WE have seen how the Transcendentalists tried to suppress vivisection, in spite of all it has done for the health and happiness of mankind. The sanguinary intolerance of Robespierre and other disciples of Rousseau was described earlier in this volume. And the notorious inability of Carlyle and Garrison to argue calmly with those who differed with them further illustrates the tendency of confidence in one's own infallibility. Only he who knows that he may be wrong can admit consistently that those who reject his favourite beliefs may be right. The Parliament of Religions showed that there has been a growing conviction of the equal rights of holders of all forms of belief and unbelief; this conviction has been promoted by recognition of two great facts: first, that knowledge is based upon experience, and, second, that no one's life is so complete that he has nothing to learn from other people. If they do not believe as he does, it may be merely because experience has taught them truth which he still needs to learn. Each one knows only in part; and therefore no one can afford to take it for granted that anyone else is completely in error.

I. This tolerant method of thought has gained greatly in popularity since Darwin proved its capacity to solve the problem of the origin of man. The possibility that all forms of life, even the highest, are results of a natural process of gradual development has often been suggested by poets and philosophers. The probability was much discussed by men of science early in the nineteenth century; but it was not until 1858 that sufficient evidence was presented to justify acceptance of evolution as anything better than merely a theory. Twenty-one years had then elapsed since Darwin began a long series of investigations. In the first place, he collected an irresistible number of cases of the influence of environment in causing variations in structure, and of the tendency of such variations to be inherited. Most men who accepted these propositions admitted their insufficiency to account for the multiplicity of species; but the explanation became complete when Darwin discovered that any plant or animal which is peculiarly fit for survival in the continual struggle for existence is likely to become largely represented in the next generation. A spontaneous variation which prolongs the life of its possessor may thus become not only more common but more firmly fixed in successive generations, until a new species is established.

To this tendency Darwin gave the name "natural selection"; but this term literally implies a deliberate choice by some superhuman power. Herbert Spencer proposed the phrase, "survival of the fittest"; but it must be remembered that the fitness is not necessarily that of greater moral worth.

There may be merely such a superiority in strength and cunning as enables savages to devour a missionary. Spencer says that "the expression, 'survival of the fittest,'" merely means "the leaving alive of those which are best able to utilise surrounding aids to life, and best able to combat or avoid surrounding dangers." Weeds are fitter than flowers for natural growth; and Joan of Arc proved unfit to survive in the contest against wicked men.

This discovery of Darwin's made it his duty to avow a view which was so unpopular that he felt as if he were about "confessing a murder." He was making "a big book" out of the facts he had collected, when a manuscript statement of conclusions like his own was sent him by Wallace, who had discovered independently the great fact of the survival of the fittest. Darwin wished at first to resign all claim to originality; but his friends insisted on his taking a share of the honour of the discovery. Accordingly an essay, which he had written in 1844, was read in company with that sent him by Wallace before the LinnÆan Society, in London, on July 1, 1858. The importance of the new view was so well understood that the entire first edition, amounting to 1250 copies, of Darwin's Origin of Species, which book he wrote soon after, was sold on the day of publication, November 24, 1859. Other editions followed rapidly, with translations into many languages. No book of the century has been more revolutionary.

II. Theologians still insisted on the supernatural creation of each species of plant or animal, and especially of the human race, in its final form. The inference that man had been developed by natural processes out of some lower animal, was easily drawn from the Origin of Species, though not expressly stated therein; and there was great alarm among the clergy. An Anglican bishop, who was nicknamed "Soapy Sam" on account of his subserviency to public opinion, declared in a leading quarterly that Darwin held views "absolutely incompatible" with the Bible, and tending to "banish God from nature." Other prominent Episcopalians called the new book "an attempt to dethrone God," and propagate infidelity. Cardinal Manning denounced the "brutal philosophy" which taught that "There is no God, and the ape is our Adam." Both Catholics and Protestants started anti-Darwinian societies in London, and, in 1863, Huxley saw "the whole artillery of the pulpit brought upon the doctrine of evolution and its supporters." The example of England was followed promptly by France and Germany. America was distracted by civil war; and her men of science were so few and timid that the denunciations of Darwinism which were prompted by the theological and metaphysical prejudices of Agassiz were generally accepted as final decisions. The position of the Unitarians and Transcendentalists may be judged from the fact that, during a period of nearly three years after the publication of the Origin of Species, nothing was said about Darwinism in the extremely liberal divinity school where I was then a student. Evolutionism had to look for advocates in America to Spiritualists like Denton or unbelievers like Underwood at that period.

