'The object of this essay is to assert one very simple principle, as entitled to govern absolutely the dealings of society with the individual in the way of compulsion and control, whether the means used be physical force in the form of legal penalties, or the moral coercion of public opinion. That principle is, that the sole end for which mankind are warranted, individually or collectively, in interfering with the liberty of action of any of their number, is self-protection. That the only purpose for which power can be rightfully exercised over any member of a civilized community, against his will,is to prevent harm to others. His own good, either physical or moral, is not a sufficient warrant. He cannot rightfully be compelled to do or forbear, because it will be better for him to do so, because it will make him happier, because, in the opinions of others, to do so would be wise, or even right. These are good reasons for remonstrating with him, or reasoning with him, or persuading him, but not for compelling him, or visiting him with any evil in case he do otherwise. To justify that, the conduct from which it is desired to deter him, must be calculated to produce evil to some one else. The only part of the conduct of any one, for which he is amenable to society, is that which concerns others. In the part which merely concerns himself, his independence is, of right, absolute. Over himself, over his own body and mind, the individual is sovereign.'
'The object of this essay is to assert one very simple principle, as entitled to govern absolutely the dealings of society with the individual in the way of compulsion and control, whether the means used be physical force in the form of legal penalties, or the moral coercion of public opinion. That principle is, that the sole end for which mankind are warranted, individually or collectively, in interfering with the liberty of action of any of their number, is self-protection. That the only purpose for which power can be rightfully exercised over any member of a civilized community, against his will,is to prevent harm to others. His own good, either physical or moral, is not a sufficient warrant. He cannot rightfully be compelled to do or forbear, because it will be better for him to do so, because it will make him happier, because, in the opinions of others, to do so would be wise, or even right. These are good reasons for remonstrating with him, or reasoning with him, or persuading him, but not for compelling him, or visiting him with any evil in case he do otherwise. To justify that, the conduct from which it is desired to deter him, must be calculated to produce evil to some one else. The only part of the conduct of any one, for which he is amenable to society, is that which concerns others. In the part which merely concerns himself, his independence is, of right, absolute. Over himself, over his own body and mind, the individual is sovereign.'
This statement has the great merit of being, at least, perfectly clear and definite. In some particular cases, the principle may be difficult of application; but in the principle itself, as defined in this passage, there is not the slightest uncertainty or indistinctness. The author is very careful, however, to except from its operation all persons who are not in the maturity of their faculties, as well as all those backward nations who are not capable of being improved by free and equal discussion. The condition of society in which alone this liberal maxim will be safe and appropriate, must be that of a people so far elevated and enlightened, that persuasion and conviction are the most powerful means of improvement. Wherever is to be found an advanced civilization, with all the complex moral and social relations which grow out of it, there the necessity for physical force will be found to have declined. Public opinion will have acquired great authority, if not absolute control; and the rights of individuals will require, for their protection against the overpowering weight of the social combination, all those safeguards against possible tyranny, which can only be afforded by the general acceptance of the liberal principle just quoted. The social authority must be educated and restrained by its own willing recognition of individual rights. As the power most likely to be abused for purposes of oppression is that of opinion and custom, too often operating silently and insidiously, the corrective is only to be applied by the establishment of a counteracting spiritual authority, in the bosom of society itself, at all times ready to utter its mandate and to proclaim the inviolable sanctity of individual liberty, within the limits fixed by enlightened reason and conscience. In the earlier stages of civilization, or in societies of more simple and primitive character, individual development has not reached the point which either requires such principles or admits of their application. The merely physical life of such people can hardly give rise to these questions: political power and actual force necessarily occupy the place of those subtle and all-pervading moral and social influences which prevail in the subsequent stages of progress. As men become more enlightened, they become also more capable of self-control, and are consequently entitled to greater liberty of action. Sooner or later, the necessity for conceding it to the utmost limit of the principle stated, will be fully acknowledged.
But it is notable that the author does not attempt to maintain his dogma on the ground of right or morality, but solely on that of a wise and broad utility. He foregoes all the advantage he might obtain in the argument by resorting to the moral considerations which sustain it. It is better for the real interests of society that individual members should enjoy the largest measure of liberty; and if this be not equivalent to the assertion that it is also their right, upon the plainest moral grounds, it is at least certain that the two principles are coincident in this case, as they will be found to be in all others, where the real interests of mankind are concerned. So true is it, that whatever, in a large sense, is best for the permanent advantage of any society is, at the same time, always right and consistent with sound moral principles.
In a matter of such vital importance as that of human liberty, which, in the language of another eminent writer, 'is the one thing most essential to the right development of individuals, and to the real grandeur of nations,' it was necessary that its foundations should be made so broad, in any correct philosophical analysis of its nature, as to comprehend the whole field of human activity. Accordingly, Mr. Mill includes within its proper domain the three great departments: consciousness, or the internal operations of our own minds; will, or the external manifestation of our thoughts and feelings in acts and habits; and lastly, association, or coöperation with others, voluntarily agreed upon, and not interfering with the rights and liberties of those who may choose to stand aloof from such combinations. In reference to the first of these, which asserts the undoubted right to enjoy our own thoughts and feelings, with absolute freedom of opinion on all subjects, Mr. Mill remarks that 'the liberty of expressing and publishing opinions may seem to fall under a different principle, since it belongs to that part of the conduct of an individual which concerns other people; but being almost of as much importance as the liberty of thought itself, and resting in great part on the same reasons, is practically inseparable from it.' But, in truth, the right of expression, which does not properly come under the head of consciousness or thought, but under that of will or action, is the only one of the two which at this day is of any practical importance. The idea of controlling thought or belief has, in effect, been everywhere abandoned. Indeed, it may be questioned whether any such control ever has been or could have been exercised; for thought itself could never be known except through some outward manifestation. It was therefore theexpressionwhich was punished, and not the inward consciousness. Opinions, it is true, have too often been the avowed ground of oppression and persecution. Men have been injured in various ways, on account of their known or suspected belief; even in modern times and in communities claiming to be free, political disabilities, social reprobation, and the stigma of disqualification as witnesses have been imposed upon persons entertaining certain views on theological questions. But these persecutions may have compelled the suppression or disavowal of obnoxious opinions, and may have made hypocrites; they never changed belief, or produced any other conviction than that of wrong and outrage. The soul itself is beyond the reach of any human authority, not to be conquered by any device of terror or torture.
