The development of law, or of a general method, is the necessary result of social interchange, through which thoughts and feelings become contagious and mould a general will. In primitive society, individuals are isolated, and it matters little to others what any individual does; hence he is allowed to settle his own difficulties in his own way. He is let alone in a way so terrible, that similar treatment would be social death to a man of culture. We repeat, there is nothing like absolute individuality, except among isolated and unsocial savages. In an advanced state of society, human interests become interrelated—a complete network of complexity; and what any particular individual does becomes a matter of interest to many, since the many are, to a certain extent, affected thereby. The individual of civilization has developed relations external to himself, and his rights can only be secured and his tastes and wants gratified by mutual understanding, coöperation, and combination. His individuality is of a far higher order than that of the uncultivated man; and precisely because it is higher, does it develop law as the embodiment of the general will, and require organization for its expression. 'It is through association that the highest form of individuation becomes possible; and nationality wisely developed will terminate in a cosmopolitan identity of interests, and a general unity founded upon a reciprocity of services among all the divisions of mankind.' (Slack.)
It is owing to this same fact of the interrelation and dependence of interests, that the movement of unitization has not stopped in Europe with the organization of a distinct government for each nation. We have observed that when primitive individuals develop relations with each other, they form into small societies, and that when these develop relations with like societies, they unite and form larger associations; and further, that these states, cities, baronies, come at length to develop relations with each other, and the result is their union into kingdoms. But this tendency of growth does not cease here. One nation cannot long remain isolated and distinct from other nations. The interests of one kingdom become, in many ways, interrelated with the interests of other kingdoms; and there must be new governmental appliances to meet the case. Diplomacy, a new function of government, arose from this necessity. This is a political activity of quite recent development: it originated in the fifteenth century. Like all progressive developments, it was at first immature; 'it was not till the seventeenth century that it became really systematic; before then it had not brought about long alliances, great combinations, and especially combinations of a durable nature, directed by fixed principles, with a steady object, and with that spirit of consistency which forms the true character of established government.' (Guizot.)
Who can say that we have yet seen the end of this process of national development? Centuries have been required for all great changes affecting the destiny of man: the centuries of the great Future may yet develop a unity among the nations themselves—a distinct political organism for the regulation of national interests, which are constantly becoming more interrelated and complex. As cities, states, and baronies were developed from individuals and tribes, and as kingdoms were developed from cities, states, and baronies, so may a mightier political fabric than has yet been known be developed from the family of nations!
The law, we repeat, is, that with the advance of social dependence and complexity, the principle of unitization becomes practically more intimate and comprehensive. It is to this law that nations owe that vitality of which diplomatists and constitutional lawyers take cognizance. By virtue of this law, a nation is a living organism, resisting with all its vital force whatever may threaten it with dissolution. Hence the utter folly of cherishing the idea of a 'peaceable separation' of confederated states. There can be no such thing in the order of nature. The rupture and division of a nation is a reaction against the spirit of social progress, a backward movement against the current of civilization, a terrible outrage to the organizing forces of the political realm, and can only be effected through violence and bloodshed. The more mature civilization becomes, the more difficult to effect disunion, the more terrible the penalty, and the more enduring, discordant, and wretched the consequences.
The law of unitization is a universal one, being an accompaniment of all unfolding, and man worse than wastes his energy in fighting against it. It is a great law of Universal Progress; and in lifting our hands against it, we are presuming to measure arms with a Power which will be sure to overwhelm us with confusion and defeat. We must consent to go with the grand movements of the Universe, and to march to the step of Destiny, or be crushed under the resistless tread of advancing peoples!
The course of industrial, mechanical, and commercial progress from savage to civilized life, goes to illustrate and confirm the view which we have taken of the course of political development.
Among the least cultivated tribes of mankind, the family is wholly adequate to itself, there being no dissimilarity of industrial function, except between the husband and wife. The family builds its own hut, makes its own weapons, kills its own game—in short, provides for all its own needs. What is industrially true of one family is true of all others; there is no division of labor, no exchange of products. They have no accumulated property, no fixed habitation, but wander from place to place, as the attractions of their simple life may lead them. But when population becomes more numerous, and neither hunting nor pasturage is sufficient for their support, the cultivation of the soil is resorted to, and new wants are developed. The division of labor, the differentiation of the industrial function begins. One man cultivates the soil, another works in iron, another in wood, and so on; and these specialities, in their turn, assume new branches. Take agriculture for example: At first every husbandman grows all that he needs for himself and family; after a while he observes that his soil is better adapted to one kind of crop than another, and he devotes himself more exclusively to its cultivation. A similar result with a different crop obtains on a different soil and in a different locality; and thus do the specialities of soil and climate result in the specialization of agriculture. These diversities of occupation with reference to the soil, wood, metals, imply the exchange of products; but this must obtain to a very limited extent while neighbors are remote, and the means of travel and transportation defective. With few roads, and commerce undeveloped, there is little intercommunication, little culture, little civilization. This was the condition of Scotland as late as the middle of the eighteenth century. (Buckle.) England had some external commerce as early as the thirteenth century (Hallam), but did not send a ship of her own into the Mediterranean till the fifteenth. (Robertson.) Think of the difference between then and now!
The making of tools, implements, and fabrics is at first carried on solely by individuals working alone, but at length, machinery comes into use, the elements are used as driving power, and manufacturing establishments arise having a complicated organization. The division of labor has been all the time becoming more complete, till now a single workman manages but a part of the process of making an implement or a fabric, which must pass through many hands in succession before it is completed. All are familiar with this fact. It is exactly analogous to that which we observe in the animal economy. Low in the zoological scale, one membrane performs all the organic functions; higher in the scale, there are different organs to perform the distinct functions. When the stomach and liver first appear, they are very simple in structure, and as simple in function; it is just so with the manufactories in the industrial organism. But the stomach and liver become more complicated as the scale rises; it is just so with the manufactories as civilization advances. Animals lowest in the scale have no heart—no circulation. It is just so with society—if society it may be called—which is lowest in the scale; it has no exchange of products—no commercial circulation. The parallelism is complete.
Further, as already specified, we find in the animal organism, that the dependence of parts and functions upon each other becomes greater with the increase of complexity; that unitization at the top of the scale, in the midst of an almost infinite complication of organic structures and functions, has a completeness and significance which it cannot have in the simple organism at the bottom of the scale. The same precisely is true of the social organism. At the bottom of the scale, there is no dependence of one part on another—no coöperation—no proper unity—nothing but simple individual life. Higher in the scale, there is dependence of one element of society on another; there must be coöperation, combination, organization, a tendency, at least, toward unity.
This is well exemplified by industrial and commercial development. With regard to manufacturing, there is specialization, not only in the handiwork, but also in the locality of production. Thus, in Great Britain, where this development has most fully matured itself, 'the calico manufacture locates itself in this county, the woollen-cloth manufacture in that; silks are produced here, lace there, stockings in one place, shoes in another; pottery, hardware, cutlery, come to have their special towns; and ultimately, every locality becomes more or less distinguished from the rest by the leading occupation carried on in it. Nay, more, this subdivision of functions shows itself, not only among the different parts of the same nation, but among different nations.' (Westminster Review.) Some of our economists object to this process, and would bring all kinds of productive labor into the same district; but a law higher than their theories brings artisans of the same kind into the neighborhood of each other;—it is the coöperative action of the principles of differentiation and unitization.