how natural it is for us to consider any difference in manners,
customs, religion, etc., as proof of the inferiority of those who
differ from us, any one who has emancipated himself in any degree from
prejudice, and who mixes with different classes, may see in civilized
society. In religion, for instance, the spirit of the hymn—
“I’d rather be a Baptist, and wear a shining face,
Than for to be a Methodist and always fall from grace,”
is observable in all denominations. As the English Bishop said,
“Orthodoxy is my doxy, and heterodoxy is any other doxy,” while the
universal tendency is to classify all outside of the orthodoxies and
heterodoxies of the prevailing religion as heathens or atheists. And
the like tendency is observable as to all other differences.
[63] The Sandwich Islanders did honor to their good chiefs by eating
their bodies. Their bad and tyrannical chiefs they would not touch. The
New Zealanders had a notion that by eating their enemies they acquired
their strength and valor. And this seems to be the general origin of
eating prisoners of war.
CHAPTER IV.
HOW MODERN CIVILIZATION MAY DECLINE.
The conclusion we have thus reached harmonizes completely with our
previous conclusions.
This consideration of the law of human progress not only brings the
politico-economic laws, which in this inquiry we have worked out,
within the scope of a higher law—perhaps the very highest law our minds
can grasp—but it proves that the making of land common property in the
way I have proposed would give an enormous impetus to civilization,
while the refusal to do so must entail retrogression. A civilization
like ours must either advance or go back; it cannot stand still. It
is not like those homogeneous civilizations, such as that of the Nile
Valley, which molded men for their places and put them in it like
bricks into a pyramid. It much more resembles that civilization whose
rise and fall is within historic times, and from which it sprung.
There is just now a disposition to scoff at any implication that we are
not in all respects progressing, and the spirit of our times is that of
the edict which the flattering premier proposed to the Chinese Emperor
who burned the ancient books—“that all who may dare to speak together
about the She and the Shoo be put to death; that those who make mention
of the past so as to blame the present be put to death along with their
relatives.”
Yet it is evident that there have been times of decline, just as there
have been times of advance; and it is further evident that these epochs
of decline could not at first have been generally recognized.
He would have been a rash man who, when Augustus was changing the
Rome of brick to the Rome of marble, when wealth was augmenting and
magnificence increasing, when victorious legions were extending the
frontier, when manners were becoming more refined, language more
polished, and literature rising to higher splendors—he would have been
a rash man who then would have said that Rome was entering her decline.
Yet such was the case.
And whoever will look may see that though our civilization is
apparently advancing with greater rapidity than ever, the same cause
which turned Roman progress into retrogression is operating now.
What has destroyed every previous civilization has been the tendency
to the unequal distribution of wealth and power. This same tendency,
operating with increasing force, is observable in our civilization
to-day, showing itself in every progressive community, and with greater
intensity the more progressive the community. Wages and interest tend
constantly to fall, rent to rise, the rich to become very much richer,
the poor to become more helpless and hopeless, and the middle class to
be swept away.
I have traced this tendency to its cause. I have shown by what simple
means this cause may be removed. I now wish to point out _how_, if this
is not done, progress must turn to decadence, and modern civilization
decline to barbarism, as have all previous civilizations. It is worth
while to point out _how_ this may occur, as many people, being unable
to see how progress may pass into retrogression, conceive such a thing
impossible. Gibbon, for instance, thought that modern civilization
could never be destroyed because there remained no barbarians to
overrun it, and it is a common idea that the invention of printing by
so multiplying books has prevented the possibility of knowledge ever
again being lost.
The conditions of social progress, as we have traced the law, are
association and equality. The general tendency of modern development,
since the time when we can first discern the gleams of civilization in
the darkness which followed the fall of the Western Empire, has been
toward political and legal equality—to the abolition of slavery; to the
abrogation of status; to the sweeping away of hereditary privileges;
to the substitution of parliamentary for arbitrary government; to the
right of private judgment in matters of religion; to the more equal
security in person and property of high and low, weak and strong; to
the greater freedom of movement and occupation, of speech and of the
press. The history of modern civilization is the history of advances in
this direction—of the struggles and triumphs of personal, political,
and religious freedom. And the general law is shown by the fact that
just as this tendency has asserted itself civilization has advanced,
while just as it has been repressed or forced back civilization has
been checked.
This tendency has reached its full expression in the American Republic,
where political and legal rights are absolutely equal, and, owing to
the system of rotation in office, even the growth of a bureaucracy
is prevented; where every religious belief or non-belief stands on
the same footing; where every boy may hope to be President, every
man has an equal voice in public affairs, and every official is
mediately or immediately dependent for the short lease of his place
upon a popular vote. This tendency has yet some triumphs to win in
England, in extending the suffrage, and sweeping away the vestiges
of monarchy, aristocracy, and prelacy; while in such countries as
Germany and Russia, where divine right is yet a good deal more than
a legal fiction, it has a considerable distance to go. But it is the
prevailing tendency, and how soon Europe will be completely republican
is only a matter of time, or rather of accident. The United States are
therefore, in this respect, the most advanced of all the great nations,
in a direction in which all are advancing, and in the United States we
see just how much this tendency to personal and political freedom can
of itself accomplish.
Now, the first effect of the tendency to political equality was to the
more equal distribution of wealth and power; for, while population
is comparatively sparse, inequality in the distribution of wealth is
principally due to the inequality of personal rights, and it is only
as material progress goes on that the tendency to inequality involved
in the reduction of land to private ownership strongly appears. But it
is now manifest that absolute political equality does not in itself
prevent the tendency to inequality involved in the private ownership of
land, and it is further evident that political equality, co-existing
with an increasing tendency to the unequal distribution of wealth, must
ultimately beget either the despotism of organized tyranny or the worse
despotism of anarchy.
To turn a republican government into a despotism the basest and most
brutal, it is not necessary formally to change its constitution or
abandon popular elections. It was centuries after Cæsar before the
absolute master of the Roman world pretended to rule other than by
authority of a Senate that trembled before him.
But forms are nothing when substance has gone, and the forms of popular
government are those from which the substance of freedom may most
easily go. Extremes meet, and a government of universal suffrage and
theoretical equality may, under conditions which impel the change,
most readily become a despotism. For there despotism advances in the
name and with the might of the people. The single source of power once
secured, everything is secured. There is no unfranchised class to
whom appeal may be made, no privileged orders who in defending their
own rights may defend those of all. No bulwark remains to stay the
flood, no eminence to rise above it. They were belted barons led by a
mitered archbishop who curbed the Plantagenet with Magna Charta; it
was the middle classes who broke the pride of the Stuarts; but a mere
aristocracy of wealth will never struggle while it can hope to bribe a
tyrant.
And when the disparity of condition increases, so does universal
suffrage make it easy to seize the source of power, for the greater
is the proportion of power in the hands of those who feel no direct
interest in the conduct of government; who, tortured by want and
embruted by poverty, are ready to sell their votes to the highest
bidder or follow the lead of the most blatant demagogue; or who, made
bitter by hardships, may even look upon profligate and tyrannous
government with the satisfaction we may imagine the proletarians
and slaves of Rome to have felt, as they saw a Caligula or Nero
raging among the rich patricians. Given a community with republican
institutions, in which one class is too rich to be shorn of its
luxuries, no matter how public affairs are administered, and another
so poor that a few dollars on election day will seem more than any
abstract consideration; in which the few roll in wealth and the many
seethe with discontent at a condition of things they know not how to
remedy, and power must pass into the hands of jobbers who will buy and
sell it as the Prætorians sold the Roman purple, or into the hands of
demagogues who will seize and wield it for a time, only to be displaced
by worse demagogues.
Where there is anything like an equal distribution of wealth—that is to
say, where there is general patriotism, virtue, and intelligence—the
more democratic the government the better it will be; but where there
is gross inequality in the distribution of wealth, the more democratic
the government the worse it will be; for, while rotten democracy
may not in itself be worse than rotten autocracy, its effects upon
national character will be worse. To give the suffrage to tramps, to
paupers, to men to whom the chance to labor is a boon, to men who must
beg, or steal, or starve, is to invoke destruction. To put political
power in the hands of men embittered and degraded by poverty is to tie
firebrands to foxes and turn them loose amid the standing corn; it
is to put out the eyes of a Samson and to twine his arms around the
pillars of national life.
Even the accidents of hereditary succession or of selection by lot, the
plan of some of the ancient republics, may sometimes place the wise
and just in power; but in a corrupt democracy the tendency is always
to give power to the worst. Honesty and patriotism are weighted, and
unscrupulousness commands success. The best gravitate to the bottom,
the worst float to the top, and the vile will only be ousted by the
viler. While as national character must gradually assimilate to the
qualities that win power, and consequently respect, that demoralization
of opinion goes on which in the long panorama of history we may see
over and over again transmuting races of freemen into races of slaves.
