlement of these limits must have effects
far more profound than any particular Act of Parliament
can have; and must be by so much the more momentous.
Surely, if there is danger that the people may misuse political power, it is of supreme importance that they should
be taught for what purpose political power ought alone to
be used.
Did the upper classes understand their position, they
would, we think, see that the diffusion of sound views on
this matter more nearly concerns their own welfare and
that of the nation at large, than any other thing whatever.
Popular influence will inevitably go on increasing. Should
the masses gain a predominant power while their ideas of
social arrangements and legislative action remain as crude
as at present, there will certainly result disastrous meddlings with the relations of capital and labour, as well as
a disastrous extension of State-administrations. Immense
damage will be inflicted: primarily on employers; sece




376  PARIIAMENTARY REFORM: THE DANGERS) ETC.
ondarily on the employed; and eventually on the nation
as a whole. These evils can be prevented, only by establishing in the public mind a profound conviction that
there are certain comparatively narrow limits to the functions of the State; and that these limits ought on no account to be transgressed.  Having first learned what these
limits are, the upper classes ought energetically to use all
means of teaching them to the people.
In No. XXIV. of this journal, for October, 1857, we
endeavoured to show, that while representative government is, by its intrinsic nature, better than any other for
administering justice or insuring equitable relations of citizens to each other, it is, by its intrinsic nature, worse
than any other for all the various additional functions
which governments commonly undertake.  To the ques
tion-What is representative government good for? our
reply was-" It is good, especially good, good above all
others, for doing the thing which a government should do.
It is bad, especially bad, bad above all others, for doing
the things which a government should not do."
To this truth we may here'add a correlative one. As
fast as a government, by becoming representative, grows
better fitted for maintaining the rights of citizens, it
grows not only unfitted for other purposes, but dangerous
for other purposes. In gaining adaptation for the essential function of a government, it loses such adaptation as
it had for other functions; not only because its complexity is a hindrance to administrative action, but also because in discharging other functions it must be mischievously influenced by class bias. So long as it is confined
to the duty of preventing the aggressions of individuals
on each other, and protecting the nation at large against
external enemies, the wider its basis the better; for all
men are similarly interested in the security of life, prop




THE CORRELATIVE FUNCTIONS OF GOVERNMENT.  377
erty, and freedom to exercise the faculties.  But let it undertake to bring home positive benefits to citizens, or to
interfere with any of the special relations between class
and class, and there necessarily enters an incentive to injustice. For in no such cases can the immediate interests
of all classes be alike. Therefore do we say that as fast as
representation is extended, the sphere of government must
be contracted.
POSTSCRIPT.-Since the foregoing pages were written,
Lord John Russell has introduced his Reform  Bill; and
in application of the general principles we contend for, a
few words may fitly be added respecting it.
Of the extended county-franchise most will approve,
save those whose illegitimate influence is diminished by it.
Adding to the rural constituencies a class less directly
dependent on large landowners, can scarcely fail to be
beneficial. Even should it not at first perceptibly affect
the choice of representatives, it will still be a good stimulus to political education and to consequent future benefits. Of the redistribution of seats, little is to be said,
further than that, however far short it may fall of an equitable arrangement, it is perhaps as much as can at present
be obtained.
Whether the right limit for the borough-franchise has
been chosen, is, on the other hand, a question that admits
of much discussion.  Some hesitation will probably be
felt by all who duly weigh the evidence on both sides.
Believing, as we do, that the guidance of abstract equity,
however much it may need qualification, must never be ignored, we should be glad were it at once practicable more
nearly to follow it; since it is certain that only as fast as
the injustice of political exclusion is brought to an end,
will the many political injustices which grow out of it,
disappear.  Nevertheless, we are convinced that the forms




378  PARLIAMENTARY REFORM: THE DANGERS, ETC.
which freedom  requires, will not of themselves produce
the reality of freedom, in the absence of an appropriate
national character, any more than the most perfect mechanism will do its work in the absence of a motive power.
There seems good reason to think that the degree of liberty a people is capable of in any given age, is a fixed
quantity; and that any artificial extension of it in one direction, simply brings about an equivalent limitation in
some other direction. French republics show scarcely any
more respect for individual rights than the despotisms
they supplant; and French electors use their freedom to
put themselves again in slavery. In America, the feeble
restraints imposed by the State are supplemented by the
strong restraints of a public opinion which, in many respects, holds the citizens in greater bondage than here.
And if there needs a demonstration that representative
equality is an insufficient safeguard for freedom, we have
it in the trades'-unions already referred to; which, purely
democratic as is their organization, yet exercise over their
members a tyranny that is almost Neapolitan in its rigour
and unscrupulousness.  The greatest attainable amount
of individual liberty of action, being the true end; and
the diffusion of political power being regarded mainly as
a means to this end; the real question when considering
further extensions of the franchise, is-whether the average liberty of action of citizens will be increased?whether men will be severally freer than before to pursue
the objects of life in their own way? Or, in the present
case, the question is-whether the good which ~7, ~6, ol
~5 householders would undoubtedly do in helping to abolish existing injustices, will be partly or wholly neutralized
by the evil they might do in establishing other injustices?
The desideratum is, as large an increase in the number
of electors as can be made without enabling the people
to carry out their delusive schemes of over-legislation




INFLUENCE OF TRADES-UNIONS.          379
Whether the increase proposed is greater or less than this,
is the essential point. Let us briefly consider the evidence
on each side.
As shown by Lord J. Russell's figures, the new borough-electors will consist mainly of artisans; and these,
as we have seen, are in great part banded together by a
common wish to regulate the relations of capital and labour. As a class, they are not as Lord J. Russell describes
them, "fitted to exercise the franchise freely and independently."  On the contrary, there are no men in the
community so shackled. They are the slaves of the authorities they have themselves set up.  The dependence
of farmers on landlords, or of operatives on employers, is
much less servile; for they can carry their capital or labour elsewhere.  But the penalty for disobedience to
trades-union dictates, pursues the rebel throughout the
kingdom.  Hence the great mass of the new boroughelectors must be expected to act simultaneously, on the
word of command being issued from a central council of
united trades. Even while we write, we meet with fresh
reason for anticipating this result. An address from the
Conference of the Building Trades to the working classes
throughout the kingdom, has just been published, thanking them for their support; advising the maintenance of
the organization; anticipating future success in their aims:
and intimating the propriety of recommencing the ninehours' agitation. We must, then, be prepared to see these
industrial questions made leading questions; for artisans
have a much keener interest in them than in any others.
And we may feel certain that many elections will turn
upon them.
How many? There are some thirty boroughs in which
the newly-enfranchised will form an actual majority —will,
if they act together, be able to outvote the existing electors; even supposing the parties into which they are now




380  PARLIAMENTARY REFORM: THE DANGERS, ETC.
divided were to unite. In half-a-dozen other boroughs,
the newly-enfranchised will form a virtual majority-will
preponderate unless the present liberal and conservative
voters co5perate with great unanimity, which they will be
unlikely to do. And the number proposed to be added to
the constituency, is one-half or more in nearly fifty other
boroughs: that is, in nearly fifty other boroughs, the new
party will be able to arbitrate between the two existing
parties; and will give its support to whichever of these
promises most aid to artisan-schemes. It may be said that
in this estimate we assume the whole of the new boroughelectors to belong to the artisan-class, which they do not.
This is true. But on the other hand it must be remembered, that among the ~10 householders there is a very
considerable sprinkling of this class, while the freemen
chiefly consist of it; and hence the whole artisan body in
each constituency will probably be not smaller than we
have assumed. If so, it follows that should the tradesunion organization be brought to bear on borough-elec
tions, as it is pretty certain to be, it may prevail in some
eighty or ninety places, and command from  100 to 150
seats-supposing, that is, that it can obtain as many eligible candidates.
Meanwhile, the county-constituencies in their propose.
state, as much as in their existing state, not being undei
trades-union influence, may be expected to stand in antagonism to the artisan-constituencies, as may also the small
boroughs. It is just possible, indeed, that irritated by the
ever-growing power of a rich mercantile class, continually
treading closer on their heels, the landowners, carrying
with them their dependents, might join the employed in
their dictation to employers; just as, in past times, the
nobles joined the commonalty against the kings, or the
kings joined the commonalty against the nobles. But
leaving out this remote contingency, we may fairly expect
n                11_11~~~(~Jl( ~ mP   flT




NATURAL RESTRAINTS OF CLASS-INTERESTS.   381
the rural constituencies to oppose the large urban ones on
these industrial questions. Thus, then, the point to be
decided is, whether the benefits that will result from this
extended suffrage-benefits which we doubt not will be
great-may not be secured, while the accompanying evil
tendencies are kept in check. It may be that these new
aitisan-electors will be powerful for good, while their
power to work evil will be in a great degree neutralized.
But this we should like to see well discussed.
On one question, however, we feel no  hesitation;
namely, the question of a ratepaying-qualification.  From
Lord John Russell's answer to Mr. Bright, and more recently from  his answer to Mr. Steel, we gather that on
this point there is to be no alteration-that ~6 householders will stand on the same footing that ~10 householders
do at present. Now by the Compound-IHouseholders-Act
of 1851, to which we have already referred, it is provided
that tenants of ~10 houses whose rates are paid by their
landlords, shall, after having once tendered payment of
rates to the authorities, be thereafter considered as ratepayers, and have votes accordingly. That is to say, the
ratepaying-qualification is made nominal; and that in
practice it has become so, is proved by the fact that under
this Act, 4,000 electors were suddenly added to the con
stituency of Manchester.
The continuance and extension of this arrangement,
we conceive to be wholly vicious.  Already we have
shown that the incidence of taxation ought to be made
more direct as fast as popular power is increased; and
that, as diminishing the elector's personal experience of
the costs of public administration, this abolition of a ratepaying-qualification is a retrograde step. But this is by
no means the sole ground for disapproval.  The ratepaying-qualification is a valuable test-a test which tends to
separate the more worthy of the working classes from the




382  PARLIAMENTARY REFORM: THE DANGERS, ETC.
less worthy. Nay more, it tends to select for enfranchise.
ment, those who have the moral and intellectual qualities
especially required for judicious political conduct. For
what general mental characteristic does judicious political
conduct presuppose? The power of realizing remote consequences. People who are misled by demagogues, are
those who are impressed with the proximate results set
forth to them, but are not impressed by the distant results,
even when these are explained-regard them  as vague,
shadowy, theoretical, and are not to be deterred by them
from clutching at a promised boon. Conversely, the wise
citizen is the one who conceives the distant evils so clearly,
that they are practically present to him, and thus outweigh the immediate temptation. Now these are just the
respective characteristics of the two classes of tenants
whom a ratepaying-qualification separates:-the one having their rates paid by their landlords, and so losing their
votes; the other paying their own rates, that they may
get votes:-the one unable to resist present temptations,
unable to save money, and therefore so inconvenienced by
the payment of rates as to be disfranchised rather than
pay them; the other resisting present temptations and
saving money, with the view, among other ends, of paying rates and becoming electors. Trace their respective
traits to their sources, and it becomes manifest, that, on
the average, the pecuniarily improvident must be also the
politically improvident; and that the politically provident
must be far more numerous among those who are pecuniarily provident.  Hence, it is a folly to throw aside a
regulation under which these spontaneously separate themselves-severally disfranchise themselves and enfranchise
themselves.




