etimes thought we almost worshipped--the
rights, even the notions or whims, of the individual citizen. With us
the first object of the state, as an organization, is to care for the
individual citizen, be he man, woman, or child. We consider the state to
be made for the better and higher training of men, much as your divines
say that the Church is. Instead of our lumping our citizens, therefore,
and treating Jenny Lind and Tom Heenan to the same dose of public
schooling,--instead of saying that what is sauce for the goose is sauce
for the gander,--we try to see that each individual is protected in the
enjoyment, not of what the majority likes, but of what he chooses, so
long as his choice injures no other man."

I thought, in one whiff, of Stuart Mill, and of the coppersmiths.

"Our horse-railroad system grew out of this theory," continued he. "As
long ago as Herodotus, people lived here in houses one story high, with
these gardens between. But some generations ago, a young fellow named
Apollidorus, who had been to Edinburgh, pulled down his father's house
and built a block of what you call houses on the site of it. They were
five stories high, had basements, and so on, with windows fore and aft,
and, of course, none on the sides. The old fogies looked aghast. But he
found plenty of fools to hire them. But the tenants had not been in a
week, when the Kategoros, district attorney, had him up 'for taking
away from a citizen what he could not restore.' This, you must know, is
one of the severest charges in our criminal code.

"Of course, it was easy enough to show that the tenants went willingly;
he showed dumb-waiters, and I know not what infernal contrivances of
convenience within. But he could not show that the tenants had north
windows and south windows, because they did not. The government, on
their side, showed that men were made to breathe fresh air, and that he
could not ventilate his houses as if they were open on all sides; they
showed that women were not made to climb up and down ladders, and to
live on stages at the tops of them; and he tried in vain to persuade the
jury that this climbing was good for little children. He had lured these
citizens into places dangerous for health, growth, strength, and
comfort. And so he was compelled to erect a statue typical of strength,
and a small hospital for infants, as his penalty. That spirited
Hercules, which stands in front of the market, was a part of his fine.

"Of