' See pamphlets on the Mark System of Discipline.
The fact that, during civilizatioii, hero -worship and moral sense vary inversely, is simply the obverse of the fact already hinted, that society is possible so long only as they continue to do this. Where there is insufficient reverence for the Divine Law, there must be supplementary reverence for human law; otherwise there will be complete lawlessness or barbarism. Evidently, if men are to live together, the absence of internal power to rule themselves rightly towards each other, necessitates the presence of external power to enforce such behaviour as may mate association tolerable; and this power can become operative only by being held in awe. So that wild races deficient in the allegiance-producing sentiment cannot enter into a civilized state at aU.; but have to be supplanted by others that can. And it must further follow, that if in any community loyalty diminishes at a greater rate than equity increases, there will arise a tendency towards social dissolution— a tendency which the populace of Paris threaten to illustrate.
How needful the continuance of a savage selfishness renders the continuance of a proportionate amount of power-worship, may be perceived daily. Listen to the chattings of men about their afifairs; examine into trade practices; read over business correspondence; or get a solicitor to detail his conversations with clients: — you will find that in most cases conduct depends, not upon what is right, but upon what is legal. Provided they "keep o' the windy side of the law," the great majority are but httle restrained by regard for strict rectitude. The question with your every-day man of the world is, not— May the claimant justly require thus much of me? but rather — "Is it so nominated in the bond? " If " an action will he," such an one will commonly enough take proceedings to obtain what he knows himself not equitably entitled to; and if " the law allows it|pnd the court awai'ds it," will pocket aU he can get without scruple.
When we find doings like these regai-ded as matters of course, and those guilty of them passing for respectable men — when we thus find that so many will deal fairly by their fellows only on compulsion — we discover how requisite is tlie sentiment fi-om which the compelling insti'umentahty derives its power.
Without doubt this sentiment has begotten many gigantic evils, some of which it still nurtures. The various superstitions that have prevailed, and that still prevail, as to the great things legislatures can do, and the disastrous meddlings growing out of these superstitions, are due to it. The veneration which produces submission to a government, unavoidably invests that government with proportionately high attributes; for being in essence a worship of power, it can be strongly drawn out towards that only which either has great power, or is believed to have it. Hence, the old delusions that rulers can fix the value of money, the rate of wages, and the price of food. Hence, the still current fallacies about mitigating distress, easing monetary pressures, and cming over-population by law. Hence, also, the monstrous, though generally-received doctiine, that a legislature may equitably take people's property to such extent, and for such purposes, as it thinks fit — for maintaining state-chm'ches, feeding paupers, paying schoolmasters, founding colonies, &c. And hence, lastly, the astounding belief that an act of parliament can abrogate one of Nature's decrees — can, for instance, render it criminal in a trader to buy goods in France, and bring them here to sell, wliilst the moral law saj's it is criminal to prevent him! As though conduct could be made right or wi-ong by the votes of some men sitting in a room in Westminster!
Yet, in spite of all this — in spite of the false theories and mischievous interferences, the numberless oppressions, disasters, and miseries, in one way or other traceable to it, we must admit that this power-worsliip has fulfilled, and does sdll fulfil, ^\5|?y ™Portant function, and that it may advantageously last as long as it can.
That it cannot last longer than needfal may be readily proved. In a way equally simple and perfect it is made to decUne as fast as it can be done ■without. The very feeUng, during whose minority it exercises regency over men, becomes the destroyer of its power. Between the temporary ruler and the ultimate rightful one, there is an unceasing conflict, in which the wane of influence on the one side is necessitated by its growth on the other.
