the lesson. The constitution of this company, like that of companies in general, was purely democratic. The proprietors elected their directors, the directors their chairman; and there were special provisions for restraining directors and replacing them when needful. Yet these forms of free government had fallen into disuse. And it is thus in all cases. Save 011 occa sions when some scandalous mismanagement, or corruption bringing great loss, has caused a revolutionary excitement among them, rail way -proprietors do not exercise their power's. Retiring directors being re-elected as a matter of form, the boai'd becomes practically a close body; usually some one member, often the chairman, acquires supremacy; and so the government lapses into something between oligarchy and monarchy. All this, observe, happening not exceptionally but as a rule, happens among bodies of men mostly well educated, and many highly educated — people of means, merchants, law yers, clergymen, &c. Ample disproof, if there needed any, of the notion that men are to be fitted for the right exercise of power by teaching.
And now to return. Anyone who looks through these facts and facts akin to them for the truth they imply, may see that forms of government arc valuable only where they are products of national character. No cunningly -devised polit ical arrangements will of themselves do anything. No amount of knowledge respecting the uses of such arrange ments will suffice. Nothing will suffice but the emotional nature to which such arrangements are adapted — a nature which, during social progress, has evolved the arrangements. And wherever there is want of congruity between the nature and the arrangements — wherever the arrangements, suddenly established by revolution or pushed too far by reforming change, are of a higher type than the national character de mands, there is always a lapse proportionate to the incongru ity. In proof I might enumerate the illustrations that lie scattered through the modern histories of Greece, of South America, of Mexico. Or I might dwell on the lesson (before briefly referred to) presented us in France; where the political cycle shows us again and again that new Democracy is but old Despotism differently spelt — where now, as heretofore, we find Liberte, Egalite, Fraternitt, conspicuous on the public buildings, and now, as heretofore, have for interpretations of these words the extremest party-hatreds, vituperations and actual assaults in the Assemhly, wholesale arrests of men un friendly to those in power, forbiddings of public meetings, and suppressions of journals; and where now, as heretofore, writers professing to be ardent advocates of political freedom, rejoice in these acts which shackle and gag their antagonists. But I will take, instead, a case more nearly allied to our own.
For less strikingly, and in other ways, but still with suffi cient clearness, this same truth is displayed in the United States. I do not refer only to such extreme illustrations of it as were at one time furnished in California; where, along with that complete political freedom which some think the sole requisite for social welfare, most men lived in perpetual fear for their lives, while others prided themselves on the notches which marked, on the hilts of their pistols, the num bers of men they had killed. Nor will I dwell on the state of society existing under republican forms in the West, where a white woman is burned to death for marrying a negro, where secret gangs murder in the night' men whose conduct they dislike, where mobs stop trains to lynch offending persons contained in them, where the carrying of a revolver is a matter of course, where judges are intimidated and the execu tion of justice often impracticable. I do but name these as extreme instances of the way in which, under institutions that nominally secure men from oppression, they may be intoler ably oppressed — unable to utter their opinions and to conduct their private lives as they please. Without going so far, we may find in the Eastern states proof enough that the forms of liberty and the reality of liberty are not necessarily commen surate. A state of things under which men administer justice in their own cases, are applauded for so doing, and mostly ac quitted if tried, is a state of things which has, in so far, retro graded towards a less civilized state; for one of the cardinal traits of political progress is the gradual disappearance of per sonal retaliation, and the increasing supremacy of a ruling power which settles the differences between individuals and punishes aggressors. And in proportion as this ruling power is enfeebled the security of individuals is lessened. How se curity, lessened in this general way, is lessened in more special ways, we see in the bribery of judges, in the financial frauds by which many are robbed without possibility of remedy, in the corruptness of New York administration, which, taxing so heavily, does so little. And, under another aspect, we see the like in the doings of legislative bodies — in the unfair advan tages which some individuals gain over others by "lobbying," in Credit-Mobilier briberies, and the like. While the outside form of free government remains, there has grown up within it a reality which makes government not free. The body of professional politicians, entering public life to get incomes, organizing their forces and developing their tactics, have, in fact, come to be a ruling class quite different from that which the constitution intended to secure; and a class having inter ests by no means identical with public interests. This worship of the appliances to liberty in place of liberty itself, needs continually exposing. There is no intrinsic virtue in votes. The possession of representatives is not itself a benefit.