Clerical opposition increased the general unwillingness of scientific men to snatch up new views. As early as 1863, however, Darwin received the support of the famous geologist, Lyell, as well as of a younger naturalist destined to achieve even more brilliant success. Huxley has distinguished himself in arguments against the scientific value of the Bible. Among his other exploits was a demonstration that a chain, in which no link is missing, connects the horse with a small, extinct quadruped possessed of comparatively few equine peculiarities. In this case, transformation of species is an undeniable fact. Other young naturalists in England, as well as in Germany, gradually became willing to push the new view to its last results; and Darwin was encouraged to publish, in 1871, his elaborate account of the origin of our race, entitled The Descent of Man. The wrath of the churches blazed forth once more; and Gladstone entered the arena. Englishmen ventured no longer to say much about the differences between Moses and Darwin; for the obvious retort would have been, "So much the worse for Moses." A German Lutheran, however, bade his congregation choose between Christ and Darwin; and the infallibility of Moses was asserted so zealously by a Parisian Catholic as to win formal thanks from the Pope.

America was now wide awake; irreligious tendencies were assigned to evolutionism by the president of Yale, as well as by some Princeton professors; and one of these latter warned believers in the development of man that they would be punished as infidels after death. The verdict of men of science has at last been pronounced so plainly as to be accepted by thoroughly educated people in the Northern States; but the Southerners are more bigoted. Even so late as 1894, a professor of biology at the University of Texas was dismissed, in violation of contract, for teaching evolutionism. A similar offence had been found sufficient, ten years before, by the Presbyterians of South Carolina, for driving a devout member of their own sect from his chair in a theological seminary. That popular writer on geology, Winchell, was requested in 1878 by a Methodist bishop to resign a professorship at Nashville, Tennessee, where he had expressed doubt of the descent of all men from Adam. The geologist refused to resign, and the chair was suppressed.

Voltaire's chief grievance was the intolerance of Christianity. Paine and Bradlaugh complained that there was much immorality in the Old Testament. The most damaging of recent attacks have been made in the name of science. Genesis and geology had been found irreconcilable before the appearance of Darwinism; but the new system widened the breach. The most serious offence to the theologian, however, was that he could not longer point without danger of contradiction to beneficial peculiarities in the structure of plants and animals, as marks of the divine hand. The old argument about design was met by a demonstration that such peculiarities were apt to arise spontaneously, and become permanent under the pressure of the struggle for existence. The theologian has had to retreat to the position that Darwinism has not accounted for the soul, the intellect, and especially the intuitions.

III. Whether Darwin succeeded or not in this part of his work is not so important as the fact that, several years before he announced his great discovery, an elaborate account of the process by which the powers of thought and feeling have been developed gradually out of the lowest forms of consciousness was given by Herbert Spencer. The first edition of his Principles of Psychology, published in 1855, carried the explanation so far as to show the real origin and value of the intuitions. Their importance had been almost ignored by thinkers who relied entirely on individual experience, and greatly overrated by the Transcendentalists; but neither set of philosophers could explain these mysterious ideas. The infallibility of conscience is not to be reconciled with such facts as that Paul thought it his duty to persecute the Christians, or that Garrison, Sumner, John Brown, and Stonewall Jackson were among the most conscientious men of the century. The ancient Greeks agreed in recognising justice, but not benevolence, among the cardinal virtues; precisely the opposite error was made by Kant and Miss Cobbe; and a tabular view of all the lists of fundamental intuitions which have been made out by noted metaphysicians might be mistaken for a relic from the Tower of Babel. Emerson's religious instincts were not so much impressed as Parker's with the personality of God and immortality; but the difference seems almost insignificant when we remember what ideas of theology arose spontaneously in New Zealand. How widely the intuition of beauty varies may be judged from the inability of aesthetic Chinamen to admire the white teeth and rosy cheeks of an English belle. Intuition is plainly not an infallible oracle; but is it merely a misleading prejudice?

The puzzle was solved when Spencer showed that intuition is a result of the experience of the race. Courage, for instance, was so important for the survival of a primitive tribe in the struggle against its neighbours, that every man found his comfort and reputation depend mainly on his prowess. If he fought desperately he gained wealth, honour, and plenty of wives; but cowards were maltreated by other men and scorned even by the women. The bravest man left the largest number of offspring; and every boy was told so early and earnestly to be courageous as to develop a pugnacious instinct, which has come down to the present day in much greater strength than is needed for the ordinary demands of civilised life. We love war too much, because our ancestors were in danger of not loving it enough for their own safety. As courage ceased to be the one all-important excellence, industry, fidelity, and honesty were found so useful as to be encouraged with a care which has done much to mould conscience into its present shape. Other virtues were inculcated in the same way. The welfare of the family was found to depend largely on the fidelity of wife to husband; and the result was that chastity has held a much higher place in the feminine than in the masculine conscience. So our religious instincts owe much of their strength to the zeal with which our ancestors sought to avert the divine wrath. Thus we have ideas which were originally only vague inferences from primitive experience, but which have gradually gained such strength and definiteness, that they have much more power than if we had thought them out unaided by the past. Spencer himself says, "There have been, and still are, developing in the race certain fundamental moral intuitions" which "are the results of accumulated experiences of utility, gradually organised and inherited," but "have come to be quite independent of conscious experience." They "have no apparent basis in the individual experiences of utility"; and thus conscience has acquired its characteristic disinterestedness.