For, as already shown (p. 97), the sense of rights, by whose sympathetic excitement men are led to behave justly towards each other, is the same sense of rights by which they are prompted to assert their own claims — their own liberty of action — their own freedom to exercise their faculties, and to resist every encroachment. This impulse brooks no restraint, save that imposed by fellow feeUng; and disputes all assumption of extra privilege by whomsoever made. Consequently, it is in perpetual antagonism with a sentiment which dehghts in subserviency. " Eeverence this authority," suggests power-worship. " Why should I? who set it over me? " demands instinct of freedom. " Obey," whispers the one. " Rebel," mutters the other. " I will do what your Highness bids," says the one with bated breath. "Pray, sir," shouts the other, "who are you, that you should dictate to me?" "This man is Divinely appointed to iTile over us, and we ought therefore to submit," argues the one. " I tell you, no," repUes the other; " we have Divinely-endorsed claims to freedom, and it is our duty to maintain them." And thus the controversy goes on: conduct during each phase of civihzation being determined by the relative strengths of the two feelings. Whilst yet too feeble to be operative as a social restraint, moral sense, by its scai'celyheard protest, does not hinder a predominant hero-worship from giving possibility to the most stringent despotism. Gradually, as it grows strong enough to deter men fi'om the grosser trespasses upon each other, does it also grow strong enough to Struggle successfiilly against that excess of coercion no longer required. And when it shall finally have attained sufficient power to give men, by its reflex function, so perfect a regard for each other's rights as to make government needless; then will it also, by its direct function, give men so wakeful a jealousy of their own rights as to make government impossible. A further example, this, of the admirable simplicity of nature. The same sentiment which fits us for freedom, itself makes us fi-ee.
Of course the institutions of any given age exliibit the compromise made by these contending moral forces at the signing of their last truce. Between the state of unlimited government arising from supremacy of the one feeling, and the state of no government arising from supremacy of the other, lie intermediate forms of social organization, beginning with " despotism tempered by assassination," and ending with that highest development of the representative system, under which the right of constituents to instruct their delegates is fully admitted — a system wliich, by making the nation at large a dehberative body, and reducing the legislative assembly to an executive, carries self-government to the fullest extent compatible with the existence of a ruling power. Of necessity the mixed constitutions that characterize tliis transition period, are in the abstract absurd. The two feeUngs answering to the popular and monarchical elements, being antagonistic, give utterance to antagonistic ideas. And to suppose that these can be consistently united, is to suppose that yes and no can be reconciled. The monarchical theoi7 is, that the people are in duty bound to submit themselves with all humility to a certain individual ought to be loyal to him— ought to give allegiance to him, that is ought to subordinate their wills to his will. Contrariwise the democratic theory — either as specifically defined, or as embodied in our own constitution under the form of a power to withhold supplies and in the legal fiction that the citizen assents to the laws he has to obey — is, that the people ought not to be subject to the will of one, but should fulfil their own wills.
Now these ■ are flat contradictions, ■which no reasoning can harmonize. If a king may rightfully claim obedience, then should that obedience be entire; else there starts up the unanswerable question — why must we obey in this and not in that? But if men should mainly rule themselves, then should they rule themselves altogether. Otherwise it may be asked — why are they their own masters in such and such cases, and not in the rest?
Nevertheless, though these mixed governments, combining as they do two mutually-destructive hypotheses, are utterly irrational in principle, they must of necessity exist, so long as they are in harmony with the mixed constitution of the partially-adapted man. And it seems that the radical incongruity pervading them cannot be recognized by men, whilst there exists a corresponding incongruity in their own natures: -a good illustration of the law that opinion is ultimately determined by the feelings, and not by the intellect.
How completely, indeed, conceptions of right and wrong in these matters depend upon the balance of impulses existing in men, may be worth considering a moment. And first, observe that no tracing out of actions to their final good or bad consequences, is, by itself, capable of generating approbation, or reprobation, of those actions. Could it do this, men's moral codes would be high or low, according as they made these analyses well or ill, that is — according to their intellectual acuteness. Whence it would follow, that in all ages and nations, men of equal intelhgence should have hke etliical theories, ■whilst contemporaries should have unlike ones, if their reflective powers are unhke. But facts do not answer to these inferences.
On the contrary, they point to the law above specified. Both history and daily experience prove to us that men's ideas of rectitude correspond to the sentiments and instincts predominating in them (pp. 25, 159, 350). We constantly read of tyrants defending their claims to nnlimited sway as being Divinely authorized. The rights of rival princes were of old asserted by their respective partisans, and are still asserted by modern legitimists, with the same warmth that the most ardent democrat asserts the rights of man. To those living in the feudal times, so unquestionable seemed the duty of serfs to obey their lords, tliat Luther (no doubt acting conscientiously) urged the barons to vengeance on the rebellious peasants, calling on all who could " to stab them, cut them down, and dash their brains out, as if they were mad dogs." Moreover, we shall find, that absence of the ethical sentiment completely disables the mind from realizing the abstract title of the human being to freedom. Thus, with all his high reasoning powers, Plato could conceive of nothing better for his ideal repubHc than a system of class despotism; and, indeed, up to his time, and long after it, there seems to have existed no man who saw anything wrong in slavery.
