Manifested by Animals of every Species.—The child rejoices in the company of its fellows. The lower animals manifest the same regard for each other's society, and are unhappy when separated from their kind. Much of the attachment of the dog to his master may, not improbably, be owing to the same source. The beast of labor is cheered and animated by his master's presence, and the patient ox as he toils along the furrow, or the highway, moves more willingly when he hears the well-known step and voice of his owner trudging by his side. Every one knows how much the horse is inspirited by the chance companionship, upon the way, of a fellow-laborer of his own species. Horses that have been accustomed to each other's society on the road, or in the stall, frequently manifest the greatest uneasiness and dejection when separated; and it has been observed by those acquainted with the habits of animals, that cattle do not thrive as well, even in good pasture, when solitary, as when feeding in herds.
Social Organizations of Animals.—Accordingly we find most animals, when left to the instinct of nature, associating in herds, and tribes, larger or smaller, according to the habits of the animal. They form their little communities, have their leaders, and, to some extent, their laws, acknowledged and obeyed by all, their established customs and modes of procedure—in which associations, thus regulated, it is impossible not to recognize the essential feature and principle of what man, in his political associations of the same nature, calls the state. What else are the little communities of the bee, and the ant, and the beaver, but so many busy cities, and states, of the insect and animal tribes?
The social State not adopted because of its Advantages merely.—It may be said that man derives advantages from the social state, and adopts it for that reason. Unquestionably he does derive immense advantages from it; but is that the reason he desires it? Is the desire of society consequent upon the advantages, experienced or foreseen, which accrue from it, or are the advantages consequent upon the desire and the adoption of the state in question? Is it matter of expediency and calculation, of policy and necessity, or of native instinct and implanted constitutional desire? What is it with the lower animals? Has not nature provided in their very constitution for their prospective wants, and, by implanting in them the desire for each other's society, laid the foundation for their congregating in tribes and communities? Is it not reasonable to suppose that the same may be true of man? The analogy of nature, the early manifestation of the principle prior to education and experience, the universality and uniformity of its operation, and the fact that it shows itself often in all its strength under circumstances in which very little benefit would seem to result from the social condition, as with the savage races of the extreme North, and with many rude and uncultivated tribes of the forest and the desert—all these circumstances go to show that the desire of society is founded in the nature of man, and is not a mere matter of calculation and policy.
Man's Nature deficient without this Principle.—And this is a sufficient answer to the theory of those who, with Hobbes, regard the social condition of man as the result of his perception of what is for his own interest, the dictate of prudence and necessity. The very fact that it is for his interest would lead us to expect that some provision should be made for it in his nature; and this is precisely what we find to be the case. Were it otherwise, we should feel that, in one important respect, the nature of man was deficient, inferior even to that of the brute. But the truth is, the whole history of the race is one complete and compact contradiction of the theory of Hobbes, and shows with the clearness of demonstration, that the natural condition of man is not that of seclusion, and isolation from his fellows, but of society and companionship.
Strength of this Principle.—So strongly is this principle rooted in the very depths of our nature, that when man is for a length of time shut out from the society of his fellow men, he seeks the acquaintance and companionship of brutes, and even of insects, and those animals for whom, in his usual condition, he has a marked repugnance, as a relief from utter loneliness and absolute solitude. Mr. Stewart relates the instance of a French nobleman, shut up for several years a close prisoner in the Castle of Pignerol, during the reign of Louis XIV., who amused himself, in his solitude, by watching the movements of a spider, to which he at length became so much attached, that when the jailor, discovering his amusement, killed the spider, he was afflicted with the deepest grief. Silvio Pellico, in his imprisonment, amused himself in like manner. Baron Trench sought to alleviate the wretchedness of his long imprisonment, by cultivating the acquaintance or friendship of a mouse, which in turn manifested a strong attachment to him, played about his person, and took its food from his hand. The fact having been discovered by the officers, the mouse was removed to the guard-room, but managed to find its way back to the prison door, and, at the hour of visitation, when the door was opened, ran into the dungeon, and manifested the greatest delight at finding its master. Being subsequently removed and placed in a cage, it pined, refused all sustenance, and in a few days died. "The loss of this little companion made me for some time quite melancholy," adds the narrator.
Case of Silvio Pellico.—How strongly is the desire for society manifested in these words of Silvio Pellico, when forbidden to converse with his fellow-prisoner. "I shall do no such thing. I shall speak as long as I have breath, and invite my neighbor to talk to me. If he refuse, I will talk to my window-bars. I will talk to the hills before me. I will talk to the birds as they fly about. I will talk."
Facts of this nature clearly indicate that the love of society is originally implanted in the human mind.
Illustrated from the History of Prison Discipline.—The same thing is further evident from the effects of entire seclusion from all society, as shown in the history of prison discipline. For the facts which follow, as well as for some of the preceding, I am indebted to Mr. Upham.
The legislature of New York some years since, by way of experiment, directed a number of the most hardened criminals in the State prison at Auburn, to be confined in solitary cells, without labor, and without intermission of their solitude. The result is thus stated by Messrs. Beaumont and Tocqueville, who were subsequently appointed commissioners by the French government to examine and report on the American system of prison discipline. "This, trial from which so happy a result had been anticipated, was fatal to the greater part of the convicts; in order to reform them, they had been subjected to complete isolation; but this absolute solitude, if nothing interrupts it, is beyond the strength of man; it destroys the criminal, without intermission, and without pity; it does not reform, it kills. The unfortunates on whom this experiment was made, fell into a state of depression so manifest that their keepers were struck with it; their lives seemed in danger if they remained longer in this situation; five of them had already succumbed during a single year; their moral state was no less alarming; one of them had become insane; another, in a fit of despair, had embraced the opportunity, when the keeper brought him something, to precipitate himself from his cell, running the almost certain chance of a mortal fall. Upon those, and similar effects, the system was finally judged." The same results substantially have followed similar experiments in other prisons. It is stated by Lieber, that in the penitentiary of New Jersey, ten persons are mentioned as having been killed by solitary confinement. Facts like these show how deeply-rooted in our nature is the desire of society, and how essential to our happiness is the companionship of our fellow-beings.