XL
MILL versu3 HAMILTON-THE TEST 01
TRUTH.
BRITISH speculation, to which, notwithstanding adverse
Continental opinion, the chief initial ideas and established truths of Modern Philosophy are due, is no longer
dormant. By his System of Logic, Mr. Mill probably did
more than any other writer to re-awaken it. And to the
great service he thus rendered some twenty years ago, he
now adds by his Examination of Sir William HWamilton's
Philosophy-a work which, taking the views of Sir William Hamilton as texts, reconsiders sundry ultimate questions that still remain unsettled.
Among these questions is one of great importance
which has already been the subject of controversy between
Mr. Mill and others; and this question I propose to discuss
afresh. Before doing so, however, it will be desirable to
glance at two cardinal doctrines of the Hamiltonian philosophy from which Mr. Mill shows reasons for dissenting
-desirable, because comment on them will elucidate what
is to follow.
In his fifth chapter, Mr. Mill points out that "what
is rejected as knowledge by Sir William Hamilton," is
brought back by him under the name of belief."  The
17




384              THE TEST OF TRUTH.
quotations justify this description of Sir WV. Hamilton's
position; and warrant the assertion that the relativity of
knowledge was held by him in but a nominal sense. Iis
inconsistency may, I think, be traced to the use of the
word "belief" in two quite different senses. We commonly say we "believe " a thing for which we can assign
some preponderating evidence, or concerning which we
have received some indefinable impression. We believe
that the next House of Commons will not abolish Churchrates; or we believe that a person on whose face we look
is good-natured. That is, when we can give confessedlyinadequate proofs or no proofs at all for the things we
think, we call them  "beliefs."  And it is the peculiarity
of these beliefs, as contrasted with cognitions, that their
connections with antecedent states of consciousness may
be easily severed, instead of being difficult to sever. But
unhappily, the word "belief" is also applied to each of
those temporarily or permanently indissoluble connections
in consciousness, for the acceptance of which the only warrant is that it cannot be got rid of. Saying that I feel a
pain, or hear a sound, or see one line to be longer than
another, is saying that there has occurred in me a certain
change of state; and it is impossible for me to give a
stronger evidence of this fact than that it is present to my
mind. The tissue of every argument, too, is resolvable
into affections of consciousness that have no warrants beyond themselves. When asked why I assert some mediately-known truth, as that the three angles of a triangle
are equal to two right angles, I find that the proof may be
decomposed into steps, each of which is an immediate consciousness that certain two quantities or two relations are
equal or unequal-a consciousness for which no further evidence is assignable than that it exists in me. Nor, on
finally getting down to some axiom underlying the whole
fabric of demonstration, can I say more than that it is a




DOUBLE USE OF THE TERM c BELIEFS.         385
truth of which I am immediately conscious. But now observe the confusion that has arisen. The immense majority of truths which we accept as beyond doubt, and from
which our notion of unquestionable truth is abstracted,
have this other trait in common-they are severally established by affiliation on deeper truths. These two characters have become so associated, that one seems to imply
the other. For each truth of geometry we are able to
assign some wider truth in which it is involved; for that
wider truth we are able, if required, to assign some still
wider; and so on. This being the general nature of the
demonstration by which exact knowledge is established,
there has arisen the illusion that knowledge so established
is knowledge of higher validity than  that immediate
knowledge which has nothing deeper to rest on. The
habit of asking for proof, and having proof given, in all
these multitudinous cases, has produced the implication
that proof may be asked for those ultimate dicta of consciousness into which all proof is resolvable. And then,
because no proof of these can be given, there arises the
vague feeling that they are akin to other things of which
no proof can be given-that they are uncertain-that they
have unsatisfactory bases. This feeling is strengthened by
the accompanying misuse of words. "Belief" having, as
above pointed out, become the name of an impression for
which we can give only a confessedly-inadequate reason,
or no reason at all; it happens that when pushed hard respecting the warrant for any ultimate dictum of consciousness, we say, in the absence of all assignable reason, that
we believe it. Thus the two opposite poles of knowledge
go under the same name; and by the reverse connotations
of this name, as used for the most coherent and least coherent relations of thought, profound misconceptions have
been generated. Here, it seems to me, is the source of Sir
William  Hamilton's error. Classing as "beliefs" those




386               THE TEST OF TRUTH.
direct, undecomposable dicta of consciousness which tran
ecend proof, he asserts that these are of higher authority
than knowledge (meaning by knowledge that for which
reasons can be given); and in asserting this he is fully justifle l. But when he claims equal authority for those affections of consciousness which go under the same name of
"b eliefs," but differ in being extremely-indirect affections
of consciousness, or not definite affections of consciousness
at all, the claim cannot be admitted. By his own showing, no positive cognition answering to the word "infinite " exists; while, contrariwise, those cognitions which he
rightly holds to be above question, are not only positive,
but have the peculiarity that they cannot be suppressed.
How, then, can the two be grouped together as of like degrees of validity?
Nearly allied in nature to this, is another Hamiltonian
doctrine, which Mr. Miill very effectively combats. I refer
to the corollary respecting noumenal existence which Sir
William  Hamilton draws from  the law of the Excluded
Middle, or, as it might be more intelligibly called, the
law of the Alternative Necessity.  A  thing must either
exist or not exist-must have a certain attribute or not
have it: there is no third possibility. This is a postulate
of all thought; and in so far as it is alleged of phenomenal existence, no one calls it in question.  But Sir William
Ilamilton, applying the formula beyond  the limits of
thought, draws from  it certain  conclusions respecting
things as they are, apart from our consciousness. He says,
for example, that though we cannot conceive Space as
infinite or as finite, yet, "on the principle of the Excluded
Middle, one or other must be admitted."  This inference
MIr. Mill shows good reason for rejecting.  IHis argument
may be supplemented by another, which at once suggests
itself if from the words of Sir William Hamilton's propositions we pass to the thoughts for which they are supposed




ANTITHETIC STATES OF CONSCIOUSNESS.        387
to stand. When remembering a certain thing as in a certain place, the place and the thing are mentally represented together; while to think of the non-existence of the
thing in that place, implies a consciousness in which the
place is represented but not the thing. Similarly, if, instead of thinking of an object as colorless, we think of it
as having color, the change consists in the addition to the
concept of an element that was before absent from it-the
object cannot be thought of first as red and then as not
red, without one component of the thought being totally
expelled from the mind by another. The doctrine of the
Excluded Middle, then, is simply a generalization of the
universal experience that some mental states are directly
destructive of other states.  It formulates a certain absolutely-constant law, that no positive mode of consciousness
can occur without excluding a correlative negative mode;
and that the negative mode cannot occur without excluding the correlative positive mode: the antithesis of positive and negative, being, indeed, merely an expression of
this experience. Hence it follows that if consciousness is
not in one of the two modes, it must be in the other. But
now, under what conditions only can this law of consciousness hold? It can hold only so long as there are positive
states of consciousness that can exclude the negative states,
and which the negative states can in their turn exclude.
If we are not concerned with positive states of consciousness at all, no such mutual exclusion takes place, and the
law of the Alternative Necessity does not apply.  Here,
then, is the flaw in Sir William  Hamilton's proposition.
That Space must be infinite or finite, are alternatives of
which we are not obliged to regard one as necessary, seeing that we have no state of consciousness answering to
either of these words as applied to the totality of Space,
and therefore no exclusion of two antagonist states of consciousness by one another.  Both alternatives being un.




388               THE TEST OF TRUTH.
lhinkable, the proposition should be put thus: Space is
either       or is; neither of which can be conceived, but one of which must be true.  In this, as in
other cases, Sir WIilliam Hamilton continues to work out
the forms of thought when they no longer contain any
substance; and, of course, reaches nothing more than verbal conclusions.
Ending here these comments on doctrines of Sir William  Hamilton, which Mr. Mill rejects on grounds that
will be generally recognized as valid, let me now pass to a
doctrine, partly held by Sir William Hamilton, and held
by others in ways variously qualified and variously extended-a doctrine which, I think, may be successfully defended
against Mr. Mill's attack.
In the fourth and fifth editions of his Logic, 3r. Mill
treats, at considerable length, the question, Is inconceivability an evidence of untruth?-replying to criticisms previously made on his reasons for asserting that it is not.
The chief answers which he there makes to these criticisms, turn upon the interpretation of the word inconceivable.  This word he considers is used as the equivalent
of the word unbelievable; and, translating it thus, readily disposes of sundry arguments brought against him.
Whether any others who have used these words in philosophical discussion, have made them synonymous, I do not
know; but that they are so used in those reasonings of
my own which Mr. Mill combats, I was not conscious, and
was surprised to find alleged. It is now manifest that I
had not adequately guarded myself against the misconstruction which is liable to arise from the double meaning of the word belief-a word which, we have seen, is
used for the most coherent and the least coherent connections in consciousness, because they have the common
character that no reason is assignable for them.  Through.




cc UNBELIEVABLE " AND cc INCONCEIVABLE."    389
out the argument to which Mr. Mill replies, the word is
used only in the first of these senses. The " invariably
existent beliefs," the " indestructible beliefs," are the indissoluble connections in consciousness-never the dissoluble
ones. But unbelievable implies the dissoluble ones. By
association with the other and more general meaning of
the word belief, the word unbelievable suggests cases where
the proposition admits of being represented in thought,
though it may be with difficulty; and where, consequently,
the counter-proposition admits of being decomposed. To
be quite sure of our ground, let us define and illustrate the
meanings of inconceivable and unbelievable.  An inconceivable proposition is one of which the terms cannot, by
any effort, be brought before consciousness in that relation
which the proposition asserts between them-a proposition of which the subject and the predicate offer an insurmountable resistance to union in thought. An unbelievable proposition is one which admits of being framed in
thought, but is so much at variance with experience, in
which its terms have habitually been otherwise united,
that its terms cannot be put in the alleged relation without effort. Thus, it is unbelievable that a cannon-ball
fired from England should reach America; but it is not
inconceivable.  Conversely, it is inconceivable that one
side of a triangle is equal to the sum of the other two
sides-not simply unbelievable. The two sides cannot be
represented in consciousness as becoming equal in their
joint length to the third side, without the representation
of a triangle being destroyed; and the concept of a triangle cannot be framed without a simultaneous destruction
of a concept in which these magnitudes are represented as
equal. That is to say, the subject and predicate cannot be
united in the same intuition-the proposition is unthinkable. It is in this sense only that I have used the word
inconceivable; and only when rigorously restricted to this




390               THE TEST OF rHUTH.
sense do I regard the test of inconceivableness as having
any value.
I had concuded that when this explanation was made,
Mr. Mill's reasons for dissent would be removed. Passages
in his recently-published volume, however, show that, even
restricting the use of the word inconceivable to the mean
ing here specified, he still denies that a proposition is
proved to be true by the inconceivableness of its negation.
To meet, within any moderate compass, all the issues which
have grown out of the controversy, is difficult.  Before
passing to the essential question, however, I will endeavor
to clear the ground of certain minor questions.
Describing Sir William Hamilton's doctrine respecting
the ultimate facts of consciousness, or those which are
above proof, 3ir. Mill writes:
" The only condition he requires is that we be not able
to' reduce it (a fact of this class) to a generalization from
experience.' This condition is realized by its possessing
the'character of necessity.''It must be impossible not
to think it. In fact, by its necessity alone can we recognize it as an original datum of intelligence, and distinguish
it from any mere result of generalization and custom. In
this Sir William Hamilton is at one with the whole of his
own section of the philosophical world; with Reid, with
Stewart, with Cousin, with Whewell, we may add, with
Kant, and even with Mr. Herbert Spencer. The test by
which they all decide a belief to be a part of our primitive
consciousness-an original intuition of the mind-is the
necessity of thinking it. Their proof that we must always, from the beginning, have had the belief, is the impossibility of getting rid of it now. This argument, ap.
plied to any of the disputed questions of philosophy, is
doubly illegitimate: neither the major nor the minor premise is admissible. For in the first place, the very fact that
the question is disputed, disproves the alleged impossibil.