It is narrated of Colonel D'Oyley, the first governor of Jamaica, that within a few days after having issued an order " for the distribution to the army of 1701 Bibles," he signed another order for the " payment of the summe of twenty pounds sterUng, out of the impost money, to pay for fifteen doggs, brought by John Hoy, for the hunting of the negroes." The holding of slaves by ministers of religion in America is a parallel fact. We read that the Chinese cannot understand why European women are treated with respect; and that they attribute the circumstance to the exercise of demoniacal arts by them over the men. Here and there amongst ourselves, analogous phenomena may be detected. For example. Dr. Moberly, of Winchester College, has written a book to defend fagging, which he says, as a system of school-government, gives " more security of essential deep-seated goodness than any other which can be devised." Again, in a recent pamphlet, signed " A Country Pai-son," it is maintained, that "you must convert the Chartist spirit as you would reform the drunkard's spuit, by shoAving that it is a rebeUion agaiust the laws of God." But the strangest peculiarity exhibited by those deficient in sense of rights or rather that which looks the strangest to us — is their inahihty to recognize their own claims. We are told, for instance, hy Lieutenant Bernard", that in the Portuguese settlements on the African coast, the free negroes are " taunted hy the slaves as having no -white man to look after them, and see them righted when oppressed;" and it is said that in America the slaves themselves look down upon the fr-ee blacks, and call them ruhhish. Which anomalous-looking facts are, however, easily conceivahle when we remember that here in England, in tliis nineteenth century, most women defend that state of servitude in which they are held by men.
To account, by any current hypothesis, for the numberless disagreements in men's ideas of right and wrong here briefly exemplified, seems scarcely possible. But on the theory that opinion is a resultant of moral forces, whose equilibrium varies with every race and epoch — that is, with every phase of adaptation— the rationale is self-evident. Nor, indeed, considering the matter closely, does it appear that society could ever hold together were not opinion thus dependent upon the balance of feehngs. For were it otherwise, races yet needing coercive government might reason their way to the conclusion that coercive government was bad, as readily as more advanced races. The Russians might see despotism to be wrong, and fr-ee institutions to be right, as clearly as we do. And did they see this, social dissolution would ensue; for it is not conceivable that they would any longer remain contented. under that stringent rule needed to keep them in the social state.
The process by which a change of political arrangements is effected, when the incongruity between them and the popular character becomes suf&cient, must be itself in keeping with that character, and must be violent or peaceful accordingly. There are not a few who exclaim against all revolutions wrought out by force of arms, forgetting that the quality of a revolution, like that of an institution, is determined by the natures of those who make it. Moral suasion is very admirable; good for us; good, indeed, for all who can be induced to use it. But to suppose that, in the earUer stages of social growth, moral suasion can be employed, or, if employed, would answer, is to overlook the conditions. Stating the case mechanically, we may say that as, in proportion to their unfitness for associated Hfe, the framework within which men are restrained must be strong, so must the efforts required to break up that framework, when it is no longer fit, be convulsive. The existence of a government which does not bend to the popular will — a despotic government — presupposes several circumstances which make any change but a violent one impossible. First, for coercive rule to have been practicable, implies in the people a predominance of that awe of power ever indicative of still hngering savageness.
Moreover, with a large amount of power-worship present, disaffection can take place only when the cumulative evils of misgovernment have generated great exasperation. Add to which, that as abundance of the sentiment upholding external rule, involves lack of the sentiments producing internal rule, no such check to excesses as that afforded by a due regard for the lives and claims of others, can be operative. And where there are comparatively active destructive propensities, extreme anger, and deficient self-restraint, violence is inevitable. Peaceful revolutions occur under quite different circumstances. They become possible only when society, no longer consisting of members so antagonistic, begins to cohere from its own internal organization, and needs not be kept together by rmyielding external restraints; and when, by consequence, the force required to effect change is less. They become possible only when men, having acquired greater adaptation to the social state, will neither inflict on each other, nor submit to, such extreme oppressions, and when, therefore, the causes of popular indignation are diminished. They become possible only when character has grown more sympathetic, and when, as a result of this, the tendency towards angry retaliation is partially neutralized. Indeed, the very idea that reforms may and ought to be effected peacefully impUes a large endowment of the moral sense. Without this, such an idea cannot even be conceived, much less carried out; with this, it may be both.