Difference of opinion is unfortunately the ground of natural aversion among men; and it requires much enlightenment and liberal training to enable society to overcome this universal prejudice and to inaugurate complete and absolute toleration. 'In the present state of knowledge,' says Buckle, the historian, 'the majority of people are so ill informed, as not to be aware of the true nature of belief; they are not aware that all belief is involuntary and is entirely governed by the circumstances which produce it. What we call the will has no power over belief, and consequently a man is nowise responsible for his creed, except in so far as he is responsible for the events which gave him his creed.' It may be doubted whether the majority of people are quite so ignorant as Mr. Buckle here represents them; for the conflict between beliefs is rather the result of feeling or passion than of judgment. Because men who differ in opinion hate each other, it does not follow that they must therefore deny the right to freedom of thought, or maintain that belief may be changed at will. The red man and the white man may cordiallyhate each other; but it would hardly be accurate to say that the former denies the right of the latter to his color, or thinks him morally responsible for it. Yet men are quite as much responsible for the color of their skin as for the character of their honest convictions, and they have almost equal power to control the one or the other. In truth, the hatred arising from conflict of opinion is not the offspring of thought, but of emotion. It is chiefly a derangement of the affections; not so much an error of the reason. The most unenlightened man has the innate conviction that he is entitled to his peculiar belief, because it is impossible for him to admit any other; nor is it at all natural or necessary that one individual should question the sincerity of another's opinion on any subject, because it differs from his own. Intolerance in this particular has been the result mostly of interference and usurpation—the consequence of that theological despotism to which men have, in some form or other, in all ages, been more or less subjected.
It is not, therefore, the liberty of thought and belief that Mr. Mill finds it necessary to defend, in his exposition of the first division of the subject; but it is only that of expression and discussion—the liberty of the press—the right to make known opinions upon any subject, and to produce arguments in support of them. In this country, it may be supposed to be wholly unnecessary to investigate this subject, inasmuch as the liberty of the press is here maintained to the most unlimited extent. So far as the mere legal right is involved, this is undoubtedly true; the established laws interpose no impediment to the expression and publication of opinions, except those indispensable regulations which are intended to preserve the public peace and morality, and to protect private character from wanton injury. We have no reason to fear any invasion of the liberty of the press—any political interference with the right of free discussion—unless in times of great public danger, or, as Mr. Mill says, 'during some temporary panic, when fear of insurrection drives ministers and judges from their propriety.' But there is a despotism of society, in this country as well as elsewhere, which, independent of law or authority, often imposes silence on unpopular opinions, and suppresses all discussion, by means of those ten thousand appliances and expedients adopted by communities to express displeasure and to command obedience. Even, however, if there were not the slightest evidence of intolerance in the country, if the rational principles of liberty were universally acknowledged and practised upon, it would still be most useful and interesting to follow this author in his admirable discussion of the subject. It would be a matter of no little importance to understand the rational grounds on which the great and acknowledged principles of liberty are actually founded, and to see the perfect frankness and fearlessness with which this philosophic author follows the doctrine to its extreme but inevitable conclusions. For instance, Mr. Mill does not hesitate to say, 'if all mankind minus one, were of one opinion, and only one person were of the contrary opinion, mankind would be no more justified in silencing that one person, than he, if he had the power, would be justified in silencing mankind.' And this position is maintained not solely or chiefly on the ground of injustice to the person holding the obnoxious opinion, but because the forcible suppression of it would do even greater injustice to those who conscientiously reject it. For if the opinion be true, its establishment and dissemination would benefit mankind; and even if it be false, it is equally important it should be freely made known, inasmuch as it would contribute to 'the clearer perception and livelier impression of truth produced by its collision with error.' Besides, no man can certainly know thatany opinion is true, so long as anything which can be said against it is not permitted to be presented and freely discussed. Liberty is the indispensable atmosphere of truth. Without it, truth will as surely languish and die, as animals or plants will perish without air. All great improvements have been accomplished only through the conflicts of adverse opinion. Progress is change, and if all discussion is prohibited, change and improvement are impossible.
It is interesting also to see the unlimited scope allowed to this bold doctrine, and the fearlessness with which it is applied to subjects usually deemed sacred and forbidden to all question or controversy. The existence of a God, the certainty of a future state, the truth of Christianity—all these are the proper subjects of free discussion and untrammelled opinion, quite as much as any other questions, however unimportant or indifferent. It becomes the devoutest Christian to hear discussions on these transcendent subjects without the least ill will or intolerance toward the adversary who may thus endeavor to shake his faith in those sublime truths which he holds indisputable and more sacred than all others. It is doing the highest possible service to the doctrines to attack them; for if they be sound and true, they will certainly survive, and be all the more glorious for having passed safely through the ordeal. Christianity itself was more vital and effective in its earlier stages, when fighting its way into existence against all sorts of persecutions, than it has ever been since in the palmiest days of its power. When its doctrines are no longer questioned, it will cease to be a living spirit controlling the hearts of men. It will be a cold and formal thing, resting on the general acquiescence, but no longer exhibiting its all-conquering power in the active effort to overthrow opposing creeds.
No genuine liberty can exist, until the community shall have reached that elevated condition of liberality and wisdom which will gladly submit its most cherished sentiments to the analysis of unsparing logic, and that without the least effort to punish, in any way, the daring attempt to undermine its faith. The champions of truth will be strengthened by the encounter with error; weak and false arguments, which really injure truth, will give way, and the solid foundations of impregnable logic will be substituted in their place. It is impossible to overestimate the service done to a good cause, by exposing it fearlessly to the worst attacks of its enemies. 'The fatal tendency of mankind to leave off thinking about a thing when it is no longer doubtful, is the cause of half their errors. A contemporary author has well spoken of 'the deep slumber of a decided opinion.'' And another author enthusiastically exclaims: 'All hail, therefore, to those who, by attacking a truth, prevent that truth from slumbering. All hail to those bold and fearless natures, the heretics and innovators of the day, who, rousing men out of their lazy sleep, sound in their ears the tocsin and the clarion, and force them to come forth that they may do battle for their creed. Of all evils, torpor is the most deadly. Give us paradox, give us error, give us what you will, so that you save us from stagnation. It is the cold spirit of routine which is the nightshade of our nature. It sits upon men like a blight, blunting their faculties, withering their powers, and making them both unable and unwilling to struggle for the truth, or to figure to themselves what it is they really believe.'
