to
weed his land or to roof his sheds--that those were too costly
operations for him to undertake, and that he knew not how to feed his
labourers nor pay them? Would you not instantly answer, that instead of
ruining him to weed his fields, it would save him; that his inactivity
was his destruction, and that to set his labourers to work was to feed
them? Now, you may add acre to acre, and estate to estate, as far as you
like, but you will never reach a compass of ground which shall escape
from the authority of these simple laws. The principles which are right
in the administration of a few fields, are right also in the
administration of a great country from horizon to horizon: idleness
does not cease to be ruinous because it is extensive, nor labour to be
productive because it is universal.

13. Nay, but you reply, there is one vast difference between the
nation's economy and the private man's: the farmer has full authority
over his labourers; he can direct them to do what is needed to be done,
whether they like it or not; and he can turn them away if they refuse to
work, or impede others in their working, or are disobedient, or
quarrelsome. There _is_ this great difference; it is precisely this
difference on which I wish to fix your attention, for it is precisely
this difference which you have to do away with. We know the necessity of
authority in farm, or in fleet, or in army; but we commonly refuse to
admit it in the body of the nation. Let us consider this point a little.

14. In the various awkward and unfortunate efforts which the French have
made at the development of a social system, they have at least stated
one true principle, that of fraternity or brotherhood. Do not be
alarmed; they got all wrong in their experiments, because they quite
forgot that this fact of fraternity implied another fact quite as
important--that of paternity, or fatherhood. That is to say, if they
were to regard the nation as one family, the condition of unity in that
family consisted no less in their having a head, or a father, than in
their being faithful and affectionate members, or brothers. But we must
not forget this, for we have long confessed it with our lips, though we
refuse to confess it in our lives. For half an hour every Sunday we
expect a man in a black gown, supposed to be telling us truth, to
address us as brethren, though we should be shocked at the notion of any
brotherhood existing among us out of church. And we