These are but means to an end; and the end is the mainte nance of those conditions under which each citizen may carry on his life without further hindrances from other citizens than are involved by their equal claims — is the securing to each citizen all such beneficial results of his activities as his activi ties naturally bring. The worth of the means must be meas ured by the degree in which this end is achieved. A citizen nominally having complete means and but partially securing the end, is less free than another who uses incomplete means to more purpose.
But why go abroad for proofs of the truth that political forms are of worth only in proportion as they are vitalized by national character? We have proofs at home. I do not mean those furnished by past constitutional history— I do not merely refer to those many facts showing us that the nominal power of our representative body became an actual power only by degrees; and that the theoretically-independent House of Commons took centuries to escape from regal and aristocratic sway, and establish a practical independence. I refer to the present time, and to actions of our representative body in the plenitude of its power. This assembly of deputies chosen by large constituencies, and therefore so well fitted, as it would seem, for guarding the individual of whatever grade against trespasses upon his individuality, nevertheless itself authorizes new trespasses upon his individuality. A popular government has established, without the slightest hindrance, an official organization that treats with contempt the essential principles of constitutional rule; and since it has been made still more popular, has deliberately approved and maintained this organization. Here is a brief account of the steps leading to these results.
On the 20th June, 1864, just before 2 o'clock in the morn ing, there was read a first time an Act giving, in some locali ties, certain new powers to the police. On the 27th of that month, it was read a second time, entirely without comment — at what hour Hansard does not show. Just before 2 o'clock in the morning on. June 30th, there was appointed, without remark, a Select Committee to consider this proposed Act. On the 15th July the Report of this Committee was received.
On the 19th the Bill was re-committed, and the Report on it received — all in silence. On the 20th July it was considered — still in silence — as amended. And on the 21st July it was read a third time and passed — equally in silence. Taken next day to the House of Lords, it there, in silence no less profound, passed through all its stages in four days (? three). This Act not proving strong enough to meet the views of naval and military officers (who, according to the testimony of one of the Select Committee, were the promoters of it), was, in 1866, "amended." At 1 o'clock in the morning on March 16th of that year, the Act amending it was read a first time; and it was read a second time on the 22nd, when the Secretary of the Admiralty, describing it as an Act to secure the better health of soldiers and sailors, said " it was intended to renew an Act passed in 1864, with additional powers." And now, for the first time, there came brief adverse remarks from two members. On April 9th there was appointed a Select Com mittee, consisting mainly of the same members as the previous one — predominantly state-officers of one class or other. On the 20th, the Report of the Committee was received. On the 26th, the Bill was re-committed just before 2 o'clock in the morning; and on the Report there came some short com ments, which were, however, protested against on the ground that the Bill was not to be publicly discussed. And here ob serve the reception given to the only direct opposition raised.
When, to qualify a clause defining1 the powers of the police, it was proposed to add, " that the justices before whom such in formation shall be made, shall in all cases require corrobora tive testimony and support thereof, other than that of the members of the police force," this qualification was negatived without a word. Finally, this Act was approved and made more stringent by the present House of Commons in 1809.