The chapter which Mr. Mill devotes to this subject—the liberty of discussion and publication—is thoroughly exhaustive in its character. It presents the question in almost every light in which it is desirable to see it, and successfully meets every objection which can be made to his doctrine. For the first time, a logical and philosophical exposition of the great principles ofliberty is presented to the world, and that too in a most readable and attractive form. The work is calculated to do immense good. It places liberty on a rational foundation, and dispels every doubt which might have been entertained by the timid, as to the safety and propriety of permitting free discussion on those points of belief which are too often held to be beyond the domain of investigation and argument. We do not pretend, here, to give anything like a synopsis of the grounds assumed, and the reasonings adopted by the author. A full and correct idea of these can only be obtained from the book itself. But before leaving this part of the work, we cannot forbear quoting a passage on this subject from an essay by Henry Thomas Buckle. Even at the risk of prolonging this article beyond its proper limits, we quote at some length, on account of the vast interest of the topic and the different notions which too generally prevail as to the propriety of its discussion:
'If they who deny the immortality of the soul, could, without the least opprobrium, state in the boldest manner all their objections, the advocates of the doctrine would be obliged to reconsider their own position and to abandon its untenable points. By this means, that which I revere, and an overwhelming majority of us revere, as a glorious truth, would be immensely strengthened. It would be strengthened by being deprived of those sophistical arguments which are commonly urged in its favor, and which give to its enemies an incalculable advantage. It would moreover be strengthened by that feeling of security which men have in their own convictions, when they know that everything is said against them which can be said, and that their opponents have a fair and liberal hearing. This begets a magnanimity and a rational confidence which cannot otherwise be obtained. But, such results can never happen while we are so timid, or so dishonest, as to impute improper motives to those who assail our religious opinions. We may rely upon it that as long as we look upon an atheistical writer as a moral offender, or even as long as we glance at him with suspicion, atheism will remain a standing and permanent danger, because, skulking in hidden corners, it will use stratagems which their secrecy will prevent us from baffling; it will practise artifices to which the persecuted are forced to resort; it will number its concealed proselytes to an extent of which only they who have studied this painful subject are aware; and, above all, by enabling them to complain of the treatment to which they are exposed, it will excite the sympathy of many high and generous natures, who, in an open and manly warfare, might strive against them, but who, by a noble instinct, find themselves incapable of contending with any sect which is oppressed, maligned, or intimidated.'
'If they who deny the immortality of the soul, could, without the least opprobrium, state in the boldest manner all their objections, the advocates of the doctrine would be obliged to reconsider their own position and to abandon its untenable points. By this means, that which I revere, and an overwhelming majority of us revere, as a glorious truth, would be immensely strengthened. It would be strengthened by being deprived of those sophistical arguments which are commonly urged in its favor, and which give to its enemies an incalculable advantage. It would moreover be strengthened by that feeling of security which men have in their own convictions, when they know that everything is said against them which can be said, and that their opponents have a fair and liberal hearing. This begets a magnanimity and a rational confidence which cannot otherwise be obtained. But, such results can never happen while we are so timid, or so dishonest, as to impute improper motives to those who assail our religious opinions. We may rely upon it that as long as we look upon an atheistical writer as a moral offender, or even as long as we glance at him with suspicion, atheism will remain a standing and permanent danger, because, skulking in hidden corners, it will use stratagems which their secrecy will prevent us from baffling; it will practise artifices to which the persecuted are forced to resort; it will number its concealed proselytes to an extent of which only they who have studied this painful subject are aware; and, above all, by enabling them to complain of the treatment to which they are exposed, it will excite the sympathy of many high and generous natures, who, in an open and manly warfare, might strive against them, but who, by a noble instinct, find themselves incapable of contending with any sect which is oppressed, maligned, or intimidated.'
The most interesting, and perhaps the most remarkable part of Mr. Mill's book, is that which he devotes to individuality as one of the elements of well being. Having very fully discussed the question of liberty in thought and expression—the right of controlling one's own mind, and of making known its conclusions—he proceeds to apply the same principle to the conduct and whole scheme of human life, maintaining that every man ought to be entirely free to act according to his own taste and judgment in all matters which concern only himself. The sole condition or limitation which society may rightfully impose upon the eccentricities of individuals, is the equal right of all others to be unmolested and unobstructed in their occupations and enjoyments. Every man is endowed with faculties, capacities, and dispositions peculiar to himself, there being quite as much diversity in the mental character of men as in their physical appearance. It is this infinite diversity of thought and feeling, as much perhaps as anything else, which distinguishes man from the lower animals. It is of the utmost importance to the progress of society, for it is only by departing from the common path, and pursuing new and untried modes of existence and action, that improvements are gradually made. If there were no disposition on the part of individuals todeviate from the ordinary customs which have descended from generation to generation, it is evident there would never be any important change in the modes of human life nor in the institutions of mankind, and if there could be any improvement at all, it would be extremely slow and unimportant. It is the peculiarities of individuals which alone can furnish the points of departure for new modes of action and new plans of life. Hence it is not less the right of individuals than it is the interest of the race that every one should not only be permitted, but should even be encouraged to follow the dictates of his own genius, with the most perfect and unlimited freedom consistent with the peace and security of other men. Each one of the numberless buds on a full-grown tree is the germ of another individual precisely similar to the one from which it is taken. But if new trees are propagated from these buds, they will exhibit not the slightest diversity in character from that of the parent stock. It is only from the seed, original centres of vitality and individuality that new varieties are produced and improvements obtained either in the flower or the fruit. So in human society: if each life is only an offshoot from the main body—a mere bud from the parent tree—with no diversities in character, and no salient points of original activity, it is evident that men would remain substantially the same from generation to generation, and society would stand still forever. Such, it is well known, is the case in those Eastern nations in which a rigid system of caste prevails, the same positions and occupations descending from father to son, without the possibility of one generation escaping from the fatal routine to which its predecessor was subjected.
