BY WILL DURANT
The Story of Philosophy
Transition
The Pleasure of Philosophy
Adventures in Genius
BY WILL AND ARIEL DURANT
THE STORY OF CIVILIZATION
1. Our Oriental Heritage
2. The Life of Greece
3. Caesar and Christ
4. The Age of Faith
5. The Renaissance
6. The Reformation
7. The Age of Reason Begins
8. The Age of Louis XIV
9. The Age of Voltaire
10. Rousseau and Revolution
11. The Age of Napoleon
The Lessons of History
Interpretation of Life
A Dual Autobiography
Copyright 1935 by Will Durant
Copyright renewed © 1963 by Will Durant
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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TO ARIEL
Preface
I HAVE tried in this book to accomplish the first part of a pleasant assignment which I rashly laid upon myself some twenty years ago: to write a history of civilization. I wish to tell as much as I can, in as little space as I can, of the contributions that genius and labor have made to the cultural heritage of mankind—to chronicle and contemplate, in their causes, character and effects, the advances of invention, the varieties of economic organization, the experiments in government, the aspirations of religion, the mutations of morals and manners, the masterpieces of literature, the development of science, the wisdom of philosophy, and the achievements of art. I do not need to be told how absurd this enterprise is, nor how immodest is its very conception; for many years of effort have brought it to but a fifth of its completion, and have made it clear that no one mind, and no single lifetime, can adequately compass this task. Nevertheless I have dreamed that despite the many errors inevitable in this undertaking, it may be of some use to those upon whom the passion for philosophy has laid the compulsion to try to see things whole, to pursue perspective, unity and understanding through history in time, as well as to seek them through science in space.
I have long felt that our usual method of writing history in separate longitudinal sections—economic history, political history, religious history, the history of philosophy, the history of literature, the history of science, the history of music, the history of art—does injustice to the unity of human life; that history should be written collaterally as well as lineally, synthetically as well as analytically; and that the ideal historiography would seek to portray in each period the total complex of a nation’s culture, institutions, adventures and ways. But the accumulation of knowledge has divided history, like science, into a thousand isolated specialties; and prudent scholars have refrained from attempting any view of the whole—whether of the material universe, or of the living past of our race. For the probability of error increases with the scope of the undertaking, and any man who sells his soul to synthesis will be a tragic target for a myriad merry darts of specialist critique. “Consider,” said Ptah-hotep five thousand years ago, “how thou mayest be opposed by an expert in council. It is foolish to speak on every kind of work.”* A history of civilization shares the presumptuousness of every philosophical enterprise: it offers the ridiculous spectacle of a fragment expounding the whole. Like philosophy, such a venture has no rational excuse, and is at best but a brave stupidity; but let us hope that, like philosophy, it will always lure some rash spirits into its fatal depths.
The plan of the series is to narrate the history of civilization in five independent parts:
I. Our Oriental Heritage: a history of civilization in Egypt and the Near East to the death of Alexander, and in India, China and Japan to the present day; with an introduction on the nature and elements of civilization.
II. Our Classical Heritage: a history of civilization in Greece and Rome, and of civilization in the Near East under Greek and Roman domination.
III. Our Medieval Heritage: Catholic and feudal Europe, Byzantine civilization, Mohammedan and Judaic culture in Asia, Africa and Spain, and the Italian Renaissance.
IV. Our European Heritage: the cultural history of the European states from the Protestant Reformation to the French Revolution.
V. Our Modern Heritage: the history of European invention and statesmanship, science and philosophy, religion and morals, literature and art from the accession of Napoleon to our own times.
Our story begins with the Orient, not merely because Asia was the scene of the oldest civilizations known to us, but because those civilizations formed the background and basis of that Greek and Roman culture which Sir Henry Maine mistakenly supposed to be the whole source of the modern mind. We shall be surprised to learn how much of our most indispensable inventions, our economic and political organization, our science and our literature, our philosophy and our religion, goes back to Egypt and the Orient,† At this historic moment—when the ascendancy of Europe is so rapidly coming to an end, when Asia is swelling with resurrected life, and the theme of the twentieth century seems destined to be an all-embracing conflict between the East and the West—the provincialism of our traditional histories, which began with Greece and summed up Asia in a line, has become no merely academic error, but a possibly fatal failure of perspective and intelligence. The future faces into the Pacific, and understanding must follow it there.
But haw shall an Occidental mind ever understand the Orient? Eight years of study and travel have only made this, too, more evident—that not even a lifetime of devoted scholarship would suffice to initiate a Western student into the subtle character and secret lore of the East. Every chapter, every paragraph in this book will offend or amuse some patriotic or esoteric soul: the orthodox Jew will need all his ancient patience to forgive the pages on Yahveh; the metaphysical Hindu will mourn this superficial scratching of Indian philosophy; and the Chinese or Japanese sage will smile indulgently at these brief and inadequate selections from the wealth of Far Eastern literature and thought. Some of the errors in the chapter on Judea have been corrected by Professor Harry Wolf son of Harvard; Dr. Ananda Coomaraswamy of the Boston Institute of Fine Arts has given the section on India a most painstaking revision, but must not be held responsible for the conclusions I have reached or the errors that remain; Professor H. H. Gowen, the learned Orientalist of the University of Washington, and Upton Close, whose knowledge of the Orient seems inexhaustible, have checked the more flagrant mistakes in the chapters on China and Japan; and Mr. George Sokolsky has given to the pages on contemporary affairs in the Far East the benefit of his first-hand information. Should the public be indulgent enough to call for a second edition of this book, the opportunity will be taken to incorporate whatever further corrections may be suggested by critics, specialists and readers. Meanwhile a weary author may sympathize with Tai T’ung, who in the thirteenth century issued his History of Chinese Writing with these words: “Were I to await perfection, my book would never be finished.”*
Since these ear-minded times are not propitious for the popularity of expensive books on remote subjects of interest only to citizens of the world, it may be that the continuation of this series will be delayed by the prosaic necessities of economic life. But if the reception of this adventure in synthesis makes possible an uninterrupted devotion to the undertaking, Part Two should be ready by the fall of 1940, and its successors should appear, by the grace of health, at five-year intervals thereafter. Nothing would make me happier than to be freed, for this work, from every other literary enterprise. I shall proceed as rapidly as time and circumstance will permit, hoping that a few of my contemporaries will care to grow old with me while learning, and that these volumes may help some of our children to understand and enjoy the infinite riches of their inheritance.