As in England in the last century, when Parliament was but a close
corporation of the aristocracy, a corrupt oligarchy clearly fenced off
from the masses may exist without much effect on national character,
because in that case power is associated in the popular mind with other
things than corruption. But where there are no hereditary distinctions,
and men are habitually seen to raise themselves by corrupt qualities
from the lowest places to wealth and power, tolerance of these
qualities finally becomes admiration. A corrupt democratic government
must finally corrupt the people, and when a people become corrupt there
is no resurrection. The life is gone, only the carcass remains; and it
is left but for the plowshares of fate to bury it out of sight.
Now this transformation of popular government into despotism of the
vilest and most degrading kind, which must inevitably result from the
unequal distribution of wealth, is not a thing of the far future. It
has already begun in the United States, and is rapidly going on under
our eyes. That our legislative bodies are steadily deteriorating in
standard; that men of the highest ability and character are compelled
to eschew politics, and the arts of the jobber count for more than
the reputation of the statesman; that voting is done more recklessly
and the power of money is increasing; that it is harder to arouse
the people to the necessity of reforms and more difficult to carry
them out; that political differences are ceasing to be differences of
principle, and abstract ideas are losing their power; that parties
are passing into the control of what in general government would be
oligarchies and dictatorships; are all evidences of political decline.
The type of modern growth is the great city. Here are to be found the
greatest wealth and the deepest poverty. And it is here that popular
government has most clearly broken down. In all the great American
cities there is to-day as clearly defined a ruling class as in the most
aristocratic countries of the world. Its members carry wards in their
pockets, make up the slates for nominating conventions, distribute
offices as they bargain together, and—though they toil not, neither do
they spin—wear the best of raiment and spend money lavishly. They are
men of power, whose favor the ambitious must court and whose vengeance
he must avoid. Who are these men? The wise, the good, the learned—men
who have earned the confidence of their fellow-citizens by the purity
of their lives, the splendor of their talents, their probity in public
trusts, their deep study of the problems of government? No; they are
gamblers, saloon keepers, pugilists, or worse, who have made a trade
of controlling votes and of buying and selling offices and official
acts. They stand to the government of these cities as the Prætorian
Guards did to that of declining Rome. He who would wear the purple,
fill the curule chair, or have the fasces carried before him, must go
or send his messengers to their camps, give them donatives and make
them promises. It is through these men that the rich corporations
and powerful pecuniary interests can pack the Senate and the bench
with their creatures. It is these men who make School Directors,
Supervisors, Assessors, members of the Legislature, Congressmen. Why,
there are many election districts in the United States in which a
George Washington, a Benjamin Franklin or a Thomas Jefferson could
no more go to the lower house of a State Legislature than under the
Ancient Régime a base-born peasant could become a Marshal of France.
Their very character would be an insuperable disqualification.
In theory we are intense democrats. The proposal to sacrifice swine in
the temple would hardly have excited greater horror and indignation in
Jerusalem of old than would among us that of conferring a distinction
of rank upon our most eminent citizen. But is there not growing up
among us a class who have all the power without any of the virtues of
aristocracy? We have simple citizens who control thousands of miles of
railroad, millions of acres of land, the means of livelihood of great
numbers of men; who name the Governors of sovereign States as they
name their clerks, choose Senators as they choose attorneys, and whose
will is as supreme with Legislatures as that of a French King sitting
in bed of justice. The undercurrents of the times seem to sweep us
back again to the old conditions from which we dreamed we had escaped.
The development of the artisan and commercial classes gradually broke
down feudalism after it had become so complete that men thought of
heaven as organized on a feudal basis, and ranked the first and
second persons of the Trinity as suzerain and tenant-in-chief. But
now the development of manufactures and exchange, acting in a social
organization in which land is made private property, threatens to
compel every worker to seek a master, as the insecurity which followed
the final break-up of the Roman Empire compelled every freeman to seek
a lord. Nothing seems exempt from this tendency. Industry everywhere
tends to assume a form in which one is master and many serve. And when
one is master and the others serve, the one will control the others,
even in such matters as votes. Just as the English landlord votes his
tenants, so does the New England mill owner vote his operatives.
There is no mistaking it—the very foundations of society are being
sapped before our eyes, while we ask, _how_ is it possible that such
a civilization as this, with its railroads, and daily newspapers,
and electric telegraphs, should ever be destroyed? While literature
breathes but the belief that we have been, are, and for the future must
be, leaving the savage state further and further behind us, there are
indications that we are actually turning back again toward barbarism.
Let me illustrate: One of the characteristics of barbarism is the low
regard for the rights of person and of property. That the laws of our
Anglo-Saxon ancestors imposed as penalty for murder a fine proportioned
to the rank of the victim, while our law knows no distinction of rank,
and protects the lowest from the highest, the poorest from the richest,
by the uniform penalty of death, is looked upon as evidence of their
barbarism and our civilization. And so, that piracy, and robbery, and
slave-trading, and blackmailing, were once regarded as legitimate
occupations, is conclusive proof of the rude state of development from
which we have so far progressed.
But it is a matter of fact that, in spite of our laws, any one who has
money enough and wants to kill another may go into any one of our great
centers of population and business, and gratify his desire, and then
surrender himself to justice, with the chances as a hundred to one that
he will suffer no greater penalty than a temporary imprisonment and the
loss of a sum proportioned partly to his own wealth and partly to the
wealth and standing of the man he kills. His money will be paid, not to
the family of the murdered man, who have lost their protector; not to
the state, which has lost a citizen; but to lawyers who understand how
to secure delays, to find witnesses, and get juries to disagree.
And so, if a man steal enough, he may be sure that his punishment will
practically amount but to the loss of a part of the proceeds of his
theft; and if he steal enough to get off with a fortune, he will be
greeted by his acquaintances as a viking might have been greeted after
a successful cruise. Even though he robbed those who trusted him; even
though he robbed the widow and the fatherless; he has only to get
enough, and he may safely flaunt his wealth in the eyes of day.
Now, the tendency in this direction is an increasing one. It is shown
in greatest force where the inequalities in the distribution of wealth
are greatest, and it shows itself as they increase. If it be not a
return to barbarism, what is it? The failures of justice to which I
have alluded are only illustrative of the increasing debility of our
legal machinery in every department. It is becoming common to hear
men say that it would be better to revert to first principles and
abolish law, for then in self-defense the people would form Vigilance
Committees and take justice into their own hands. Is this indicative of
advance or retrogression?
All this is matter of common observation. Though we may not speak it
openly, the general faith in republican institutions is, where they
have reached their fullest development, narrowing and weakening. It
is no longer that confident belief in republicanism as the source of
national blessings that it once was. Thoughtful men are beginning to
see its dangers, without seeing how to escape them; are beginning to
accept the view of Macaulay and distrust that of Jefferson.[64] And the
people at large are becoming used to the growing corruption. The most
ominous political sign in the United States to-day is the growth of a
sentiment which either doubts the existence of an honest man in public
office or looks on him as a fool for not seizing his opportunities.
That is to say, the people themselves are becoming corrupted. Thus in
the United States to-day is republican government running the course
it must inevitably follow under conditions which cause the unequal
distribution of wealth.
Where that course leads is clear to whoever will think. As corruption
becomes chronic; as public spirit is lost; as traditions of honor,
virtue, and patriotism are weakened; as law is brought into contempt
and reforms become hopeless; then in the festering mass will be
generated volcanic forces, which shatter and rend when seeming accident
gives them vent. Strong, unscrupulous men, rising up upon occasion,
will become the exponents of blind popular desires or fierce popular
passions, and dash aside forms that have lost their vitality. The sword
will again be mightier than the pen, and in carnivals of destruction
brute force and wild frenzy will alternate with the lethargy of a
declining civilization.
I speak of the United States only because the United States is the most
advanced of all the great nations. What shall we say of Europe, where
dams of ancient law and custom pen up the swelling waters and standing
armies weigh down the safety valves, though year by year the fires
grow hotter underneath? Europe tends to republicanism under conditions
that will not admit of true republicanism—under conditions that
substitute for the calm and august figure of Liberty the petroleuse and
the guillotine!
Whence shall come the new barbarians? Go through the squalid quarters
of great cities, and you may see, even now, their gathering hordes! How
shall learning perish? Men will cease to read, and books will kindle
fires and be turned into cartridges!
It is startling to think how slight the traces that would be left of
our civilization did it pass through the throes which have accompanied
the decline of every previous civilization. Paper will not last like
parchment, nor are our most massive buildings and monuments to be
compared in solidity with the rock-hewn temples and titanic edifices of
the old civilizations.[65] And invention has given us, not merely the
steam engine and the printing press, but petroleum, nitro-glycerine,
and dynamite.
Yet to hint, to-day, that our civilization may possibly be tending to
decline, seems like the wildness of pessimism. The special tendencies
to which I have alluded are obvious to thinking men, but with the
majority of thinking men, as with the great masses, the belief in
substantial progress is yet deep and strong—a fundamental belief which
admits not the shadow of a doubt.
But any one who will think over the matter will see that this
must necessarily be the case where advance gradually passes into
retrogression. For in social development, as in everything else, motion
tends to persist in straight lines, and therefore, where there has been
a previous advance, it is extremely difficult to recognize decline,
even when it has fully commenced; there is an almost irresistible
tendency to believe that the forward movement which has been advance,
and is still going on, is still advance. The web of beliefs, customs,
laws, institutions, and habits of thought, which each community is
constantly spinning, and which produces in the individual environed
by it all the differences of national character, is never unraveled.
