Yet must this highest individuation be joined with the greatest mutual dependence. Paradoxical though the asser- tion looks, the progress is at once towards complete separate- ness and complete union. But the separateness is of a kind consistent with the most complex combinations for fulfilling social wants; and the union is of a kind that does not hinder entire development of each personaHty. Civilization is evolv- ing a state of things and a Mnd of character, in which two apparently conflicting requirements are reconciled. To achieve the creative purpose — the greatest sum of happiness, there must on the one hand exist an amount of population maintainable only by the best possible system of production; that is, by the most elaborate subdivision of labour; that is, by the extremest mutual dependence: whilst on the other hand, each individual 442 GENERAL CONSIDERATIONS.
must have tlie opportunity to do whatever his desires prompt. Clearly these two conditions can be harmonized only by that adaptation humanity is undergoing — that process during which all desires inconsistent with the most perfect social organiza- tion are dying out, and other desires corresponding to such an organization are being developed. How this will eventuate in producing at once perfect individuation and perfect mutual dependence, may not be at once obvious. But probably an illustration will sufficiently elucidate the matter. Here are certain domestic affections, which can be gratified only by the estabhshment of relationships with other beings. In the ab- sence of those beings, and the consequent dormancy of the feelings with which they are regarded, life is incomplete — the individuality is shorn of its fair proportions. Now as the normal unfolding of the conjugal and parental elements of the individuality depends on having a family, so, when civilization becomes complete, will the normal unfolding of all other ele- ments of the individuality depend upon the existence of the civilized state. Just that kind of individuality wiU be acquired which finds in the most highly-organized community the fittest sphere for its manifestation — which finds in each social arrangement a condition answering to some faculty in itself — which could not, in fact, expand at all, if otherwise circum- stanced. The ultimate man will be one whose private require- ments coincide with public ones. He will be that manner of man, who, in spontaneously fulfilling his own nature, inci- dentally performs the functions of a social unit; and yet is only enabled so to fulfil his own nature, by all others doing the like.
How truly, indeed, human progress is towards greater mu- tual dependence, as weU as towards greater individuation — how truly the welfare of each is daily more involved in the welfare of all — and how, truly, therefore, it is the interest of each to respect the interests of all, may, with advantage, be illustrated GENERAL CONSIDERATIONS. 443 at length; for it is a fact of which many seem wofully igno- rant. Men cannot break that vital la^y of the social organism — the law of equal freedom, without penalties in some way or other coming round to them. Being themselves members of the community, they are affected by whatever affects it. Upon the goodness or badness of its state depends the greater or less efficiency with which it administers to their w^ants; and the less or greater amount of evil it inflicts upon them. Through those vicious arrangements that hourly gall them, they feel the cumulative result of all sins against the social law; their own sins included. And they suffer for these sins, not only in extra restraints and alarms, but in the extra labour and ex- pense required to compass their ends.
That every trespass produces a reaction, partly general and partly special — a reaction which is extreme in proportion as the trespass is great, has been more or less noticed in aU ages. Thus the remark is as old as the time of Thales, that tyrants rarely die natural deaths. From his day to ours, the thrones of the East have been continually stained with the blood of their successive occupants. The early histories of all European states, and the recent history of Eussia, illustrate the same fact; and if we are to judge by his habits, the present Czar lives in constant fear of assassination. Nor is it true that those who bear universal sway, and seem able to do as they please, can really do so. They limit their own freedom in limiting that of others: their despotism recoils, and puts them also in bondage. We read, for instance, that the Eoman emperors were the puppets of their soldiers. " In the Byzantine palace," says Gibbon, " the emperor was the first slave of the ceremonies he imposed." Speaking of the tedious etiquette of the time of Louis le Grand, Madame de Maintenon remarks, " Save those only who fill the highest stations, I know of none more un- fortunate than those who envy them. If you could only form an idea of what it is! " The same reaction is felt by slave- owners. Some of the West India planters have acknowledged that before negro emancipation they were the greatest slaves 444 GENERAL CONSIDERATIONS.
on their estates. The Americans, too, ai-e shackled in various ways by their own injustice. In the south, the whites are self-coerced, that they may coerce the blacks. Marriage with one of the mixed race is forbidden; there is a slave-owning quaUfication for senators; a man may not liberate his own slaves without leave; and only at the risk of lynching dare any one say a word in favour of abolition.