WILL DURANT.
Great Neck, N. Y., March, 1935
A NOTE ON THE USE OF THIS BOOK
To bring the volume into smaller compass certain technical passages, which may prove difficult for the general reader, have been printed (like this paragraph) in reduced type. Despite much compression the book is still too long, and the font of reduced type has not sufficed to indicate all the dull passages. I trust that the reader will not attempt more than a chapter at a time.
Indented passages in reduced type are quotations. The raised numbers refer to the Notes at the end of the volume; to facilitate reference to these Notes the number of the chapter is given at the head of each page. An occasional hiatus in the numbering of the Notes was caused by abbreviating the printed text. The books referred to in the Notes are more fully described in the Bibliography, whose starred titles may serve as a guide to further reading. The Glossary defines all foreign words used in the text. The Index pronounces foreign names, and gives biographical dates.
It should be added that this book has no relation to, and makes no use of, a biographical Story of Civilization prepared for newspaper publication in 1927-28.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I am grateful to the following authors and publishers for permission to quote from their books:
Leonard, W. E., Gilgamesh; the Viking Press.
Giles, H. A., A History of Chinese Literature; D. Appleton-Century Co.
Underwood, Edna Worthley, Tu Fu; the Mosher Press.
Waley, Arthur, 170 Chinese Poems; Alfred A. Knopf.
Breasted, Jas. H., The Development of Religion and Thought in Ancient Egypt; Scribner’s.
Obata, Shigeyoshi, Works of Li Po; E. P. Dutton.
Tietjens, Eunice, Poetry of the Orient; Alfred A. Knopf.
Van Doren, Mark, Anthology of World Poetry; the Literary Guild.
“Upton Close,” unpublished translations of Chinese poems.
Contents
INTRODUCTION
THE ESTABLISHMENT OF CIVILIZATION
Chapter I: THE CONDITIONS OF CIVILIZATION
Definition—Geological conditions—Geographical—Economic—Racial—Psychological—Causes of the decay of civilizations
Chapter II: THE ECONOMIC ELEMENTS OF CIVILIZATION
I. FROM HUNTING TO TILLAGE
Primitive improvidence—Beginnings of provision—Hunting and fishing—Herding—The domestication of animals—Agriculture—Food—Cooking—Cannibalism
II. THE FOUNDATIONS OF INDUSTRY
Fire—Primitive Tools—Weaving and pottery—Building and transport—Trade and finance
III. ECONOMIC ORGANIZATION
Primitive communism—Causes of its disappearance—Origins of private property-Slavery—Classes
Chapter III: THE POLITICAL ELEMENTS OF CIVILIZATION
I. THE ORIGINS OF GOVERNMENT
The unsocial instinct—Primitive anarchism—The clan and the tribe—The king—War
II. THE STATE
As the organization of force—The village community—The psychological aides of the state
III. LAW
Law-lessness—Law and custom—Revenge—Fines—Courts—Ordeal—The duel—Punishment—Primitive freedom
IV. THE FAMILY
Its function in civilization—The clan vs. the family—Growth of parental care—Unimportance of the father—Separation of the sexes—Mother-right—Status of woman—Her occupations—Her economic achievements—The patriarchate—The subjection of woman
Chapter IV: THE MORAL ELEMENTS OF CIVILIZATION
I. MARRIAGE
The meaning of marriage—Its biological origins—Sexual communism—Trial marriage—Group marriage—Individual marriage—Polygamy—Its eugenic value—Exogamy-Marriage by service—By capture—By purchase—Primitive love—The economic’ function of marriage
II. SEXUAL MORALITY
Premarital relations—Prostitution—Chastity—Virginity—The double standard—Modesty—The relativity of morals—The biological rôle of modesty—Adultery—Divorce—Abortion—Infanticide—Childhood—The individual
III. SOCIAL MORALITY
The nature of virtue and vice—Greed—Dishonesty—Violence—Homicide—Suicide—The socialization of the individual—Altruism—Hospitality—Manners—Tribal limits of morality—Primitive vs. modern morals—Religion and morals
IV. RELIGION
Primitive atheists
1. THE SOURCES OF RELIGION
Fear—Wonder—Dreams—The soul—Animism
2. THE OBJECTS OF RELIGION
The sun—The stars—The earth—Sex—Animals—Totemism—The transition to human gods—Ghost-worship—Ancestor-worship
3. THE METHODS OF RELIGION
Magic—Vegetation rites—Festivals of license—Myths of the resurrected god—Magic and superstition—Magic and science—Priests
4. THE MORAL FUNCTION OF RELIGION
Religion and government—Tabu—Sexual tabus—The lag of religion—Secularization
Chapter V: THE MENTAL ELEMENTS OF CIVILIZATION
I. LETTERS
Language—Its animal background—Its human origins—Its development—Its results-Education—Initiation—Writing—Poetry
II. SCIENCE
Origins—Mathematics—Astronomy—Medicine—Surgery