That is to say, in the decline of civilization, communities do not go
down by the same paths that they came up. For instance, the decline of
civilization as manifested in government would not take us back from
republicanism to constitutional monarchy, and thence to the feudal
system; it would take us to imperatorship and anarchy. As manifested in
religion, it would not take us back into the faiths of our forefathers,
into Protestantism or Catholicity, but into new forms of superstition,
of which possibly Mormonism and other even grosser “isms” may give some
vague idea. As manifested in knowledge, it would not take us toward
Bacon, but toward the literati of China.
And how the retrogression of civilization, following a period of
advance, may be so gradual as to attract no attention at the time;
nay, how that decline must necessarily, by the great majority of men,
be mistaken for advance, is easily seen. For instance, there is an
enormous difference between Grecian art of the classic period and that
of the lower empire; yet the change was accompanied, or rather caused,
by a change of taste. The artists who most quickly followed this change
of taste were in their day regarded as the superior artists. And so of
literature. As it became more vapid, puerile, and stilted, it would be
in obedience to an altered taste, which would regard its increasing
weakness as increasing strength and beauty. The really good writer
would not find readers; he would be regarded as rude, dry, or dull.
And so would the drama decline; not because there was a lack of good
plays, but because the prevailing taste became more and more that of a
less cultured class, who, of course, regard that which they most admire
as the best of its kind. And so, too, of religion; the superstitions
which a superstitious people will add to it will be regarded by them as
improvements. While, as the decline goes on, the return to barbarism,
where it is not in itself regarded as an advance, will seem necessary
to meet the exigencies of the times.
For instance, flogging, as a punishment for certain offenses, has
been recently restored to the penal code of England, and has been
strongly advocated on this side of the Atlantic. I express no opinion
as to whether this is or is not a better punishment for crime than
imprisonment. I only point to the fact as illustrating how an
increasing amount of crime and an increasing embarrassment as to the
maintenance of prisoners, both obvious tendencies at present, might
lead to a fuller return to the physical cruelty of barbarous codes.
The use of torture in judicial investigations, which steadily grew
with the decline of Roman civilization, it is thus easy to see, might,
as manners brutalized and crime increased, be demanded as a necessary
improvement of the criminal law.
Whether in the present drifts of opinion and taste there are as yet
any indications of retrogression, it is not necessary to inquire; but
there are many things about which there can be no dispute, which go
to show that our civilization has reached a critical period, and that
unless a new start is made in the direction of social equality, the
nineteenth century may to the future mark its climax. These industrial
depressions, which cause as much waste and suffering as famines
or wars, are like the twinges and shocks which precede paralysis.
Everywhere is it evident that the tendency to inequality, which is
the necessary result of material progress where land is monopolized,
cannot go much further without carrying our civilization into that
downward path which is so easy to enter and so hard to abandon.
Everywhere the increasing intensity of the struggle to live, the
increasing necessity for straining every nerve to prevent being thrown
down and trodden under foot in the scramble for wealth, is draining
the forces which gain and maintain improvements. In every civilized
country pauperism, crime, insanity, and suicides are increasing. In
every civilized country the diseases are increasing which come from
overstrained nerves, from insufficient nourishment, from squalid
lodgings, from unwholesome and monotonous occupations, from premature
labor of children, from the tasks and crimes which poverty imposes
upon women. In every highly civilized country the expectation of life,
which gradually rose for several centuries, and which seems to have
culminated about the first quarter of this century, appears to be now
diminishing.[66]
It is not an advancing civilization that such figures show. It is a
civilization which in its undercurrents has already begun to recede.
When the tide turns in bay or river from flood to ebb, it is not all at
once; but here it still runs on, though there it has begun to recede.
When the sun passes the meridian, it can be told only by the way the
short shadows fall; for the heat of the day yet increases. But as sure
as the turning tide must soon run full ebb; as sure as the declining
sun must bring darkness, so sure is it, that though knowledge yet
increases and invention marches on, and new states are being settled,
and cities still expand, yet civilization has begun to wane when, in
proportion to population, we must build more and more prisons, more and
more almshouses, more and more insane asylums. It is not from top to
bottom that societies die; it is from bottom to top.
But there are evidences far more palpable than any that can be given
by statistics, of tendencies to the ebb of civilization. There is a
vague but general feeling of disappointment; an increased bitterness
among the working classes; a widespread feeling of unrest and brooding
revolution. If this were accompanied by a definite idea of how relief
is to be obtained, it would be a hopeful sign; but it is not. Though
the schoolmaster has been abroad some time, the general power of
tracing effect to cause does not seem a whit improved. The reaction
toward protectionism, as the reaction toward other exploded fallacies
of government, shows this.[67] And even the philosophic free-thinker
cannot look upon that vast change in religious ideas that is now
sweeping over the civilized world without feeling that this tremendous
fact may have most momentous relations, which only the future can
develop. For what is going on is not a change in the form of religion,
but the negation and destruction of the ideas from which religion
springs. Christianity is not simply clearing itself of superstitions,
but in the popular mind it is dying at the root, as the old paganisms
were dying when Christianity entered the world. And nothing arises to
take its place. The fundamental ideas of an intelligent Creator and of
a future life are in the general mind rapidly weakening. Now, whether
this may or may not be in itself an advance, the importance of the part
which religion has played in the world’s history shows the importance
of the change that is now going on. Unless human nature has suddenly
altered in what the universal history of the race shows to be its
deepest characteristics, the mightiest actions and reactions are thus
preparing. Such stages of thought have heretofore always marked periods
of transition. On a smaller scale and to a less depth (for I think any
one who will notice the drift of our literature, and talk upon such
subjects with the men he meets, will see that it is sub-soil and not
surface plowing that materialistic ideas are now doing), such a state
of thought preceded the French revolution. But the closest parallel to
the wreck of religious ideas now going on is to be found in that period
in which ancient civilization began to pass from splendor to decline.
What change may come, no mortal man can tell, but that some great
change _must_ come, thoughtful men begin to feel. The civilized world
is trembling on the verge of a great movement. Either it must be a leap
upward, which will open the way to advances yet undreamed of, or it
must be a plunge downward, which will carry us back toward barbarism.
FOOTNOTES:
[64] See Macaulay’s letter to Randall, the biographer of Jefferson.
[65] It is also, it seems to me, instructive to note how inadequate and
utterly misleading would be the idea of our civilization which could be
gained from the religious and funereal monuments of our time, which are
all we have from which to gain our ideas of the buried civilizations.
[66] Statistics which show these things are collected in convenient
form in a volume entitled “Deterioration and Race Education,” by Samuel
Royce, which has been largely distributed by the venerable Peter Cooper
of New York. Strangely enough, the only remedy proposed by Mr. Royce is
the establishment of Kindergarten schools.
[67] In point of constructive statesmanship—the recognition of
fundamental principles and the adaptation of means to ends, the
Constitution of the United States, adopted a century ago, is greatly
superior to the latest State Constitutions, the most recent of which is
that of California—a piece of utter botchwork.
CHAPTER V.
THE CENTRAL TRUTH.
In the short space to which this latter part of our inquiry is
necessarily confined, I have been obliged to omit much that I would
like to say, and to touch briefly where an exhaustive consideration
would not be out of place.
Nevertheless, this, at least, is evident, that the truth to which we
were led in the politico-economic branch of our inquiry is as clearly
apparent in the rise and fall of nations and the growth and decay of
civilizations, and that it accords with those deep-seated recognitions
of relation and sequence that we denominate moral perceptions. Thus
have been given to our conclusions the greatest certitude and highest
sanction.
This truth involves both a menace and a promise. It shows that the
evils arising from the unjust and unequal distribution of wealth, which
are becoming more and more apparent as modern civilization goes on, are
not incidents of progress, but tendencies which must bring progress to
a halt; that they will not cure themselves, but, on the contrary, must,
unless their cause is removed, grow greater and greater, until they
sweep us back into barbarism by the road every previous civilization
has trod. But it also shows that these evils are not imposed by natural
laws; that they spring solely from social mal-adjustments which ignore
natural laws, and that in removing their cause we shall be giving an
enormous impetus to progress.
The poverty which in the midst of abundance pinches and imbrutes men,
and all the manifold evils which flow from it, spring from a denial of
justice. In permitting the monopolization of the opportunities which
nature freely offers to all, we have ignored the fundamental law of
justice—for, so far as we can see, when we view things upon a large
scale, justice seems to be the supreme law of the universe. But by
sweeping away this injustice and asserting the rights of all men to
natural opportunities, we shall conform ourselves to the law—we shall
remove the great cause of unnatural inequality in the distribution of
wealth and power; we shall abolish poverty; tame the ruthless passions
of greed; dry up the springs of vice and misery; light in dark places
the lamp of knowledge; give new vigor to invention and a fresh impulse
to discovery; substitute political strength for political weakness; and
make tyranny and anarchy impossible.