MR. MILL'S POSITION.                391
ity   Those against whom  it is needful to defend the beliel which is affirmed to be necessary, are unmistakable
examples that it is not necessary..... These philosophers, therefore, and among them  Sir William  Hamilton,
mistake altogether the true conditions of psychological
investigation, when, instead of proving a belief to be an
original fact of consciousness by showing that it could not
have been acquired, they conclude that it was not acquired, for the reason, often false, and never sufficiently substantiated, that our consciousness cannot get rid of it now."
This representation, in so far as it concerns my own
views, has somewhat puzzled me. Considering that I have
avowed a general agreement with Mr. Mill in the doctrine
that all knowledge is from experience, and have defended
the test of inconceivableness on the very ground that it
" expresses the net result of our experience up to the present time" (Principles of Psychology, pp. 22, 23)-considering that, so far from asserting the distinction quoted
from Sir William  Hamilton, I have aimed to abolish such
distinction-considering that I have endeavored to show
how all our conceptions, even down to those of Space and
Time, are " acquired "-considering that I have sought to
interpret forms of thought (and by implication all intuitions) as products of organized and inherited experiences
(Principles of Psychology, p. 579) —   am taken aback at
finding myself classed as in the above paragraph.  Leaving the personal question, however, let me pass to the assertion that the difference of opinion respecting the test of
necessity itself disproves the validity of the test.  Two
issues are here involved. First, if a particular proposition
is by some accepted as a necessary belief, but by one or
more denied to be a necessary belief, is the validity of the
test of necessity thereby disproved in respect of that par.
ticular proposition? Second, if the validity of the test is
disproved in respect of that particular proposition, does it




392               THE TEST OF TRUTH.
therefore follow that the test cannot be depended on in
other cases?-does it follow that there are no beliefs uni.
versally accepted as necessary, and in respect of which the
test of necessity is valid? Each of these questions may,
I think, be rightly answered in the negative.
In alleging that if a belief is said by some to be necessary, but by others to be not necessary, the test of necessity is thereby shown to be no test, Mr. Mill tacitly assumes that all men have powers of introspection enabling
them  in all cases to say what consciousness testifies;
whereas a great proportion of men are incapable of correctly interpreting consciousness in any but its simplest
modes, and even the remainder are liable to mistake for
dicta of consciousness what prove on closer examination
not to be its dicta. Take the case of an arithmetical blunder. A boy adds up a column of figures, and brings out a
wrong total. Again he does it, and again errs. His master asks him to go through the process aloud, and then
hears him say " 35 and 9 are 46 "-an error which he had
repeated on each occasion. Now, without discussing the
mental act through which we know that 35 and 9 are 44,
and through which we recognize the necessity of this relation, it is clear that the boy's misinterpretation of consciousness, leading him tacitly to deny this necessity by
asserting that " 35 and 9 are 46," cannot be held to prove
that the relation is not necessary. This, and kindred misjudgments daily made by the most disciplined accountants, merely show that there is a liability to overlook what
are necessary connections in our thoughts, and to assume
as necessary others which are not. In these and hosts of
cases, men do not distinctly translate into their equivalent
states of consciousness the words they use. This negligence is with many so habitual, that they are unaware that
they have not clearly represented to themselves the propoiitions they assert; and are then apt, quite sincerely though




DENIAL OF NECESSARY TRUTHS.           393
erroneously, to assert that they can think things which it
is really impossible to think.
But supposing it to be true that whenever a particular
belief is alleged to be necessary, the existence of-some
who profess themselves able to believe otherwise, proves
that this belief is not necessary; must it be therefore admitted that the test of necessity is invalid? I think not.
Men may mistake for necessary, certain beliefs which are
not necessary; and yet it may remain true that there are
necessary beliefs, and that the necessity of such beliefs is
our warrant for them.  Were conclusions thus tested
proved to be wrong in a hundred cases, it would not fbllow that the test is an invalid one; any more than it would
follow from a hundred errors in the use of a logical formula, that the logical formula is invalid. If from the
premise that all horned animals ruminate, it were inferred
that the rhinoceros, being a horned animal, ruminates; the
error would furnish no argument against the worth of syllogisms in general-whatever their worth may be. Daily
there are thousands of erroneous deductions which, by
those who draw them, are supposed to be warranted by
the data from which they draw them; but no multiplication of such erroneous deductions is regarded as proving
that there are no deductions truly drawn, and that the
drawing of deductions is illegitimate. In these cases, as
in the case to which they are here paralleled, the only
thing shown is the need for verification of data and criticism of the acts of consciousness.
" This argument," says Mr. Mill, referring to the argument of necessity, "applied to any of the disputed questions of philosophy, is doubly illegitimate;... the very
fact that the question is disputed, disproves the alleged
impossibility." Besides the foregoing replies to this, there
is another. Granting that there have been appeals illegiti.
mately made to this test-granting that there are many




394              THE TEST OF TRUTH.
questions too complex to be settled by it, which men have
nevertheless proposed to settle by it, and have consequently got into controversy; it may yet be truly asserted
that in respect of all, or almost all, questions legitimately
brought to judgment by this test, there is no dispute about
the answer. From  the earliest times on record down to
our own, men have not changed their beliefs concerning
the truths of number, The axiom that if equals be added
to unequals the sums are unequal, was held by the Greeks
no less than by ourselves, as a direct verdict of consciousness, from which there is no escape and no appeal. Each
of the propositions of Euclid appears to us as absolutely
beyond doubt as it did to them. Each step in each demonstration we accept, as they accepted it, because we immediately see that the alleged relation is as alleged, and
that it is impossible to conceive it otherwise.
But how are legitimate appeals to the test to be distinguished? The answer is not difficult to find. Mr. Mill
cites the belief in the antipodes as having been rejected
by the Greeks because inconceivable, but as being held by
ourselves to be both conceivable and true. He has before
given this instance, and I have before objected to it (Principles of Psychology, p. 32), for the reason that the states
of consciousness involved in the judgment are too complex
to admit of any trustworthy verdict being given. An
illustration will show the difference between a legitimate
appeal to the test and an illegitimate appeal to it. A and
B are two lines. How is it decided that they are equal or
not equal? No way is open but that of comparing the
two impressions they make on consciousness. I know
them to be unequal by an immediate act, if the difference
is great, or if, though only moderately different, they are
close together; and supposing the difference is but slight,
I decide the question by putting the lines in apposition
when they are movable, or by carrying a movable line




ILLEGITIMATE APPEALS TO IT.           395
A          B              C     D
romin one to the other if they are fixed. But in any case,
[ obtain in consciousness the testimony that the impression
produced by the one line differs from that produced by the
other. Of this difference I can give no further evidence
than that I am conscious of it, and find it impossible, while
contemplating the lines, to get rid of the consciousness.
The proposition that the lines are unequal is a proposition
of which the negation is inconceivable. But now suppose
it is asked whether B and c are equal; or whether c and D
are equal. No positive answer is possible. Instead of its
being inconceivable that B is longer than c, or equal to it,
or shorter, it is conceivable that it is any one of the three.
Here an appeal to the direct verdict of consciousness is
illegitimate, because on transferring the attention from B
to c, or c to D, the changes in the other elements of the
impressions so entangle the elements to be compared, as to
prevent them fiom being put in apposition. If the question of relative length is to be determined, it must be by
rectification of the bent line; and this is done through a series of steps, each one of which involves an immediate judgment akin to that by which A and B are compared. Now
as here, so in other cases, it is only simple percepts or concepts respecting the relations of which immediate consciousness can satisfactorily testify; and as here, so in
other cases, it is by resolution into such simple percepts




396              THE TEST OF TRUTH.
and concepts, that true judgments respecting complex per
cepts and concepts are reached. That things which are
equal to the same thing are equal to one another, us a fact
which can be known by direct comparison of actual.or
ideal relations, and can be known in no other way: the
proposition is one of which the negation is inconceivable,
and is rightly asserted on that warrant. But that the
square of the hypothenuse of a right-angled triangle equals
the sum of the squares of the other two sides, cannot be
known immediately by comparison of two states of consciousness. Here the truth can be reached only mediately,
through a series of simple judgments respecting the likenesses or unlikenesses of certain relations: each of which
judgments is essentially of the same kind as that by which
the above axiom  is known, and has the same warrant.
Thus it becomes apparent that the fallacious result of the
test of necessity which Mr. Mill instances, is due to a misapplication of the test.
These preliminary explanations have served to make
clear the question at issue. Let us now pass to the essence
of it.
MIetaphysical reasoning is usually vitiated by some
covert petitio principii. Either the thing to be proved or
the thing to be disproved, is tacitly assumed to be true in
the course of the proof or disproof. It is thus with the
argument of Idealism. Though the conclusion reached is
that Mind and Ideas are the only existences; yet the steps
by which this conclusion is reached, take for granted that
external objects have just the kind of independent ex.
istence which is eventually denied.  If that extension
which the Idealist contends is merely an affection of cons:iousness, has nothing out of consciousness answering to
it; then, in each of his propositions concerning extension.
the word should always mean an affection of conscious




IDEALISM AND SCEPTCISM.               397
ness, and nothing more.  But if wherever he speaks of di,
tances and dimensions we write ideas of distances and dimensions, his propositions are reduced to nonsense. So,
too, is it with Scepticism.  The resolution of all knowledge
into " impressions" and " ideas," is effected by an analysis
which assumes at every step an objective reality producing
the impressions and the subjective reality receiving them.
The reasoning becomes impossible if the existence of olject and subject be not admitted at the outset. Agree
with the Sceptic's doubt, and then propose to revise his
argument so that it may harmonize with his doubt.  Of
the two alternatives between which he halts, assume, first,
the reality of object and subject.  His argument is practicable; whether valid or not.  Now assume that object
and subject do not exist. Ie cannot stir a step toward
his conclusion-nay, he cannot even state his conclusion;
for the word " impression" cannot be translated into
thought without assuming a thing impressing and a thing
impressed.
Though Empiricism, as at present understood, is not
thus suicidal, it is open to an analogous criticism on its
method, similarly telling against the validity of its inference. It proposes to account for our so-called necessary
beliefs, as well as all our other beliefs; and to do this
without postulating any one belief as necessary. Bringing forward abundant evidence that the connections among
our states of consciousness are determined by our experiences-that two experiences frequently recurring together in consciousness, become so coherent that one
strongly suggests the other, and that when their joint re.
currence is perpetual and invariable, the connection between them becomes indissoluble; it argues that the indissolubility, so produced, is all that we mean by necessity.
And then it seeks to explain each of our so-called necessary beliefs as thus originated. Now could pure Empiri