III. ART
The meaning of beauty—Of art—The primitive sense of beauty—The painting of the body—Cosmetics—Tattooing—Scarification—Clothing—Ornaments—Pottery—Painting—Sculpture—Architecture—The dance—Music—Summary of the primitive preparation for civilization
Chronological Chart: Types and Cultures of Prehistoric Man
Chapter VI: THE PREHISTORIC BEGINNINGS OF CIVILIZATION
I. PALEOLITHIC CULTURE
The purpose of prehistory—The romances of archeology
1. MEN OF THE OLD STONE AGE
The geological background—Paleolithic types
2. ARTS OF THE OLD STONE AGE
Tools—Fire—Painting—Sculpture
II. NEOLITHIC CULTURE
The Kitchen—Middens—The Lake—Dwellers—The coming of agriculture—The taming of animals—Technology—Neolithic weaving—pottery—building—transport—religion—science—Summary of the prehistoric preparation for civilization
III. THE TRANSITION TO HISTORY
1. THE COMING OF METALS
Copper—Bronze—Iron
2. WRITING
Its possible ceramic origins—The “Mediterranean Signary”—Hieroglyphics—Alphabets
3. LOST CIVILIZATIONS
Polynesia—“Atlantis”
4. CRADLES OF CIVILIZATION
Central Asia—Anau—Lines of Dispersion
BOOK ONE
THE NEAR EAST
Chronological Table of Near Eastern History
Chapter VII: SUMERIA
Orientation—Contributions of the Near East to Western civilization
I. ELAM
The culture of Susa—The potter’s wheel—The wagon-wheel
II. THE SUMERIANS
1. THE HISTORICAL BACKGROUND
The exhuming of Sumeria—Geography—Race—Appearance—The Sumerian Flood—The kings—An ancient reformer—Sargon of Akkad—The Golden Age of Ur
2. ECONOMIC LIFE
The soil—Industry—Trade—Classes—Science
3. GOVERNMENT
The kings—Ways of war—The feudal barons—Law
4. RELIGION AND MORALITY
The Sumerian Pantheon—The food of the gods—Mythology—Education—A Sumerian prayer—Temple prostitutes—The rights of woman—Sumerian cosmetics
5. LETTERS AND ARTS
Writing—Literature—Temples and palaces—Statuary—Ceramics—Jewelry-Summary of Sumerian civilization
III. PASSAGE TO EGYPT
Sumerian influence in Mesopotamia—Ancient Arabia—Mesopotamian influence in Egypt
Chapter VIII: EGYPT
I. THE GIFT OF THE NILE
1. IN THE DELTA
Alexandria—The Nile—The Pyramids—The Sphinx
2. UPSTREAM
Memphis—The masterpiece of Queen Hatshepsut—The “Colossi of Memnon”—Luxor and Karnak—The grandeur of Egyptian civilization
II. THE MASTER BUILDERS
1. THE DISCOVERY OF EGYPT
Champollion and the Rosetta Stone
2. PREHISTORIC EGYPT
Paleolithic—Neolithic—The Badarians—Predynastic—Race
3. THE OLD KINGDOM
The “nomes”—The first historic individual—“Cheops”—“Chephren”—The purpose of the Pyramids—Art of the tombs—Mummification
4. THE MIDDLE KINGDOM
The Feudal Age—The Twelfth Dynasty—The Hyksos Domination
5. THE EMPIRE
The great queen—Thutmose III—The zenith of Egypt
III. THE CIVILIZATION OF EGYPT
1. AGRICULTURE
2. INDUSTRY
Miners—Manufactures—Workers—Engineers—Transport—Postal service—Commerce and finance—Scribes
3. GOVERNMENT
The bureaucrats—Law—The vizier—The pharaoh
4. MORALS
Royal incest—The harem—Marriage—The position of woman—The matriarchate in Egypt—Sexual morality
5. MANNERS
Character—Games—Appearance—Cosmetics—Costume—Jewelry
6. LETTERS
Education—Schools of government—Paper and ink—Stages in the development of writing—Forms of Egyptian writing
7. LITERATURE
Texts and libraries—The Egyptian Sinbad—The Story of Sinuhe—Fiction—An amorous fragment—Love poems—History—A literary revolution
8. SCIENCE
Origins of Egyptian science—Mathematics—Astronomy and the calendar—Anatomy and physiology—Medicine, surgery and hygiene
9. ART
Architecture—Old Kingdom, Middle Kingdom, Empire and Saïte sculpture—Bas-relief—Painting—Minor arts—Music—The artists
10. PHILOSOPHY
The Instructions of Ptah-hotep—The Admonitions of lpuwer—The Dialogue of a Misanthrope—The Egyptian Ecclesiastes
11. RELIGION
Sky gods—The sun god—Plant gods—Animal gods—Sex gods—Human gods—Osiris—Isis and Horus—Minor deities—The priests—Immortality—The Book of the Dead—The “Negative Confession”—Magic—Corruption
IV. THE HERETIC KING
The character of Ikhnaton—The new religion—A hymn to the sun—Monotheism—The new dogma—The new art—Reaction—Nofretete—Break-up of the Empire—Death of Ikhnaton
V. DECLINE AND FALL
Tutenkhamon—The labors of Rameses II—The wealth of the clergy—The poverty of the people—The conquest of Egypt—Summary of Egyptian contributions to civilization
Chapter IX: BABYLONIA
I. FROM HAMMURABI TO NEBUCHADREZZAR
Babylonian contributions to modern civilization—The Land between the Rivers-Hammurabi—His capital—The Kassite Domination—The Amarna letters—The Assyrian Conquest—Nebuchadrezzar—Babylon in the days of its glory
II. THE TOILERS
Hunting—Tillage—Food—Industry—Transport—The perils of commerce—Money-lenders—Slaves