The reform I have proposed accords with all that is politically,
socially, or morally desirable. It has the qualities of a true reform,
for it will make all other reforms easier. What is it but the carrying
out in letter and spirit of the truth enunciated in the Declaration of
Independence—the “self-evident” truth that is the heart and soul of the
Declaration—“_That all men are created equal; that they are endowed by
their Creator with certain unalienable rights; that among these are
life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness!_”
These rights are denied when the equal right to land—on which and
by which men alone can live—is denied. Equality of political rights
will not compensate for the denial of the equal right to the bounty
of nature. Political liberty, when the equal right to land is denied,
becomes, as population increases and invention goes on, merely the
liberty to compete for employment at starvation wages. This is the
truth that we have ignored. And so there come beggars in our streets
and tramps on our roads; and poverty enslaves men whom we boast are
political sovereigns; and want breeds ignorance that our schools
cannot enlighten; and citizens vote as their masters dictate; and the
demagogue usurps the part of the statesman; and gold weighs in the
scales of justice; and in high places sit those who do not pay to
civic virtue even the compliment of hypocrisy; and the pillars of the
republic that we thought so strong already bend under an increasing
strain.
We honor Liberty in name and in form. We set up her statues and sound
her praises. But we have not fully trusted her. And with our growth so
grow her demands. She will have no half service!
Liberty! it is a word to conjure with, not to vex the ear in empty
boastings. For Liberty means Justice, and Justice is the natural
law—the law of health and symmetry and strength, of fraternity and
co-operation.
They who look upon Liberty as having accomplished her mission when
she has abolished hereditary privileges and given men the ballot, who
think of her as having no further relations to the everyday affairs of
life, have not seen her real grandeur—to them the poets who have sung
of her must seem rhapsodists, and her martyrs fools! As the sun is
the lord of life, as well as of light; as his beams not merely pierce
the clouds, but support all growth, supply all motion, and call forth
from what would otherwise be a cold and inert mass all the infinite
diversities of being and beauty, so is liberty to mankind. It is not
for an abstraction that men have toiled and died; that in every age the
witnesses of Liberty have stood forth, and the martyrs of Liberty have
suffered.
We speak of Liberty as one thing, and of virtue, wealth, knowledge,
invention, national strength and national independence as other things.
But, of all these, Liberty is the source, the mother, the necessary
condition. She is to virtue what light is to color; to wealth what
sunshine is to grain; to knowledge what eyes are to sight. She is the
genius of invention, the brawn of national strength, the spirit of
national independence. Where Liberty rises, there virtue grows, wealth
increases, knowledge expands, invention multiplies human powers, and in
strength and spirit the freer nation rises among her neighbors as Saul
amid his brethren—taller and fairer. Where Liberty sinks, there virtue
fades, wealth diminishes, knowledge is forgotten, invention ceases, and
empires once mighty in arms and arts become a helpless prey to freer
barbarians!
Only in broken gleams and partial light has the sun of Liberty yet
beamed among men, but all progress hath she called forth.
Liberty came to a race of slaves crouching under Egyptian whips, and
led them forth from the House of Bondage. She hardened them in the
desert and made of them a race of conquerors. The free spirit of the
Mosaic law took their thinkers up to heights where they beheld the
unity of God, and inspired their poets with strains that yet phrase the
highest exaltations of thought. Liberty dawned on the Phœnician coast,
and ships passed the Pillars of Hercules to plow the unknown sea. She
shed a partial light on Greece, and marble grew to shapes of ideal
beauty, words became the instruments of subtlest thought, and against
the scanty militia of free cities the countless hosts of the Great King
broke like surges against a rock. She cast her beams on the four-acre
farms of Italian husbandmen, and born of her strength a power came
forth that conquered the world. They glinted from shields of German
warriors, and Augustus wept his legions. Out of the night that followed
her eclipse, her slanting rays fell again on free cities, and a lost
learning revived, modern civilization began, a new world was unveiled;
and as Liberty grew, so grew art, wealth, power, knowledge, and
refinement. In the history of every nation we may read the same truth.
It was the strength born of Magna Charta that won Crecy and Agincourt.
It was the revival of Liberty from the despotism of the Tudors that
glorified the Elizabethan age. It was the spirit that brought a crowned
tyrant to the block that planted here the seed of a mighty tree. It was
the energy of ancient freedom that, the moment it had gained unity,
made Spain the mightiest power of the world, only to fall to the lowest
depth of weakness when tyranny succeeded liberty. See, in France, all
intellectual vigor dying under the tyranny of the Seventeenth Century
to revive in splendor as Liberty awoke in the Eighteenth, and on the
enfranchisement of French peasants in the Great Revolution, basing the
wonderful strength that has in our time defied defeat.
Shall we not trust her?
In our time, as in times before, creep on the insidious forces that,
producing inequality, destroy Liberty. On the horizon the clouds begin
to lower. Liberty calls to us again. We must follow her further; we
must trust her fully. Either we must wholly accept her or she will not
stay. It is not enough that men should vote; it is not enough that they
should be theoretically equal before the law. They must have liberty
to avail themselves of the opportunities and means of life; they must
stand on equal terms with reference to the bounty of nature. Either
this, or Liberty withdraws her light! Either this, or darkness comes
on, and the very forces that progress has evolved turn to powers that
work destruction. This is the universal law. This is the lesson of
the centuries. Unless its foundations be laid in justice the social
structure cannot stand.
Our primary social adjustment is a denial of justice. In allowing one
man to own the land on which and from which other men must live, we
have made them his bondsmen in a degree which increases as material
progress goes on. This is the subtile alchemy that in ways they do
not realize is extracting from the masses in every civilized country
the fruits of their weary toil; that is instituting a harder and more
hopeless slavery in place of that which has been destroyed; that is
bringing political despotism out of political freedom, and must soon
transmute democratic institutions into anarchy.
It is this that turns the blessings of material progress into a curse.
It is this that crowds human beings into noisome cellars and squalid
tenement houses; that fills prisons and brothels; that goads men with
want and consumes them with greed; that robs women of the grace and
beauty of perfect womanhood; that takes from little children the joy
and innocence of life’s morning.
Civilization so based cannot continue. The eternal laws of the universe
forbid it. Ruins of dead empires testify, and the witness that is in
every soul answers, that it cannot be. It is something grander than
Benevolence, something more august than Charity—it is Justice herself
that demands of us to right this wrong. Justice that will not be
denied; that cannot be put off—Justice that with the scales carries
the sword. Shall we ward the stroke with liturgies and prayers? Shall
we avert the decrees of immutable law by raising churches when hungry
infants moan and weary mothers weep?
Though it may take the language of prayer, it is blasphemy that
attributes to the inscrutable decrees of Providence the suffering and
brutishness that come of poverty; that turns with folded hands to the
All-Father and lays on Him the responsibility for the want and crime of
our great cities. We degrade the Everlasting. We slander the Just One.
A merciful man would have better ordered the world; a just man would
crush with his foot such an ulcerous anthill! It is not the Almighty,
but we who are responsible for the vice and misery that fester amid our
civilization. The Creator showers upon us his gifts—more than enough
for all. But like swine scrambling for food, we tread them in the
mire—tread them in the mire, while we tear and rend each other!
In the very centers of our civilization to-day are want and suffering
enough to make sick at heart whoever does not close his eyes and steel
his nerves. Dare we turn to the Creator and ask Him to relieve it?
Supposing the prayer were heard, and at the behest with which the
universe sprang into being there should glow in the sun a greater
power; new virtue fill the air; fresh vigor the soil; that for every
blade of grass that now grows two should spring up, and the seed that
now increases fifty-fold should increase a hundred-fold! Would poverty
be abated or want relieved? Manifestly no! Whatever benefit would
accrue would be but temporary. The new powers streaming through the
material universe could be utilized only through land. And land, being
private property, the classes that now monopolize the bounty of the
Creator would monopolize all the new bounty. Land owners would alone
be benefited. Rents would increase, but wages would still tend to the
starvation point!
This is not merely a deduction of political economy; it is a fact
of experience. We know it because we have seen it. Within our own
times, under our very eyes, that Power which is above all, and in all,
and through all; that Power of which the whole universe is but the
manifestation; that Power which maketh all things, and without which is
not anything made that is made, has increased the bounty which men may
enjoy, as truly as though the fertility of nature had been increased.
Into the mind of one came the thought that harnessed steam for the
service of mankind. To the inner ear of another was whispered the
secret that compels the lightning to bear a message round the globe.
In every direction have the laws of matter been revealed; in every
department of industry have arisen arms of iron and fingers of steel,
whose effect upon the production of wealth has been precisely the same
as an increase in the fertility of nature. What has been the result?
Simply that land owners get all the gain. The wonderful discoveries and
inventions of our century have neither increased wages nor lightened
toil. The effect has simply been to make the few richer; the many more
helpless!
Can it be that the gifts of the Creator may be thus misappropriated
with impunity? Is it a light thing that labor should be robbed of its
earnings while greed rolls in wealth—that the many should want while
the few are surfeited? Turn to history, and on every page may be read
the lesson that such wrong never goes unpunished; that the Nemesis that
follows injustice never falters nor sleeps! Look around to-day. Can
this state of things continue? May we even say, “After us the deluge!”