It is, indeed, becoming clear to most that these gross trans- gi-essions return upon the perpetrators — that " this even-handed justice commends the ingredients of our poisoned chalice to our own lips; " but it is not yet clear to them that the like is true of those lesser transgressions they are themselves guilty of. Probably the modem maintainers of class power can see well enough that their feudal ancestors paid somewhat dearly for keeping the masses in thraldom. They can see that, what with armour and hidden mail, what with sliding panels, secret passages, dimly-lighted rooms, precautions against poi- son, and constant fears of surprise and treachery, these barons had but uncomfortable lives of it at the best. They can see how delusive was the notion that the greatest wealth was to be obtained by making serfs of the people. They can see that in Jacqueries and GaUician massacres, when bondsmen glut their vengeance by burning castles and slaughtering the inmates, there arrive fatal settlements of long-standing ba- lances. But they cannot see that their own inequitable deeds, in one way or other, come home to them. Just as these feudal nobles mistook the evils they suffered under for unalterable ordinations of nature, never dreaming that they were the reflex results of tyranny, so do their descendants fail to perceive that many of their own unhappinesses are similarly generated.
And yet, whilst in some cases it is scarcely possible to trace the secret channels through which our misbehaviour to others returns upon us, there are other cases in which the reaction is palpable. An audience rushing out of a theatre on fire, and in their eagerness to get before each other jamming up the doorway so that no one can get tlirough, ofi'ers a good example GENERAL CONSIDERATIONS. 445 of unjust selfishness defeating itself. An analogous result may be witnessed at the American ordinaries, where the at- tempts of greedy guests to get more tlian a fair share, have generated a competition in fast eating which not only frus- trates these attempts, but entails on all, immediate loss of enjoyment and permanent ill-health. In such cases it is clear enough, that by trespassing upon the claims of others, men hurt themselves also. The reaction is here direct and immediate. In all other cases, however, reaction is equally sure, though it may come round by some circuitous route, or after a consider- able lapse of time, or in an unrecognized form. The country squire who thinks it a piece of profound policy to clear his estate of cottages, that he may saddle some other place with the paupers, forgets that landowners in neighbouring parishes will eventually defeat him by doing the same; or that if he is so situated as to settle his labourers upon towns, the walking of extra miles to and fro must gradually lower the standard of a day's work, raise the cost of cultivation, and, in the end, decrease rent. Nor does he see that by the overcrowded bed- rooms and neglected drainage and repairs to which this poUcy leads, he is generating debihty or disease, and raising his poors-rates in one way, whilst he lowers them in another. The Dorsetshire farmer who pays wages in taiHngs of wheat charged above market price, imagines he is economizing. It never occurs to him that he loses more than the difference by petty thefts, by the destruction of his hedges for fuel, by the consequent pounding of his cattle, and by the increase of county-rates, for the prosecution of robbers and poachers. It seems very clear to the tradesman that all extra profit made by adulterating goods, is so much pure gain; and for a while, perhaps, it may be. By-and-by, however, his competitors do as he does — are in a measure compelled to do so— and the rate of profit is then brought down to what it was before. Meanwhile the general practice of adulteration has been en- couraged— has got into other departments — has deteriorated the articles our shopkeeper buys; and thus, in his capacity of 44G GENERAL CONSIDERATIONS.
consumer, he suffers from the vicious system he has helped to strengthen. When, during negro apprenticeship, the West India planters had to value slaves who wished to huy them- selves off, before " the Queen's free," they no doubt thought it cunning to make oath to a higher worth per day than the true one. But when, awhile after, having to pay wages, they had their own estimates quoted to them, and found that the negroes would take nothing less, they probably repented of their dis- honesty. It is often long before these recoils come; but they do come, nevertheless. See how the Irish landlords are at length being punished for their rack-renting, their evictions, their encouragement of middlemen, and their utter recklessness of popular welfare. Note, too, how for having abetted those who wronged the native Irish, England has to pay a penalty, in the shape of loans wliich are not refunded,, and in the misery produced by the swarms of indigent immigrants, who tend to bring down her own people to their level. Thus, be they committed by many or by few — be they seen in efforts to despoil foreigners by restrictive duties, or in a tradesman's trickeries — breaches of equity are uniformly self-defeating. Whilst men continue social units, they cannot transgress the life principle of society without disastrous consequences some- how or other coming back upon them.