398               THE TEST OF TRUTH.
cism reach this analysis and its subsequent synthesis with.
out taking any thing for granted, its arguments would he
unobjectionable.  But it cannot do this.  Examine its
phraseology, and there arises the question, Experiences of
what?  Translate the word into thought, and it clearly
involves something more than states of mind and the connections among them. For if it does not, then the hypothesis is that states of mind are generated by the expe.
riences of states of mind; and if the inquiry be pursued,
this ends with initial states of mind which are not accounted for-the hypothesis fails. Evidently, there is tacitly assumed something beyond the mind by which the
"experiences" are produced-something in which exist
the objective relations to which the subjective relations
correspond-an external world.  Refuse thus to explain
the word " experiences," and the hypothesis becomes meaningless.  But now, having thus postulated an external
reality as the indispensable foundation of its reasonings,
pure Empiricism can subsequently neither prove nor disprove its postulate. An attempt to disprove it, or to give
it any other meaning than that originally involved, is suicidal; and an attempt to establish it by inference is reasoning in a circle. What then are we to say of this proposition on which Empiricism rests?  Is it a necessary belief, or is it not? If necessary, the hypothesis in its pure
form  is abandoned. If not necessary-if not posited d
priori as absolutely certain-then the hypothesis rests on
an uncertainty; and the whole fabric of its argument is
unstable. More than this is true. Besides the insecurity
implied by building on a foundation that is confessedly
not beyond question, there is the much greater insecurity
implied by raising proposition upon proposition of which
each is confessedly not beyond question. For to say that
there are no necessary truths, is to say that each successive
hlference is not necessarily involved in its premises-is




TIE ASSIUMPTIONS OF EMPIRICISM.         399
an empirical judgment-a judgment not certainly true.
Hence, applying rigorously its own doctrine, we find that
pure Empiricism, starting from  an uncertainty and pro.
gressing through a series of uncertainties, cannot claim
much certainty for its conclusion.
Doubtless, it may be replied that any theory of human
knowledge must set out with assumptions-either permanent or provisional; and that the validity of these assumptions is to be determined by the results reached through
them.  But that such assumptions may be made legitimately, two things are required. In the first place they
must not be multiplied step after step as occasion requires;
otherwise the conclusion reached might as well be assumed
at once. And in the second place, the fact that they are
assumptions must not be lost sight of: the conclusions
drawn must not be put forward as though they have a
certainty which the premises have not. Now pure Empiricism, in common with other theories of knowledge, is
open to the criticism, that it neglects thus avowedly to
recognize the nature of those primary assumptions which
it lays down as provisionally valid, if it denies that they
can be necessarily valid. And it is open to the further
criticism, that it goes on at every step in its argument
making assumptions which it neglects to specify as provisional; since they, too, cannot be known as necessary.
Until it has assigned some warrant for its original datum
and for each of its subsequent inferences, or else has acknowledged them  all to be but hypothetical, it may be
stopped either at the outset or at any stage in its argu.
ment. Against every "because" and every "therefore,"
an opponent may enter a caveat, until he is told why it is
asserted: contending, as he may, that if this inference is
not necessary he is not bound to accept it; and that if it
is necessary it must be openly declared to be necessary,




o00               THE TEST OF TRUTH.
and some test must be assigned by which it is distinguished
from propositions that are not necessary.
These considerations will, I think, make it obvious that
the first step in a metaphysical argument, rightly carried
on, must be an examination of propositions for the purpose of ascertaining what character is common to those
which we call unquestionably true, and is implied by asserting their unquestionable truth.  Further, to carry on
this inquiry legitimately, we must restrict our analysis
rigorously to states of consciousness considered in their
relations to one another: wholly ignoring any thing beyond consciousness to which these states and their relations may be supposed to refer.  For if, before we have
ascertained by comparing propositions what is tile trait
that leads us to class some of them  as certainly true, we
avowedly or tacitly take for granted the existence of
something beyond consciousness; then, a particular proposition is assumed to be certainly true before we have ascertained what is the distinctive character of the propositions which we call certainly true, and the analysis is
vitiated. If we cannot transcend consciousness-if, therefore, what we know as truth must be some mental state,
or some combination of mental states; it must be possible
for us to say in what way we distinguish this state or these
states. The definition of truth must be expressible in
terms of consciousness; and, indeed, cannot otherwise be
expressed if consciousness cannot be transcended. Clearly, then, the metaphysician's first step must be to shut out
from his investigation every thing but what is subjective;
not taking for granted the existence of any thing objective
corresponding to his ideas, until he has ascertained what
property of his ideas it is which he predicates by calling
them true. Let us note the result if he does this.
The words of a proposition are the signs of certain




NAT1URF AND ELEMENTS OF A PROPOSITION.   401
states of consciousness; and the thing alleged by a proposition is the connection or disconnection of the states of
consciousness signified.  When thinking is carried on with
precision —when the mental states which we call words,
are translated into the mental states they symbolize (which
they very frequently are not)-thinking a proposition consists in the occurrence together in consciousness of the
subject and predicate.  "The bird was brown," is a proposition which implies the union in thought of a particular
attribute with a group of other attributes.  When the inquirer compares various propositions thus rendered into
states of consciousness, he finds that they differ very greatly
in respect of the facility with which the states of consciousness are connected and disconnected.  The mental
state known as brown may be united with those mental
states which make up the figure known as bird, without
appreciable effort, or may be separated from them without
appreciable effort: the bird may easily be thought of as
black, or green, or yellow. Contrariwise, such an assertion
as " The ice was hot," is one to which he finds much difficulty in making his mind respond. The elements of the
proposition cannot be put together in thought without
great resistance. Between those other states of consciousness which the word ice connotes, and the state of consciousness named cold, there is an extremely strong cohesion-a cohesion measured by the resistance to be overcome in thinking of the ice as hot. Further, he finds that
in many cases the states of consciousness grouped together
cannot be separated at all. The idea of pressure cannot
be disconnected from  the idea of something occupying
space. Motion cannot be thought of without an object
that moves being at the same time thought of. And then,
besides these connections in consciousness which remain
absolute under all circumstances, there are others which
remain absolute under special circumstances. Between




102               THE TEST OF TRUIEH.
the elements of those more vivid states of consciousness
which the inquirer distinguishes as perceptions, he finds
that there is a temporarily-indissoluble cohesion.  Though
when there arises in him that comparatively faint state of
consciousness which he calls the idea of a book, he can
easily think of the book as red, or brown, or green; yet
when he has that much stronger consciousness which he
calls seeing a book, he finds that so long as there continue
certain accompanying states of consciousness which he
calls the conditions to perception, those several states of
consciousness which make up the perception cannot be disunited-he cannot think of the book as red, or green, or
brown; but finds that, along with a certain figure, there
absolutely coheres a certain color.
Still shutting himself up within these limits, let us
suppose the inquirer to ask himself what he thinks about
these various degrees of cohesion among his states of con
sciousness-how he names them, and how he behaves
toward them.  If there comes, no matter whence, the
proposition-" The bird was brown," subject and predicate answering to these words spring up together in consciousness; and if there is no opposing proposition, he
unites the specified and implied attributes without effort,
and believes the proposition. If, however, the proposition
is-" The bird was necessarily brown," he makes an experiment like those above described, and finding that he
can separate the attribute of brownness, and can think of
the bird as green or yellow, lie does not admit that the
bird was necessarily brown. When such a proposition as
" The ice was cold" arises in him, the elements of the
thought behave as before; and so long as no test is ap
plied, the union of the consciousness of cold with the accompanying states of consciousness, seems to be of the
same nature as the union between those answering to the
words brown and bird. But should the proposition be




COIESIONS AMONG STATES OF CONSCIOUSNESS.  403
changed into-" The ice was necessarily cold," quite a different result happens from that which happened in the previous case. The ideas answering to subject and predicate
are here so coherent, that in the absence of careful examination they might pass as inseparable, and the proposition
be accepted. But suppose the proposition is deliberately
tested by trying whether ice can be thought of as not cold.
Great resistance is offered in consciousness to this. Still,
by an effort, he can imagine water to have its temperature
of congelation higher than blood heat; and can so think
of congealed water as hot instead of cold. Now the extremely strong cohesion of states of consciousness, thus
experimentally proved by the difficulty of separating them,
he finds to be what he calls a strong belief. Once more,
in response to the words-" Along with motion there is
something that moves," he represents to himself a moving
body; and, until he tries an experiment upon it, he may
suppose the elements of the representation to be united in
the same way as those of the representations instanced
above. But supposing the proposition is modified into"Along with motion there is necessarily something that
moves," the response made in thought to these words, discloses the fact that the states of consciousness called up in
this case are indissolubly connected in the way alleged.
lie discovers this by trying to conceive the negation of
the proposition-by trying to think of motion as not havillg along with it something that moves; and his inability
to conceive this negation is the obverse of his inability to
tear asunder the states of consciousness which constitute
the aflirmation. Those propositions which survive this
strain, are the propositions he distinguishes as necessary.
Whether or not he means any thing else by this word, he
evidently means that in his consciousness the connections
they predicate are, so far as he can ascertain, unalterable.
The bare fact is that he submits to them because he has




04               THE TEST OF TRUTH.
no choice. They rule his thoughts whether he will or not
Leaving out all questions concerning the origin of these
connections-all theories concerning their significations,
there remains in the inquirer the consciousness that certain
of his states of consciousness are so welded together that
all other links in the chain of consciousness yield before
these give way.
Continuing rigorously toc exclude every thing beyond
consciousness, let him now ask himself what he means by
reasoning? what is the essential nature of an argument?
what is the peculiarity of a conclusion? Analysis soon
shows him that reasoning is the formation of a coherent
series of states of consciousness. IHe has found that the
thoughts expressed by propositions, vary in the cohesions
of their subjects and predicates; and he finds that at every
step in an argument, carefully carried on, he tests the
strengths of all the connections asserted and implied. He
considers whether the object named really does belong to
the class in which it is included-tries whether he can
think of it as not like the things it is said to be like. He
considers whether the attribute alleged is really possessed
by all members of the class-tries to think of some member of the class that has not the attribute. And he ad.
mits the proposition only on finding, by this criticism, that
there is a greater degree of cohesion in thought between
its elements, than between the elements of the counterproposition. Thus testing the strength of each link in the
argument, he at length reaches the conclusion, which he
tests in the same way. If he accepts it, he does so be.
cause the argument has established in him an indirect cohesion between states of consciousness that were not di
rectly coherent, or not so coherent directly as the aigument makes them indirectly.  But he accepts it only sup.
posing that the connection between the two states of consciousnuss composing it, is not resisted by some strongei




VARYING STRENGTH OF THOUGIHT COHESIONS.   405
counter-connection.  If there happens to be an opposing
argument, of which the component thoughts are felt, when
tested, to be more coherent; or if, in the absence of an
opposing argument, there exists an opposing conclusion,
of which the elements have some direct cohesion greater
than that which the proffered argument indirectly gives;
then the conclusion reached by this argument is not admitted. Thus, a discussion in consciousness proves to be
simply a trial of strength between different connections in
consciousness-a systematized struggle serving to determine which are the least coherent states of consciousness.
And the result of the struggle is, that the least coherent
states of consciousness separate, while the most coherent
remain together-form a proposition of which the predicate persists in rising up in the mind along with its subject-constitute one of the connections in thought which
is distinguished as something known, or as something believed, according to its strength.
What corollary may the inquirer draw, or rather what
corollary must he draw, on pushing the analysis to its
limit? If there are any indissoluble connections, he is
compelled to accept them. If certain states of consciousness absolutely cohere in certain ways, he is obliged to
think them in those ways. The proposition is an identical
one. To say that they are necessities of thought is merely
another way of saying that their elements cannot be torn
asunder. No reasoning can give to these absolute cohesions in thought any better warrant; since all reasoning,
being a process of testing cohesions, is itself carried on by
accepting the absolute cohesions; and can, in the last resort, do nothing more than present some absolute cohesions in justification of others-an act which unwarrantably assumes in the absolute cohesions it offers, a greater
value than is allowed to the absolute cohesions it would
iijstify. Here, then, the inquirer comes down to an ulti.