Nay; the pillars of the state are trembling even now, and the very
foundations of society begin to quiver with pent-up forces that glow
underneath. The struggle that must either revivify, or convulse in
ruin, is near at hand, if it be not already begun.
The fiat has gone forth! With steam and electricity, and the new powers
born of progress, forces have entered the world that will either
compel us to a higher plane or overwhelm us, as nation after nation,
as civilization after civilization, have been overwhelmed before. It
is the delusion which precedes destruction that sees in the popular
unrest with which the civilized world is feverishly pulsing only the
passing effect of ephemeral causes. Between democratic ideas and
the aristocratic adjustments of society there is an irreconcilable
conflict. Here in the United States, as there in Europe, it may be seen
arising. We cannot go on permitting men to vote and forcing them to
tramp. We cannot go on educating boys and girls in our public schools
and then refusing them the right to earn an honest living. We cannot
go on prating of the inalienable rights of man and then denying the
inalienable right to the bounty of the Creator. Even now, in old
bottles the new wine begins to ferment, and elemental forces gather for
the strife!
But if, while there is yet time, we turn to Justice and obey her,
if we trust Liberty and follow her, the dangers that now threaten
must disappear, the forces that now menace will turn to agencies of
elevation. Think of the powers now wasted; of the infinite fields
of knowledge yet to be explored; of the possibilities of which the
wondrous inventions of this century give us but a hint. With want
destroyed; with greed changed to noble passions; with the fraternity
that is born of equality taking the place of the jealousy and fear
that now array men against each other; with mental power loosed by
conditions that give to the humblest comfort and leisure; and who shall
measure the heights to which our civilization may soar? Words fail the
thought! It is the Golden Age of which poets have sung and high-raised
seers have told in metaphor! It is the glorious vision which has
always haunted man with gleams of fitful splendor. It is what he saw
whose eyes at Patmos were closed in a trance. It is the culmination of
Christianity—the City of God on earth, with its walls of jasper and its
gates of pearl! It is the reign of the Prince of Peace!
CONCLUSION.
THE PROBLEM OF INDIVIDUAL LIFE.
The days of the nations bear no trace
Of all the sunshine so far foretold;
The cannon speaks in the teacher’s place—
The age is weary with work and gold,
And high hopes wither, and memories wane;
On hearths and altars the fires are dead;
But that brave faith hath not lived in vain—
And this is all that our watcher said.
—_Frances Brown._
CONCLUSION.
THE PROBLEM OF INDIVIDUAL LIFE.
My task is done.
Yet the thought still mounts. The problems we have been considering
lead into a problem higher and deeper still. Behind the problems of
social life lies the problem of individual life. I have found it
impossible to think of the one without thinking of the other, and so,
I imagine, will it be with those who, reading this book, go with me
in thought. For, as says Guizot, “when the history of civilization
is completed, when there is nothing more to say as to our present
existence, man inevitably asks himself whether all is exhausted,
whether he has reached the end of all things?”
This problem I cannot now discuss. I speak of it only because the
thought which, while writing this book, has come with inexpressible
cheer to me, may also be of cheer to some who read it; for, whatever
be its fate, it will be read by some who in their heart of hearts
have taken the cross of a new crusade. This thought will come to them
without my suggestion; but we are surer that we see a star when we know
that others also see it.
* * * * *
The truth that I have tried to make clear will not find easy
acceptance. If that could be, it would have been accepted long ago.
If that could be, it would never have been obscured. But it will find
friends—those who will toil for it; suffer for it; if need be, die for
it. This is the power of Truth.
Will it at length prevail? Ultimately, yes. But in our own times, or
in times of which any memory of us remains, who shall say?
For the man who, seeing the want and misery, the ignorance and
brutishness caused by unjust social institutions, sets himself, in so
far as he has strength, to right them, there is disappointment and
bitterness. So it has been of old time. So is it even now. But the
bitterest thought—and it sometimes comes to the best and bravest—is
that of the hopelessness of the effort, the futility of the sacrifice.
To how few of those who sow the seed is it given to see it grow, or
even with certainty to know that it will grow.
Let us not disguise it. Over and over again has the standard of Truth
and Justice been raised in this world. Over and over again has it been
trampled down—oftentimes in blood. If they are weak forces that are
opposed to Truth, how should Error so long prevail? If Justice has but
to raise her head to have Injustice flee before her, how should the
wail of the oppressed so long go up?
But for those who see Truth and would follow her; for those who
recognize Justice and would stand for her, success is not the only
thing. Success! Why, Falsehood has often that to give; and Injustice
often has that to give. Must not Truth and Justice have something to
give that is their own by proper right—theirs in essence, and not by
accident?
That they have, and that here and now, every one who has felt their
exaltation knows. But sometimes the clouds sweep down. It is sad, sad
reading, the lives of the men who would have done something for their
fellows. To Socrates they gave the hemlock; Gracchus they killed with
sticks and stones; and One, greatest and purest of all, they crucified.
These seem but types. To-day Russian prisons are full, and in long
processions, men and women, who, but for high-minded patriotism, might
have lived in ease and luxury, move in chains toward the death-in-life
of Siberia. And in penury and want, in neglect and contempt, destitute
even of the sympathy that would have been so sweet, how many in every
country have closed their eyes? This we see.
_But do we see it all?_
In writing I have picked up a newspaper. In it is a short account,
evidently translated from a semi-official report, of the execution of
three Nihilists at Kieff—the Prussian subject Brandtner, the unknown
man calling himself Antonoff, and the nobleman Ossinsky. At the foot of
the gallows they were permitted to kiss one another. “Then the hangman
cut the rope, the surgeons pronounced the victims dead, the bodies were
buried at the foot of the scaffold, and the Nihilists were given up to
eternal oblivion.” Thus says the account. I do not believe it. No; not
to oblivion!
* * * * *
I have in this inquiry followed the course of my own thought. When, in
mind, I set out on it I had no theory to support, no conclusions to
prove. Only, when I first realized the squalid misery of a great city,
it appalled and tormented me, and would not let me rest, for thinking
of what caused it and how it could be cured.
But out of this inquiry has come to me something I did not think to
find, and a faith that was dead revives.
* * * * *
The yearning for a further life is natural and deep. It grows with
intellectual growth, and perhaps none really feel it more than those
who have begun to see how great is the universe and how infinite are
the vistas which every advance in knowledge opens before us—vistas
which would require nothing short of eternity to explore. But in the
mental atmosphere of our times, to the great majority of men on whom
mere creeds have lost their hold, it seems impossible to look on this
yearning save as a vain and childish hope, arising from man’s egotism,
and for which there is not the slightest ground or warrant, but which,
on the contrary, seems inconsistent with positive knowledge.
Now, when we come to analyze and trace up the ideas that thus destroy
the hope of a future life, we shall find them, I think, to have their
source, not in any revelations of physical science, but in certain
teachings of political and social science which have deeply permeated
thought in all directions. They have their root in the doctrines,
that there is a tendency to the production of more human beings than
can be provided for; that vice and misery are the result of natural
laws, and the means by which advance goes on; and that human progress
is by a slow race development. These doctrines, which have been
generally accepted as approved truth, do what, except as scientific
interpretations have been colored by them, the extensions of physical
science do not do—they reduce the individual to insignificance; they
destroy the idea that there can be in the ordering of the universe any
regard for his existence, or any recognition of what we call moral
qualities.
It is difficult to reconcile the idea of human immortality with the
idea that nature wastes men by constantly bringing them into being
where there is no room for them. It is impossible to reconcile the
idea of an intelligent and beneficent Creator with the belief that
the wretchedness and degradation which are the lot of such a large
proportion of human kind result from his enactments; while the idea
that man mentally and physically is the result of slow modifications
perpetuated by heredity, irresistibly suggests the idea that it is
the race life, not the individual life, which is the object of human
existence. Thus has vanished with many of us, and is still vanishing
with more of us, that belief which in the battles and ills of life
affords the strongest support and deepest consolation.
Now, in the inquiry through which we have passed, we have met these
doctrines and seen their fallacy. We have seen that population does not
tend to outrun subsistence; we have seen that the waste of human powers
and the prodigality of human suffering do not spring from natural laws,
but from the ignorance and selfishness of men in refusing to conform
to natural laws. We have seen that human progress is not by altering
the nature of men; but that, on the contrary, the nature of men seems,
generally speaking, always the same.
Thus the nightmare which is banishing from the modern world the
belief in a future life is destroyed. Not that all difficulties
are removed—for turn which way we may, we come to what we cannot
comprehend; but that difficulties are removed which seem conclusive and
insuperable. And, thus, hope springs up.
But this is not all.
* * * * *
Political Economy has been called the dismal science, and as currently
taught, _is_ hopeless and despairing. But this, as we have seen,
is solely because she has been degraded and shackled; her truths
dislocated; her harmonies ignored; the word she would utter gagged in
her mouth, and her protest against wrong turned into an indorsement
of injustice. Freed, as I have tried to free her—in her own proper
symmetry, Political Economy is radiant with hope.