III. THE LAW
The Code of Hammurabi—The powers of the king—Trial by ordeal—Lex Talionis—Forms of punishment—Codes of wages and prices—State restoration of stolen goods
IV. THE GODS OF BABYLON
Religion and the state—The functions and powers of the clergy—The lesser gods—Marduk—Ishtar—The Babylonian stories of the Creation and the Flood—The love of Ishtar and Tammuz—The descent of Ishtar into Hell—The death and resurrection of Tammuz—Ritual and prayer—Penitential psalms—Sin—Magic—Superstition
V. THE MORALS OF BABYLON
Religion divorced from morals—Sacred prostitution—Free love—Marriage—Adultery—Divorce—The position of woman—The relaxation of morals
VI. LETTERS AND LITERATURE
Cuneiform—Its decipherment—Language—Literature—The epic of Gilgamesh
VII. ARTISTS
The lesser arts—Music—Painting—Sculpture—Bas-relief—Architecture
VIII. BABYLONIAN SCIENCE
Mathematics—Astronomy—The calendar—Geography—Medicine
IX. PHILOSOPHERS
Religion and Philosophy—The Babylonian Job—The Babylonian Koheleth—An anticlerical
X. EPITAPH
Chapter X: ASSYRIA
I. CHRONICLES
Beginnings—Cities—Race—The conquerors—Sennacherib and Esarhaddon—“Sardanapalus”
II. ASSYRIAN GOVERNMENT
Imperialism—Assyrian war—The conscript gods—Law—Delicacies of penology—Administration—The violence of Oriental monarchies
III. ASSYRIAN LIFE
Industry and trade—Marriage and morals—Religion and science—Letters and libraries—The Assyrian ideal of a gentleman
IV. ASSYRIAN ART
Minor arts—Bas-relief—Statuary—Building—A page from “Sardanapalus”
V. ASSYRIA PASSES
The last days of a king—Sources of Assyrian decay—The fall of Nineveh
Chapter XI: A MOTLEY OF NATIONS
I. THE INDO-EUROPEAN PEOPLES
The ethnic scene—Mitannians—Hittites—Armenians—Scythians—Phrygians—The Divine Mother—Lydians—Croesus—Coinage—Croesus, Solon and Cyrus
II. THE SEMITIC PEOPLES
The antiquity of the Arabs—Phoenicians—Their world trade—Their circumnavigation of Africa—Colonies—Tyre and Sidon—Deities—The dissemination of the alphabet-Syria—Astarte—The death and resurrection of Adoni—The sacrifice of children
Chapter XII: JUDEA
I. THE PROMISED LAND
Palestine—Climate—Prehistory—Abraham’s people—The Jews in Egypt—The Exodus—The conquest of Canaan
II. SOLOMON IN ALL HIS GLORY
Race—Appearance—Language—Organization—Judges and kings—Saul—David—Solomon—His wealth—The Temple—Rise of the social problem in Israel
III. THE GOD OF HOSTS
Polytheism—Yahveh—Henotheism—Character of the Hebrew religion—The idea of sin—Sacrifice—Circumcision--The priesthood—Strange gods
IV. THE FIRST RADICALS
The class war—Origin of the Prophets—Amos at Jerusalem—Isaiah—His attacks upon the rich—His doctrine of a Messiah—The influence of the Prophets
V. THE DEATH AND RESURRECTION OF JERUSALEM
The birth of the Bible—The destruction of Jerusalem—The Babylonian Captivity-Jeremiah—Ezekiel—The Second Isaiah—The liberation of the Jews—The Second Temple
VI. THE PEOPLE OF THE BOOK
The “Book of the Law”—The composition of the Pentateuch—The myths of Genesis—The Mosaic Code—The Ten Commandments—The idea of God—The sabbath—The Jewish family—Estimate of the Mosaic legislation
VII. THE LITERATURE AND PHILOSOPHY OF THE BIBLE
History—Fiction—Poetry—The Psalms—The Song of Songs—Proverbs—Job—The idea of immortality—The pessimism of Ecclesiastes—The advent of Alexander
Chapter XIII: PERSIA
I. THE RISE AND FALL OF THE MEDES
Their origins—Rulers—The blood treaty of Sardis—Degeneration
II. THE GREAT KINGS
The romantic Cyrus—His enlightened policies—Cambyses—Darius the Great—The invasion of Greece
III. PERSIAN LIFE AND INDUSTRY
The empire—The people—The language—The peasants—The imperial highways-Trade and finance
IV. AN EXPERIMENT IN GOVERNMENT
The king—The nobles—The army—Law—A savage punishment—The capitals—The satrapies—An achievement in administration
V. ZARATHUSTRA
The coming of the Prophet—Persian religion before Zarathustra—The Bible of Persia—Ahura-Mazda—The good and the evil spirits—Their struggle for the possession of the world
VI. ZOROASTRIAN ETHICS
Man as a battlefield—The Undying Fire—Hell, Purgatory and Paradise—The cult of Mithra—The Magi—The Parsees
VII. PERSIAN MANNERS AND MORALS
Violence and honor—The code of cleanliness—Sins of the flesh—Virgins and bachelors—Marriage—Women—Children—Persian ideas of education
VIII. SCIENCE AND ART
Medicine—Minor arts—The tombs of Cyrus and Darius—The palaces of Persepolis-The Frieze of the Archers—Estimate of Persian art
IX. DECADENCE
How a nation may die—Xerxes—A paragraph of murders—Artaxerxes II—Cyrus the Younger—Darius the Little—Causes of decay: political, military, moral—Alexander conquers Persia, and advances upon India
