to the intensity and extent of the restraint, men wonder that morality is at such a low ebb; and the social Pharisees cry out for more restraint. A proper understanding of this subject will necessitate a complete change of the popular conception of crime, and criminals, as will appear when we come to treat of law in its relation to crime, and its punishment, in Part III of this work.

It is only necessary to say here, that there ought to be nothing more obvious than that the happiness, and therefore the development of men in their individual characters, is best promoted by leaving them in the most perfect freedom to pursue each his own happiness,—the making of his own character, in his own way, unhindered by the interference of others; and that the general, or public happinses, or character, depends upon the happiness or character of each individual comprising that public, and therefore upon the perfect liberty of every individual.

Then, while happiness is the immediate object of human life, the manner in which it is pursued shapes the final result; that is, the formation of individual character. If the activities of the man have been repressed, or if they have been forced into channels that are unnatural, then the result is misery, and the making of a character that is unnatural.

The life of any person is made up of all his sensations, pleasurable or otherwise, from the moment of his birth until the vital spark is extinguished in death. And the fullness of his life is measured by the aggregate amount and intensity of those sensations. The man who is reared in want, condemned to severest toil to obtain the commonest necessaries of existence, his perceptions dulled, with no opportunities for observation, recreation, or improvement, and working as in a treadmill, may be said to have lived but a small life,-small in amount and exceed

ing poor in quality. In fact it is scarcely entitled to be called life. True, he has performed the function of respiration. He has taken sufficient nourishment to maintain the requisite strength to breath. But an idiot does the same. There has been no growth in knowledge, no awakening of loftier desires under the quickening influence of knowledge, no realization of a happiness above the most sordid and brutal; and consequently there is no development of character that is of any value. If such an one, under the repressive influence of a society which prevents a normal development, develops abnormally, and preys upon that society, the blame is with the society and not with its victim.

Take another subject, with precisely the same natural abilities, but with favoring cicumstances: from the very first his bodily wants are supplied, promoting agreeable sensations and a strong and vigorous growth of body and mind. His associations are more refined.. He is brought into contact and mixes with men and women of culture. His love of distinction finds its natural gratification, producing a more refined and appreciative regard for others in his intercourse with them. His thirst for knowledge is stimulated. New thoughts, new sensations, new experiences constantly open before him new possibilities, and awaken new desires which he is able to gratify. In one case we have a criminal, and in the other a Sir Isaac Newton, or a Herbert Spencer. In one, the object of life has been defeated; in the other it has been attained. What is it that has caused the difference?

Everything that we know of points to the essential equality of those of whom these two are the types, at least we know of nothing on which any considerable inequality can be predicated. They have the same mental and physical constitution, are subject to the same needs, and the same laws of growth and development. They have the same mo

tive propelling them onward, and they are both helped or hindered in the same way. They have the same ultimate purpose to attain, and if they accomplish it, it must be by the same means. We may assume that there is some inherent force or quality in one which does not exist in the other; but this is purely an assumption. No one has been able to designate it. But if we find in the course of our inquiries, a cause working in society which is adequate to produce precisely the differences which are observable among men, we shall be perfectly justified in assigning those differences to that cause until another adequate cause is found.

The farmer who should find four fifths of the grain in his wheat field stunted and dwarfed as men are stunted and dwarfed, while the other one fifth was well developed and natural, would be puzzled to account for the strange appearance. It could not be the seed, for it was all good, otherwise it would not have grown. It could not reside in the soil, for it was the same for all. The same sun warmed it; the same breezes fanned it; and the same dews refreshed it. He would naturally infer that somewhere there existed a disturbing force which was working havoc among his crops. The aggregate of human life to-day is relatively about what the ag gregate of such a crop of wheat would be. We shall try to find out what that disturbing element is.

Thus, life is something more than a mere breathing and dimly conscious existence. It is the active interplay of all the human faculties, the experience of all the sensations which come from satisfied desires, which have been brought into being as a result of a constantly increasing knowledge, that has itself been stimulated and developed by the promptings of an ever active and progressive selfishness. Therefore it follows, that whenever any human being is denied by another, any pleasure, any happiness or any possible attainment, he is dwarfing his life.

by so much. And when one man, or set of men fix limitations to the activities of another, or prescribe bounds to the gratification of that other's desires, they are certain, not only to dwarf his life, but to force him into unnatural channels to seek gratification, and to resist the restraints imposed.

The problem of human life is the development of the human animal to the highest degree of perfection of body and mind that it is capable of reaching. The condition of that development is the absolute freedom of that animal, both in mind and body, from external restraint. The power to work out such a growth lies wholly within each man for himself; and given the necessary conditions, he can no more help growing in all those graces which adorn and beautify his person and character than a plant can help growing to the best of its capabilities, when surrounded with all the conditions of its growth.

CHAPTER III.

THE PURPOSE AND CONDITION OF HUMAN SOCIETY.

Having ascertained the motive that prompts men to activity, and the purpose toward which that activity is directed, it is necessary to observe also the successive stages of man's development to rightly understand his relation to society.

Starting at the beginning, we find his desires, like his knowledge, are gross; and have reference to his grosser and more material needs. They are mainly food, clothing and shelter. Food is to the animal what fuel is to the furnace. Without it the fire of life goes out. If it is insufficient it smoulders; and he cannot properly perform his part for the same reason that an engine cannot do its work if the fire burns low under the boiler and therefore does not give sufficient steam. Clothing and shelter are next in importance. They are indispensable to the proper working of the human machine. Insufficient or unsuitable provision against inclement seasons operate exactly like insufficient food to limit the work and cripple the usefulness of the man.

Beginning with these wants, with selfishness spurring him on to their gratification, he is armed in his own person with the needed implements (his power to labor) for the satisfaction of all of them.

But this is not all. The material of the universe on which to expend that labor, and from which he must produce the things he wants, lies all around him, inviting him to take freely. He has a double stimulus to exertion: the hope of enjoyment of satisfied desires, and the pleasure to be experienced in the very exercise itself of his bodily powers. These constitute the most potent incentives to activity; especially as a failure to respond to these in