For properly understood, the laws which govern the production and
distribution of wealth show that the want and injustice of the present
social state are not necessary; but that, on the contrary, a social
state is possible in which poverty would be unknown, and all the better
qualities and higher powers of human nature would have opportunity for
full development.
And, further than this, when we see that social development is governed
neither by a Special Providence nor by a merciless fate, but by law,
at once unchangeable and beneficent; when we see that human will is
the great factor, and that taking men in the aggregate, their condition
is as they make it; when we see that economic law and moral law are
essentially one, and that the truth which the intellect grasps after
toilsome effort is but that which the moral sense reaches by a quick
intuition, a flood of light breaks in upon the problem of individual
life. These countless millions like ourselves, who on this earth of
ours have passed and still are passing, with their joys and sorrows,
their toil and their striving, their aspirations and their fears, their
strong perceptions of things deeper than sense, their common feelings
which form the basis even of the most divergent creeds—their little
lives do not seem so much like meaningless waste.
The great fact which Science in all her branches shows is the
universality of law. Wherever he can trace it, whether in the fall
of an apple or in the revolution of binary suns, the astronomer sees
the working of the same law, which operates in the minutest divisions
in which we may distinguish space, as it does in the immeasurable
distances with which his science deals. Out of that which lies beyond
his telescope comes a moving body and again it disappears. So far as
he can trace its course the law is ignored. Does he say that this is
an exception? On the contrary, he says that this is merely a part of
its orbit that he has seen; that beyond the reach of his telescope the
law holds good. He makes his calculations, and after centuries they are
proved.
Now, if we trace out the laws which govern human life in society,
we find that in the largest as in the smallest community, they are
the same. We find that what seem at first sight like divergences and
exceptions are but manifestations of the same principles. And we find
that everywhere we can trace it, the social law runs into and conforms
with the moral law; that in the life of a community, justice infallibly
brings its reward and injustice its punishment. But this we cannot
see in individual life. If we look merely at individual life we cannot
see that the laws of the universe have the slightest relation to good
or bad, to right or wrong, to just or unjust.[68] Shall we then say
that the law which is manifest in social life is not true of individual
life? It is not scientific to say so. We would not say so in reference
to anything else. Shall we not rather say this simply proves that we do
not see the whole of individual life?
* * * * *
The laws which Political Economy discovers, like the facts and
relations of physical nature, harmonize with what seems to be the law
of mental development—not a necessary and involuntary progress, but a
progress in which the human will is an initiatory force. But in life,
as we are cognizant of it, mental development can go but a little
way. The mind hardly begins to awake ere the bodily powers decline—it
but becomes dimly conscious of the vast fields before it, but begins
to learn and use its strength, to recognize relations and extend its
sympathies, when, with the death of the body, it passes away. Unless
there is something more, there seems here a break, a failure. Whether
it be a Humboldt or a Herschel, a Moses who looks from Pisgah, a Joshua
who leads the host, or one of those sweet and patient souls who in
narrow circles live radiant lives, there seems, if mind and character
here developed can go no further, a purposelessness inconsistent with
what we can see of the linked sequence of the universe.
By a fundamental law of our minds—the law, in fact, upon which
Political Economy relies in all her deductions—we cannot conceive
of a means without an end; a contrivance without an object. Now, to
all nature, so far as we come in contact with it in this world, the
support and employment of the intelligence that is in man furnishes
such an end and object. But unless man himself may rise to or bring
forth something higher, his existence is unintelligible. So strong
is this metaphysical necessity that those who deny to the individual
anything more than this life are compelled to transfer the idea of
perfectibility to the race. But as we have seen, and the argument could
have been made much more complete, there is nothing whatever to show
any essential race improvement. Human progress is not the improvement
of human nature. The advances in which civilization consists are not
secured in the constitution of man, but in the constitution of society.
They are thus not fixed and permanent, but may at any time be lost—nay,
are constantly tending to be lost. And further than this, if human
life does not continue beyond what we see of it here, then we are
confronted, with regard to the race, with the same difficulty as with
the individual! For it is as certain that the race must die as it is
that the individual must die. We know that there have been geologic
conditions under which human life was impossible on this earth. We know
that they must return again. Even now, as the earth circles on her
appointed orbit, the northern ice cap slowly thickens, and the time
gradually approaches, when its glaciers will flow again, and austral
seas, sweeping northward, bury the seats of present civilization under
ocean wastes, as it may be they now bury what was once as high a
civilization as our own, And beyond these periods, science discerns
a dead earth, an exhausted sun—a time when, clashing together, the
solar system shall resolve itself into a gaseous form, again to begin
immeasurable mutations.
* * * * *
What then is the meaning of life—of life absolutely and inevitably
bounded by death? To me it seems intelligible only as the avenue and
vestibule to another life. And its facts seem explainable only upon a
theory which cannot be expressed but in myth and symbol, and which,
everywhere and at all times, the myths and symbols in which men have
tried to portray their deepest perceptions do in some form express.
The scriptures of the men who have been and gone—the Bibles, the Zend
Avestas, the Vedas, the Dhammapadas, and the Korans; the esoteric
doctrines of old philosophies, the inner meaning of grotesque
religions, the dogmatic constitutions of Ecumenical Councils, the
preachings of Foxes, and Wesleys, and Savonarolas, the traditions of
red Indians, and beliefs of black savages, have a heart and core in
which they agree—a something which seems like the variously distorted
apprehensions of a primary truth. And out of the chain of thought we
have been following there seems vaguely to rise a glimpse of what
they vaguely saw—a shadowy gleam of ultimate relations, the endeavor
to express which inevitably falls into type and allegory. A garden in
which are set the trees of good and evil. A vineyard in which there is
the Master’s work to do. A passage—from life behind to life beyond. A
trial and a struggle, of which we cannot see the end.
Look around to-day.
Lo! here, now, in our civilized society, the old allegories yet have a
meaning, the old myths are still true. Into the Valley of the Shadow of
Death yet often leads the path of duty, through the streets of Vanity
Fair walk Christian and Faithful, and on Greatheart’s armor ring the
clanging blows. Ormuzd still fights with Ahriman—the Prince of Light
with the Powers of Darkness. He who will hear, to him the clarions of
the battle call.
How they call, and call, and call, till the heart swells that hears
them! Strong soul and high endeavor, the world needs them now. Beauty
still lies imprisoned, and iron wheels go over the good and true and
beautiful that might spring from human lives.
And they who fight with Ormuzd, though they may not know each
other—somewhere, sometime, will the muster roll be called.
* * * * *
Though Truth and Right seem often overborne, we may not see it all.
How can we see it all? All that is passing, even here, we cannot tell.
The vibrations of matter which give the sensations of light and color
become to us indistinguishable when they pass a certain point. It
is only within a like range that we have cognizance of sounds. Even
animals have senses which we have not. And, here? Compared with the
solar system our earth is but an indistinguishable speck; and the solar
system itself shrivels into nothingness when gauged with the star
depths. Shall we say that what passes from _our_ sight passes into
oblivion? No; not into oblivion. Far, far beyond our ken the eternal
laws must hold their sway.
* * * * *
The hope that rises is the heart of all religions! The poets have
sung it, the seers have told it, and in its deepest pulses the heart
of man throbs responsive to its truth. This, that Plutarch said, is
what in all times and in all tongues has been said by the pure hearted
and strong sighted, who, standing as it were, on the mountain tops of
thought and looking over the shadowy ocean, have beheld the loom of
land:
“_Men’s souls, encompassed here with bodies and passions, have no
communication with God, except what they can reach to in conception
only, by means of philosophy, as by a kind of an obscure dream. But
when they are loosed from the body, and removed into the unseen,
invisible, impassable, and pure region, this God is then their leader
and king; they there, as it were, hanging on him wholly, and beholding
without weariness and passionately affecting that beauty which cannot
be expressed or uttered by men._
FOOTNOTES:
[68] Let us not delude our children. If for no other reason than for
that which Plato gives, that when they come to discard that which we
told them as pious fable they will also discard that which we told them
as truth. The virtues which relate to self do generally bring their
reward. Either a merchant or a thief will be more successful if he be
sober, prudent, and faithful to his promises; but as to the virtues
which do not relate to self—
“It seems a story from the world of spirits,
When any one obtains that which he merits,
Or any merits that which he obtains.”
INDEX.
Bagehot, Walter, arrest of civilization, 480-481;
why barbarians waste away, 497-498.
Bastiat, cause of interest, 176-186.
Bisset, Andrew, knight’s service, 381_n_.
Buckle, assumes current doctrine of wages, 18;
on Malthus, 92-93, 100;
interest and profits, 158;
relation between rent, wages and interest, 170.
Cairnes, J. E., high wages and interest in new countries, 20-22.
California, economic principles exemplified in, 19-20, 61-63, 78,
144-146, 174, 255-256, 271-275, 290-291, 344, 383-385, 392, 398,
434-435.