And now what was this Act, passed the first time ab solutely without comment, and passed in its so-called amended form with but the briefest comments, made under protest that comments were interdicted? What was this measure, so conspicuously right that discussion of it was thought super fluous? It was a measure by which, in certain localities, one-half of the people were brought under the summary jurisdiction of magistrates, in respect of certain acts charged against them. Further, those by whom they were to be charged, and by whose unsupported testimony charges were to be proved, were agents of the law, looking for promotion as the reward of vigilance — agents placed under a permanent temptation to make and substantiate charges. And yet more, the substantiation of charges was made comparatively easy, by requiring only a single local magistrate to be convinced, by the testimony on oath of one of these agents of the law, that a person charged was guilty of the alleged acts — acts which, held to be thus proved, were punished by periodic examinations of a repulsive kind and forced inclusion in a degraded class. A House of Commons elected by large con stituencies, many of them chiefly composed of working-men, showed the greatest alacrity in making a law under which, in sundry districts, the liberty of a working-man's wife or daughter remains intact, only so long as a detective does not give evidence which leads a magistrate to believe her a pros titute! And this Bill which, even had there been some urgent need (which we have seen there was not) for dispens ing with precautions against injustice, should, at any rate, have been passed only after full debate and anxious criticism, was passed with every effort to maintain secrecy, on the pretext that decency forbade discussion of it; while Mordaunt-cases and the like were being reported with a fulness proportionate to the amount of objectionable details they brought out! Nor is this all. Not only do the provisions of the Act make easy the establishment of charges by men who are placed under temptations to make them; but these men are guarded against penalties apt to be brought oil them by abusing their power. A poor woman who proceeds against one of them for making a groundless accusation ruinous to her character, does so with this risk before her; that if she fails to get a verdict she has to pay the defendant's costs; whereas a verdict in her favour does not give her costs: only by a special order of the judge does she get costs! And this is the " even-handed justice " provided by a government freer in form than any we have ever had! 10 Let it not be supposed that in arguing thus I am implying that forms of government are unimportant. While contend ing that they are of value only in so far as a national charac ter gives life to them, it is consistent also to contend that they are essential as agencies through which that national character may work out its effects. A boy cannot wield to purpose an implement of size and weight fitted to the hand of a man. A man cannot do effective work with a boy's implement: he must have one adapted to his larger grasp and greater strength. To each the implement is essential; but the results which each achieves are not to be measured by the size or make of the implement alone, but by its adap tation to his powers. Similarly with political instrumen talities. It is possible to hold that a political instrumentality is of value only in proportion as there exists a strength of character needful for using it, and at the same time to hold that a fit political instrumentality is indispensable. Here, as before, results are not proportionate to appliances; but they are proportionate to the force for due operation of which certain appliances are necessary.
One other still more general and more subtle kind of political bias has to be guarded against. Beyond that excess of faith in laws, and in political forms, which is fostered by awe of regulative agencies, there is, even among those least swayed by this awe, a vague faith in the immediate possi bility of something much better than now exists — a tacit assumption that, even with men as they are, public affairs might be much better managed. The mental attitude of such may be best displayed by an imaginary conversation between one of them and a member of the Legislature.
" Why do your agents, with no warrant but a guess, mako this surcharge on my income-tax return; leaving me to pay an amount that is not due and to establish a precedent for future like payments, or else to lose valuable time in proving their assessment excessive, and, while so doing, to expose my affairs? You require me to choose between two losses, direct and indirect, for the sole reason that your assessor fancies, or professes to fancy, that I have under-stated my income.
Why do you allow this? Why in this case do you invert the principle which, in cases between citizens, you hold to be an equitable one — the principle that a claim must be proved by him who makes it, not disproved by him against whom it is made? Is it in pursuance of old political usages that you do this? Is it to harmonize with the practice of making one whom you had falsely accused, pay the costs of his defence, although in suits between citizens you require the loser to bear all the expense? — a practice you have but lately re linquished. Do you desire to keep up the spirit of the good old rulers who impressed labourers and paid them what they pleased, or the still older rulers who seized whatever they wanted? Would you maintain this tradition by laying hands on as much as possible of my earnings and leaving me to get part back if I can: expecting, indeed, that I shall submit to the loss rather than undergo the worry, and hindrance, and injury, needful to recover what you have wrongfully taken? I was brought up to regard the Government and its officers as my protectors; and now I find them aggressors against whom I have to defend myself."