Hence it is that Mr. Mill, with great earnestness, insists that 'there should be different experiments in living,' and 'that the worth of different modes of life should be proved practically, when any one thinks fit to try them;' for, he continues, 'where not the person's own character, but the traditions and customs of other people are the rule of conduct, there is wanting one of the principal ingredients of human happiness, and quite the chief ingredient of individual and social progress.' Undoubtedly, that man who acts in conformity with his own nature and disposition, if they do not mislead and betray him, will have greater satisfaction and enjoyment than he who is constrained by the opinions or authority of others to pursue courses not conformable to his taste and judgment. That which men naturally incline to undertake and ardently desire to accomplish, is usually that which they are best fitted to do, and which will give the most appropriate exercise to their peculiar faculties. It is evidently the general interest that every individual in society should be employed in that peculiar work which he can best perform. More will be effected, with less dissatisfaction and suffering. And obviously, no better mode can be devised to put every man to the thing for which he is capacitated by nature, than to give full scope to his individuality, under the multiplied and powerful influences which liberal education and elevated society are calculated to exert in impelling him forward. The effect will be not only to do more for society as a whole, but to make superior men by means of self-education. 'He who does anything because it is the custom, makes no choice. He gains no practice either in discerning or desiring what is best. The mental and moral, like the muscular powers, are improved only by being used. The faculties are called into no exercise by doing a thing merely because others do it, no more than by believing a thing only because others believe it. If the grounds of an opinion are not conclusive to a person's own reason, his reason cannot be strengthened, but is likely to be weakened by adopting it: and if the inducements to an act are not such as are consentaneousto his own feelings and character (where affection or the rights of others are not concerned), it is so much done toward rendering his feelings and character inert and torpid, instead of active and energetic.'
Against these views, and, indeed, against the great body of valuable thoughts so admirably presented in this work, no rational objection would seem to be fairly adducible. But there are some very striking passages liable to a very different criticism—passages which, if not founded on actual misconception of facts, are, at least, so exaggerated in statement as to require very material modifications, both as to the existence of the evil they allege and the remedy they propose. Mr. Mill complains of the despotism of society as having utterly suppressed all spontaneity or individuality, and reduced the mass of mankind to a condition of lamentable uniformity. He thinks this evil has not only gone to a dangerous extent already, but that it threatens a still further invasion of individual liberty with even greater disasters in its train. It is better, however, to let Mr. Mill speak for himself in the following passages:
'But society has now fairly got the better of individuality; and the danger which threatens human nature is not the excess but the deficiency of personal impulses and preferences.' * * *'In our times, from the highest class of society down to the lowest, every one lives as under the eye of a hostile and dreaded censorship.' * * *'I do not mean that they choose what is customary, in preference to what suits their inclination. It does not occur to them to have any inclination except for what is customary. Thus the mind itself is bowed to the yoke; even in what people do for pleasure, conformity is the first thing thought of; they like in crowds; they exercise choice only among things commonly done; peculiarity of taste, eccentricity of conduct, are shunned equally with crimes; until by dint of not following their own nature they have no nature to follow; their human capacities are withered and starved; they become incapable of any strong wishes or native pleasures, and are generally without either opinions or feelings of home growth or properly their own.'
'But society has now fairly got the better of individuality; and the danger which threatens human nature is not the excess but the deficiency of personal impulses and preferences.' * * *
'In our times, from the highest class of society down to the lowest, every one lives as under the eye of a hostile and dreaded censorship.' * * *
'I do not mean that they choose what is customary, in preference to what suits their inclination. It does not occur to them to have any inclination except for what is customary. Thus the mind itself is bowed to the yoke; even in what people do for pleasure, conformity is the first thing thought of; they like in crowds; they exercise choice only among things commonly done; peculiarity of taste, eccentricity of conduct, are shunned equally with crimes; until by dint of not following their own nature they have no nature to follow; their human capacities are withered and starved; they become incapable of any strong wishes or native pleasures, and are generally without either opinions or feelings of home growth or properly their own.'
And so, speaking of men of genius as being less capable than other persons 'of fitting themselves, without hurtful compression, into any ofthe small number of mouldswhich society provides in order to save its members the trouble of forming their own character,' he continues:
'If they are of a strong character and break their fetters, they become a mark for the society which has not succeeded in reducing them to commonplace, to point at with solemn warning, as 'wild,' 'erratic,' and the like; much as if one should complain of the Niagara river for not flowing smoothly between its banks like a Dutch canal.'
'If they are of a strong character and break their fetters, they become a mark for the society which has not succeeded in reducing them to commonplace, to point at with solemn warning, as 'wild,' 'erratic,' and the like; much as if one should complain of the Niagara river for not flowing smoothly between its banks like a Dutch canal.'
Mr. Buckle also bears testimony to the same effect in the following language:
'The immense mass of mankind are, in regard to their usages, in a state of social slavery; each man being bound under heavy penalties, to conform to the standard of life common to his own class. How serious these penalties are, is evident from the fact that though innumerable persons complain of prevailing customs, and wish to shake them off, they dare not do so, but continue to practise them, though frequently at the expense of health, comfort, and fortune. Men not cowards in other respects, and of a fair share of moral courage, are afraid to rebel against this grievous and exacting tyranny.'
'The immense mass of mankind are, in regard to their usages, in a state of social slavery; each man being bound under heavy penalties, to conform to the standard of life common to his own class. How serious these penalties are, is evident from the fact that though innumerable persons complain of prevailing customs, and wish to shake them off, they dare not do so, but continue to practise them, though frequently at the expense of health, comfort, and fortune. Men not cowards in other respects, and of a fair share of moral courage, are afraid to rebel against this grievous and exacting tyranny.'
Now, we are decidedly of opinion that the expressions used by both these eminent writers are altogether too strong. We think it is true, both in Europe and America, that whenever the masses of society recognize a man of real genius, they are ever ready to welcome him with all his peculiarities—not merely to overlook his ordinary eccentricities, but to pardon grave offences against morality, and even to imitate his errors. It may well be thatthe multitude are not quick to distinguish superiority; though with the proper information and opportunity of judging, they seldom fail instinctively to appreciate great qualities, especially if these be such as relate to practical life, or artistic development, rather than to abstract and speculative science. Men addicted to pursuits of the latter kind, make their merits known more slowly; but when they are known, they command unbounded respect in society.
The real difficulty, unfortunately, is, that the vast majority of men are not gifted with marked individuality, or great genius. They do not break through the trammels of custom, not so much because these trammels are strong, as because their impulses are weak. Whenever a man of real energy appears, the crowd separates before him, the cobwebs of custom are brushed away as he advances, and the world receives him very generally for what he is worth, and too often for more. That impostors and pretenders frequently succeed in deceiving society, is owing to the fact that it is ever anxious and ready to receive and reward its benefactors.