Not only does the ultimate welfare of the citizen demand that he should himself conform to the moral law; it equally concerns him that every one should conform to it. This inter- dependence which the social state necessitates makes aU men's business his business, in a more or less indirect way. To people whose eyes do not wander beyond their ledgers, it seems of no consequence how the affairs of mankind go. They think they know better than to trouble themselves with public matters, making enemies and damaging their trade. Yet if they are indeed so selfish as to care nothing about their fellow-crea- GENERAL CONSIDERATIONS. 447 tures, whilst their o^\^l flesh-pots are -well filled, let them leam that tliey have a pounds, shilhngs, and pence interest at stake. Mere pocket prudence should induce them to further human welfare, if no higher motive will. To help in putting things on a juster footing will eventually pay. The diffusion of sound principles and the improvement of pubhc morality, end in diminishing household expenses. Can they not see that when buying meat and bread and groceries, they have to give some- thing towards maintaining prisons and police? Can they not see that in the price of a coat they are charged a large per- centage to cover the tailor's bad debts? Every transaction of their lives is in some way hampered by the general immorality. They feel it in the rate of interest demanded for capital, which (neglecting temporary variations) is high in proportion as men are bad^. They feel it in the amount of attorneys' bills; or in having to suffer robbery, lest the law should commit on them greater robbery. They feel it in their share of the two and a half millions a year, which our metallic currency costs. They feel it in those collapses of trade, which follow extensive gam- bling speculations. It seems to them an absurd waste of time to help in spreading independence amongst men; and yet, did they call to mind how those railway shares, which they bought at a premium, went down to a ruinous discount because the directors cringed to a rich bully, they would leam that the pre- valence of a manly spirit may become of money- value to them. They suppose themselves unconcerned in the quarrels of neigh- bouring nations; and yet, on examination, they will find that a Hungarian war by the loans it calls for, or a Danish blockade by its influence upon our commerce, more or less remotely affects their profits, in whatever secluded nook of England they may Hve. Their belief is that they are not at all interested in the good government of India; and yet a little reflection would show them that they continually suffer from those fluctuations * When dishonesty and improvidence are extreme, capital cannot be had under 30 to 40 per cent., as in the Burmese empire, or in England in the time of King John. — See Mill's Political Economy.
448 GENERAL CONSIDERATIONS.
of trade consequent upon the irregular and insufficient supply of cotton from America — fluctuations which would probably have ceased, had not India been exhausted by its rulers' extravagance. Not interested? Why even the better education of the Chinese is of moment to them, for Chinese prejudice shuts out English merchants. Not interested? Why they have a stake in the making of American railways and canals, for these ultimately affect the price of bread in England. Not interested? Why the accumulation of wealth by every people on the face of the earth concerns them; for whilst it is the law of capital to overflow from those places where it is abundant, to those where it is scarce, rich nations can never fully enjoy the fruits of their own laboiu- until other nations are equally rich. The well ordering of human affairs in the remotest and most insignificant com- munities is beneficial to all men: the ill ordering of them calamitous to all men. And though the citizen may be but slightly acted upon by each pai-ticular good or evil influence, at work within his own society, and still more shghtly by each of those at work within other societies — although the effect on him may be infinitesimal, yet it is on the cumulative result of myriads of these infinitesimal influences that his happiness or misery depends.
Still more clearly seen is this ultimate identity of personal interests and social interests, when we discover how essentially vital is the connection between each person and the society of which he is a unit. We commonly enough compare a nation to a Uving organism. We speak of " the body politic," of the functions of its several pai-ts, of its growth, tmd of its diseases, as though it were a creature. But we usually employ these expressions as metaphors, httle suspecting how close is the analogy, and how far it will bear carrying out. So completely, however, is a society organized upon the same system as an in- dividual being, that we may almost say there is something more than analog}' between them. Let us look at a few of the facts.
GENERAL CONSIDERATIONS. 449 Observe first, that the parallel gains immensely in reason- ableness, when we learn that the human body is itself com- pounded of innumerable microscopic organisms, which possess a kind of independent vitality, which grow by imbibing nutri- ment from the circulating fluids, and which multiply, as the in- fusorial monads do, by spontaneous fission. The whole process of development, beginning with the first change in the ovum, and ending with the production of an adult man, is funda- mentally a perpetual increase in the number of these ' cells by the mode of fissiparous generation. On the other hand, that gradual decay witnessed in old age, is in essence a cessation of this increase. During health, the vitality of these cells is subordinated to that of the system at large; and the presence of insubordinate cells implies disease. Thus, small-pox arises from the intrusion of a species of cell, foreign to that commu- nity of cells of which the body consists, and which, absorbing nourishment from the blood, rapidly multiplies by spontaneous division, until its progeny have diffused themselves throughout the tissues; and if the excreting energies of the constitution fail to get rid of these aliens, death ensues. In certain states of body, indigenous cells will take on new forms of life, and by continuing to reproduce their like, give origin to para- sitic growths, such as cancer. Under the microscope, cancer can be identified by a specific element, known as the cancer-cell. Besides those modifications of cell-vitality, which constitute mahgnant diseases, there occasionally happens another in which cells, without any change in their essential nature, rebel against the general governing force of the system; and, instead of ceas- ing to grow, whilst yet invisible to the naked eye, expand to a considerable size, sometimes even reaching several inches in diameter. These are called Hydatids or Aceplialo cysts'^, and ^ " The primitive forms of all tissues are free cells, which grow by imbibition, and which develop their like from their nucleus of hyaline. All the animal tissues result from transformations of these cells. It is to such cells that the acephalocvst bears the closest analogies in physical, chemical, and vital properties. • « * • We may, with some truth, say that the human body is primarily composed or built up of acephalocysts; microscopical, indeed, and which, under natural and healthy G G 450 GENERAL CONSIDERATIONS.
