What, then, would be the task of the statesman who should undertake such a reform? First, then, in every new step which is out of the course of things as they exist, he must be guided strictly by the precepts of abstract theory, except where there are circumstances in the present on which to try to graft it would be to frustrate wholly, or in part, the proper consequences of that theory. Secondly, he must allow all restrictions on freedom to remain untouched which are once rooted in the present, so long as men do not show by unmistakable signs that they regard them as enthralling bonds, that they feel their oppressive influence, that they are ripe for an increase of freedom in these respects; but when this is shown, he must immediately remove them. Finally, he must make men thus ripe for enlarged freedom by every possible means. This last duty is unquestionably the most important, and at the same time, as regards this system, the simplest. For by nothing is this ripeness and capacity for freedom so much promoted as by freedom itself. This truth, perhaps, may not be acknowledged by those who have so often made use of this want of capacity as a plea for the continuance of repressive influences. But it seems to me to follow unquestionably from the very nature of man. The incapacity for freedom can only arise from a want of moral and intellectual power; to elevate this power is the only way to counteract this want; but to do this presupposes the exercise of that power, and this exercise presupposes the freedom which awakens spontaneous activity. Only it is clear we cannot call it giving freedom, when fetters are unloosed which are not felt as such by him who wears them. But of no man on earth — however neglected by nature, and however degraded by circumstances—is this true of all the bonds which oppress and enthral him. Let us undo them one by one, as the feeling of freedom awakens in men's hearts, and we shall hasten progress at every step. There may still be great