But even Mr. Mill himself recognizes the wisdom of paying due deference to the experience of mankind, and of considering established customs asprima faciegood, and proper to be followed. He admits 'that people should be so taught and trained in youth, as to know and benefit by the ascertained results of human experience,' and that 'the traditions and customs of other people are, to a certain extent, evidence of what their experience has taughtthem; presumptive evidence, and as such, have a claim to his deference.' From all which, it is plain that there is a just medium between what is recognized and established, and what is newly proposed as a substitute for the old. The masses of mankind are incapable of judging between the value of prevailing usages and novel practices; much less are they capable themselves of striking out new paths fit to be followed by their fellow men. The true difficulty then is the want of energetic individuality and original genius, rather than the want of a field for the exhibition of their power, or an opportunity for their exertion. It cannot be denied, however, that there is a certain inertia in society, requiring no little exertion to overcome it, even in the case of unquestionable improvements. But this is unavoidable, and at the same time most fortunate for the safety of mankind; for otherwise, we should be subjected to perpetual changes and sudden convulsions, which would make even progress itself a doubtful good.
There is also another important aspect in which this question may be advantageously considered. No one doubts that coöperation in society contributes vastly to the increase of human power, production, and happiness. Unanimity in sentiment promotes harmony, and contributes to prosperity. Nor will it be denied that if truth could be certainly attained upon any point whatever, it would be desirable that it should be universally recognized and accepted. Undoubtedly, if any man in the community should be disposed to dispute that truth, he ought to be permitted freely to do so; but we cannot see that this opposition would be better than his acquiescence. Now, the problem is to reconcile the degree of unanimity and coöperation which is requisite for the full exertion of social power, with that amount of individuality which would be useful in promoting a progressive change. Spontaneity or originality is disintegrating in its immediate tendency. It disturbs the order of society, though, in the end, on the whole, it is advantageous. Thus we have the tenacity of old habits and prevailing sentiments on the one hand, tending to the harmony of society, and enabling all its members to coöperate in the great works which make communities powerful. On the other hand,we have the sporadic and disturbing efforts of individual genius, ever seeking to withdraw the social current into new channels, and eventually, through many trials, errors, failures, and triumphs, alluring and leading it into better paths. It is not good for society that either of these conflicting forces should gain the decided ascendency; nor do we believe with Mr. Mill, that the preponderance at the present time belongs to the former.
As to the influence of fashion, which is evidently alluded to in the passages quoted, that plainly stands on a different and peculiar footing. It has a double power to enforce its decrees. The one is economical and commercial—the power of capital to control productions, and the advantages of producing largely after a few forms or patterns; the other is the social or psychological influence—the natural sympathy among men which induces uniformity of dress and habit. Extravagant excess often rules. Yet there is never wanting in the public of all civilized countries, a disposition to adopt improvements when they contribute to the general convenience, economy, and happiness; and we believe, on the whole, the tendency is to become more and more rational every day. Besides, a certain degree of uniformity is desirable in this as in all other things. No little loss and inconvenience would ensue if the fancies of every individual were permitted to run riot, and no man's taste were modified by that of his neighbor, or controlled by the general inclination. It is impossible to conceive the motley and discordant mass which a community of such people would present.
The bearing of these social phenomena in other directions and upon other interests, is the subject of equal condemnation by the author. The effect upon government, and the general tendency of the democratic principle, are represented in such highly colored pictures as these:
'In sober truth, whatever homage may be professed, or even paid to real or supposed mental superiority, the general tendency of things throughout the world is to render mediocrity the ascendant power among mankind.'At present, individuals are lost in the crowd. In politics it is almost a triviality to say that public opinion rules the world. The only power deserving the name is that of masses, and of governments, while they make themselves the organ of the tendencies and instincts of masses. This is as true in the moral and social relations of private life as in public transactions. Those whose opinions go by the name of public opinions, are not always the same sort of public; in America they are the whole white population; in England, chiefly the middle class. But they are always a mass, that is to say, collective mediocrity.'Their thinking is done for them by one mind like themselves, addressing them or speaking in their name, on the spur of the moment, through the newspapers. I do not assert that anything better is compatible, as a general rule, with the present low state of the human mind. But that does not hinder the government of mediocrity from being mediocre government. No government by a democracy or a numerous aristocracy, either in its political acts, or in the opinions, qualities, and tone of mind which it fosters, ever did or could rise above mediocrity, except in so far as the sovereign many may have let themselves be guided (which in their best times they have always done) by the counsels and influence of a more highly gifted and instructed One or Few. The initiation of all wise or noble things comes and must come from individuals; generally at first from some one individual.'
'In sober truth, whatever homage may be professed, or even paid to real or supposed mental superiority, the general tendency of things throughout the world is to render mediocrity the ascendant power among mankind.
'At present, individuals are lost in the crowd. In politics it is almost a triviality to say that public opinion rules the world. The only power deserving the name is that of masses, and of governments, while they make themselves the organ of the tendencies and instincts of masses. This is as true in the moral and social relations of private life as in public transactions. Those whose opinions go by the name of public opinions, are not always the same sort of public; in America they are the whole white population; in England, chiefly the middle class. But they are always a mass, that is to say, collective mediocrity.
'Their thinking is done for them by one mind like themselves, addressing them or speaking in their name, on the spur of the moment, through the newspapers. I do not assert that anything better is compatible, as a general rule, with the present low state of the human mind. But that does not hinder the government of mediocrity from being mediocre government. No government by a democracy or a numerous aristocracy, either in its political acts, or in the opinions, qualities, and tone of mind which it fosters, ever did or could rise above mediocrity, except in so far as the sovereign many may have let themselves be guided (which in their best times they have always done) by the counsels and influence of a more highly gifted and instructed One or Few. The initiation of all wise or noble things comes and must come from individuals; generally at first from some one individual.'
In all this there is too much truth; but it is truth which is wholly unavoidable. Nor are the circumstances complained of peculiar to the present age, or to the institutions which now generally prevail. Democratic and representative forms of government have so degenerated, as to fail in the vital point of bringing the best and ablest men to the control of affairs.But has any more despotic or hereditary form been equally successful, in the long run, in promoting the freedom, progress, and grandeur of nations? Is the mediocrity of a whole people more injurious to humanity than the precarious superiority of distinguished families, or the selfish power of haughty privileged classes? One important consideration seems to be overlooked by Mr. Mill in these one-sided views of the present condition of society; and that is, the comparatively greater elevation and improvement of the whole mass of civilized communities; and the question is suggested, whether humanity is more interested in the mediocre power of the millions, or the exceptional greatness of a few men of extraordinary genius; whether the influence of individual originality is actually lost to the world, because it is apparently overshadowed by the moderate intelligence of the countless masses of men. We maintain that the loss of this influence is not real, but merely apparent: like some great wave in the boundless ocean, it seems to sink into the quiet surface, while in truth its effects are necessarily felt on the shores of the most distant continents and islands. Society, at the present time, is in a state of transition; it is engaged in absorbing ideas and influences which seem utterly to disappear in its fathomless depths, while it is simply preparing for higher exertions and nobler conquests over ignorance and tyranny.