have, until lately, been taken for internal parasites or entozoa. Still closer appears the relationship between tissue-cells and the lowest independent organisms, on finding that there exists a creature called the Gregarina, very similar in structure to the Hydatid, but which is admitted to be an entozoon. Consisting as it does of a ceU-membrane, inclosing fluid and fl solid nucleus, and multiplying as it does by the spontaneous fission of this nucleus and subsequent division of the ceU-walls, the Gregarina difiers from a tissue-cell merely in size, and in not forming part of the organ containing it^ Thus there may conditions, are metamorphosed into cartilage, bone, nerve, muscular fibre, &c When, instead of such change, the organic cells grow to dimensions which make them recognisable to the naked eye, such development of acephalocysts, as they are then called, is commonly connected in the human subject with an enfeeblement of the controlling plastic force, which, at some of the weaker points of the frame, seems unable to direct the metamorphosis of the primitive cells along the right road to the tissues they were destined to form, but permits them to retain, as it were, their embryo condition, and - to grow by the imbibition of the surrounding fluid, and thus become the means of injuriously affecting or destroying the tissues which they should have supported and repaired. I regard the different Acephalocysts, therefore, as merely so many forms or species of morbid or dropsical cells." — Professor Owen^s Hunterian Lectures.
^ " Schleiden has viewed these Gregarina as essentially single organic cells, and would refer them to the lowest group of plants. And here, indeed, we have a good instance of the essential unity of the organic di%'ision of matter. It is only the power of self-contraction of tissue, and its solubility in acetic acid, which turn the scale in favour of the animality of the Gregari-iia; they have no mouth and no stomach which have commonly been deemed the most constant organic characteristics of an animal."
"1846, Henle and others have questioned the title of the Grcyai-iTia to be regarded as an organic species or individual at all, or as anything more than a monstrous cell: thus applying to it my idea, propounded in 1843, of the true nature of the acepha- locyst."
"1848, KoUicker has recently published an elaborate memoir on the genus, in which good and sufficient grounds are given for concluding that the Gregarina not merely resembles, but actually is an animated cell; it stands on the lowest step of the ani- mal series, parallel with that of the single-celled species of the vegetable kingdom. The Gregarina consists, as Schleiden and others have well shoivn, of a cell-membrane of the fluid and granular contents of the cell, and of the nucleus with (occasional) nucleoli. The nucleus is the hardest part, resisting pressure longest, like that of the Polygastrian. It divides, and its division is foUowed by spontaneous fission."— Professor Owen's Hunterian Lectures.
GENERAL CONSIDERATIONS. 451 coexist in the same organism cells of which that organism is constituted, others which should have helped to build it up, but which are insubordinate or partially separate, and others which are naturally separate, and simply reside in its cavities. Hence we are warranted in considering the body as a common- wealth of monads, each of which has independent powers of hfe, growth, and reproduction; each of which unites with a number of others to perform some function needful for supporting itself and all the rest; and each of which absorbs its share of nutri- ment from the blood. And when thus regai-ded, the analogy between an individual being and a human society, in which each man, whilst helping to subserve some pubhc want, absorbs a portion of the circulating stock of commodities brought to his door, is palpable enough.
A still more remarkable fulfilment of this analogy is to be found in the fact, that the different kinds of organization wliich society takes on, in progressing from its lowest to its highest phase of development, are essentially similar to the different kinds of animal organization. Creatures of inferior tj'pe are httle more than aggregations of numerous like parts — are moulded on what Professor Owen terms the principle of ve- getative repetition; and in tracing the forms assumed by suc- cessive grades above these, we find a gi-adual diminution in the number of hke parts, and a multiplication of unhke ones. In the one extreme there are but few functions, and many similar agents to each function: in the other, there are many functions, and few similar agents to each function. Thus the visual apparatus in a fly consists of two gi'oups of fixed lenses, numbering in some species 20,000. Every one of these lenses produces an image; but as its field of view is extremely narrow, and as there exists no power of adaptation to different distances, the vision obtained is probably very imperfect. Whilst the mammal, on the other hand, possesses but two eyes; each of these includes numerous appendages. It is compounded of several lenses, having different forms and duties. These lenses