Capital, current doctrine of its relation to wages, 17-18;
idle in industrial depressions, 21;
theory that wages are drawn from, 20-23;
deductions from this theory, 24-25;
varying definitions of, 32-34;
difficulties besetting use of term, 36-37;
exclusions of term, 37-38;
distinguished from wealth, 41-47, 71-72;
used in two senses, 56-57;
definitions of Smith, Ricardo, McCulloch, and Mill compared, 41-45;
wages not drawn from, 23-29, 49-69;
does not limit industry, 26-29, 57-58, 80-86;
does not maintain laborers, 70-78;
modes in which it aids labor, 79, 186-188, 195-196;
real functions of, 79-87;
may limit form and productiveness of industry, 80-82;
apparent want of generally due to some other want, 82-85;
limited by requirements of production, 85-86;
poverty not due to scarcity of, 85-86;
not necessary to production, 163-164;
a form of labor, 164, 198, 203;
its essence, 179;
spurious, 189-194;
not fixed in quantity, 195;
if the only active factor in production, 201-202;
its profits as affected by wages, 308-309;
wastes when not used, 311;
invested upon possessory titles, 385.
Carey, Henry C., on capital, 34;
rent, 225.
China, cause of poverty and famine, 121-122;
civilization, 480-481.
Civilization, what, 475-476;
prevailing belief as to progress of, 476-479;
arrest of, 479-486;
differences in, 487-502;
its law, 503-523;
retrogression, 482-486, 536-537;
to endure must be based on justice, 543-546;
character of European, 518, 526.
Civilization, modern, its riddle, 10;
has not improved condition of the lowest class, 281-284;
development of, 372-382;
superiority, 519-520;
may decline, 524-528;
indications of retrogression, 537-540;
its possibilities, 452-469, 549.
Communities, industrial, extent of, 197.
Confucius, descendants of, 111-112.
Consumption, supported by contemporaneous production, 72-75;
demand for determines production, 75-76;
only relative term, 133;
increase of shows increasing production, 149.
Co-operation, not a remedy for poverty, 314-317;
but will follow from the extirpation of poverty, 452-469.
Debts, public, not capital, 189-190;
origin and abolition, 381-382, 453.
Demand, not fixed, 243, 245-247. (See Supply and Demand.)
Deutsch, Emanuel, human nature, 495.
Development, concentration the order of, 325.
Development Philosophy, relations to Malthusianism, 100-101;
insufficiency of, 473-486.
Discount, high rates of, not interest, 21_n_.
Distribution, terms of exclusive, 37, 38, 162;
laws of, 153-222;
their necessary relation, 160-164;
as currently taught, 160-161;
contrasted with true laws, 218;
equality of, 450-451.
Education no remedy for poverty, 305-306.
Exchange, functions of, 27-29, 76-77;
a part of production, 47;
brings increase, 182-183, 186-187;
extends with progress of civilization, 197;
promotes civilization, 508-509.
Exchanges, credit in, 276-277;
effect of wages on international, 309-310.
Fawcett, Prof., Indian expenditures, 120_n_;
value of land in England, 287.
Fawcett, Mrs., laborers maintained by capital, 70;
land tax, 421.
Feudal system, recognition of common rights to land, 372-375, 381;
infeudation, 396-397.
Fortunes, great, 193-194, 386-387, 451.
Franklin, Benjamin, his economy, 303.
Government, improvements in increase production, 227, 252;
will not relieve poverty, 298-301;
simplification and change of character, 452-469;
tendency to republicanism, 526-527;
transition to despotism, 301, 527-528.
Guizot, Europe after fall of Roman Empire, 372-373;
the question that arises from a review of civilization, 553.
Hyndman, H. M., Indian famine, 119-120.
Improvements in the arts, effect upon distribution, 242-252;
in habits of industry and thrift, will not relieve poverty, 301-308;
upon land, their value separable from land values, 341-342, 422-423.
India, cause of poverty and famine, 114-121;
civilization, 480, 481, 497.
Industrial depressions, extent and significance,
5-6, 537-538;
conflicting opinions as to cause, 10-11;
their cause and course, 261-279;
connection with railroad building, 272-274;
passing away, 279.
Industry, not limited by capital, 26, 56-57;
may be limited in form and productiveness by capital, 80-86.
Interest, confusion of term with profits, 156-163;
proper signification, 161-162;
variations in, 174;
cause of, 174-188;
justice of, 187;
profits mistaken for, 189-194;
law of, 195-203;
normal point of, 198-199;
formulation of law, 202.
Interest and wages, evident connection, 19-21;
relation, 171-172, 199-203, 218;
why higher in new countries, 221.
Inventions, labor-saving, failure to relieve poverty, 3-5;
advantage of goes primarily to labor, 179, 195-196;
except when not diffused, 251;
effect of, 242-252;
brought forth by freedom, 521-523.
Ireland, cause of poverty and famine, 123-128;
effect of introduction of potato, 303-304.
Labor, purpose of, 27-29, 244-245, 396;
meaning of term, 37-38;
produces wages, 27-29, 49-69;
precedes wages, 55-58;
employs capital, 163, 195;
eliminated from production, 201-202;
productiveness varies with natural powers, 205;
no fixed barriers between occupations, 210-211;
value of reduced by value of land, 221-222;
supply and demand, 268-269;
land necessary to, 270, 292-294;
cause of want of employment, 271-272;
family, 304;
combination, 308-314;
only rightful basis of property, 332-335;
efficiency increases with wages, 441-442;
not in itself repugnant, 465.
Labor and Capital, different forms of same thing, 163-164, 198, 203;
whence idea of their conflict arises, 189, 194;
harmony of interests, 198-203.
Laborers, not maintained by capital, 70-78;
where land is monopolized, have no interest in increase of
productive power, 281;
made more dependent by civilization, 281-284;
organizations of, 308-314;
condition not improved by division of land, 321-325;
their enslavement the ultimate result of private property in
land, 345-355.
Land, meaning of term, 37;
value of is not wealth, 39, 165-166;
diminishing productiveness cited in support Malthusian theory, 97;
how far true, 133-134, 228-241;
maintenance of prices, 274-275;
estimated value of in England, 287;
effects of monopolization in England, 288-289;
relation of man to, 292-294;
division of will not relieve poverty, 319-325;
tendency to concentration in ownership, 319-321;
necessity for abolishing private ownership, 326-327;
injustice of private property in, 331-392;
absurdity of legal titles to, 340, 342-344;
aristocracy and serfdom spring from ownership of, 294, 348-355,
514-515;
purchase by government, 357-358;
development of private ownership, 366-382;
commons, 375-376;
tenures in the United States, 383-392;
private ownership inconsistent with best use, 395-400;
how may be made common property, 401-427;
effects of this, 452-469;
increase of productiveness from better distribution of population,
449_n_.
Land owners, power of, 167, 292-294, 345-355;
ease of their combination, 312-313;
their claims to compensation, 356-365;
will not be injured by confiscation of rent, 445-469.
Latimer, Hugh, increase of rent in Sixteenth Century, 288-289.
Laveleye, M. de, on small land holdings, 324-325;
primitive land tenures, 369;
Teutonic equality, 372.
Lawyers, confusions in their terminology, 335-336;
their inculcation of the sacredness of property, 366;
influence on land tenures, 370_n_.
Life, quantity of human, 109-110;
limits to, 129-134;
reproductive power gives increase to capital, 181;
balance of, 196-197;
meaning of, 561.
Macaulay, English rule in India, 116;
future of United States, 534.
Machinery. (See Inventions.)
McCulloch, on wages fund, 22-23_n_;
definition of capital, 33-34;
compared, 42-44;
principle of increase, 101;
Irish poverty and distress, 125-126;
rent, 232;
tax on rent, 420, 422-425.
Malthus, purpose of Essay on Population, 98;
its absurdities, 104-105, 137;
his other works treated with contempt, 105-106_n_;
fall of wages in Sixteenth Century, 288;
cause of his popularity, 98-100, 336-337_n_.
Malthusian Theory, stated, examined and disproved, 91-150;
as stated by Malthus, 93-94;
as stated by Mill, 94-95, 140-141;
in its strongest form, 95;
its triumph and the causes, 95-96;
harmonizes with ideas of working classes, 98;
defends inequality and discourages reform, 98-99, 140-141,
336-337_n_;
its extension in development philosophy, 101;
now generally accepted, 101-102;
its illegitimate inferences, 103-139;
facts which disprove it, 140-150;
its support from doctrine of rent, 97, 132-133, 228-229;
effects predicated of increase of population result from
improvements in the arts, 242-252;
the ultimate defense of property in land, 336-337_n_.
Man more than an animal, 129-131, 134-136, 307, 464, 473-475, 492-493;
his power to avail himself of the reproductive forces of nature,
131-132;
primary right and power, 332-333;
desire for approbation, 456-458;
selfishness not the master motive, 460-461;
his infinite desires, 134-136, 243, 245-247, 464-465, 503;
how improves, 475;
idea of national or race life, 485-486;
cause of differences and progress, 487-502;
hereditary transmission, 492-502;
social in his nature, 506.
Mill, John Stuart, definition of capital, 34, 71-72;
industry limited by capital, 56-57_n_, 70-71;
Malthusian doctrine, 94-95, 111;
effect of unrestricted increase of population, 140-141;
confusion as to profits and interest, 158;
law of rent, 168;
wages, 213;
government resumption of increase of land values, 358-360;
influence of Malthusianism, 360-361;
tax on rent, 420-421.