When we feel this inner prompting to a brave or honest action which must be done promptly or left undone, it is our duty to act without hesitation or regard to our own interest. We are serving our race in the way which its experience has taught. Suppose, however, that there is time enough for deliberation, and that we see a possibility of harm to our neighbours, our family, or even to our own highest welfare. In this case, we ought to compare the good and evil results carefully. We should also do well to consider what was the decision of the consciences of the best and wisest men under similar circumstances. If we neglect these precautions, we may be in danger of following not conscience but passion. There is also a possibility that conscience may embody only such primitive ideas of duty as have since been found incorrect. This has often been the case with persecutors and monarchists.

Generosity is still too apt to take an impulsive and reckless form which perpetuates pauperism. Spencer has taught us that conscience is worthy not only of obedience, but of education.

Spencer's attempt to substitute a thoughtful for a thoughtless goodness of character has been much aided by his protest against such undiscriminating exhortations to self-sacrifice as are constantly heard from the pulpit. Good people, and especially good women, welcome the idea of giving up innocent pleasure and enduring needless pain. The glory of martyrdom blinds them to the fact that, as Spencer says in his Psychology, "Pains are the correlatives of actions injurious to the organism, while pleasures are the correlatives of actions conducive to its welfare." In other words, "Pleasures are the incentives to life-supporting acts, and pains the deterrents from life-destroying acts." Abstinence from pleasure may involve loss of health. Self-sacrifice is scarcely possible without some injury to mind or body; as is the case with people who make it a religious duty to read no interesting books and take scarcely any exercise on Sunday. It is further true that "The continual acceptance of benefits at the expense of a fellow-being is morally injurious"; as "The continual giving up of pleasures and continual submission to pains are physically injurious." Blind self-sacrifice "curses giver and receiver—physically deteriorates the one and morally deteriorates the other," "the outcome of the policy being destruction of the worthy in making worse the unworthy." No wonder that men are stronger, and also more selfish, than women. Almost all self-sacrifice involves loss of individual liberty. The subjection of women has been deepened by their readiness to sacrifice themselves to those they love; their fondness for martyrdom often leads them into the sin of marrying without love; and generosity of heart facilitates ruin. Women would really be more virtuous if they felt less obligation to their lovers and more to their race.

IV. Spencer's psychological discoveries were corollaries to that great principle of evolution of which he made the following announcement as early as 1857 in the Westminster Review. After declaring his belief in "that divergence of many races from one race which we inferred must have continually been occurring during geologic time," he stated that "The law of all progress is to be found in these varied evolutions of the homogeneous into the heterogeneous," or in other words, "out of the simple into the complex." The discoveries of Darwin and Wallace were not announced before 1858, but Spencer avowed in 1852 his belief in "the theory of evolution" or "development hypothesis," according to which "complex organic forms may have arisen by successive modifications out of simple ones." It was without any aid or suggestion from Darwin that Spencer's statement of the law of evolution was brought into the final form published in 1862. Evolution was then described as change, not only from the simple to the complex, but also from the chaotic to the concentric and consolidated, or, in Spencer's own words, "from an indefinite incoherent homogeneity to a definite coherent heterogeneity." Progress, he says, consists in integration as well as differentiation. There is an increase in permanence and definiteness as well as in variety. Higher forms are not only more complex and unlike than lower ones, but also more stable and more strongly marked.

Spencer has been represented by some Transcendentalists as Darwin's pupil; but the whole system just described would, in all probability, have been built up in substantially its present form, if both Darwin and Wallace had kept their discoveries to themselves. The only difference would have been that Spencer could not have been sustained by such a great mass of evidence. All these facts were collected by Darwin merely to prove the physical development of men and other animals from lower forms of life; but Spencer showed that all the phenomena of thought and feeling, as well as of astronomy, geology, and chemistry, are results of the great laws of integration and differentiation. All human history and social relations can be accounted for in this way. And if this extension had not been given to the principle of evolution, Darwin's discoveries might soon have ceased to have much interest, except for students of natural history. Each of the two great evolutionists helped the other gain influence; but their co-operation was almost as unintentional as that of two luminaries which form a double star.

V. Spencer has done much to diminish intolerance, by teaching, as early as 1862, that all religions are necessary steps in the upward march of evolution.