i06              THE TEST OF TRUTH.
mate mental uniformity-a universal law of his thinking
How completely his thought is subordinated to this law,
is shown by the fact that he cannot even represent to him.
self the possibility of any other law. To suppose the connections among his states of consciousness to be otherwise
determined, is to suppose a smaller force overcoming a
greater-a proposition which may be expressed in words
but cannot be rendered into ideas. No matter what he
calls these indestructible relations, no matter what he supposes to be their meanings, he is completely fettered by
them. Their indestructibility is the proof to him that his
consciousness is imprisoned within them; and supposing
any of them  to be in some way destroyed, he perceives
that indestructibility would still be the distinctive character of the bounds that remained-the test of those which
he must continue to think.
These results the inquirer arrives at without assuming
any other existence than that of his own consciousness.
They postulate nothing about mind or matter, subject or
object.  They leave wholly untouched the questionswhat does consciousness imply? and how is thought generated?  There is not involved in the analysis any hypothesis respecting the origin of these relations between
thoughts-how there come to be feeble cohesions, strong
cohesions, and absolute cohesions. Whatever some of the
terms used may have seemed to connote, it will be found,
on examining each step, that nothing is essentially involved beyond states of mind and the connections among
them, which are themselves other states of mind. Thus
far, the argument is not vitiated by any petitio principii.
Should the inquirer enter upon the question, How are
these facts to be explained? he must consider how any
further investigation is to be conducted, and what is the
possible degree of validity of its conclusions. Remembering that he cannot transcend consciousness, he sees




HIGHEST VALIDITY OF THE TEST,           407
chat any thing in the shape of an interpretation must be
subordinate to the laws of consciousness. Every hypothes;s he entertains in trying to explain himself to himself,
being an hypothesis which can be dealt with by him only
in terms of his mental states, it follows that any process
of explanation must itself be carried on by testing the
cohesions among mental states, and accepting the absolute
cohesions. His conclusions, therefore, reached only by repeated recognitions of this test of absolute cohesion, can
never have any higher validity than this test. It matters
not what name he gives to a conclusion-whether he calls
it a belief, a theory, a fact, or a truth. These words can be
themselves only names for certain relations among his
states of consciousness. Any secondary meanings which
he ascribes to them must also be meanings expressed in
terms of consciousness, and therefore subordinate to the
laws cf consciousness. Hence he has no appeal from this
ultimate dictum; and seeing this, he sees that the only
possible further achievement is the reconciliation of the
dicta of consciousness with one another-the bringing all
other dicta of consciousness into harmony with this ultimate dictum.
Here, then, the inquirer discovers a warrant higher than.that which any argument can give, for asserting an objective existence. Mysterious as seems the consciousness of
something which is yet out of consciousness, he finds that
he alleges the reality of this something in virtue of the
ultimate law-he is obliged to think it. There is an indissoluble cohesion between each of those vivid and definite
states of consciousness which he calls a sensation, and an
indefinable consciousness which stands for a mode of being
beyond sensation, and separate from himself. When graspmg his fork and putting food into his mouth, he is wholly
unable to expel from  his mind the notion of something
18




408              THE TEST OF TRUTH.
which resists the force he is conscious of using; and he
cannot suppress the nascent thought of an independent
existence keeping apart his tongue and palate, and giving
him that sensation of taste which he is unable to generate
in consciousness by his own activity. Though self-criti
cism shows him that he cannot know what this is which
lies outside of him; and though he may infer that not being able to say what it is, it is a fiction; he discovers that
such self-criticism utterly fails to extinguish the consciousness of it as a reality. Any conclusion into which he argues himself, that there is no objective existence connected
with these subjective states, proves to be a mere verbal
conclusion to which his thoughts will not respond. The
relation survives every effort to destroy it-is proved by
experiment, repeated no matter how often, to be one of
which the negation is inconceivable; and therefore one
having supreme authority. In vain he endeavours to give
it any greater authority by reasoning; for whichever of
the two alternatives he sets out with, leaves him at the end
just where he started. If, knowing nothing more than his
own states of consciousness, he declines to acknowledge
any thing beyond consciousness until it is proved, he may
go on reasoning for ever without getting any further;
since the perpetual elaboration of states of consciousness
out of states of consciousness, can never produce any thing
more than states of consciousness. If, contrariwise, he
postulates external existence, and considers it as merely
postulated, then the whole fabric of his argument, standing upon this postulate, has no greater validity than the
postulate gives it, minus the possible invalidity of the argument itself. The case must not be confounded with
those cases in which an hypothesis, or provisional assump.
tion, is eventually proved true by its agreement with facts;
for in these cases the facts with which it is found to agree,
are facts known in some other way than through the liy




THE PRINCIPLE OF INHERITED EXPERIENCES.  409
pothesis: a calculated eclipse of the moon serves as a
verification of the hypothesis of gravitation, because its
occurrence is observable without taking for granted the
hypothesis of gravitation.  But when the external world
is postulated, and it is supposed that the validity of the
postulate may be shown by the explanation of mental phenomena which it furnishes, the vice is, that the process of
verification is itself possible only by assuming the thing to
be proved.
But now, recognizing the indissoluble cohesion between
the consciousness of self and an unknown not-self, as constituting a dictum of consciousness which he is both compelled to accept and is justified by analysis in accepting,
it is competent for the inquirer to consider whether, setting
out with this dictum, he can base on it a satisfactory explanation of what he calls knowledge. He finds such an
explanation possible.  The hypothesis that the more or less
coherent relations among his states of consciousness, are
generated by experience of the more or less constant relations in something beyond his consciousness, furnishes him
with solutions of numerous facts of consciousness: not,
however, of all, if he assumes that this adjustment of inner
to outer relations has resulted from his own experiences
alone. Nevertheless if he allows himself to suppose that
this moulding of thoughts into correspondence with things,
has been going on through all Time; and that the effects
of experiences have been inherited in the shape of modined organic structure; then he is able to interpret all the
phenomena. It becomes possible to understand how these
persistent cohesions among states of consciousness, are
themselves the products of often-repeated experiences; and
that even what are known as " forms of thought," are but
the absolute internal uniformities generated by infinite
repetitions of absolute external uniformities. It becomes
possible also to understand how, in the course of organ



f10               THE TEST OF TRUTH.
izing these multiplying and widening experiences, there
may arise partially-wrong connections in thought, answering to limited converse with things; and that these connections in thought, temporarily taken for indissoluble
ones, may afterwards be made dissoluble by presentation
of external relations at variance with them.  But even
when this occurs, it can afford no ground for questioning
the test of indissolubility; since the process by which
some connection previously accepted as indissoluble, is
broken, is simply the establishment of some antagonistic
connection, which proves, on a trial of strength, to be the
stronger-which remains indissoluble when pitted against
the other, while the other gives way. And this leaves the
test just where it was; showing only that there is a liability to error as to what are indissoluble connections. From
the very beginning, therefore, to the very end of the explanation, even down to the criticism of its conclusions and
the discovery of its errors, the validity of this test must
be postulated.  Whence it is manifest, as before said, that
the whole business of explanation can be nothing more
than that of bringing all other dicta of consciousness into
harmony with this ultimate dictum.
To the positive justification of a proposition, may be
added that negative justification which is derived from the
untenability of the counter-proposition.  When describing
the attitude of pure Empiricism, some indications that its
counter-proposition is untenable were given; but it will be
well here to state, more specifically, the fundamental objections to which it is open.
If the ultimate test of truth is not that here alleged,
then what is the ultimate test of truth?  And if there is
no ultimate test of truth, then what is the warrant for accepting certain propositions and rejecting others? An
opponent who denies the validity of this test, may legiti.




A TEST DEMANDED OF EMPIIICISM.          411
mately decline to furnish any test himself, so long as he
does not affirm any thing to be true; but if he aflirms
some things to be true and others to be not true, his warrant for doing so may fairly be demanded. Let us glance
at the possible response to the demand. If asked why he
holds it to be unquestionably true that two quantities
% hich differ in unequal degrees from a third quantity are
themselves unequal, two replies seem open to him: he may
say that this is an ultimate fact of consciousness, or that it
is an induction from personal experiences. The reply that
it is an ultimate fact of consciousness, raises the question,
How is an ultimate fact of consciousness distinguished?
All beliefs, all conclusions, all imaginations even, are facts
of consciousness; and if some are to be accepted as beyond question because ultimate, while others are not to be
accepted as beyond question because not ultimate, there
comes the inevitable inquiry respecting the test of ultimacy. On the other hand, the reply that this truth is
known only by induction from personal experiences, suggests the query, On what warrant are personal experiences asserted? The testimony of experience is given
only through memory; and its worth depends wholly on
the trustworthiness of memory. Is it, then, that the trustworthiness of memory is less open to doubt than the immediate consciousness that two quantities must be unequal
if they differ from a third quantity in unequal degrees?
This can scarcely be alleged. Memory is notoriously uncertain. We sometimes suppose ourselves to have said
things which it turns out we did not say; and we often
forget seeing things which it is proved we did see. WVe
speak of many passages of our lives as seeming like
dreams; and can vaguely imagine the whole past to be an
illusion. We can go much further toward conceiving that
our recollections do not answer to any actualities, than we
can go toward conceiving the non-existence of Space. Bu.




412               THE TEST OF TRUTH.
even supposing the deliverances of memory to be above
criticism, the most that can be said for the experiences to
which memory testifies, is that we are obliged to think we
have had them-cannot conceive the negation of the proposition that we have had them; and to say this is to assign
the warrant which is repudiated.
A further counter-criticism may be made.  Throughout
the argument of pure Empiricism, it is tacitly assumed
that there may be a Philosophy in which nothing is asserted but what is proved. It proposes to admit into the
coherent fabric of its conclusions, no conclusion that is
incapable of being established by evidence; and it thus
takes for granted that not only may all derivative truths
be proved, but also that proof may be given of the truths
from which they are derived, down to the very deepest.
The result of thus refusing to recognize some fundamental
unproved truth, is simply to leave its fabric of conclusions
without a base. The giving proof of any special proposition, is the assimilation of it to some class of propositions
known to be true. If any doubt arises respecting the general proposition which is cited in justification of this special proposition, the course is to show that this general
proposition is deducible from a proposition or propositions
of still greater generality; and if pressed for proof of
each such still more general proposition, the only resource
is to repeat the process. Is this process endless?  If so,
nothing can be proved-the whole series of propositions
depends on some unassignable proposition.  Has the process an end? If so, there must eventually be reached a
widest proposition-one which cannot be justified by showmng that it is included by any wider-one which cannot be
proved.  Or to put the argument otherwise: Every inference depends on premises; every premise, if it admits of
proof, depends on other premises; and if the proof of the
proof be continually demanded, it must either end in an




THE DILEMMA OF EMPIRICISM.            413
anproved premise, or in the acknowledglment that there
cannot be reached any premise on which the entire series
of proofs depends.  Hence Philosophy, if it does not
avowedly stand on some datum  underlying reason, must
acknowledge that it has nothing on which to stand.
The expression of divergence from Mr. Mill on this
fundamental question, I have undertaken with reluctance,
only on finding it needful, both on personal and on general
grounds, that his statements and arguments should be met.
For two reasons, especially, I regret having thus to contend against the doctrine of one whose agreement I should
value more than that of any other thinker. In the first
place, the difference is, I believe, superficial rather than
substantial; for it is in the interests of the ExperienceHypothesis that Mr. Mill opposes the alleged criterion of
truth; while it is as harmonizing with the ExperienceHypothesis, and reconciling it with all the facts, that I defend this criterion. In the second place, this lengthened
exposition of a single point of difference, unaccompanied
by an exposition of the numerous points of concurrence,
unavoidably produces an appearance of dissent very far
greater than that which exists. Mr. Mill, however, whose
unswerving allegiance to truth is on all occasions so conspicuously displayed, will fully recognize the justification
for this utterance of disagreement on a matter of such
profound importance, philosophically considered; and will
not require any apology for the entire freedom with which
I have criticised his views while seeking to substantiate
ly omwn.