One thing at least may be said with obvious truth, and with certainty of large compensation for the evils supposed to exist in the present condition of society, as represented by Mr. Mill; it is this: if public opinion is so omnipotent in the enforcement of mediocre schemes and ideas, it can bring to bear a vast fund of power, whenever real genius may be so fortunate as to make itself felt and respected. No man having any faith in humanity, not even Mr. Mill himself, will deny the power of individual genius to make its impression even on the mediocre masses; for that would be to deny the essential nature and efficiency of originality, and its capacity to accomplish the work which it is destined to do for the benefit of mankind. Actual conditions at the present moment, may possibly place unusual obstructions in the way of genius; though the entire freedom and accessibility of the press would seem to negative that view. At any rate, it follows from the very premises of Mr. Mill and those who think with him, that the actual organization of society, of which he complains, if it can be wielded in the interest of great ideas, is possessed of an authority which will make its decrees irresistible. In this fact we see ground of hope, rather than of despair, for the future of mankind. Mediocrity cannot always hold the reins and direct the progress of human society.
In his work on representative government, Mr. Mill fully recognizes the operation of free institutions as 'an agency of national education;' and he well says, 'a representative constitution is a means of bringing the general standard of intelligence and honesty existing in the community, and the individual intellect and virtue of its wisest members more directly to bear upon the government, and investing them with greater influence in it than they would have under any other mode of organization.' It cannot be otherwise. The masses are gradually rising in intelligence, as well as in the capacity and disposition to recognize and receive real superiority wherever it may be found. Certain cumbrous machinery heretofore used in social and political action, now stands in the way of free and efficient efforts to reach the best results. But these impediments will soon be swept away. They cannot remain eternally in the path of society; for, if by no other means, they will be removed by the flood of discontent and denunciation which now surges violently against them, and threatens them every instant with demolition and destruction.
A dusky vapor veils the sky,And darkens on the dewy slopes;Chill airs on rustling wings flit by,Sad as the sigh o'er buried hopes:I tread the cloistered walk alone,Between the shadow and the light,While from the church tower thronging downPale phantoms greet the coming night.My heart swells high with scorn and hateAt social fictions, narrow lawsBy which the few maintain their state,And build us out with golden bars:'She wears a careless smile,' I said,'And regal jewels on her brow;Those queenly lips, ere now, have madeRare mockery of her broken vow.'And what was I,—to touch that heart?Only a poet, made to pourLove's silver phrase with subtle artIn tides of music at her door.What though she bore a brightened blush,As if the echo linger'd long?Even so she listens to the thrushThat thrills the air with eddying song.'How sweet, on summer-scented morns,To hear through all our lingering walk,As soft as dew on fragrant lawns,The wandering music of her talk!Ah! dreaming heart, that asked no moreWhen dower'd with that o'erflowing smile:Ah! foolish heart, to linger o'erThe memories that can still beguile.'I paused. On distant breezes borne,A silken stir floats slowly by,And from the clouds a silver dawnBreaks through the vapor-shrouded sky;The cloister'd walk is paved with light,And bathed in crystal beams she stands:No jewels crown her presence bright,A single rose is in her hands.'Oh! fair white rose,' she softly said,'Make peace between my love and me;Lest from my life the colors fade,And leave me faint and pale like thee:Tell him that dearer is the flowerOnce honored by his poet hand,Than ermined rank, and princely power,With any noble in the land.'
Then soft as rose-leaf on my browA sudden kiss comes floating down,On wings as light as angels know,And crowns me with a kingly crown.And banish'd by a touch divine,Fled all the memories of pain;I clasped the pleading hands in mine,And told her all my love again.The pale mist like an incense cloudFrom some great altar drifts away,In silvery fullness o'er us flowsThe glory of a pallid day.Amid the opening buds of hopeI smile at half-forgotten fears;For love, I said, grows holier stillAnd purer through baptismal tears.
'A true bill.'-Shakspeare.
I used to be 'verdant' in the art of legislation. A short time since I paid my initiation fee, and learned the mystery. It is true I had heard much of legislative corruption, and had often seen paragraphs relating thereto in the newspapers, but I looked upon them as political squibs, put forth by the 'outs' in revenge for the defeat of their party schemes. Here let me stoutly assert that I cannot testify of my own knowledge to any instance of legislative corruption.Mem:This declaration is intended to save me from being called before any of the numerous investigating committees, which, like the schoolmaster, are abroad just now. At the same time I propose to relate in brief terms how I was initiated, and the reader may rest assured that it is 'an ower true tale.'
In the winter of 186-, not very long ago, you will perceive, the corporation of which I was a member found it important to obtain some legislation which would be very serviceable to those concerned. I was selected to go to Harrisburg, to see the members ofthe Legislature individually, and request them, if there was nothing objectionable in the bill, to vote for it. I had no doubt but that my reasons would prove satisfactory, especially as our business was of a nature to essentially contribute to the development of the mineral and agricultural resources of the State. With these honest and innocent ideas of legislation, I started on my mission. On arriving at the capitol, I called on our immediate member, Mr. Jones, who, if his own professions were to be trusted, was anxious to do all he could to promote the object of my visit. He was an old member, and 'knew the ropes.' From him I had every reason to expect aid in procuring the passage of my bill. His room was at a hotel, where a large number of the members of both houses boarded, and he knew them all. Of course, it was a very proper place for me to take rooms. I accompanied Jones to the gentlemen's sitting room in the evening, where he introduced me to many of his fellow legislators, at the same time hinting to them that I might have a bill of some importance for them to consider. In one or two instances, I noticed that knowing glances were exchanged between Jones and those to whom he introduced me. On one occasion a member called him aside, and, after some other conversation, in a low tone, said:'Is there anything in it?'The remark was so decidedly foreign to anything that could refer to my bill, that I concluded that it related to some rumor that was floating about without any certainty of its truth.