He has also attempted to reconcile religion and science, by teaching that the one all-essential belief is in a great unknowable reality, which is not only inscrutable but inconceivable. In writing about this supreme power, he uses capitals with a constancy which would look like an assumption of knowledge, if the same habit were not followed in regard to many other words of much less importance. He admits that "We cannot decide between the alternative suppositions, that phenomena are due to the variously conditioned workings of a single force, and that they are due to the conflict of two forces." "Matter cannot be conceived," he says, "except as manifesting forces of attraction and repulsion"; but he also says that these antagonistic and conflicting forces "must not be taken as realities but as our symbols of the reality," "the forms under which the workings of the unknowable are cognisable." This creed is accepted by many American evolutionists. It is the doctrine of one of Spencer's most elaborate and brilliant interpreters, Professor John Fiske, of such popular clergymen as Doctors Minot J. Savage and Lyman Abbott, and of many of the members of that energetic organisation, "The Brooklyn Ethical Association." The Open Court of Chicago and other periodicals are working avowedly for "the Religion of Science"; but that is not to be established without much closer conformity to the old-fashioned creeds and ceremonies than has been made by Spencer. His later works seem more orthodox than his earlier ones; but his final decision is that "The very notions, origin, cause, and purpose, are relations belonging to human thought, which are probably irrelevant to the ultimate reality." He has also admitted that the proposition, "Evolution is caused by mind," "cannot be rendered into thought." And he is right in saying that he has nowhere suggested worship.

Whether he has proposed a reconciliation, or only a compromise, whether evolutionism will ever be as popular in the pulpit as Transcendentalism, and whether there is not more reality in the forces of attraction and repulsion than in Spencer's great unknowable, are problems which I will not discuss. Darwin was an agnostic like Huxley, who held that "We know nothing of what may be beyond phenomena," and "Science commits suicide when she adopts a creed." Huxley pronounced the course of nature "neither moral nor immoral, but non-moral," and declared that "The ethical progress of society depends not on imitating the cosmic process but on combating it." The severity of his criticism of the Gospel narratives called out threats of prosecution for blasphemy. He avowed "entire concurrence" with Haeckel, who holds that belief in a personal God and an immortal soul are incompatible with the fundamental principles of evolution. The German scientist argues in his elaborate history of the development of animals, that life is no manifestation of divine power, working with benevolent purpose, but merely the necessary result of unconscious forces, inherent in the chemical constitution and physical properties of matter, and acting mechanically according to immutable laws. The position of Haeckel and Huxley is all the more significant because Frederic Harrison knows of "no single thinker in Europe who has come forward to support this religion of an unknown cause."

VI. A much more important controversy has been called out by Spencer's theory of the limits of government. As early as 1842 he proposed "the limitation of state action to the maintenance of equitable relations among citizens." His Social Statics demanded, in 1850, as a necessary condition of high development, "the liberty of each, limited only by the like liberty of all." His ideal would be a government where "every man has freedom to do all he wills, provided he infringes not the equal freedom of any other man." These propositions are repeated in the revised edition of 1892, which differs from the earlier one in omitting a denial of the right of private property in land, and also a demand for female suffrage. How far Spencer had changed his views may be seen in his volume on Justice. Both editions of Social Statics deny the right of governments to support churches, public schools, boards of health, poorhouses, lighthouses, or mints. Spencer would have titles to land guaranteed by the State, and property-holders protected against unjust lawsuits; but otherwise the government ought to confine itself, he thinks, to managing the army, navy, and police.

This position is defended by an appeal to the fact that the citizen is most energetic and intelligent where he is most free to act for himself. No American is as helpless before pestilence or famine as a Russian peasant, or as afraid to go to a burning house until summoned by the police. A despotism may begin with a strong army; but it ends, like the Roman Empire, in the weakness which it has brought on by crushing the spirit of its soldiers. Strong governments make weak men. Never was there a mightier army than was given by the French Republic to Napoleon. Industrial prosperity depends even more closely than military glory on the energy of men who have been at liberty to think and act freely. People develop most vigorously where they are least meddled with. The average man knows much more than his rulers do about his own private business; and he is active to promote it in ways which secure the general welfare.

Great stress is laid not only in Social Statics but in Spencer's book on The Man versus the State, and in several essays, on the many times that the British Government has increased an evil by trying to cure it. What is said about its extravagance will not surprise any American who remembers what vast sums are squandered by Congress. The post-office is often spoken of as proof that our Government could run our railroads; but one of Boston's best postmasters said, "No private business could be managed like this without going into bankruptcy." The British Government has a monopoly of the telegraph; and introduction of the telephone was very difficult in consequence. In Victoria, the Postmaster-General has abused his privileges so much as to appoint a "sporting agent" to telegraph the results of a horse-race; and this same highly protectionist colony has had laws forbidding any shop to be open after 7 P.M., except on Saturday, and any woman to work more than forty-eight hours a week in any factory. How governments interfered in former centuries with people's right to feed, clothe, employ, and amuse themselves, seems almost inconceivable at present.