" What would you have? Our agents could not bring for ward proof that an income-tax return was less than it should be. Either the present method must be pursued, or the tax must be abandoned."
" I have no concern with your alternative. I have merely to point out that between man and man you recognize no such plea. When a plaintiff makes a claim but cannot pro duce evidence, you do not make the defendant submit if he fails to show that the claim is groundless. You say that if no evidence can be given, nothing can be done. Why do you ignore this principle when your agent makes the claim? Why from the fountain of equity comes there this inequity? Is it to maintain consistency with that system of criminal jurisprudence under which, while professing to hold a man innocent till proved guilty, you treat him before trial like a convict — as you did Dr. Hessel? Are your views really represented by these Middlesex magistrates you have ap pointed, who see 110 hardships to a man of culture in the seclusion of a prison-cell, and the subjection to prison-rules, on the mere suspicion that he has committed a murder? " " The magistrates held that the rules allowed them to make no distinctions. You would not introduce class-legislation into prison-discipline? " " I remember that was one of the excuses; and I cheerfully give credit to this endeavour to treat all classes alike. I do so the more cheerfully because this application of the principle of equality differs much from those which you ordinarily make — as when, on discharging some of your well-paid of ficials who have held sinecures, you give them large pensions, for the reason, I suppose, that their expensive styles of living have disabled them from saving anything; while, when you discharge dock-yard labourers, you do not give them compen sation, for the reason, I suppose, that out of weekly wages it is easy to accumulate a competence. This, however, by the way.
I am here concerned with that action of your judicial system which makes it an aggressor on citizens, whether rich or poor, instead of a protector. The instances I have given are but trivial instances of its general operation. Law is still a name of dread, as it was in past times. My legal adviser, being my friend, strongly recommends me not to seek your aid in re covering property fraudulently taken from me; and I per ceive, from their remarks, that my acquaintances would pity me as a lost man if I got into your Court of Equity. Whether active or passive, I am in danger. Your arrangements are such that I may be pecuniarily knocked on the head by some one who pretends I have injured his property. I have the alternative of letting my pocket be picked by the scamp who makes this baseless allegation in the hope of being paid to desist, or of meeting the allegation in Chancery, and there 258 TnE STUDY OF SOCIOLOGY.
letting my pocket be picked, probably to a still greater extent, by your agencies. Nay, when you have, as you profess, done me justice by giving me a verdict and condemning the scamp to pay costs, I find I may still be ruined by having to pay my own costs if he has no means. To make your system con gruous throughout, it only needs that, when I call him to save me from the foot-pad, your policeman should deal me still heavier blows than the foot-pad did, and empty my purse of what remains in it.''
" Why so impatient? Are we not going to reform it all? Was it not last session proposed to make a Court of Appellate Jurisdiction by appointing four peers with salaries of £7000 each? And has there not been brought forward this ses sion, even quite early, a Government-measure for prevent ing the conflict of Law and Equity, and for facilitating ap peals? " " Thanks in advance for the improvement. When I have failed to ruin myself by a first suit, it wrill be a consolation to think that I can complete my ruin by a second with less delay than heretofore. Meanwhile, instead of facilitating appeals, which you seem to tbink of primary importance, I should be obliged if you would diminish the occasion for appeals, by making your laws such as it is possible for me to know, or at any rate, such as it is possible for your judges to know; and I should be further obliged if you would give me easier reme dies against aggressions, instead of remedies so costly, so de ceptive, so dangerous, that I prefer suffering the aggressions in silence. Daily I experience the futility of your system. I start on a journey expecting that in conformity with the ad vertised times, I shall just be able to reach a certain distant town before night; but the train being an hour late at one of the junctions, I am defeated — am put to the cost of a night spent on the way and lose half the next day. I paid for a first-class seat that I might have space, comfort, and unobjec tionable fellow-travellers; but, stopping at a town where a fair is going on, the guard, on the plea that the third-class carriages are full, thrusts into the compartment more persons than there are places for, who, both by behaviour and odour, are repulsive. Thus in two ways I am defrauded. For part of the fraud I have no remedy; and for the rest my remedy, doubtful at best, is practically unavailable. Is the reply that against the alleged breach of contract as to time, the com pany has guarded itself, or professes to have guarded itself, by disclaiming responsibility? The allowing such a dis claimer is one of your countless negligences. You do not allow me to plead irresponsibility if I give the company bad money, or if, having bought a ticket for the second class, I travel in the first. On my side you regard the contract as quite definite; but on the other side you practically allow the contract to remain undefined. And now see the general effects of your carelessness. Scarcely any trains keep their times; and the result of chronic unpunctuality is a multiplication of accidents with increased loss of life."
