A progressive society is now constantly and justly compared to a growing organism. Its vitality in this aspect consists of a series of changes in ideas and institutions. These changes arise spontaneously from the operation of the whole body of social conditions，external and internal. The understanding and the affections and desires are always acting on the domestic，political，and economic ordering. They influence the religious sentiment. They touch relations with societies outside. In turn they are constantly being acted on by all these elements. In a society progressing in a normal and uninterrupted course，this play and interaction is the sign and essence of life. It is，as we are so often told，a long process of new adaptations and re-adaptations; of the modification of tradition and usage by truer ideas and improved institutions. There may be，and there are，epochs of rest，when this modification in its active and demonstrative shape slackens or ceases to be visible. But even then the modifying forces are only latent. Further progress depends on the revival of their energy，before there has been time for the social structure to become ossified and inelastic. The history of civilisation is the history of the displacement of old conceptions by new ones more conformable to the facts. It is the record of the removal of old institutions and ways of living，in favour of others of greater convenience and ampler capacity，at once multiplying and satisfying human requirements.
Now compromise，in view of the foregoing theory of social advance，may be of two kinds，and of these two kinds one is legitimate and the other not. It may stand for two distinct attitudes of mind，one of them obstructive and the other not. It may mean the deliberate suppression or mutilation of an idea，in order to make it congruous with the traditional idea or the current prejudice on the given subject，whatever that may be. Or else it may mean a rational acquiescence in the fact that the bulk of your contemporaries are not yet prepared either to embrace the new idea，or to change their ways of living in conformity to it. In the one case，the compromiser rejects the highest truth，or dissembles his own acceptance of it. In the other，he holds it courageously for his ensign and device，but neither forces nor expects the whole world straightway to follow. The first prolongs the duration of the empire of prejudice，and retards the arrival of improvement. The second does his best to abbreviate the one，and to hasten and make definite the other，yet he does not insist on hurrying changes which，to be effective，would require the active support of numbers of persons not yet ripe for them. It is legitimate compromise to say:—'I do not expect you to execute this improvement，or to surrender that prejudice，in my time. But at any rate it shall not be my fault if the improvement remains unknown or rejected. There shall be one man at least who has surrendered the prejudice，and who does not hide that fact.' It is illegitimate compromise to say:—'I cannot persuade you to accept my truth; therefore I will pretend to accept your falsehood.'
That this distinction is as sound on the evolutional theory of society as on any other is quite evident. It would be odd if the theory which makes progress depend on modification forbade us to attempt to modify. When it is said that the various successive changes in thought and institution present and consummate themselves spontaneously，no one means by spontaneity that they come to pass independently of human effort and volition. On the contrary，this energy of the members of the society is one of the spontaneous elements. It is quite as indispensable as any other of them，if indeed it be not more so. Progress depends upon tendencies and forces in a community. But of these tendencies and forces，the organs and representatives must plainly be found among the men and women of the community，and cannot possibly be found anywhere else. Progress is not automatic，in the sense that if we were all to be cast into a deep slumber for the space of a generation，we should awake to find ourselves in a greatly improved social state. The world only grows better，even in the moderate degree in which it does grow better，because people wish that it should，and take the right steps to make it better. Evolution is not a force，but a process; not a cause，but a law. It explains the source，and marks the immovable limitations，of social energy. But social energy itself can never be superseded either by evolution or by anything else.
The reproach of being impracticable and artificial attaches by rights not to those who insist on resolute，persistent，and uncompromising efforts to remove abuses，but to a very different class—to those，namely，who are credulous enough to suppose that abuses and bad customs and wasteful ways of doing things will remove themselves. This credulity，which is a cloak for indolence or ignorance or stupidity，overlooks the fact that there are bodies of men，more or less numerous，attached by every selfish interest they have to the maintenance of these abusive customs. 'A plan,' says Bentham，'may be said to be too good to be practicable，where，without adequate inducement in the shape of personal interest，it requires for its accomplishment that some individual or class of individuals shall have made a sacrifice of his or their personal interest to the interest of the whole. When it is on the part of a body of men or a multitude of individuals taken at random that any such sacrifice is reckoned upon，then it is that in speaking of the plan the term Utopian may without impropriety be applied.' And this is the very kind of sacrifice which must be anticipated by those who so misunderstand the doctrine of evolution as to believe that the world is improved by some mystic and self-acting social discipline，which dispenses with the necessity of pertinacious attack upon institutions that have outlived their time，and interests that have lost their justification.
We are thus brought to the position—to which，indeed，bare observation of actual occurrences might well bring us，if it were not for the clouding disturbances of selfishness，or of a true philosophy of society wrongly applied—that a society can only pursue its normal course by means of a certain progression of changes，and that these changes can only be initiated by individuals or very small groups of individuals. The progressive tendency can only be a tendency，it can only work its way through the inevitable obstructions around it，by means of persons who are possessed by the special progressive idea. Such ideas do not spring up uncaused and unconditioned in vacant space. They have had a definite origin and ordered antecedents. They are in direct relation with the past. They present themselves to one person or little group of persons rather than to another，because circumstances，or the accident of a superior faculty of penetration，have placed the person or group in the way of such ideas. In matters of social improvement the most common reason why one hits upon a point of progress and not another，is that the one happens to be more directly touched than the other by the unimproved practice. Or he is one of those rare intelligences，active，alert，inventive，which by constitution or training find their chief happiness in thinking in a disciplined and serious manner how things can be better done. In all cases the possession of a new idea，whether practical or speculative，only raises into definite speech what others have needed without being able to make their need articulate. This is the principle on which experience shows us that fame and popularity are distributed. A man does not become celebrated in proportion to his general capacity，but because he does or says something which happened to need doing or saying at the moment.