Persecution was one among many forms of mischievous meddling. Locke, in arguing for toleration in 1689, was obliged to take the ground that "The whole jurisdiction of the magistrate reaches only" to securing unto all the people "life, liberty, health," and also "outward things such as money, lands, houses, furniture, and the like." "Government," he said, "hath no end but preservation, and therefore can never have a right to destroy, enslave, or designedly to impoverish the subject." Clearer language was used by those French patriots who declared in the Constitution of 1791 that liberty consists in ability to do everything which brings no harm to others; and, two years afterwards, that the liberty of each citizen should extend to where that of some other citizen begins. Nearly fifty years later, a theory very like Spencer's was published by Wilhelm von Humboldt, brother of the great naturalist. Among the many writers who have held that government ought not to be merely limited but repudiated totally was Thoreau. It was in 1854 that this zealous abolitionist publicly renounced his allegiance to a great anti-slavery commonwealth, and that he asserted, in Walden, the necessity of preserving individual liberty by conforming as little as possible to any social usages, even that of working regularly in order to support one's self and family in comfort. That same year, Spencer showed in his essay on Manners and Fashion the difference between a regulation by which public opinion tries to prevent rude people from making themselves unnecessarily disagreeable to their neighbours, and one which encourages dissipation by arbitrarily check-ing innocent amusement. Even in the latter case, however, there is, as he says, but little gain from any solitary nonconformity. Reform must be carried on in co-operation.

That powerful assailant of Transcendentalism, John Stuart Mill, was not an evolutionist; but it was largely due to his liberal aid that the system of differentiation and integration was published. This generosity was consistent with his own position, that all opinions ought to have a hearing, and especially those which are novel and unpopular, for they are peculiarly likely to contain some exposure of ancient error or revelation of new truth. This fact was set forth with such ability in his book, On Liberty, in 1859, that several long passages were quoted in the public protest, delivered in Ohio five years later by Vallandigham, against the war then carried on for bringing back the seceded States. Mill holds that neither government nor public opinion ought to interfere with any individual, except "to prevent doing harm to others." He says, for instance, that there would be no tyranny in forcing parents to let their children have education enough to become safe members of society. Such a law could scarcely be justified by the principle of giving all the liberty to each compatible with the like liberty of all. Among the restrictions which Mill mentions as oppressive are those in England and America against selling liquor, gambling, and Sunday amusements. He admits the difficulty of deciding "how far liberty may be legitimately invaded for the prevention of crime."

VII. It was in full conformity with the principles of Mill, Spencer, and Locke that the Constitution of Louisiana, as revised in 1879, declared that the only legitimate object of government "is to protect the citizen in the enjoyment of life, liberty, and property. When it assumes other functions, it is usurpation and oppression." Similar sentiments have been occasionally expressed in political platforms. Such narrow limits have not, so far as I know, ever been observed in the United States or in any other civilised land. Few people love liberty so much as not to be willing that the state should give them security against conflagration and contagious disease. There is also a general demand for such safety as is given by roads, streets, bridges, lighthouses, and life-saving stations. The necessity of hospitals, asylums, and poorhouses is manifest. If all this expense had to be met by public-spirited individuals, it is probable that their wealth would prove insufficient. It is further necessary for the public safety that there should be compulsory vaccination during epidemics of smallpox, confinement of dangerous lunatics and tramps, rescue of children from vicious parents, and maintenance of what ought not to be called compulsory but guaranteed education. Marriage has to be made binding for the protection of mothers as well as children. The thirst for drink needs at least as much restraint as is kept up in Scandinavia. And the tendency of bad money to drive out good is strong enough to justify laws against circulation of depreciated currency.

Public schools are particularly important in America, where presidential and congressional elections are apt to turn on financial issues which can scarcely be understood by men not thoroughly educated. Spencer's objections apply more closely to the European system, that of centralisation of management, than to the American. It is well to know also that he was misled by a hasty reference, perhaps by some assistant, to an English statistician named Fletcher. This high authority did admit, in 1849, that he found "a superficial evidence against instruction." He went on, however, to say much which is not mentioned in Social Statics, and which proved the evidence to be only superficial. By classifying crimes according to enormity, he showed that the worst were most frequent in the least educated districts. He also discovered that those counties in England where ability to sign the marriage register was most common were most free from paupers, dangerous criminals, and illegitimate children. "The conclusion is therefore irresistible," says Fletcher, "that education is essential to the security of modern society." Most of the other testimony brought forward in Social Statics is invalidated by Fletcher's method; and Spencer added nothing in the second edition to the insufficient statements in the first.

British education has improved greatly in both quality and quantity since 1876; but the prisons of England and Wales had only two-thirds as many inmates in 1890 as in 1878, and only one-half as large a part of the population. The most dangerous prisoners were only one-third as numerous in 1890 and 1891 as forty-five years earlier; and the percentage of forgers only one-tenth as great as in 1857. We ought further to remember the almost complete unanimity of opinion in favour of free education wherever it is universal.