BOOK TWO
INDIA AND HER NEIGHBORS
Chronological Table of Indian History
Chapter XIV: THE FOUNDATIONS OF INDIA
I. SCENE OF THE DRAMA
The rediscovery of India—A glance at the map—Climatic influences
II. THE OLDEST CIVILIZATION?
Prehistoric India—Mohenjo-daro—Its antiquity
III. THE INDO-ARYANS
The natives—The invaders—The village community—Caste—Warriors—Priests—Merchants—Workers—Outcastes
IV. INDO-ARYAN SOCIETY
Herders—Tillers of the soil—Craftsmen—Traders—Coinage and credit—Morals—Marriage—Woman
V. THE RELIGION OF THE VEDAS
Pre-Vedic religion—Vedic gods—Moral gods—The Vedic story of Creation—Immortality—The horse sacrifice
VI. THE VEDAS AS LITERATURE
Sanskrit and English—Writing—The four Vedas—The Rig-veda—A Hymn of Creation
VII. THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE UPANISHADS
The authors—Their theme—Intellect vs. intuition—Atman—Brahman—Their identity—A description of God—Salvation—Influence of the Upanishads—Emerson on Brahma
Chapter XV: BUDDHA
I. THE HERETICS
Sceptics—Nihilists—Sophists—Atheists—Materialists—Religions without a god
II. MAHAVIRA AND THE JAINS
The Great Hero—The Jain creed—Atheistic polytheism—Asceticism—Salvation by suicide—Later history of the Jains
III. THE LEGEND OF BUDDHA
The background of Buddhism—The miraculous birth—Youth—The sorrows of life-Flight—Ascetic years—Enlightenment—A vision of Nirvana
IV. THE TEACHING OF BUDDHA
Portrait of the Master—His methods—The Four Noble Truths—The Eightfold Way—The Five Moral Rules—Buddha and Christ—Buddha’s agnosticism and anti-clericalism—His Atheism—His soul-less psychology—The meaning of Nirvana
V. THE LAST DAYS OF BUDDHA
His miracles—He visits his father’s house—The Buddhist monks—Death
Chapter XVI: FROM ALEXANDER TO AURANGZEB
I. CHANDRAGUPTA
Alexander in India—Chandragupta the liberator—The people—The university of Taxila—The royal palace—A day in the life of a king—An older Machiavelli—Administration—Law—Public health—Transport and roads—Municipal government
II. THE PHILOSOPHER-KING
Ashoka—The Edict of Tolerance—Ashoka’s missionaries—His failure—His success
III. THE GOLDEN AGE OF INDIA
An epoch of invasions—The Kushan kings—The Gupta Empire—The travels of Fa-Hien—The revival of letters—The Huns in India—Harsha the generous—The travels of Yuan Chwang
IV. ANNALS OF RAJPUTANA
The Samurai of India—The age of chivalry—The fall of Chitor
V. THE ZENITH OF THE SOUTH
The kingdoms of the Deccan—Vijayanagar—Krishna Raya—A medieval metropolis-Laws—Arts—Religion—Tragedy
VI. THE MOSLEM CONQUEST
The weakening of India—Mahmud of Ghazni—The Sultanate of Delhi—Its cultural asides—Its brutal policy—The lesson of Indian history
VII. AKBAR THE GREAT
Tamerlane—Babur—Humayun—Akbar—His government—His character—His patronage of the arts—His passion for philosophy—His friendship for Hinduism and Christianity—His new religion—The last days of Akbar
VIII. THE DECLINE OF THE MOGULS
The children of great men—Jehangir—Shah Jehan—His magnificence—His fall—Aurangzeb—His fanaticism—His death—The coming of the British
Chapter XVII: THE LIFE OF THE PEOPLE
I. THE MAKERS OF WEALTH
The jungle background—Agriculture—Mining—Handicrafts—Commerce—Money—Taxes—Famines—Poverty and wealth
II. THE ORGANIZATION OF SOCIETY
The monarchy—Law—The Code of “Manu”—Development of the caste system—Rise of the Brahmans—Their privileges and powers—Their obligations—In defense of caste
III. MORALS AND MARRIAGE
Dharma—Children—Child marriage—The art of love—Prostitution—Romantic love—Marriage—The family—Woman—Her intellectual life—Her rights—Purdah—Suttee-The Widow
IV. MANNERS, CUSTOMS AND CHARACTER
Sexual modesty—Hygiene—Dress—Appearance—The gentle art among the Hindus-Faults and virtues—Games—Festivals—Death
Chapter XVIII: THE PARADISE OF THE GODS
I. THE LATER HISTORY OF BUDDHISM
The Zenith of Buddhism—The Two Vehicles—Mahayana—Buddhism, Stoicism and Christianity—The decay of Buddhism—Its migrations: Ceylon, Burma, Turkestan, Tibet, Cambodia, China, Japan
II. THE NEW DIVINITIES
Hinduism—Brahma, Vishnu, Shiva—Krishna—Kali—Animal gods—The sacred cow-Polytheism and monotheism
III. BELIEFS
The Puranas—The reincarnations of the universe—The migrations of the soul—Karma—Its philosophical aspects—Life as evil—Release
IV. CURIOSITIES OF RELIGION
Superstitions—Astrology—Phallic worship—Ritual—Sacrifice—Purification—The sacred waters
V. SAINTS AND SCEPTICS
Methods of sanctity—Heretics—Toleration—General view of Hindu religion
Chapter XIX: THE LIFE OF THE MIND
I. HINDU SCIENCE
Its religious origins—Astronomers—Mathematicians—The “Arabic” numerals—The decimal system—Algebra—Geometry—Physics—Chemistry—Physiology—Vedic medicine—Physicians—Surgeons—Anesthetics—Vaccination—Hypnotism
II. THE SIX SYSTEMS OF BRAHMANICAL PHILOSOPHY
The antiquity of Indian philosophy—Its prominent rôle—Its scholars—Forms—Conception of orthodoxy—The assumptions of Hindu philosophy
1. THE Nyaya SYSTEM
2. THE Vaisheshika SYSTEM
3. THE Sankhya SYSTEM
Its high repute—Metaphysics—Evolution—Atheism—Idealism—Spirit—Body, mind and soul—The goal of philosophy—Influence of the Sankhya