INDEX.
A                    Civilized races, mixed origin of, 1581
Civilization, present phase of, 146.
Absolute morality, function of, 211, Classes, upper and lower; morality
215, 249; meaning of, 224.              and conscientiousness of, 354.
Accommodation-bills characterized, Clergy, their opposition to the repea
129.                                    of the corn laws, 356.
Adam Smith, education of, 374.         Climax, explanation of, 42.
Adaptations of private enterprise, 76. Cloths, cheating in their lengths,
Adjective, collocation of with sub-    113.
stantive, 16.                        Clothing trades, briberies and disAssociation of words and ideas, 12.       honesties in, 108.
Attention, force expended in, 39.      Commercial disasters, origin of, 133.
Commercial immoralities, root of,
142.
B                    Composition, literary, upon what it
depends, 9.
Bank of England, suspension of, 323, Concrete terms, advantage of, 15.
a monopoly, 324.                     Contractors, railway, 273.
Bankers' operations, checks upon, Convicts, treatment of transported,
347.                                   219.
Bankers, temptations of, 345.          Corporate conscience, 261.
Bank notes defined, 322.                Currency discussion, relation of the
Banking delinquencies, 127.               parties to it, 349.
Basis of a credit currency, 320.       Currency, mixed origin of, 320.
Blair, Dr., 10.                         Crises, monetary, in England, 330;
Beauty of aspect and beauty of char-   in Htamburg, 333.
acter, relation of, 149.             Crises, salutary effects of, 341.
Breeding, equilibrium of constitutions in, 16l.
Buying commercial patronage, 109.                        D
Dancing, when graceful, 314.
C                    Defoe on the corruptions of trade,
137.
alise and effect, complexity of their Desires personal, the motor of social
connection, 62.                        chances, 84.
Causes of dishonesties in trade, 139. Despotism, advantages of, 192; mis
Chancery courts, 95.                      chiefs of, 198.
Ofiaracter and expression. 149.        Despotism of trades-unions, 361.




416                              INDEX.
Directors, railway, misdoings of, 275.                 H
Dishonesty cumulative, 262.
Distrust of the validity of our be- Hero-worship, nature of, 194.
liefs, 48.                          Honesty in trade the road to bankruptcy, 125.
E                   Honor paid to wealthy rogues, 144.
Humility needed in political conduct,
50.
Ecclesiastical courts, 95,            Hybridity, 160.
Economy of the sensibilities, 40.
Economizing the reader's attention,                     I
11.
Education of the working classes, Ideal Greek head, 154.
t371.                               Institutions must grow, 76; deter
Electors, character of, 173; iltelli-   mined by popular character, 216.
gence of, 174, 181.                 Intermediate system of prison disci
Emotion, poetry the langaage of, 38.   pline 234.
English  government, work  it attempts, 182; view of, 187-191.                       J
Erroneous popular notions respecting corporate companies, 254.       Joint stock enterprises, lesson drawn
Evils produced by judicial adminis-   from, 251.
tration, 97.                        Judicial negligence, 98.
Experience, limits to the teachings Justice neglected by government, 94
of, 103.
Expression, definition of, 150.
Expression, no general theory of, 10.                  K
Extension railway, origin of the system of, 258.                        Kames, Lord, 10, 20.
Knaveries of wholesale houses, 115.
F
Facial features and natural expression, 151.                           Languae, relation of to thought
Faith in government must be out-   11   friction  of, 42.
g     srown, 106.                   Land-owners greed influences rail
Feeling should control style, 46.       way policy, 263.
Figures of speech, 27.                Law the enemy of the citizen, 97.
Forces acting in society, 63.ficiency of
Force in expression, causes of, 36.   Lawyers' railway  268.
Frauds in trade, how  introduced, Legislative  micarriaes,.
123.                                Legislative miscarriages, 58.
rec123. soia o r, 89                Legislative interference with curren
French social order, 89.                cy, bad effects of, 343.
Free-trade, 91; morality of, 112.       cy, bad effects of; 343.
ree-trade, 91  morality o,  Legislation, blind faith in, 51.
Liberty in any age a fixed quantity
378.
G                   Loyalty, use of, 195; causes of do.
dine of, 196.
Generalization of social actions, 92.
Gold, drainage of from the country,                    M
335; considered as a commodity,
337.                                Manufacturers, dishonesties of, 118.
Government attempts too much, 93; Mark system, working of, 235.
bound to enforce contracts, 297.   Material development the work of
Gracefulness, theory of, 312.           the age, 146.
Grammar, Dr. Latham on, 9.            Mechanics' institutions, management
Grocery trade, cheating in the, 115.    of, 166
Gaizot, 99.                           Mental faculties, expansion of, 41.




Mn)Ix.                                417
Mendacity of clerks, 112.                over government,'5; continental
Metaphor, use of, 30.                    dependence on, 102.
Metonymy, use of, 28.                  Prominence of jaw, meaning of, 151.
Mettray, case of, 233.                 Protecting  the individual  against
Mind and feature, relation of, 155.      himself, 55.
Mis-education, evils of, 372.          Protection, governmental, 91.
Mixed currency self-adjusting, 327.  Protuberant cheek  bones, signifiMorality, relative and absolute, 210;   cance of, 153.
of various classes, 354.             Public prudence liable to fluctuation,
Morals of trade, 107; signs of im-   321.
provement in, 148.                   Punishment, grounds of its justice,
Mutual restraint of class interests,   221-225; in what it should consist,
381.                                   225; just limits of, 226; how to fix
its duration, 242; scheme of, din
N                      tated by justice, 244; evil effeci,
of excessive, 239.
National character, how formed, 100.
R
Railroad companies paralleled with
Obermair' s experience as prison gov-   the state, 252.
ernor, 231.                          Railroad officials, character of, 260.
ernor, 231.                          Railroads, order of their appearance
Officialism, slowness of, 67; stupid- Railroads, orderof their appearance
ity of, 67; extravagance of, 68;   in England, 88.
unadaptiveness of, 69; corruption  Railway administration, essential vi.
ciousn          ess of, 256.
of1       st ienf, 71;  obst ructiveness of, 256.72.
Offspring, mixed qualiti; obstructivenes of, 157. Railway companies, dishonesties of,
Offspring, mixed qualities of, 157.      253-255.
Opinions, distrust of, 48.               25 - 5.
Order of social requirements, 85; Railway directors, how elected, 269.
government cannot judge of, 87. Railway engineers, morality of, 271.
Over-legislation, negative evils of, 93. Railway politics, morfundality of, 213.vice
Railway system, fundamental vice
of, 290.
Reform-bill, horror of, 353.
P                    Reform-bill of Lord John Russell,
377.
Paper circulation, excess of, when  Representative  government, faults
salutary, 324.                         of, 172-191; why it is the best,
Parental constitutions, traits of in    201-204; failures of, due to misap.
offspring, 158.                        plication, 204-207; when dangerPeel, Sir Robert, on the efficacy of    ous, 376.
legislation, 104.                    Representatives, acts of governed by
Philanthropy, short-sightedness of,   interest, 175; principle in choosing,
100.                                   175; naval and military officers as,
Poetic speech, in what it consists,   177; lawyers as, 179; qualifications
37.                                    of, 184.
Political education, necessity of, 374. Representative  system  in corporaPopular character determines the    tions, 251.
penal code, 216.                     Restrictions on the hours of labor,
Predicate and subject, arrangement   358.
of, 18.                              Right to coerce the criminal, basis of,
Printers Union, working of, 359.         221-225.
Prison discipline in relation to idleness, 240; to self-control, 240.                       S
Prison ethics, approved system  of,
244.                                 Salesmen, their falsehood and dupli.
Private enterprise, what it has ac-   city, 110.
complished, 54 ~ superiority  of, Saxon English, 12; brevity of, 13.




j18        -                     INEX.
Self-dependent races, progressive-                     T
nes f-icim,  491.                   Tailors, how they are cheated, 111.
Self-crihelp, natiom,  19             Taxation should be direct as the frar
Self-help, national, 101.xtended, 37.
Sensibilities, economy of, 40.          chise is extende, 37.
Sentences, arrangement of parts of,          councils, character of, 16
20; suspensions of, 23.               extravagance of, 171.
Shareholders, railway, small influ-  Trade essentiallt corrupt, 134.
ence of, 279; characters of, 283.
ence of, 279; characters of, 283.    Trade immoralities, are they growing
Sheep, mixture of French and Eng-    worse? 136; remedy for, 146.
lish races of, 158.                 Trades-unions, tyranny of, 378.
Silk-business, frauds in, 119. 
Simile, use of, 28.
Social changes, unlikely origin of, University education, estimate of,
82.                                   373.
Social science, importance of diffus- Utopianisms of the working classes,
ing a knowledge of, 375.              365.
Solitary system  increases the tendency to crime, 220. 
State agency contrasted with private  Valencia, prison of, 237.
enterprise, 77; dependent upon
private action, 79.                                 W
State enterprise, positive injuries of, 
60.                                Wealth, indiscriminate respect paid
State, failure of to perform its du-   to, 140; protest against the adoraties, 52.                            tion of, 147; the possessor of hon.
Stimulus to social action, 65.          estly acquired, respectable, 145.
Stocking weavers, distress and re-  Whately, Dr., 26, 30.
lief of, 83.                       Working  classes in  England, de.
Style, why it should be varied, 44;   mands of, 357.
direct and indirect, 24; varies with  Working classes, education of, 371.
the mind addressed, 25; employ- Words, economic use of, 12; use of
ment of figures in, 27.              long, 14; strength of Saxon, 15;
Synechdoche, use of, 27.                sequence of, 16.
THE  END.




THE SYNTHETIC PHILOSOPHY
OF
HERBERT SPENCER.
FIRST PRINCIPLES.
1 vol. $2.00.
CONTENTS.
PART I.-THE UNKNOWABLE.
1. Religion and Science.          4. The Relativity of all Knowl,
2. Ultimate Religious Ideas.           edge.
3. Ultimate Scientific Ideas.     5. The Reconciliation.
PART II.-THE KNOWABLE.
1. Philosophy defined.           13. Simple and Compound Evolu2. The Data of Philosophy.            tion.
3. Space, Time, Matter, Motion, 14. The Law of Evolution.
and Force.                   15. The Law of Evolution (con.
4. The Indestructibility of Matter.   tinued).
5. The Continuity of Motion.     16. The Law of Evolution  (con6. The Persistence of Force.           tinued).
7. The Persistence of Relations  17. The Law of Evolution (con.
among Forces.                     eluded).
8. The Transformation and Equiv.  18. The Interpretation of Evolution.
alence of Forces.            19. The Instability of the Homoge.
9. The Direction of Motion.            neous.
10. The Rhythm of Motion.         20. The Multiplication of Effects.
11. Recapitulation, Criticism, and  21. Segregation.
Recommencement.              22. Equilibration.
12. Evolution and Dissolution.    23. Dissolution.
24. Summary and Conclusion.
THE PRINCIPLES OF BIOLOGY.
2 vols. $4.00.
CONTENTS OF VOL. I.
PART I.-THE DATA OF BIOLOGY.
1. Organic Matter.               4. Proximate Definition of Life.
2. The Action of Forces on Or- 5. The  Correspondence  between
ganic Matter.                    Life and its Circumstances.
8. The Reactions of Organic Mat- 6. The Degree of Life varies as the
ter on Forces.                   Degree of Correspondence.
7. The Scope of Biology.