Public schools in America are all the more useful because they are superintended by town and city officials, elected in great part by men who know them personally. This is also the case with the boards of health, and the managers of poorhouses, cemeteries, public libraries, and parks. Among other subjects of local self-government are the roads, bridges, streets, and sewers. Our large cities are notoriously misgoverned, but it will be easier to raise the character of the officials than to contract their powers. Much is to be hoped from civil service reform, proportional representation, and nonpartisan elections. Town affairs are usually so carefully looked after by people not in office as to be managed for the public welfare. Both in towns and cities the tendency is to enlarge rather than contract the functions of the government. A proposal that any city should let tenements or sell coal more cheaply than is done by individuals, would seem to be for the advantage of everybody except a few payers of heavy taxes. The majority of voters would care little about increase of taxation, in comparison with the prospect of more demand for labour and greater activity in business. It is easy to make extravagance popular where the majority rules. Our State constitutions would probably make it impossible for coal to be sold or tenements let by cities and towns; but these latter often carry on gas-works, water-works, electric roads, and other highly beneficial industries. This may be necessary to check the rapacity of corporations; but otherwise there is too much danger of extravagance, discouragement of individual enterprise, and delay in improving the processes monopolised by the municipality. Some evils would be lessened by a transfer of the control of lighthouses and life-saving stations from the national Government to that of the nearest cities, or else of single States.

Our people are much better able to judge of the success of State than of Federal legislation and management. Of course the chief duties of the State are to pass laws for the protection of life and property against crime, and to manage such indispensable penal, charitable, and educational institutions as are not provided by the municipalities. It is still necessary for the States of our Union to keep up the militia; but perhaps the best thing that could be done for the public safety would be to have tramps kept from crime, and assisted to employment by a State police. Ownership of real estate would be more secure, and sale easier, if titles were guaranteed by the State; and it would also do well, as Spencer suggests, to help people of moderate means resist lawsuits brought to extort money. It seems, at all events, well that our States keep up their boards of health, and their supervision of banks, railroads, steamboats, and factories. There are a great many unnecessary laws, as, for instance, was one in Massachusetts for selling coal below market price. This was fortunately decided to be unconstitutional; but whether this commonwealth ought to continue to supply free text-books, especially in high schools, seems to me questionable. Many individualists object to laws against gambling, selling liquor, and other conduct which does no direct injury except to those who take part voluntarily. There are vicious tendencies enough in human nature, I think, to justify attempts to keep temptation out of sight.

No advantage of this kind can be claimed for the Sunday laws in our Eastern and Southern States. It is certainly desirable to have one day a week of rest from labour and business; but it is equally true that a man's ploughing his field or weeding his garden does not infringe on the liberty of his neighbours, diminish their security of person and property, or encourage their vicious propensities, even on Sunday. It is setting a bad example to break any law; but I do not think that any citizen of Massachusetts was seriously corrupted by resisting the Fugitive Slave Act; and I doubt if any Vermonter was morally the worse for breaking the law in that State against Sunday "visits from house to house, except from motives of humanity or charity, or for moral and religious edification." It is better to have the laws obeyed intelligently than blindly; and those really worthy of respect would have more authority if every prohibition which is never enforced, except out of malice, were repealed. Much aid is given to morality by such religious observances as are voluntary and conscientious; but compulsory observance breeds both slaves and rebels.

How far our Sunday laws are meant to encourage the peculiar usages of the popular sects is seen in the fact that, since 1877, about 150 professed Christians, who had kept the Sabbath on the day set apart in the Bible, were arrested on the charge of having profaned Sunday by such actions as ploughing a retired field, weeding a garden, cutting wood needed for immediate use, or making a dress. They refused to pay any fine; most of them were imprisoned accordingly; in one case the confinement lasted 129 days; two deaths were hastened by incarceration; and in the summer of 1895 eight of these "Saturdarians," as they were nicknamed, were working in a chain-gang on the roads in Tennessee. One of the eight was a clergyman. Among the commonwealths which prosecuted observers of the original Sabbath as Sabbath-breakers were Georgia, Maryland, Missouri, Arkansas, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Massachusetts, and seven other States. Such prosecutions were too much like persecutions; for people who kept neither Saturday nor Sunday were not so much molested. If the Sunday laws were really meant for the public welfare, every citizen would be allowed to choose his own Sabbath, and no one who kept Saturday sacred would be required to rest on Sunday also. Such liberal legislation has actually been passed by Rhode Island and many other States.

How strict the law is against doing business on Sunday may be judged from the fact that in 1896 a decrepit old woman was sent to jail in New York City for selling a couple of bananas, and a boy of fifteen was arrested for selling five cents' worth of coal in January. Three men were fined for selling umbrellas in the street on a rainy Sunday in 1895, and others were arrested for selling five cents' worth of ice. People who have no refrigerators suffer under the difficulty of buying ice, fruit, and meat on a hot Sunday in our Eastern cities.

