eing an organism,
a thing of development, the duty of thinkers is to demonstrate the
nature of sociological laws, and allow them free scope for operation. To
this is due much of the apparent hardness of Eighteenth Century
political speculation, which, beginning with the French Physiocratic
School, culminated in the works of Adam Smith, Ricardo, Bentham, and the
two Mills. With those thinkers, the one palpable lesson of the past was
the duty of abstaining from interference with the general process of
social development. Give man liberty, said the Utilitarian Radicals, and
he will work out his own salvation: from the play of individual
self-interest, social harmony will result.

Carlyle is frequently thought of as a Conservative force in politics. In
some respects he was more Radical than the Benthams and the Mills. His
deeper ideal conception of society intensified his dissatisfaction with
society as it existed. In fact, to Carlyle's attack upon those
institutions, beliefs and ceremonies which had no better basis than mere
unreasoning authority, most of the Radicalism of the early 'forties' was
due. Conceive what effect language like this must have had upon
thoughtful, high-souled young men: 'Call ye that a Society, where there
is no longer any Social Idea extant; not so much as the Idea of a common
Home, but only of a common overcrowded Lodging-house? Where each,
isolated, regardless of his neighbour, turned against his neighbour,
clutches what he can get, and cries "Mine!" and calls it Peace because,
in the cut-purse and cut-throat Scramble, no steel knives, but only a
far cunninger sort, can be employed? Where Friendship, Communion, has
become an incredible tradition; and your holiest Sacramental Supper is a
smoking Tavern Dinner, with Cook for Evangelist? Where your Priest has
no tongue but for plate-licking; and your high Guides and Governors
cannot guide; but on all hands hear it passionately proclaimed: _Laissez
faire_; leave us alone of your guidance, such light is darker than
darkness; eat your wages and sleep. Thus, too, must an observant eye
discern everywhere that saddest spectacle: the Poor perishing, like
neglected, foundered Draught-Cattle, of Hunger and Overwork; the Rich,
still more wretchedly, of Idleness, Satiety, and Overgrowth. The Highest
in rank, at length, without honour from the Lowest; scarcely, with a
little mouth-honour, as from tavern-waiters who expect to put it in the
bill. Once sacred Symb