Hence, we must look upon social convulsions as upon other natural phenomena, which work themselves out in a certain inevitable, unalterable way. We may lament the bloodshed — may wish it had been avoided; but it is folly to suppose that, the popular character remaining the same, things could have been managed differently. If such and such events had not occurred, say you, the result would have been otherwise; if this or that man had hved, he would have prevented the catastrophe. Do not be thus deceived. These changes are brought about by a power far above individual wills. Men who seem the prime movers, are merely the tools with which it works; and were they absent, it would quickly find others. Incongruity between character and institutions is the disturbing force, and a revolution is the act of restoring equilibrium. Accidental circumstances modify the process, but do not perceptibly alter the effect. They precipitate; they retard; they intensify or ameliorate; but, let a few years elapse, and the same end is arrived at, no matter what the special events passed through.
That these violent overtumings of early institutions fail to do what their originators hope, and that they finally result in the setting up of institutions not much better than those superseded, is very true (p. 244). But it is not the less time that the modifications they effect can be effected in no other way. Non-adaptation necessitates a bad mode of making changes, as well as a bad political organization. Not only must the habitual rule it calls for be severe, but even small ameUorations of this cannot be obtained without much- suffering. Conversely, the same causes which render a better social state possible, render the successive modifications of it easier.
F F These occur under less pressure; with smaller disturbance; and more frequently: until, by a gradual diminution in the amounts and intervals of change, the process merges into one of uninterrupted growth.
There is another form under which civilization can be generalized. We may consider it as a progress towards that constitution of man and society required for the complete manifestation of every one's individuality. To be that which he naturally is — to do just what he would spontaneously do — is essential to the full happiness of each, and therefore to the greatest happiness of all. Hence, in virtue of the law of adaptation, our advance must be towards a state in which this entke satisfaction of every desire, or perfect fulfilment of individual Hfe, becomes possible. In the beginning it is impossible. If imcontrolled, the impulses of the aboriginal man produce anarchy. Either his individuality must be curbed, or society must dissolve. With ourselves, though restraint is still needful, the private wiU of the citizen, not being so destructive of order, has more play. And further progress must be towards increased sacredness of personal claims, and a subordination of whatever limits them.
There are plenty of facts illustrating the doctrine that under primitive governments the repression of individuality is greatest, and that it becomes less as we advance. Eeferring to the people of Egypt, Assyria, China, and Hindostan, as contrasted with those of Greece, Mr. Grote says, "The religious and political sanction, sometimes combined and sometimes separate, determined for every one his mode of life, his creed, his duties, and his place in society, without leaving any scope for the wiU or reason of the individual himself." The ownership of people by rulers, from its pure form under Darius, through its various modifications down to the time of " L'etat c'est mbi " and as even still typified amongst oui-selves in the expression, " my subjects," must be considered as a greater or less merging of many individualities into one. The parallel relationships of slaves or serfs to their master, and of the family to its head, have implied the same thing. In short, all despotisms, whether political or religious, whether of sex, of caste, or of custom, may be generalized as limitations of individuality, which it is in the nature of civilization to remove.
Of course, in advancing from the one extreme, in which the state is everything and the individual nothing, to the other extreme, in which the individual is everything and the state nothing, society must pass through many intermediate phases.
Aristocracy and democracy are not, as they have been called, separate and conflicting principles; but they and their various mixtures with each other and with monarchy mark the stages in this progress towards complete individuaUty. Nor is it only by amelioration of goverimiental forms that the growth of private claims as opposed to pubUc ones is shown. It is shown, too, by the alteration in voluntary unions — in pohtical parties, for instance; the manifest tendency of which is towards dissolution, by internal divisions, by diminution of power over their members, by increasing heterogeneity of opinion; that is — by the spread of a personal independence fatal to them. Still better do the changes in religious organizations illustrate this law. That multiplication of sects which has been going on in these latter times with increasing rapidity, and which is now so abundantly exemplified by the severing of the Estabhshment into Evangelical, High Church, and Puseyite; again, by the Free Church secession; again, by the schism of the Methodists; again, by Unitarian differences; again, by the splittingoff of numberless local congregations not to be classed; and, again, by the preaching that identity of opinion should not be the bond' of union — the universal tendency to separate thus exhibited, is simply one of the ways in which a growing assertion of individuaUty comes out. Ultimately, by continual subdivision, what we call sects will disappear; and in place of 43G GENERAL CONSIDERATIONS.
that artificial unifonnity, obtained by stamping men after an authorized pattern, there -will arise one of nature's uniformities — a general similarity, ■with infimtesimal differences.