2             SPENCER'S SYNTHETIC  PHILOSOPHY.
PART II.-TnE INDUCTIONS OF BIOLOGY.
1. Growth.                           7. Genesis.
2. Development.                      8. Heredity.
3. Function.                         9. Variation.
4. Waste and Repair.                10. Genesis, Heredity, and Variar
5. Adaptation.                            tion.
6. Individuality.                   11. Classification.
12. Distribution.
PART III.-THE EVOLUTION OF LIFE.
1. Preliminary.                      7. The Arguments from Distribu2. General Aspects of the Special-        tion.
Creation Hypothesis.            8. How  is  Organic  Evolution
3. General Aspects of the Evolu-          caused?
tion Hypothesis.                9. External Factors.
4. The Arguments from  Classifica-  10. Internal Factors.
tion.                          11. Direct Equilibration.
6. The Arguments from  Embryol-  12. Indirect Equilibration.
ogy.                           13. The Cooperation of the Factors.
6. The Arguments from  Morphol-  14. The Convergence of the Eviogy.                                dences.
CONTENTS OF VOL. II
PART IV.-MORPHOLOGICAL DEVELOPMENT.
1. The Problems of Morphology.       9. The Shapes of Leaves.
2. The Morphological Composition  10. The Shapes of Flowers.
of Plants.                    11. The Shapes of Vegetal Cells.
3. The Morphological Composition  12. Changes of Shape  otherwise
of Plants (continued).              caused.
4. The Morphological Composition  13. Morphological Differentiation in
of Animals.                          Animals.
5. The Morphological Composition  14. The General Shapes of Animals.
of Animals (continued).        15. The Shapes of Vertebrate Skele6. Morphological Differentiation in      tons.
Plants.                       16. The Shapes of Animal Cells.
7. The General Shapes of Plants.    17. Summary of Morphological De.
8. The Shapes of Branches.           - velopment.
PART V.-PHYSIOLOGICAL DEVELOPMENT.
1. The Problems of Physiology.      6. Differentiations   between  the
2. Differentiations among the Out-        Outer and Inner Tissues of
er and Inner Tissues of Plants.     Animals.
3. Differentiations among the Out-  7. Differentiations among the Outer Tissues of Plants.               er Tissues of Animals.
4. Differentiations among the In-  8. Differentiations among the Inner Tissues of Plants.              ner Tissues of Animals.
5. Physiological  Integration   in  9. Physiological Integration in Ani.
Plants.                            mials.
10. Summary of Physiological Development.




SPENCERSS SYNTHETIC PHILOSOPHY.                      3
PART VI.-LAWS OF MULTIPLICATION.
1. The Factors.                     8. Antagonism  between Expendi2. A priori Principle.                  ture and Genesis.
3. Ob e:ss  a  i-:ri Principle.     9. Coincidence between High Nu4. Difficulties of Inductive Verifi-    trition and Genesis.
cation.                      10. Specialties  of  these  Rela5. Antagonism   between  Growth         tions.
and Asexual Genesis.         11. Interpretation  and  Qualifica6. Antagonism   between  Growth         tion.
and Sexual Genesis.          12. Multiplication of the Iuman
7. Antagonism  between  Develop-        Race.
ment and  Genesis, Asexual  13. Human Evolution in the Fuand Sexual.                        ture.
APPENDIX.
A Criticism on Professor Owen's The- On Circulation and the Formation
ory of the Vertebrate Skeleton,    of Wood in Plants.
THE PRINCIPLES OF PSYCHOLOGY.
2 vols. $4.00.
CONTENTS OF VOL. I.
PART I.-THE DATA OF PSYCHOLOGY.
1. The Nervous System.             4. The Conditions essential to Ner2. The Structure of the Nervous         vous Action.
System.                       5. Nervous Stimulation and Ner3. The Functions of the Nervous         vous Discharge.
System.                       6. _Estho-Physiology.
PART II.-TIiE INDUCTIONS OF PSYCHOLOGY.
1. The Substance of Mind.          6. The Revivability of Relations
2. The Composition of Mind.             between Feelings.
3. The Relativity of Feelings.     7. The Associability of Feelings.
4. The Relativity of Relations be-  8. The Associability of Relations
tween Feelings.                    between Feelings.
5. The Revivability of Feelings.    9. Pleasures and Pains.
PART III.-GENERAL SYNTHESIS.
1. Life and  Mind  as Correspon-   6. The Correspondence as increasdence.                            ing in Specialty.
2. The Correspondence as Direct   7. The Correspondence as increasand Homogeneous.                  ing in Generality.
3. The Correspondence as Direct  8. The Correspondence as increasbut Heterogeneous.                ing in Complexity.
4. The Correspondence as extend-  9. The Coordination of Corresponing in Space.                      dences.
5. The Correspondence as extend- 10. The Integration of Corresponing in Time.                       dences.
11. The Correspondences in their Totality.




4         SPENCERSS SYNTHETIC  PHILOSOPHY.
PART IV.-SPECIAL SYNTHESIS.
1. The Nature of Intelligence.     6. Instinct.
2. The Law of Intelligence.        6. Memory.
3. The Growth of Intelligence.     7. Reason.
4. Reflex Action.                  8. The Feelings.
9. The Will.
PART V.-PHYSICAL SYNTHESIS.
1. A Further Interpretation need-   6. Functions as related to these
ed.                                Structures.
2. The Genesis of Nerves.           7. Physical Laws as thus inter.
3. The Genesis of Simple Nervous         preted.
Systems.                       8. Evidence from  Normal Varia4. The Genesis of Compound Ner-          tions.
vous Systems.                  9. Evidence from Abnormal Va.
5. The Genesis of Doubly Com-            riations.
pound Nervous Systems.        10. Results.
APPENDIX.
On the Action of Anaesthetics and Narcotics.
CONTENTS OF VOL. If.
PART VI.-SPECIAL ANALYSIS.
1. Limitation of the Subject.     13. The Perception  of Body as
2. Compound Quantitative Reason-        presenting   Statical  Attriing.                               butes.
3. Compound Quantitative Reason-  14. The Perception of Space.
ing (continued).              15. The Perception of Time.
4. Imperfect and Simple Quantita-  16. The Perception of Motion.
tive Reasoning.               17. The  Perception  of  Resist5. Quantitative Reasoning in gen-       ance.
eral.                         18. Perception in general.
6. Perfect Qualitative Reasoning.  19. The Relations of Similarity and
7 Imperfect Qualitative Reason-        Dissimilarity.
ing.                          20. The Relations of Cointension
8. Reasoning in general.               and Non-Cointension.
9 Classification, Naming, and Rec-  21. The Relations of Coextension
ognition.                          and Non-Coextension.
10 The Perception of Special Ob- 22. The Relations of Coexistence
jects.                             and Non-Coexistence.
11. The Perception of Body as pre- 23. The Relations of Connature and
senting  Dynamical, Statico-       Non-Connature.
Dynamical, and Statical Attri-  24. The Relations of Likeness and
butes.                             Unlikeness.
12. The Perception of Body as pre- 25. The Relation of Sequence.
senting Statico-Dynamical and  26. Consciousness in general.
Statical Attributes.         27. Results.




SPENCER S SYNTHETIC PHILOSOPHY.                      5
PART VII.-GENERAL ANALYSIS.
1. The Final Question.            11. The Universal Postulate.
2. The Assumption of Metaphysi- 12. The Test of Relative Validity.
cians.                       13. Its Corollaries.
3. The Words of Metaphysicians.  14. Positive Justification of Real.
4. The Reasonings of Metaphysi-        ism.
cians.                [ism. 15. The Dynamics of Consciousness.
5. Negative Justification of Real- 16. Partial Differentiation of Sub6. The Argument from Priority.         ject and Object.
7. The Argumentfrom Simplicity.  17. Completed  Differentiation  of
8. The Argument from  Distinct-        Subject and Object.
9. A Criterion wanted.    [ness. 18. Developed Conception of the
10. Propositions qualitatively dis-     Object.
tinguished.                   19. Transfigured Realism.
PART VIII.-COROLLARIES.
1. Special Psychology.             5. Sociality and Sympathy.
2. Classification.                 6. Egoistic Sentiments.
3. Development of Conceptions.    7. Ego-Altruistic Sentiments.
4. Language of the Emotions.       8. Altruistic Sentiments.
9. iEsthetic Sentiments.
THE PRINCIPLES OF SOCIOLOGY.
Vol. I. $2.00.
CONTENTS.
PART I.-THE DATA OF SOCIOLOGY.
1. Super-Organic Evolution.       15. The Ideas of Another World.
2. The Factors of Social Phenom- 16. The  Ideas  of  Supernatural
ena.                               Agents.
3. Original External Factors.     17. Supernatural Agents as causing
4. Original Internal Factors.          Epilepsy and Convulsive Ac5. The Primitive Man-Physical.         tions, Delirium  and Insanity.
6. The Primitive Man-Emotional.        Disease and Death.
7. The Primitive Man-Intellect- 18. Inspiration, Divination, Exorual.                               cism, and Sorcery.
8. Primitive Ideas.               19. Sacred  Places, Temples, and
9. The Ideas of the Animate and        Altars; Sacrifice, Fasting, and
the Inanimate.                     Propitiation; Praise, Prayer.
10. The Ideas of Sleep and Dreams. 20. Ancestor-Worship in general.
11. The Ideas of Swoon, Apoplexy, 21. Idol-Worship and Fetich-WorCatalepsy, Ecstasy, and other      ship.
Forms of Insensibility.      22. Animal-Worship.
12. The Ideas of Death and Resur- 23. Plant-Worship.
rection.'    24. Nature-Worship.
13. The Ideas of Souls, Ghosts, 25. Deities.
Spirits, Demons.             26. The Primitive Theory of Things
14. The Ideas of Another Life.     27. The Scope of Sociology.