During the next day, I employed myself in listening to the debates and watching the course of business in the House. It was all new to me, and, of course, very interesting. While seated in the lobby, a middle-aged man of short stature, dark whiskers, and limping gait, whom I had heard designated as 'Sheriff,' and who appeared to have no visible means of support in Harrisburg, except his cane, carelessly dropped into a seat by my side, and engaged in commonplace conversation. He soon approached a more business-like matter, and said he had understood I was interested in some local legislation which would come before the House. I told him that I had charge of a bill which I should endeavor to have passed, 'It requires some tact and experience,' said he, 'to engineer a bill through such a House as this;' and he ended this preliminary conversation by asking the same mysterious question I had heard the night previous, viz.;'Is there anything in it?'I answered that I hoped there would be something in it, if it passed, for the parties interested, as it would enable us to develop certain matters of interest to the State, as well as to make a profit for the stockholders. 'If,' said he, 'it is a bill of such importance, you ought to have some man of experience to assist you in putting it through.' I assured him that 'our member' was a man of experience, and would stand by me, and be ready and willing to impart any instruction that might be necessary. The answer I received was a sarcastic smile, and the 'Sheriff' left.
I continued to watch the course of legislation for a few days, and soon discovered that I was the object of considerable interest to a number of outsiders. Whenever I entered the lobby, the 'Sheriff' and several gentlemen, who were always in his company, would cast their eyes in the direction of my seat, and then confer together. They seemed to keep a strict watch on my movements. At last, when an opportunity offered, I asked Jones what this 'Sheriff' was doing about the House. 'He seems to have no business, and is constantly watching the proceedings of both Houses, vibrating between them like an animated pendulum,' said I. 'Oh,' said Jones, 'he is a member of theThird House!' Here was a new thing to me. I evidently had not learned all the machinery of legislating. I asked for an explanation, and soonlearned that the 'Third House' consisted of old ex-members of either House or Senate, broken-down politicians, professional borers, and other vagrants who had made themselves familiar with themodus operandiof legislation, and who negotiated for the votes of members on terms to be agreed upon by the contracting parties—in short, these were the Lobby members of the Legislature—a portion of mankind which I had never heard mentioned in terms other than contempt and disgust. Was I then to become familiar with these leeches—these genteel loafers, who, having no apparent business, yet manage to live at the best hotels, drink the best of wines, and go home at the end of the session with more money than any of thehonestmembers? The sequel will show.
After waiting a week, I became impatient at the want of interest on the part of Jones in my bill, which so materially concerned a large number of his constituents. He, better than any other member, knew how much our company was doing for the development of the country, the furnishing of employment for laborers, and the increase of taxable inhabitants. He knew that not a man in the county had an objection to urge, or a remonstrance to present against our proposition. Why, then, did he not take my ready-drawn bill and present it without any further delay?
Jones was a member of the committee on corporations, and was said to have much influence in that important vestibule to the temple whence corporate privileges issue. He might, then, if so disposed, soon have my bill through that committee, I determined to bring the matter to a point at once, and cut short my board bill by a speedy presentation of my legislative bill, or obtain the unequivocal refusal of 'our member' to act. I had spent one Sunday in Harrisburg, and did not wish to suffer another infliction of the kind, if any effort of mine could avoid it. On Monday the House did not meet until three o'clock, as those members who live within a few hours' ride of the capital always wish to go home, and another class wish to spend Saturday and Sunday in Philadelphia, enjoying the varioushospitalitiesof the city of Brotherly Love, and the superior facilities for religious instruction, of which legislators generally stand in great need. These two parties combine, and have no difficulty in adjourning over from Friday noon to Monday evening.
At the meeting of the House, I was promptly on hand, and at once attacked Jones. I handed him my bill, drawn in due form, saying:
'Mr. Jones, I have been here a week, and have made no progress in the business for which I came. I am anxious to be at home attending to other duties. I propose to leave the bill in your hands, and depend upon you to see it through. There seems to be no necessity of my being detained longer, for I cannot hasten the matter. There cannot be the slightest objection, I presume, to its passage, when once introduced.'
Jones saw that I was becoming impatient, and seemed to be entirely satisfied that I should be quite so; and he informed me that the chief difficulty would be in passing it through the committee on corporations. The bills referred to that committee, he said, were always scrutinized very closely, and it would need some engineering. He clapped his hands, and called a page to his seat, whispered a few words to him, when he, like Puck, darted off on his errand. Jones then turned to me, and renewed the conversation. I soon saw the veritable Third House 'Sheriff,' whom I have described, approaching us. 'Our member' then handed him the bill, saying:
'My friend here is very desirous of pushing his bill through. Do you think there will be any difficulty about it?'
I could not see the propriety of consulting this Third House borer, especially as he was a total stranger to me.The 'Sheriff' looked wise a short time, and then said:
'Well' (addressing his conversation to me), 'you know that we have all kinds of men to deal with here, and some of them will pay no attention to a bill, however meritorious,if there is nothing in it—I mean, if it brings no money to their pockets. It is very lamentable that such is the case, but long experience has taught me that no bill of as much importance as yours, can get through here, without the aid of money.'
I was dumb with indignation! The flood of legislative light thus suddenly shed upon my unsophisticated mental vision, was too dazzling for me. I replied, when I could command my voice, with some very severe animadversions on bribery and corruption, with which the 'Sheriff' and Jones expressed a hearty agreement, but they said we must take men as we find them, and deal with them accordingly, or do without what we knew to be our just dues; and the 'Sheriff' hobbled away, and took a seat in the lobby. I left Jones with a determination to go over to the Senate and consult with the Senator from our district, and ascertain whether he entertained the same views of necessary appliances for legislation, as did my friends of the Second and Third Houses. Our Senator was a very sedate man, who had a reputation for honesty and piety, equalled only by that of Jones himself. I explained my business, showed him my bill, and he read it carefully through. On handing it back to me, he said, quietly:
'If thereis anything in it,it will pass without much opposition. If not, it will hardly go through the House. There is aRingformed over there, which will prevent any legislation of this kind, unless it is well paid for.'
Here was another legislative idiom! 'The Ring.' What did that mean? I was not long kept in ignorance, for I soon learned that it was a combination of members who had agreed to vote for no bill unless approved by them, and not only approved, but well paid for. It was easy for twenty or thirty individuals to control all important legislation in this way, by casting their votes for one side or the other. This ring is always in alliance with the Third House, and always in market, as I learned by my brief experience.