This brings us directly to our immediate subject. For such a man is the holder of a trust It is upon him and those who are like him that the advance of a community depends. If he is silent，then repair is checked，and the hurtful elements of worn-out beliefs and waste institutions remain to enfeeble the society，just as the retention of waste products enfeebles or poisons the body. If in a spirit of modesty which is often genuine，though it is often only a veil for love of ease，he asks why he rather than another should speak，why he before others should refuse compliance and abstain from conformity，the answer is that though the many are ultimately moved，it is always one who is first to leave the old encampment. If the maxim of the compromiser were sound，it ought to be capable of universal application. Nobody has a right to make an apology for himself in this matter，which he will not allow to be valid for others. If one has a right to conceal his true opinions，and to practice equivocal conformities，then all have a right. One plea for exemption is in this case as good as another，and no better. That he has married a wife，that he has bought a yoke of oxen and must prove them，that he has bidden guests to a feast—one excuse lies on the same level as the rest. All are equally worthless as answers to the generous solicitation of enlightened conscience. Suppose，then，that each man on whom in turn the new ideas dawned wore to borrow the compromiser's plea and imitate his example. We know what would happen. The exploit in which no one will consent to go first，remains unachieved. You wait until there are persons enough agreeing with you to form an effective party? But how are the members of the band to know one another，if all are to keep their dissent from the old，and their adherence to the new，rigorously private? And how many members constitute the innovating band an effective force! When one-half of the attendants at a church are unbelievers，will that warrant us in ceasing to attend，or shall we tarry until the dissemblers number two-thirds? Conceive the additions which your caution has made to the moral integrity of the community in the meantime. Measure the enormous hindrances that will have been placed in the way of truth and improvement，when the day at last arrives on which you and your two-thirds take heart to say that falsehood and abuse have now reached their final term，and must at length be swept away into the outer darkness. Consider how much more terrible the shock of change will be when it does come，and how much less able will men be to meet it，and to emerge successfully from it.
Perhaps the compromiser shrinks，not because he fears to march alone，but because he thinks that the time has not yet come for the progressive idea which he has made his own，and for whose triumph one day he confidently hopes. This plea may mean two wholly different states of the case. The time has not yet come for what? For making those positive changes in life or institution，which the change in idea must ultimately involve? That is one thing. Or for propagating，elaborating，enforcing the new idea，and strenuously doing all that one can to bring as many people as possible to a state of theory，which will at last permit the requisite change in practice to be made with safety and success? This is another and entirely different thing. The time may not have come for the first of these two courses. The season may not be advanced enough for us to push on to active conquest. But the time has always come，and the season is never unripe，for the announcement of the fruitful idea.
We must go further than that. In so far as it can be done by one man without harming his neighbours，the time has always come for the realisation of an idea. When the change in way of living or in institution is one which requires the assent and co-operation of numbers of people，it may clearly be a matter for question whether men enough are ready to yield assent and co-operation. But the expression of the necessity of the change and the grounds of it，though it may not always be appropriate，can never be premature，and for these reasons. The fact of a new idea having come to one man is a sign that it is in the air. The innovator is as much the son of his generation as the conservative. Heretics have as direct a relation to antecedent conditions as the orthodox. Truth，said Bacon，has been rightly named the daughter of Time. The new idea does not spring up uncaused and by miracle. If it has come to me，there must be others to whom it has only just missed coming. If I have found my way to the light，there must be others groping after it very close in my neighbourhood. My discovery is their goal. They are prepared to receive the new truth，which they were not prepared to find for themselves. The fact that the mass are not yet ready to receive，any more than to find，is no reason why the possessor of the new truth should run to hide under a bushel the candle which has been lighted for him. If the time has not come for them，at least it has come for him. No man can ever know whether his neighbours are ready for change or not. He has all the following certainties，at least:—that he himself is ready for the change; that he believes it would be a good and beneficent one; that unless some one begins the work of preparation，assuredly there will be no consummation; and that if he declines to take a part in the matter，there can be no reason why every one else in turn should not decline in like manner，and so the work remain for ever unperformed. The compromiser who blinds himself to all those points，and acts just as if the truth were not in him，does for ideas with which he agrees，the very thing which the acute persecutor does for ideas which he dislikes—he extinguishes beginnings and kills the germs.
The consideration on which so many persons rely，that an existing institution，though destined to be replaced by a better，performs useful functions provisionally，is really not to the point. It is an excellent reason why the institution should not be removed or fundamentally modified，until public opinion is ripe for the given piece of improvement. But it is no reason at all why those who are anxious for the improvement，should speak and act just as they would do if they thought the change perfectly needless and undesirable. It is no reason why those who allow the provisional utility of a belief or an institution or a custom of living，should think solely of the utility and forget the equally important element of its provisionalness. For the fact of its being provisional is the very ground why every one who perceives this element，should set himself to act accordingly. It is the ground why he should set himself，in other words，to draw opinion in every way open to him—by speech，by voting，by manner of life and conduct—in the direction of new truth and the better practice. Let us not，because we deem a thing to be useful for the hour，act as if it were to be useful for ever. The people who selfishly seek to enjoy as much comfort and ease as they can in an existing state of things，with the desperate maxim，'After us，the deluge,' are not any worse than those who cherish present comfort and case and take the world as it comes，in the fatuous and self-deluding hope，'After us，the millennium.' Those who make no sacrifice to avert the deluge，and those who make none to hasten their millennium，are on the same moral level. And the former have at least the quality of being no worse than their avowed principle，while the latter nullify their pretended hopes by conformities which are only proper either to profound social contentment，or to profound social despair. Nay，they seem to think that there is some merit in this merely speculative hopefulness. They act as if they supposed that to be very sanguine about the general improvement of mankind，is a virtue that relieves them from taking trouble about any improvement in particular.
