“Because,” said the old man, speaking slowly, and with emphasis, “we are mere self-seekers.”

Mr. Markland had bent toward him, eager for the answer; but the words fell coldly, and with scarce a ray of intelligence in them, on his ears.  He sighed faintly and leaned back in his seat, while a look of disappointment shadowed his countenance.

“Can you understand,” said Mr. Allison, “the proposition that man, aggregated, as well as in the individual, is in the human form?”

Markland gazed inquiringly into the questioner’s face.  “In the human form as to uses?” said Mr. Allison.  “How as to uses?”

“Aggregate men into larger or smaller bodies, and, in the attainment of ends proposed, you will find some directing, as the head, and some executing, as the hands.”

“True.”

“Society, then, is only a man in a larger form.  Now, there are voluntary, as well as involuntary associations; the voluntary, such as, from certain ends, individuals form one with another; the involuntary, that of the common society in which we live.  Let us look for a moment at the voluntary association, and consider it as man in a larger form.  You see how all thought conspires to a single end and how judgment speaks in a single voice.  The very first act of organization is to choose a head for direction, and hands to execute the will of this larger man.  And now mark well this fact:  Efficient action by this aggregated man depends wholly upon the unselfish exercise by each part of its function for the good of the whole.  Defect and disorder arise the moment the head seeks power or aggrandizement for itself, the hands work for their good alone, or the feet strive to bear the body alone the paths they only wish to tread.  Disease follows, if the evil is not remedied; disease, the sure precursor of dissolution.  How disturbed and unhappy each member of such an aggregated man must be, you can at once perceive.

“If it is so in the voluntary man of larger form, how can it be different in the involuntary man, or the man of common society?”

“Of this great body you are a member.  In it you are sustained, and live by virtue of its wonderful organization.  From the blood circulating in its veins you obtain nutrition, and as its feet move forward, you are borne onward in the general progression.  From all its active senses you receive pleasure or intelligence; and yet this larger man of society is diseased—­all see, all feel, all lament this—­fearfully diseased.  It contains not a single member that does not suffer pain.  You are not exempt, favourable as is your position.  If you enjoy the good attained by the whole, you have yet to bear a portion of the evil suffered by the whole.  Let me add, that if you find the cause of unhappiness in this larger man, you will find it in yourself.  Think!  Where does it lie?”

“You have given me the clue,” replied Mr. Markland, “in your picture of the voluntarily aggregated man.  In this involuntary man of common society, to which, as you have said, we all bear relation as members, each seeks his own good, regardless of the good of the whole; and there is, therefore, a constant war among the members.”