" How about laissez-faire? I thought your notion was that the less Government meddled with these things the better; and now you complain that the law does not secure your comfort in a railway-carriage and see that you are de livered at your journey's end in due time. I suppose you ap proved of the proposal made in the House last session, that companies should be compelled to give foot-warmers to sec ond-class passengers."
" Really you amaze me. I should have thought that not even ordinary intelligence, much less select legislative intelli gence, would have fallen into such a confusion. I am not blaming you for failing to secure me comfort or punctuality.
I am blaming you for failing to enforce contracts. Just as strongly as I protest against your neglect in letting a com pany take my money and then not give me all I paid for; so strongly should I protest did you dictate how much conven ience should be given me for so much money. Surely I need not remind you that your civil law in general proceeds on the principle that the goodness or badness of a bargain is the affair of those who make it, not your affair; but that it is your duty to enforce the bargain when made. Only in pro portion as this is done can men's lives in society be main tained. The condition to all life, human or other, is that effort put forth shall bring the means of repairing the parts wasted by effort — shall bring, too, more or less of surplus. A creature that continuously expends energy without return in nutriment dies; and a creature is indirectly killed by anything which, after energies have been expended, habitually intercepts the return. This holds of associated human beings as of all other beings. In a society, most citizens do not ob tain sustenance directly by the powers they exert, but do it indirectly: each gives the produce of his powers exerted in his special way, in exchange for the produce of other men's powers exerted in other ways. The condition under which only this obtaining of sustenance to replace the matter wasted by effort, can be carried on in society, is fulfilment of con tract. Non-fulfilment of contract is letting energy be ex pended in expectation of a return, and then withholding the return. Maintenance of contract, therefore, is maintenance of the fundamental principle of all life, under the form given to it by social arrangements. I blame you because you do not maintain this fundamental principle; and, as a consequence, allow life to be impeded and sacrificed in countless indirect ways. You are, I admit, solicitous about my life as endan gered by my own acts. Though you very inadequately guard me against injuries from others, you seem particularly anx ious that I shall not injure myself. Emulating Sir Peter Laurie, who made himself famous by threatening to 'put down suicide,' you do what you can to prevent me from risk ing my limbs. Your great care of me is shown, for instance, by enforcing a bye-law which forbids me to leave a railwaytrain in motion; and if I jump out, I find that whether I hurt myself or not, you decide to hurt me — by a fine.11 Not only do you thus punish me when I run the risk of punishing my self; but your amiable anxiety for my welfare shows itself in taking money out of my pocket to provide me with various conveniences— baths and wash-houses, for example, and free access to books. Out of my pocket, did I say? Not always.
Sometimes out of the pockets of those least able to afford it; as when, from poor authors who lose by their works, you de mand gratis copies for your public libraries, that I and others may read them for nothing — Dives robbing Lazarus that he may give alms to the well-clad! But these many things you offer are things I do not ask; and you will not effectually provide the one thing I do ask. I do not want you to ascer tain for me the nature of the Sun's corona, or to find a north west passage, or to explore the bottom of the sea; but I do