4. THE Yoga SYSTEM
The Holy Men—The antiquity of Yoga—Its meaning—The eight stages of discipline—The aim of Yoga—The miracles of the Yogi—The sincerity of Yoga
5. THE Purva Mimansa
6. THE Vedanta SYSTEM
Origin—Shankara—Logic—Epistemology—Maya—Psychology—Theology—God—Ethics—Difficulties of the system—Death of Shankara
III. THE CONCLUSIONS OF HINDU PHILOSOPHY
Decadence—Summary—Criticism—Influence
Chapter XX: THE LITERATURE OF INDIA
I. THE LANGUAGES OF INDIA
Sanskrit—The vernaculars—Grammar
II. EDUCATION
Schools—Methods—Universities—Moslem education—An emperor on education
III. THE EPICS
The Mahabharata—Its story—Its form—The Bhagavad-Gita—The metaphysics of war—The price of freedom—The Ramayana—A forest idyl—The rape of Sita—The Hindu epics and the Greek
IV. DRAMA
Origins—The Clay Cart—Characteristics of Hindu drama—Kalidasa—The story of Shakuntala—Estimate of Indian drama
V. PROSE AND POETRY
Their unity in India—Fables—History—Tales—Minor poets—Rise of the vernacular literature—Chandi Das—Tulsi Das—Poets of the south—Kabir
Chapter XXI INDIAN ART
I. THE MINOR ARTS
The great age of Indian art—Its uniqueness—Its association with industry—Pottery-Metal—Wood—Ivory—Jewelry—Textiles
II. MUSIC
A concert in India—Music and the dance—Musicians—Scale and forms—Themes-Music and philosophy
III. PAINTING
Prehistoric—The frescoes of Ajanta—Rajput miniatures—The Mogul school—The painters—The theorists
IV. SCULPTURE
Primitive—Buddhist—Gandhara—Gupta—“Colonial”—Estimate
V. ARCHITECTURE
1. HINDU ARCHITECTURE
Before Ashoka—Ashokan—Buddhist—Jain—The masterpieces of the north—Their destruction—The southern style—Monolithic temples—Structural temples
2. “COLONIAL” ARCHITECTURE
Ceylon—Java—Cambodia—The Khmers—Their religion—Angkor—Fall of the Khmers—Siam—Burma
3. MOSLEM ARCHITECTURE IN INDIA
The Afghan style—The Mogul style—Delhi—Agra—The Taj Mahal
4. INDIAN ARCHITECTURE AND CIVILIZATION
Decay of Indian art—Hindu and Moslem architecture compared—General view of Indian civilization
Chapter XXII: A CHRISTIAN EPILOGUE
I. THE JOLLY BUCCANEERS
The arrival of the Europeans—The British Conquest—The Sepoy Mutiny—Advantages and disadvantages of British rule
II. LATTER-DAY SAINTS
Christianity in India—The Brahma-Somaj—Mohammedanism—Ramakrishna—Vivekananda
III. TAGORE
Science and art—A family of geniuses—Youth of Rabindranath—His poetry—His politics—His school
IV. EAST IS WEST
Changing India—Economic changes—Social—The decaying caste system—Castes and guilds—Untouchables—The emergence of woman
V. THE NATIONALIST MOVEMENT
The westernized students—The secularization of heaven—The Indian National Congress
VI. MAHATMA GANDHI
Portrait of a saint—The ascetic—The Christian—The education of Gandhi—In Africa—The Revolt of 1921—“I am the man”—Prison years—Young India—The revolution of the spinning-wheel—The achievements of Gandhi
VII. FAREWELL TO INDIA
The revivification of India—The gifts of India
BOOK THREE
THE FAR EAST
A. CHINA
Chronology of Chinese Civilization
Chapter XXIII: THE AGE OF THE PHILOSOPHERS
I. THE BEGINNINGS
1. ESTIMATES OF THE CHINESE
2. THE MIDDLE FLOWERY KINGDOM
Geography—Race—Prehistory
3. THE UNKNOWN CENTURIES
The Creation according to China—The coming of culture—Wine and chopsticks—The virtuous emperors—A royal atheist
4. THE FIRST CHINESE CIVILIZATION
The Feudal Age in China—An able minister—The struggle between custom and law—Culture and anarchy—Love lyrics from the Book of Odes
5. THE PRE-CONFUCIAN PHILOSOPHERS
The Book of Changes—The yang and the yin—The Chinese Enlightenment—Teng Shih, the Socrates of China
6. THE OLD MASTER
Lao-tze—The Tao—On intellectuals in government—The foolishness of laws—A Rousseauian Utopia and a Christian ethic—Portrait of a wise man—The meeting of Lao-tze and Confucius
II. CONFUCIUS
1. THE SAGE IN SEARCH OF A STATE
Birth and youth—Marriage and divorce—Pupils and methods—Appearance and character—The lady and the tiger—A definition of good government—Confucius in office—Wander-years—The consolations of old age
2. THE NINE CLASSICS
3. THE AGNOSTICISM OF CONFUCIUS
A fragment of logic—The philosopher and the urchins—A formula of wisdom
4. THE WAY OF THE HIGHER MAN
Another portrait of the sage—Elements of character—The Golden Rule
5. CONFUCIAN POLITICS
Popular sovereignty—Government by example—The decentralization of wealth-Music and manners—Socialism and revolution
6. THE INFLUENCE OF CONFUCIUS
The Confucian scholars—Their victory over the Legalists—Defects of Confucianism—The contemporaneity of Confucius
III. SOCIALISTS AND ANARCHISTS
1. MO TI, ALTRUIST
2. YANG CHU, EGOIST
3. MENCIUS, MENTOR OF PRINCES
A model mother—A philosopher among kings—Are men by nature good?—Single tax—Mencius and the communists—The profit-motive—The right of revolution
4. HSUN-TZE, REALIST
The evil nature of man—The necessity of law
5. CHUANG-TZE, IDEALIST
The Return to Nature—Governmentless society—The Way of Nature—The limits of the intellect—The evolution of man—The Button-Moulder—The influence of Chinese philosophy in Europe
Chapter XXIV: THE AGE OF THE POETS
I. CHINA’S BISMARCK