6             SPENCER'S SYNTHETIC  PHILOSOPHY.
PART II.-THE INDUCTIONS OF SOCIOLOGY.
1. What is a Society?                7. The Sustaining System.
2. A Society is an Organism.         8. The Distributing System.
3. Social Growth.                     9. The Regulating System.
4. Social Structures.               10. Social Types and Constitutiona
5. Social Functions.                11. Social Metamorphoses.
6. Systems of Organs.               12. Qualifications and Summary.
PART III.-THE DOMESTIC RELATIONS.
1. The Maintenance of Species.       6. Polyandry.
2. The Diverse  Interests of the   7. Polygyny.
Species, of the Parents, and   8. Monogamy.
of the Offspring.               9. The Family.
3. Primitive Relations of the Sexes.  10. The Status of Women.
4. Exogamy and Endogamy.            11. The Status of Children.
5. Promiscuity.                     12. Domestic Retrospect and Pros
pect.
Vol. II.
PAnT IV.-CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.  $1.25.
CONTENTS.
1. Ceremony in general.               7. Forms of Address.
2. Trophies.                          8. Titles.
3. Mutilations.                       9. Badges and Costumes.
4. Presents.                         10. Further Class-Distinctions.
5. Visits.                          11. Fashion.
6. Obeisances.                       12. Ceremonial  Retrospect  and
Prospect.
Vol. II.
PART V.-POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.  $1.50.
CONTENTS.
1. Preliminary.                     10. Ministries.
2. Political Organization  in gen-  11. Local Governing Agencies.
eral.                          12. Military Systems.
3. Political Integration.           13. Judicial and Executive Systems.
4. Political Differentiation.        14. Laws.
5. Political Forms and Forces.      15. Property.
6. Political Heads-Chiefs, Kinds,  16. Revenue.
etc.                           17. The Militant Type of Society.
7. Compound Political Heads.        18. The Industrial Type of Society.
8. Consultative Bodies.              19. Political Retrospect and Pros.
9. Representative Bodies.                 pect.
PARTS IV AND V IN ONE VOLUME.
Cloth, $2.00.




SPENCER'S SYNTHETIC PHILOSOPHY.                        7
Vol. II.
PART VI.-ECCLESIASTIC INSTITUTIONS.  $1.25.
CONTENTS.
1. The Religious Idea.              10. The  Military  Functions  of
2. Medicine-Men and Priests.               Priests.
3. Priestly Duties of Descendants.  11. The Civil Functions of Priests.
4. Eldest  Male  Descendants  as  12. Church and State.
Quasi-Priests.                 13. Nonconformity.
5. The Ruler as Priest.             14. The Moral Influences of Priest6. The Rise of a Priesthood.               hoods.
7. Polytheistic  and  Monotheistic  15. Ecclesiastical Retrospect and
Priesthoods.                          Prospect.
S. Ecclesiastical Hierarchies.      16. Religious Retrospect and ProsU. An Ecclesiastical System  as a          pect.
Social Bond.
PART VII.-PROFESSIONAL INSTITUTIONS. )
In preparation.
PART VIII.-INDUSTRIAL INSTITUTIONS. )
Vol. III. —1I  preparation.
THE PRINCIPLES OF MORALITY.
Vol. 1.
PART I.-TIIE DATA OF ETIICS.  $1.25.
CONTENTS.
1. Conduct in general.              10. The Relativity of Pains and
2. The Evolution of Conduct.               Pleasures.
3. Good and Bad Conduct.            11. Egoism versus Altruism.
4. Ways of judging Conduct.         12. Altruism versus Egoism.
5. The Physical View.               13. Trial and Compromise.
6. The Biological View.             14. Conciliation.
7. The Psychological View.          15. Absolute Ethics and Reiative
8. The Sociological View.                  Ethics.
9. Criticisms and Explanations.     16. The Scope of Ethics.
PART II.-In preparation.
Vol. II. —I  preparation.
"Mr. Spencer is one of the most vigorous as well as boldest thinkers
that English speculation has yet produced."-JOHN STUART MILL.
New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street.




THE MISCELLANEOUS WORKS
OF
HERBERT SPENCER,
EDUCATION:
INTELLECTUAL, MORAL, AND PHYSICAL.
1 vol., $1.25.  Cheap edition, paper, 50 cents.
CONTENTS.
1. What Knowledge is of most  2. Intellectual Education.
Worth?                      3. Moral Education.
4. Physical Education.
SOCIAL STATICS;
OR,
THE CONDITIONS ESSENTIAL TO HUMAN  HAPPINESS SPECI.
FIED, AND  THE FIRST OF THEM  DEVELOPED.
1 vol. $2.00.
CONTENTS.
INTRODUCTION.
The Doctrine of Expediency. Lemma.'
The Doctrine of the Moral Sense. Lemma I.
PART I.
1. Definition of Morality.        3. The Divine Idea, and the Con,
2. The Evanescence of Evil.             ditions of its Realization.
PART II.
4. Derivation of a First Principle.   10. The Right of Property.
5. Secondary Derivation of a First 11. The Right of Property in Ideas.
Principle.                   12. The Right of Property in Char.
6. First Principle.       [ciple.       acter.
7. Application of this First Prin- 13. The Right of Exchange.
8. The Rights of Life and Per-  14. The Right of Free Speech.
sonal Liberty.               15. Further Rights.
9. The Right to the Use of the  16. The Rights of Women.
Earth.                       17. The Rights of Children.




SPENCER'S MISCELLANEOUS WORKS.                       9
PART III.
18. Political Rights.              24. Religious Establishment.
19. The Right to ignore the State.  25. Poor-Laws.
20. The Constitution of the State.   26. National Education.
21. The Duty of the State.         27. Government Colonization.
22. The Limit of State-Duty.       28. Sanitary Supervision.    [etc.
23. The Regulation of Commerce.   29. Currency, Postal Arrangements,
PART IV.
30. General Considerations.        31. Summary.
32. Conclusion.
THE STUDY OF SOCIOLOGY.
1 vol. $1.50.
CONTENTS.
1. Our Need of it.                  8. The Educational Bias.
2. Is there a Social Science?      9. The Bias of Patriotism.
3. Nature of the Social Science.   10. The Class-Bias.
4. Difficulties of the Social Science. 11. The Political Bias.
5. Objective Difficulties.         12. The Theological Bias.
6. Subjective  Difficulties - Intel-  13. Discipline.
lectual.                     14. Preparation in Biology.
7. Subjective  Difficulties - Emo-  15. Preparation in Psychology.
tional.                       16. Conclusion.
ILLUSTRATIONS OF UNIVERSAL PROG-.
RESS.
1 vol. $2.00.
CONTENTS.
1. Progress: its Law and Cause.     8. Illogical Geology.
2. Manners and Fashion.             9. Development Hypothesis.
3. The Genesis of Science.         10. The Social Organism.
4. The Physiology of Laughter.     11. Use and Beauty.
5. The Origin and Function of Mu- 12. The Sources of Architectural
6. The Nebular Hypothesis.  [sic.       Types.
7. Bain on the Emotions and the  13. The  Use  of  Anthropomor.
Will.                              phism.
ESSAYS 
MORAL, POLITICAL, AND AESTHETIC.
1 vol. $2.00.
CONTENTS.
1. The Philosophy of Style.        3. The Morals of Trade.
2. Our Legislation.                4. Personal Beauty.




10           SPENCER'S MISCELLANEOUS WORKS.
5. Representative Government.      9. State Tamperings with Money
6. Prison Ethics.                       and Banks.
7. Railway Morals and  Railway  10. Parliamentary  Reforms: the
Policies.                           Dangers and the Safeguards.
8. Gracefulness.                   11. Mill versus Ilamilton-the Test
of Truth.
RECENT DISCUSSIONS
IN SCIENCE, PHILOSOPHY, AND MORALS. 1 vol. $2.00.
CONTENTS.
1. Morals and Moral Sentiments.     6. Of Laws in general and the Or2. Origin of Animal-Worship.            der of their Discovery.
3. The Classification of the Sci-  7. The Genesis of Science.
ences.                         8. Specialized Administrations.
4. Postscript: Replying to Criti-  9. What is Electricity?
cisms.                        10. The Constitution of the Sun.
5. Reasons for dissenting from the  11. The Collective Wisdom.
Philosophy of Comte.          12. Political Fetichism.
13. Mr. Martineau on Evolution.
THE MAN versus THE STATE.
REPRINTED FROM " THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY," WITH A POSTSCRIPT.
Small 8vo. Paper, 30 cents.
THE FACTORS OF ORGANIC EVOLUTION.
REPRINTED, WITH ADDITIONS, FROM "THE NINETEENTH CENTURY" AND
"THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY."  12mo. Cloth, 75 cents.
PHILOSOPHY OF STYLE.
12mo. Cloth, 50 cents.
New York: D. APPLETON  & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street.




Herbert Spencer's Synthetic Philosophy.
(1.)-FIRST  PRINCIPLES.
Part 1. The Unknowable.               I Part II. The Knowable.
1 vol., 12mo, $2.00.
(2.)-THE PRINCIPLES OF BIOLOGY.
Vol. I.                               Vol. II.
Part  I. The Data of Biology.           Part IV. Morphological Development.
II. The Inductions of Biology.     "  V. Physiological Development.
"  III. The Evolution of Life.         "  VI. Laws of Multiplication.
2 vols., 12mo, $4.00.
(3.)-THE PRINCIPLES OF PSYCHOLOGY.
Vol. I.                               Vol. II.
Part  I. The Data of Psychology.       Part  V. Physical Synthesis.
"   II. TheInductions of Psychology.       VI. Special Analysis.
III. General Synthesis.              "  VII. General Analysis.
e  IV. Special Synthesis.              "VIII. Corollaries.
2 vols., 12mo, $4.00.
(4.)-THE PRINCIPLES OF SOCIOLOGY.
Vol. I. $2.00.                            Vol. II.
Part  I. The Data of Sociology.        Part IV. Ceremonial Institutions, $1.25
"   I. The Inductions of Sociology.  Part V. Political Institutions.... 1.50' III. The Domestic Relations.       Parts IV and V in'one vol,, cloth.. 2.00
Part VI. EcclesiasticalInstitutions 1.25
Parts VII and VIII.-In preparation.
Vol. III. 12mo. In preparation.
(5.)-THE PRINCIPLES OF MORALITY.
Vol. I.                                Vol. II.
Part 1. The Data of Ethics.......$1.25           In preparation.
Cheap edition, paper....  50
II I In preparation.
New York: D. APPLETON  & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street.




Herbert Spencer's Miscellaneous Works,
THE FACTORS OF ORGANIC EVOLUTION.
Reprinted, with Additions, from " The Nineteenth Century " and "The Popular
Science Monthly." 12mo. Cloth, 75 cents.
THE MAN versus THE STATE:
Containing "THE NEW TORYISM," "THE COMIING SLAVERY," "THE SINS OP
LEGISLATORS," and " THE GREAT POLITICAL SUPERSTITION."  Reprinted
from " The Popular Science Monthly," with a Postscript. Small 8vo. Paper,
30 cents.
SOCIAL STATICS;
Or, the Conditions essential to Human Happiness Specified, and the First of
Them Developed. With a Notice of the Author. 12mo. Cloth, $2.00.
ILLUSTRATIONS OF UNIVERSAL
PROGRESS.
12mo. Cloth, $2.00.
"Those who have read the work on Education will remember the analytic
tendency of the author's mind-his clear perception and admirable exposition of
first principles-his wide grasp of facts-his lucid and vigorous style, and the
constant and controlling bearing of the discussion on practical results. These
traits characterize all Mr. Spencer's writings, and mark in an eminent degree
the present volume."-N. Y. Tribune.
ESSAYS: Moral, Political, and iEsthetic.
12mo. Cloth, $2.C0,
THE STUDY OF SOCIOLOGY.
13mo. Cloth, $1.50.
RECENT DISCUSSIONS IN SCIENCE, PHILOSOPHY, AND MORALS.
12mo. Cloth, $2,00.
EDUCATION: Intellectual, Moral, and Physical.
12mo. Cloth, $1.25; cheap edition, paper, 50 cents.
PHILOSOPHY OF STYLE.
12mo. Flexible cloth, 50 cents.
1or sale by all booksellers; or sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price.
New York: D. APPLETON  & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street.