Money, when capital, 45;
in hands of consumer, 46_n_;
confounded with wealth, 60-61;
lack of commodities spoken of as lack of, 266.
Monopolies, profits of, 191-194;
cause of certain, 408-409.
More, Sir Thomas, ejectments of cottagers, 289.
Nature, its reproductive power, 180-182;
utilization of its variations, 182-183, 185-187;
equation between reproduction and destruction, 196-197;
impartiality of, 333-334.
Nicholson, N. A., on capital, 35.
Nightingale, Florence, causes of famine in India, 118-119, 119_n_,
120_n_.
Perry, Arthur Latham, on capital, 34;
rent, 225.
Political Economy, its failure, its nature and its methods, 10-13;
doctrines based upon the theory that wages are drawn from capital,
24-25;
importance of definitions, 30-36;
its terms, abstract terms, 47;
confusion of standard treatises, 56-57, 158-161, 218;
the erroneous standpoint which its investigators have adopted,
162-163;
its fundamental principle, 12, 204, 217, 560;
writers on, stumbling over law of wages, 215-216;
compared with astronomy, 219-220;
deals with general tendencies, 278-279;
admissions in standard works as to property in land, 356-358;
principles not pushed to logical conclusions, 421;
the Physiocrats, 421-422;
unison with moral truth, 230, 484;
its hopefulness, 557;
effect on religious ideas, 555-556.
Population and Subsistence, 91-150. (See Malthusian Theory.)
Population, inferences as to increase, 103-104;
of world, no evidence of increase in, 107-110;
present, 113_n_;
increase of descendants not increase of, 112;
only limited by space, 133-134;
real law of increase, 137-139;
effect of increase upon production and distribution, 228-241;
increase of increases wealth, 140-150;
puts land to intenser uses, 320;
increase in United States, 390.
Poverty, its connection with material progress, 6-10;
failure to explain this, 10-11;
where deepest, 222;
why it accompanies progress, 280-294;
remedy for, 326-328;
springs from injustice, 338-339, 541-542;
its effects, 354, 456-464.
Price, not measured by the necessity of the buyer, 185;
equation of equalizes reward of labor, 204.
Production, same principles obvious in complex as in simple forms,
26-29;
factors of, 37, 162, 203, 270, 292-294;
includes exchange, 47;
the immediate result of labor, 64-67;
directed by demand for consumption, 75;
functions of capital in, 79-87, 162-164;
simple modes of sometimes most efficient, 84-85;
only relative term, 133;
increased shown by increased consumption, 149;
meaning of the term, 155;
utilizes reproductive forces, 179-182;
time an element in, 180-185;
the modes of, 186;
recourse to lower points does not involve diminution of, 229-232;
tendency to large scale, 320-321, 325, 531-532;
susceptible of enormous increase, 431-434, 466, 547.
Profits, meaning of the term and confusions in its use, 158-162,
189-194.
Progress, human, current theory of considered, 473-486;
in what it consists, 487-502;
its law, 503-523, 541-549;
retrogression, 524-540.
Progress, material, connection with poverty, 7-11, 222;
in what it consists, 227;
effects upon distribution of wealth, 228-241;
effect of expectation raised by, 253-258;
how it results in industrial depressions, 261-279;
why it produces poverty, 280-294.
Property, basis of, 331-334, 340-342;
erroneous categories of, 335;
derivation of distinction between real and personal, 377;
private in land not necessary to use of land, 395-400;
idea of transferred to land, 514-515.
Protection, its fallacies have their root in belief as to wages, 19;
effect on agriculturists, 447-449;
abolition by England, effect of, 252;
how protective taxes fall, 447-448.
Quesnay, his doctrine, 422-423, 431.
Rent, bearing upon Malthusian theory, 96-98, 132-134, 228-241,
242-252;
meaning of the term, 165;
arises from monopoly, 166;
law of, 168-170;
its corollaries, 171, 217-218;
effect of their recognition, 171-172;
as related to interest, 201-203;
as related to wages, 204-216;
advance of explains why wages and interest do not advance, 221-222;
increased by increase of population, 228-241;
increased by improvements, 242-252;
by speculation, 253-258;
speculative advance in the cause of industrial depressions, 261-279;
advance in explains the persistence of poverty, 280-294;
increase of not prevented by tenant right, 322;
or by division of land, 324-325;
serf, generally fixed, 353;
confiscation of future increase, 357-359;
a continuous robbery, 362-363;
feudal rents, 372-375;
their abolition, 378-381;
their present value, 381-382;
rent now taken by the State, 397-400;
State appropriation of, 401-427, 514-515;
taxes on, 406-419;
effects of thus appropriating, 431-486.
Reade, Winwood, Martyrdom of Man, 478_n_, 479_n_.
Religion, necessary to socialism, 318;
promotive of civilization, 509, 519-520;
Hebrew, effects on race, 495-496;
retrogression in, 536-537;
change going on, 540;
animosities created by, 507_n_;
consensus of, 560-561.
Ricardo, definition of capital, 33;
inference as to population, 71;
enunciation of law of rent, 168;
narrow view of, 168-169, 225;
tax on rent, 420.
Royce, Samuel, Deterioration and Race Education, 538_n_.
Slaveholders of the South, their view of abolition, 351-353.
Slavery, chattel, comparatively trivial effects of, 347;
modifying influences, 353-354;
not truly abolished in United States, 355, 392;
never aided progress, 522-523.
Smith, Adam, definition of capital, 32-33, 36-42, 44, 45-46;
recognizes truth as to source of wages and then abandons it, 50;
influence of Malthusian theory upon, 92;
profits, 157;
how economists have followed him, 159;
differences of wages in different occupations, 207-208, 209-210;
his failure to appreciate the laws of distribution, 215;
taxation, 416-419.
Socialism, its ends and means, 317-319;
practical realization of its ideal, 431-469.
Social organization and life, possible changes, 452-69.
Spencer, Herbert, compensation of land owners, 357-358, 362;
public ownership of land, 402;
evolution, 478, 485;
human progress, 478-479;
social differences, 502.
Strikes, 310-314.
Subsistence, population and, 91-150;
increases with population, 129-133;
cannot be exhausted, 133-134;
included in wealth, 142, 244;
demand for not fixed, 245-246. (See Malthusian Theory.)
Supply and demand, of labor, 208-209;
relative terms, 266-267;
as affected by wages, 308-310.
Swift, Dean, his Modest Proposal, 126.
Taxation, eliminated in considering distribution, 155;
reduction of will not relieve poverty, 297-301;
considered, 406-427;
canons of, 406;
effect upon production, 406-412;
ease and cheapness in collection, 412-414;
certainty, 414-416;
equality of, 416-419;
opinions on, 420-423;
objections to tax on rent, 422-427;
cause of manifold taxation, 425-427;
how taxation falls on agriculturists, 447-450;
effects of confiscating rent by taxation, 431-469.
Tennant, Rev. Wm., cause of famine in India, 115-116.
Thornton, Wm., on wage fund, 18_n_;
on capital, 35.
Values, equation of, 196-197.
Wages, current doctrine, 17;
it coincides with vulgar opinion, 18;
but is inconsistent with facts, 19-22;
genesis of current theory, 22;
difference between it and that herein advanced, 23-25;
not drawn from capital but produced by labor, 23, 25-29, 49-69;
meaning of the term, 31-32;
always subsequent to labor, 56-58;
fallacy of the assumption that they are drawn from capital, 56-57;
for services, 59_n_;
connection between current doctrine and Malthusian theory, 92-95,
96-97;
confusion of terms produced by current theory, 159;
rate of, 204;
law of, 204-216;
formulated, 213;
in different occupations, 207-212;
as quantity and as proportion, 216;
not increased by material progress, 303-304;
minimum fixed by standard of comfort, 303;
effect of increase or decrease on employers, 308-309;
equilibrium of, 310-311;
not increased by division of land, 323-325;
why they tend to wages of slavery, 346;
efficiency of labor increases with, 442.
Wages and Interest, high or low together, 19-22;
current explanation, 19;
Cairne’s explanation, 20-22;
true explanation, 170-172, 199-203, 221;
formulated, 218.
Wages of Superintendence, 159;
used to include profits of monopoly, 191.
Walker, Amasa, capital, 35.
Walker, Prof. F. A., wages, 18_n_;
capital, 35.
Wayland, Professor, definition of capital, 34.
Wealth, increase of not generally shared, 8-9;
meaning of term, 38-40;
interchangeability of, 47-48, 142, 181-182, 244-247;
confounded with money, 60-61;
increases with population, 141-150;
accumulated, 147-149;
laws of distribution, 153-216;
formulated, 218;
nature of, 147-149, 180, 205;
political effects of unequal distribution, 300, 527-535;
effects of just distribution, 438-444, 450-451, 452-469.
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes
Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. Variations
in hyphenation have been standardised but all other spelling and
punctuation remains unchanged.
Italics are represented thus _italic_.