The Period of Contending States—The suicide of Ch’u P’ing—Shih Huang-ti unifies China—The Great Wall—The “Burning of the Books”—The failure of Shih Huang-ti
II. EXPERIMENTS IN SOCIALISM
Chaos and poverty—The Han Dynasty—The reforms of Wu Ti—The income tax—The planned economy of Wang Mang—Its overthrow—The Tatar invasion
III. THE GLORY OF T’ANG
The new dynasty—T’ai Tsung’s method of reducing crime—An age of prosperity—The “Brilliant Emperor”—The romance of Yang Kwei-fei—The rebellion of An Lu-shan
IV. THE BANISHED ANGEL
An anecdote of Li Po—His youth, prowess and loves—On the imperial barge—The gospel of the grape—War—The wanderings of Li Po—In prison—“Deathless Poetry”
V. SOME QUALITIES OF CHINESE POETRY
“Free verse”—“Imagism”—“Every poem a picture and every picture a poem”—Sentimentality—Perfection of form
VI. TU FU
T’ao Ch’ien—Po Chü-i—Poems for malaria—Tu Fu and Li Po—A vision of war—Prosperous days—Destitution—Death
VII. PROSE
The abundance of Chinese literature—Romances—History—Szuma Ch’ien—Essays-Han Yü on the bone of Buddha
VIII. THE STAGE
Its low repute in China—Origins—The play—The audience—The actors—Music
Chapter XXV: THE AGE OF THE ARTISTS
I. THE SUNG RENAISSANCE
1. THE SOCIALISM OF WANG AN-SHIH
The Sung Dynasty—A radical premier—His cure for unemployment—The regulation of industry—Codes of wages and prices—The nationalization of commerce-State insurance against unemployment, poverty and old age—Examinations for public office—The defeat of Wang An-shih
2. THE REVIVAL OF LEARNING
The growth of scholarship—Paper and ink in China—Steps in the invention of printing—The oldest book—Paper money—Movable type—Anthologies, dictionaries, encyclopedias
3. THE REBIRTH OF PHILOSOPHY
Chu Hsi—Wang Yang-ming—Beyond good and evil
II. BRONZES, LACQUER AND JADE
The rôle of art in China—Textiles—Furniture—Jewelry—Fans—The making of lacquer—The cutting of jade—Some masterpieces in bronze—Chinese sculpture
III. PAGODAS AND PALACES
Chinese architecture—The Porcelain Tower of Nanking—The Jade Pagoda of Peking—The Temple of Confucius—The Temple and Altar of Heaven—The palaces of Kublai Khan—A Chinese home—The interior—Color and form
IV. PAINTING
1. MASTERS OF CHINESE PAINTING
Ku K’ai-chhi, the “greatest painter, wit and fool”—Han Yü’s miniature—The classic and the romantic schools—Wang Wei—Wu Tao-tze—Hui Tsung, the artist-emperor—Masters of the Sung age
2. QUALITIES OF CHINESE PAINTING
The rejection of perspective—Of realism—Line as nobler than color—Form as rhythm—Representation by suggestion—Conventions and restrictions Sincerity of Chinese art
V. PORCELAIN
The ceramic art—The making of porcelain—Its early history—Céladon—Enamels—The skill of Hao Shih-chiu—Cloisonné—The age of K’ang-hsi—Of Ch’ien Lung
Chapter XXVI: THE PEOPLE AND THE STATE
I. HISTORICAL INTERLUDE
1. MARCO POLO VISITS KUBLAI KHAN
The incredible travelers—Adventures of a Venetian in China—The elegance and prosperity of Hangchow—The palaces of Peking—The Mongol Conquest—Jenghiz Khan—Kublai Khan—His character and policy—His harem—“Marco Millions”
2. THE MING AND THE CH’ING
Fall of the Mongols—The Ming Dynasty—The Manchu invasion—The Ch’ing Dynasty—An enlightened monarch—Ch’ien Lung rejects the Occident
II. THE PEOPLE AND THEIR LANGUAGE
Population—Appearance—Dress—Peculiarities of Chinese speech—Of Chinese writing
III. THE PRACTICAL LIFE
1. IN THE FIELDS
The poverty of the peasant—Methods of husbandry—Crops—Tea—Food—The stoicism of the village
2. IN THE SHOPS
Handicrafts—Silk—Factories—Guilds—Men of burden—Roads and canals-Merchants—Credit and coinage—Currency experiments—Printing-press inflation
3. INVENTION AND SCIENCE
Gunpowder, fireworks and war—The compass—Poverty of industrial invention-Geography—Mathematics—Physics—Feng shut—Astronomy—Medicine—Hygiene
IV. RELIGION WITHOUT A CHURCH
Superstition and scepticism—Animism—The worship of Heaven—Ancestor—worship—Confucianism—Taoism—The elixir of immortality—Buddhism—Religious toleration and eclecticism—Mohammedanism—Christianity—Causes of its failure in China
V. THE RULE OF MORALS
The high place of morals in Chinese society—The family—Children—Chastity—Prostitution—Premarital relations—Marriage and love—Monogamy and polygamy—Concubinage—Divorce—A Chinese empress—The patriarchal male—The subjection of woman—The Chinese character
VI. A GOVERNMENT PRAISED BY VOLTAIRE
The submergence of the individual—Self-government—The village and the province—The laxity of the law—The severity of punishment—The Emperor—The Censor—Administrative boards—Education for public office—Nomination by education—The examination system—Its defects—Its virtues
Chapter XXVII: REVOLUTION AND RENEWAL
I. THE WHITE PERIL
The conflict of Asia and Europe—The Portuguese—The Spanish—The Dutch—The English—The opium trade—The Opium Wars—The T’ai-p’ing Rebellion—The War with Japan—The attempt to dismember China—The “Open Door”—The Empress Dowager—The reforms of Kuang Hsu—His removal from power—The “Boxers”—The Indemnity
II. THE DEATH OF A CIVILIZATION