Sunday laws and customs differ so widely in our various States, that they cannot all be wise and just. Rest from labour and business is secured in Southern California, without State legislation, by the action of public opinion; and were this to become too weak, it would be reinforced by the trades-unions. Personal liberty is not necessarily violated by laws prohibiting disturbance of public worship; but it would be if anyone were compelled to testify in court, or sit on the jury, or do any other business elsewhere, on any day set apart for rest by his conscience and religion. There seems to be little necessity for other legislation, except under peculiar local circumstances to which town and city magistrates are better able than members of State and national legislatures to do justice. The question, what places of business that have no vicious tendencies ought to be allowed to open on Sunday, might settle itself, as does the question how early they are to close on other days of the week. There needs no law to prevent business being done at night. Stores which could offer nothing that many people need to buy on Sunday, would have so few customers that the proprietors could ill afford to open their doors. Where the demand is as great and innocent as it is for fresh meat and fruit in hot weather, the interest of the proprietor is no more plain than is the duty of the legislator and magistrate. People employed in hotels, stables, telegraph offices, libraries, museums, and parks, can, of course, protect themselves from overwork, as domestic servants do, by stipulating for holidays and half-holidays.

Whatever may be the gain to public health from cessation of labour and business on Sunday, there is no such advantage, but rather injury, from the prohibition of healthy recreations and amusements, which are acknowledged to be perfectly innocent on at least six days of the week. Sunday is by no means so strictly observed, especially in this respect, on the continent of Europe as in the United States. Sabbatarianism is peculiarly an American and British institution; and this fact justifies the position that it is by no means a necessary condition of the security, or even the welfare, of civilised nations. If our Sunday laws cannot be proved to be necessary, they must be admitted to be oppressive. Over-taxation is but a slight grievance compared with the tyranny of sending men and women to jail for inability or unwillingness to pay the fines imposed in 1895 by the State of Tennessee for working on their farms, or in Massachusetts soon after for playing cards in their own rooms. Further consideration of the question, what amusements should be permitted on Sunday, will be found in an appendix.

Such problems are peculiarly unfit for treatment by our central Government. Its chief duty, of course, is protection of our people against invasion and rebellion; and the authority of the President and Congress ought not to be weakened by vain attempts to settle disputes which would be dealt with much more satisfactorily by the cities and towns. A Sunday law too lax for Pennsylvania might be too strict for California. The system of post-offices is too well adapted for the general welfare to be given up hastily; but the Government ought to surrender the monopoly which now makes it almost impossible for citizens to free themselves from dependence on disobliging or incompetent postmasters. I have nothing to say against the Census, Education, Health, and Patent Bureaus, nor against the Smithsonian Museum, except that our citizens have a right to use their own property as freely on Sunday as on any other day of the week. I do not see why our Government should have more than that of other nations to do with the issue of paper money; but I leave the bank question to abler pens.

The tariff is a much plainer issue. We are told in Social Statics that "A government trenches upon men's liberties of action" in obstructing commercial intercourse; "and by so doing directly reverses its function. To secure for each man the fullest freedom to exercise his faculties, compatible with the like freedom of all others, we find to be the state's duty. Now trade-prohibitions and trade-restrictions not only do not secure this freedom, but they take it away, so that in enforcing them the state is transformed from a maintainer of rights into a violator of rights." The obstacles to importation deliberately set up by American tariffs, indirectly check exportation; for unwillingness to buy from any other nation diminishes not only its willingness but its ability to buy our products in return. The United States are actually exporting large amounts of cattle, wheat, and cotton, as well as of boots and shoes, agricultural implements, steel rails, hardware, watches, and cotton cloth. These commodities are produced by Americans who can defy foreign competition. In some cases the tariff enables them to raise their prices at home, to the loss of their fellow-citizens. Prices abroad cannot be raised by our Government. What it can and does do is to burden both farms and factories by duties on lumber, glass, coal, wool, woollen goods, and many other imports. The rates are arranged with a view to increase, not individual liberty or public security, but the profits of managers of enterprises which would not pay without such help. Men who are carrying on profitable industries have to make up part of what is lost in unprofitable ones. In fact, the cost of living is increased needlessly for all our citizens, except the privileged few.

There would be less injustice in aiding new enterprises by bounties; but the proper authorities to decide how much money should be voted for such purposes are the cities and towns. Some of the makers of our national Constitution wished to make tariff legislation in Congress impossible except by a majority of two-thirds; and this might properly be required for all measures not planned in behalf of individual liberty or the public safety. Much of the business now done by the nation ought to be transferred to the States. They took the lead between 1830 and 1870 in improving rivers and harbours, building railroads, and digging canals. The result of transferring such work to Congress was that in 1890 it voted $25,000,000 to carry on 435 undertakings, more than one-fourth of which had been judged unnecessary by engineers. Two years later, four times as many new jobs were voted as had been recommended by the House committee. Among these plans was one, in regard to the Hudson River, which was the proper business of the State of New York. The extravagance of our pension system is notorious. If the restriction proposed by Spencer is applicable anywhere, it is to central rather than local governments.

