So long as a man takes an interest only in himself, in his own fortune, in his own advancement, in his own success, his interests are trivial: all that is, like himself, of little importance and of short duration. Alongside of the small boat which he steers so carefully there are thousands and millions of others of like it; none of them are worth much, and his own is not worth more. However well he may have provisioned and sailed it, it will always remain what it is, slight and fragile; in vain will he hoist his flags, decorate it, and shove ahead to get the first place; in three steps he has reached its length. However well he handles and maintains it, in a few years it leaks; sooner or later it crumbles and sinks, and with it goes all his effort. Is it reasonable to work so hard for this, and is so slight an object worth so great an effort?

Fortunately, man has, for a better placement of his effort, other aims, more vast and more substantial: a family, a commune, a church, a country, all the associations of which he is or becomes a member, all the collective undertakings in behalf of science, education, and charity, of local or general utility, most of them provided with legal statutes and organized as corporations or even as a legal entity. They are as well defined and protected as he is, but more precious and more viable: for they are of service to a large number of men and last for ever. Some, even, have a secular history, and their age predicts their longevity. In the countless fleet of boats which so constantly sink, and which are so constantly replaced by others, they last like top rated liners. The men from the flotilla now and then sign on these large vessels, and the result of their labor is not, as it is at home, futile or short-lived; it will remain above the surface after he and his boat have disappeared. It has entered into the common mass of work which owes its protection to its mass; undoubtedly the portion he contributes may be worked over again later on; but its substance remains, and often also its form:

* like a precept of Jesus,

* like Archimedes' theorem

which rests a definite acquisition, intact and permanently fixed for two thousand years, immortal from the first day.—Consequently, the individual may take an interest, no longer merely in his own boat, but again in some ship, in this or that particular one, in this or that association or community, according to his preferences and his aptitudes, according to attractiveness, proximity, and convenience of access, all of which is a new motivation for his activities, opposing his egoism, which, powerful as it may be, may still be overcome, since a soul might be very generous or qualified by long and special discipline. Out of this issues every sacrifice, the surrender of one's-self to one's work or to a cause,

* the devotion of the sister of charity or of the missionary,

* the abnegation of the scientist who buries himself for twenty years in the minutia of a thankless task,

* the heroism of the explorer who risks himself on a desert or among savages,

* the courage of the soldier who stakes his life in defense of his flag.

But these cases are rare; with the mass of men, and in most of their actions, personal interest prevails against common interest, while against the egoistic instinct the social instinct is feeble. Hence the danger of weakening this. The temptation of the individual to prefer his own boat to the large ship is only too great; if it is desirable for him to go aboard and work there, he must be provided with the facilities and motives which prompt him to go aboard and do the work; at the very least, he must not be deprived of them. Now, that depends on the State, a sort of central flag-ship, the only one that is armed, and which has all subordinate vessels under its guns; for, whatever the society may be, provincial or municipal, educational or charitable, religious or laic, it is the State which sanctions or adopts its statues, good or bad, and which, by its laws, tribunals, and police, insures their execution, whether rigidly or carelessly. Therefore, on this point, it is responsible; it must adopt or impose the proper statute, the most suitable social form for strengthening the social instinct, for maintaining disinterested zeal, for the encouragement of voluntary and gratuitous labor.

This form, of course, differs according to different societies; the same charter or constitution is not proper for a church system and a commune, nor for a Protestant church and a Catholic church, nor for a town of one hundred thousand inhabitants and a village of five hundred. Each association has its own peculiar and distinctive features, which grade it according to its kind, according to its spiritual or temporal aims, according to its liberal or authoritative spirit, according to is small or large dimensions, according to the simplicity or complexity of its affairs, according to the capacity or incapacity of its members: features which within it are both efficient and permanent; whatever the legislator may do, these will remain and will regulate all activity. Thus let him, in each case, keep this in mind. But in all cases his office is the same; always, on drawing up and countersigning a statute, he intervenes in the coming conflict between the social instinct and the egoistic instinct; every provision which he enacts will contribute, nearby or at a distance, to the final ascendancy of the former or of the latter. Now, the legislator the natural ally of the former, for the former is his indispensable auxiliary. In every work or enterprise of public utility, if the legislator is the external promoter, social instinct is the internal promoter; and on the inner spring becoming weak or breaking, the impulsion from outside remains without effect. Hence it is that, if the legislator would accomplish anything, otherwise than on paper, he must, before any object or interest, concern himself with the social instinct4101; thus preserving and humoring it; find room for it and its usefulness; let it have full play; getting all the service it is capable of rendering, and especially not twist or release it.—In this respect, any blunder might prove disastrous; and in every statute for each society, for each of the human vessels which gather together and serve as a retinue of individual vessels, there are two capital errors. On the one hand, if the statute, in fact and practically, is or becomes too grossly unjust, if the rights and benefits which it confers are not compensated by the duties and obligations it imposes; if it multiplies excessive burdens for some and sinecures for others; if, at last, the exploited individual discovers that he is overcharged beyond his due,—thereafter he refuses on his own to add voluntarily to his load. Let others, let the favored and the privileged bear the gratuitous, extra weight. Far from stepping forward and offering his shoulders, he gets out of the way, hides himself, and lightens his load as much as he can; he even rebels when he has a chance, and violently casts off every legal burden, be it tax or due of any kind. Thus did the ancient rÉgime perish.—On the other hand, if the statute withdraws the management of the ship from those who are concerned; if, on this vessel, which belongs to them, it permanently installs a foreign crew, which assumes and exercises all command, then the owner of the vessel, reduced to the humble condition of a mere subject and quiescent taxpayer, will no longer feel concerned. Since the intruders exercise all authority, let them have all the trouble; the working of the ship concerns them and not him; he looks on as a spectator, without any idea of lending a hand; he folds his arms, remains idle, and becomes critical.—Against the first defect, the new rÉgime is on its guard: there must be neither the preferred nor the disgraced, neither favors nor exemptions, neither exclusions nor releases, no more misappropriation, embezzlement, or robbery, not alone in the State, but elsewhere in any direction,—in the department, in the commune, in the Church, or in educational and benevolent institutions. It excels in practicing distributive justice. The second defect is its hidden flaw: the legislator having introduced this into all local and special statutes, its effects differ according to different societies; but all these effects converge, paralyzing in the nation the best half of the soul, and, worse still, to leading the will astray and perverting the public mind, transforming generous impulses into evil outbursts, and organizing lasting inertia, ennui, discontent, discord, feebleness, and sterility.4102