From the point of view now arrived at, we may discern how what is termed in our artificial classifications of truth, morality, is essentially one with physical truth — is, in fact, a species of transcendental physiology. That condition of things dictated by the law of equal freedom — that condition in which the individuality of each may be unfolded without limit, save the like individualities of others — that condition towards which, as we have just seen, mankind are progressing, is a condition towards which the whole creation tends. Already it has been incidentally pointed out that only by entire fulfilment of the moral law can life become complete (p. 195); and now we shaU find that all life whatever may be defined as a quality, of which aptitude to fulfil this law is the highest manifestation.
A theory of life developed by Coleridge has prepared the way for this generalization. " By life," says he, " I everywhere mean the true idea of Hfe, or that most general form under which life manifests itself to us, which includes all other forms. This I have stated to be the tendency to individuation; and the degrees or intensities of life to consist in the progressive realizations of this tendency." To make this definition inteUigible, a few of the facts sought to be expressed by it must be specified — facts exemplifying the contrast between low and high types of structure, and low and high degrees of vitality.
Eestricting our illustrations to the animal kingdom, and beginning where the vital attributes axe most obscure, we find, for instance, in the genus Porifera, creatures consisting of nothing but amorphous semi-fluid jelly, supported upon homy fibres (sponge). This jelly possesses no sensitiveness, has no organs, absorbs nutriment from the water which permeates its mass, and, if cut in pieces, lives on, in each part, as before: So that this " gelatinous film," as it has been called, shows little more individuality than a formless lump of inanimate matter; for, like that, it possesses no diistinction of parts, and, Uke that also, has no greater completeness than the pieces it is divided into. In the compound polyps which stand next, and with which Coleridge commences, the progress towards individuality is manifest; for there is now distinction of parts. To the originally uniform gelatinous mass with canals running through it, we have superadded, in the Alcyonidm, a number of digestive sacks, with accompanying mouths and tentacles. Here is, evidently, a partial segregation into individualities — a progress towards separateness. There is still complete community of nutrition; whilst each polyp has a certain independent sensitiveness and contractility. From this stage onwards, there appear to be several routes; one through the Corallida, in which the polyp-bearing mass surrounds a calcareous axis, up to the Tubiporidie, in which the polyps, no longer united, inhabit separate cells, seated in a common calcareous framework. But Coleridge has overlooked the remarkable mode in which these communist polyps are linked with higher individual organisms by the transitional arrangement seen in the common Hydrw, or fresh-water polyps of our ponds. These creatures (which are in structure similar to the separate members of the compound animal above described), multiply by gemmation, that is, by the budding out of young ones from the body of the parent.
" During the first period of the formation of these sprouts, they are evidently continuous with the general substance from which they arise; and even when considerably perfected, and possessed of an internal cavity and tentacula, their stomachs freely communicate with that of their parent As soon as the newly-formed hydra is capable of catching prey, it begins to contribute to the support of its parent; the food which it captures passing through the aperture at its base into the body of the original polyp. At length, when the young is fully formed, and ripe for independent existence, the point of union between the two becomes more and more slender, until a slight effort on the part of either is sufficient to detach them, and the process is completed Sometimes six or seven gemmae have heen observed to sprout at once from the same hydra; and although the whole process is concluded in twenty-four hours, not unfrequently a third generation may be observed springing from the newly-formed polyps even before their separation from their parent; eighteen have in this manner been seen united into one group." ^ Now here is a creature which cannot strictly be called either simple or compound. Nominally, it is an individual; practically, it never is so. In the alcyonide polyp many individuals are permanently united together: in this genus they are temporarily united, in so far as particular individuals are concerned, but otherwise permanently so; for there is always a group, though that group keeps changing its members. Indeed, may we not say that the "tendency to individuation" is here most visible; seeing that the HydrtB are, as it were, perpetually striving to become individuals, without succeeding? And may we not further say that in the gradually-decreasing recurrence of this budding, and the simultaneous appearance of a higher method of reproduction by ova (which in the Bryozoa co-exists with a comparatively languid gemmation), this " tendency to individuation" is still farther manifested?