VIII. Great as are the evils of unnecessary laws, Spencer's remedy is too sweeping to be universally supported by evolutionists. Huxley protests against it as "administrative Nihilism," and declares that if his next-door neighbour is allowed to bring up children "untaught and untrained to earn their living, he is doing his best to restrict my freedom, by increasing the burden of taxation for the support of gaols and workhouses which I have to pay." His conclusion is that "No limit is or can be theoretically set to state interference." The impossibility of drawing "a hard and fast line" is admitted even by so extreme an individualist as Wordsworth Donisthorpe, who complains that "Crimes go unpunished in England," while the "Great National Pickpocket" is busy "reading through all the comedies and burlesques brought out in the theatres," "running after little boys who dare to play pitch-farthing," or "going on sledging expeditions to the North Pole."

Lecky agrees so far with Spencer and Mill as to say, in Democracy and Liberty, that punishment should "be confined, as a general rule, to acts which are directly injurious to others," and accordingly that "With Sunday amusements in private life, the legislator should have no concern." As a check to over-legislation, he recommends biennial sessions, instead of annual; and he protests against the despotism of trades-unions. His strongest point against Spencer is that sanitary legislation has added several years to the average length of life in England and Wales, prevented more than eighty thousand deaths there in a single year, and actually reduced the death-rate of the army in India by more than four-fifths.

IX. Spencer has succeeded in increasing the number of individualists so much, that Donisthorpe says they can be counted by the thousand, though there were scarcely enough in 1875 in England to fill an omnibus. Transcendentalism had made individualism comparatively common long before in America. The principle of not interfering with other people, except to prevent their wronging us, is fully applicable, as Spencer says, to the relation of husband with wife, and also to that of parent and teacher with child. It could also be followed with great advantage in the case of domestic servants. There can be no doubt of the correctness of the position, taken in the Principles of Sociology, that delight in war has a tendency to stifle love of liberty. Sparta, Russia, and the new German Empire show that where the ideal of a nation is military glory, "The individual is owned by the State." The citizens are so graded, that "All are masters of those below and subjects of those above." The workers must live for the benefit of the fighters, and both be controlled closely by the government. Armies flourish on the decay of individual rights. How difficult it was to avoid this, during some bloody years, even in America, has been shown in Chapter IV. A nation of shopkeepers is better fitted than a nation of soldiers to develop free institutions.

One of Spencer's objections to Socialism is that it would "end in military despotism." Nothing else could replace competition so far as to keep a nation industrious. Spencer is right in saying, "Benefit and worth must vary together," which means that wages and salaries should correspond to value of work. Otherwise, "The society decays from increase of its least worthy members and decrease of its most worthy members."

These facts are so generally known already, that there is less danger than is thought by Spencer, of either the national establishment of Socialism or of a ruinous extension of governmental interference. The average American is altogether too willing to have his wealthy neighbours taxed for his own benefit; but he knows that he can make himself and his family more comfortable by his own exertions than his poor neighbours are; and he is not going to let any government forbid his doing so. He does not object to public libraries, and perhaps would not to free theatres; but he would vote down any plan which would prevent his using his money and time to his own greatest advantage. He is sometimes misled by plausible excuses for wasting public money, and arresting innocent people; but he insists on at least some better pretext than was made for the old-fashioned meddling with food, clothing, business, and religion. He may not call himself an individualist; but he will never practise Socialism.

This sort of man is already predominant in Great Britain, as well as in America; and multiplication of the type elsewhere is fostered by mighty tendencies. The duty of treating every form of religion according to ethical and not theological standards is rapidly becoming the practice of all civilised governments; and persecution is peculiar to Turkey and Russia. These two despotisms form, with Germany, the principal exceptions to the rule that political liberty is on the increase throughout Europe, especially in the form of local self-government. The nineteenth century has made even the poorest people more secure than ever before from oppression and lawless violence, as well as from pestilence and famine. Destitution is relieved more amply and wisely, while industry and intelligence are encouraged by opportunity to enjoy comforts and luxuries once almost or altogether out of the reach of monarchs. The fetters formerly laid on trade of cities with their own suburbs have been broken; and the examples of Great Britain and New South Wales are proving that nations profit more by helping than hindering one another in the broad paths of commerce. Industrial efficiency has certainly been much promoted by the tendency, not only of scientific education but of manual training, to substitute knowledge of realities for quarrels about abstractions. All these changes favour the extension of free institutions and also of individual liberty, wherever peace can be maintained. Industrial nations gain more than warlike ones by encouraging intellectual independence; but the general advantage is great enough to ensure the final triumph of liberty.