Satisfied that I must go about the business of legislation as I would any other purchase, I began to figure up the profit and loss account, to see how much fleecing we could stand, and make the bill profitable to ourselves. I returned to Jones to ascertain, if possible, if he was in the ring, and how much money it would require to get my bill through. He at once and most emphatically disclaimed all knowledge of the ring, and could not tell at all, how much money would be needed. He advised me to go to my Third House friend, the 'Sheriff,' who was posted up in such matters, and I concluded to act on his suggestion. The 'Sheriff's' advice was of a very practical nature. He thought it might take $3,000 to get it through—perhaps $5,000 for both House and Senate. It seemed a sheer piece of robbery and corruption, and I delayed further action until I could write to the directors of our corporation and state the case to them. This delayed me another week. When the answer came, it enclosed a check for $5,000, with directions to 'buy the scoundrels, if they were for sale, like dogs in the market.' On the day after I received the check, I went to the House, determined to make the best terms I could among those who followed legislation as a trade and made merchandise of their votes. Jones thought $3,000 would get it through the committee on corporations, and if I would hand him that amount he would manage it as economically as possible. He insisted that he did not wish anything for himself. He would scorn to accept a cent for his influence, and would feel everlastingly disgraced to take a farthingfrom a constituent. He was only anxious to serve me and have me fleeced as little as possible. Of course, I believed him. In proof of my confidence, I immediately handed over $2,000 to his custody, in convenient packages for distribution. The same day my bill was read in place and referred to the committee on corporations! This was on Tuesday. On Thursday I was at the seat of Jones, when he reported the bill from his committee. As he took it from his desk, a small strip of paper was dropped upon the floor. It seemed to have been accidentally folded in the bill. It was, beyond all question, accidentally dropped. I picked it up, not knowing but that it might be of some importance. As he was reporting various bills, I looked at the slip of paper. The title of my bill was at the head, or immediately following the words, 'In committee,' and below were eight names, foremost of which was that of 'our member.' The names and figures were as follows:
I folded this interestingmorceau, and placed it in my pocket. I was greatly surprised to see the name of Jones down for $125, when he had so positively declared that he did not want a cent; but I was happy to find that he had expended only $1,000 to get it through the committee. When he took his seat, I asked him if he had any difficulty in passing the bill through the committee? He said he had a little. The members thought $2,000 rather a small 'divy' (the legislative commercial phrase for dividend) for such a bill; but he induced them to let it go through for that sum. I could not but remember that little memorandum in my pocket, which only exhibited a distribution of half that amount, including one eighth of the sum to 'Jones.' It looked very much as if his fellow committee men had been sold as well as bought, and that he had quietly pocketed $1,125 in the operation. However, I said nothing, but concluded that I was fast being initiated into the mysteries ofhonorablelegislation. I must now wait to see if my money would hold out to carry the bill through, provided Jones continued to be the financial agent, and continued to make a fifty per cent. dividend for himself before disbursing to his fellows. I thought his course did not look like 'honor among thieves.'
After the bill was reported, my friend, the 'Sheriff,' came to congratulate me on such prompt action by the committee, and hoped I would be as successful with the ring on the floor of the House. I told him that he seemed to be well posted on such matters, and I would like to retain him as my counsellor in the case. With that characteristic modesty which adheres to a veteran member of the Third House, who has served fifteen winters in the lobby, he protested his want of ability to manage such matters; but concluded that, if I really desired it, he would assist me all in his power. I insisted that he was just the man, and must stand by me. We immediately entered into negotiations, I was to place my remaining $3,000 in his hands, and he would use such portions of it as would be necessary to secure the ring in both branches of the Legislature. He would disburse as little as possible, and return me what remained, out of which I could pay him what I thought proper for his services. As he was well acquainted with nearly all the members, I had no doubt of his ability to carry it through, for it was just that kind of a bill that no valid objection could be raised against. Jones, who had proved by his acts how entirely disinterested he was in all his efforts in my behalf, told me that there need be no fear of the 'Sheriff,' and he (Jones) would be responsible for a fair account of the disbursement of themoney. I could have no suspicion of Jones's honesty and fair dealing after my previous experience; so, in presence of our honest member, I handed over the $3,000. Soon after this, I saw the 'Sheriff' and Jones figuring earnestly together, and then go and consult with several members, who I supposed were in the ring. It would be ungenerous to suppose that Jones would receive money for voting for a bill to improve his own county, and he was undoubtedly doing all he could without compensation, while entirely conscious that others were being paid. My readers will be as ready to adopt this opinion as myself after what I have already recorded of him. Private bill day came, and mine was on the calendar. I must confess to a little palpitation when I heard the title read. I was made anxious and indignant, when a member from Philadelphia started to his feet, and said:
'I object to that bill.'
Jones trusted the member would not insist on his objection to that purely local bill. It was no use, the objection was adhered to. When business proceeded again, Jones went to the objecting member, who sat near where I stood anxiously watching the proceedings. Jones spoke to him warmly, when the other retorted with:
'Well,if there is anything in it,I will withdraw my objection, but not until I amsatisfied.'
The objector passed into the rotunda with Jones and the 'Sheriff,' where hemusthave been satisfied, for when he returned to his seat, he withdrew his objection, and it was, with the others, laid aside for a second reading. I never knew the arguments which were presented to induce him to withdraw his objection, but he probably foundhow muchthere was 'in it.' In the afternoon my bill passed without opposition.
The 'Sheriff' now informed me that I must hurry up the transcribing of my bill, or it would be a long time in getting over to the Senate. I told him that I supposed all bills must take their course according to their numbers. He said he would go to the clerk with me and get it 'hurried up.' When we spoke to the clerk, he said it could not be transcribed for a day or two, for it was nearly at the bottom of the large package that had been passed. The 'Sheriff' quietly handed a five-dollar note to the clerk, and his mind suddenly changed, and, 'seeing it is for you,' he would have it attended to immediately. The next thing to be looked for was a transcribing clerk who would do it. Another five-dollar note accomplished this object, and the work was finished up that night. In the morning it went to the Senate, and there it went through smoothly.
After my success, I called on the 'Sheriff' to see how much of the $3,000 he had used. As I anticipated, it was all used; but I strongly suspected that the whole ring, in this case, consisted of Jones, the 'Sheriff,' and the objecting member who went into the rotunda, and that the two former made a pretty large 'divy,' and paid the others, including the clerks, as little as possible.
In the course of my investigations, I learned that one of the Third House often receives money on his own representation that certain members will not vote without pay, when they (the members) are entirely innocent and unsuspecting, while the leeches of the lobby are selling their votes and charging them with bribery.
Such is the little 'mystery' which I paid five thousand dollars to become acquainted with. As our company has no more acts of incorporation to ask for, I hope never to be obliged to learn the lesson over again.
Perhaps others may manage better and cheaper from taking note of my experience.