The Indemnity students—Their Westernization—Their disintegrative effect in China—The rôle of the missionary—Sun Yat-sen, the Christian—His youthful adventures—His meeting with Li Hung-chang—His plans for a revolution—Their success—Yuan Shi-k’ai—The death of Sun Yat-sen—Chaos and pillage—Communism—“The north pacified”—Chiang Kai-shek—Japan in Manchuria—At Shanghai
III. BEGINNINGS OF A NEW ORDER
Change in the village—In the town—The factories—Commerce—Labor unions—Wages—The new government—Nationalism vs. Westernization—The dethronement of Confucius—The reaction against religion—The new morality—Marriage in transition-Birth control—Co-education—The “New Tide” in literature and philosophy—The new language of literature—Hu Shih—Elements of destruction—Elements of renewal
B. JAPAN
Chronology of Japanese Civilization
Chapter XXVIII: THE MAKERS OF JAPAN
I. THE CHILDREN OF THE GODS
How Japan was created—The rôle of earthquakes
II. PRIMITIVE JAPAN
Racial components—Early civilization—Religion—Shinto—Buddhism—The beginnings of art—The “Great Reform”
III. THE IMPERIAL AGE
The emperors—The aristocracy—The influence of China—The Golden Age of Kyoto—Decadence
IV. THE DICTATORS
The shoguns—The Kamakura Bakufu—Tie Hojo Regency—Kublai Khan’s invasion—The Ashikaga Shogunate—The three buccaneers
V. GREAT MONKEY-FACE
The rise of Hideyoshi—The attack upon Korea—The conflict with Christianity
VI. THE GREAT SHOGUN
The accession of Iyeyasu—His philosophy—Iyeyasu and Christianity—Death of Iyeyasu—The Tokugawa Shogunate
Chapter XXIX: THE POLITICAL AND MORAL FOUNDATIONS
I. THE SAMURAI
The powerless emperor—The powers of the shogun—The sword of the Samurai—The code of the Samurai—Hara-kiri—The Forty-seven Ronin—A commuted sentence
II. THE LAW
The first code—Group responsibility—Punishments
III. THE TOILERS
Castes—An experiment in the nationalization of land—State fixing of Wages—A famine—Handicrafts—Artisans and guilds
IV. THE PEOPLE
Stature—Cosmetics—Costume—Diet—Etiquette—Saki—The tea ceremony—The flower ceremony—Love of nature—Gardens—Homes
V. THE FAMILY
The paternal autocrat—The status of woman—Children—Sexual morality—The Geisha—Love
VI. THE SAINTS
Religion in Japan—The transformation of Buddhism—The priests—Sceptics
VII. THE THINKERS
Confucius reaches Japan—A critic of religion—The religion of scholarship—Kaibara Ekken—On education—On pleasure—The rival schools—A Japanese Spinoza—Ito Jinsai—Ito Togai—Ogyu Sorai—The war of the scholars—Mabuchi—Moto-ori
Chapter XXX: THE MIND AND ART OF OLD JAPAN
I. LANGUAGE AND EDUCATION
The language—Writing—Education
II. POETRY
The Manyoshu—The Kokinshu—Characteristics of Japanese poetry—Examples—The game of poetry—The hokka-gamblers
III. PROSE
1. FICTION
Lady Muraski—The Tale of Genji—Its excellence—Later Japanese fiction—A humorist
2. HISTORY
The historians—Arai Hakuseki
3. THE ESSAY
The Lady Sei Shonagon—Kamo no-Chomei
IV. THE DRAMA
The No plays—Their character—The popular stage—The Japanese Shakespeare-Summary judgment
V. THE ART OF LITTLE THINGS
Creative imitation—Music and the dance—Inro and netsuke—Hidari Jingaro—Lacquer
VI. ARCHITECTURE
Temples—Palaces—The shrine of Iyeyasu—Homes
VII. METALS AND STATUES
Swords—Mirrors—The Trinity of Horiuji—Colossi—Religion and sculpture
VIII. POTTERY
The Chinese stimulus—The potters of Hizen-Pottery and tea—How Goto Saijiro brought the art of porcelain from Hizen to Kaga—The nineteenth century
IX. PAINTING
Difficulties of the subject—Methods and materials—Forms and ideals—Korean origins and Buddhist inspiration—The Tosa School—The return to China—Sesshiu—The Kano School—Koyetsu and Korin—The Realistic School
X. PRINTS
The Ukiyoye School—Its founders—Its masters—Hokusai—Hiroshige
XI. JAPANESE ART AND CIVILIZATION
A retrospect—Contrasts—An estimate—The doom of the old Japan
Chapter XXXI THE NEW JAPAN
I. THE POLITICAL REVOLUTION
The decay of the Shogunate—America knocks at the door—The Restoration—The Westernization of Japan—Political reconstruction—The new constitution—Law—The army—The war with Russia—Its political results
II. THE INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION
Industrialization—Factories—Wages—Strikes—Poverty—The Japanese point of view
III. THE CULTURAL REVOLUTION
Changes in dress—In manners—The Japanese character—Morals and marriage in transition—Religion—Science—Japanese medicine—Art and taste—Language and education—Naturalistic fiction—New forms of poetry
IV. THE NEW EMPIRE
The precarious bases of the new civilization—Causes of Japanese imperialism—The Twenty-one Demands—The Washington Conference—The Immigration Act of 1924—The invasion of Manchuria—The new kingdom—Japan and Russia—Japan and Europe—Must America fight Japan?
Envoi: Our Oriental Heritage
Glossary of Foreign Terms
Bibliography of Books Referred to in the Text
Notes
Pronouncing and Biographical Index
List of Illustrations
(Illustration Section follows page xxxii)
FIG. 1. Granite statue of Rameses II
Turin Museum, Italy
FIG. 2. Bison painted in paleolithic cave at Altamira, Spain
Photo by American Museum of Natural History
FIG. 3. Hypothetical reconstruction of a neolithic lake dwelling
American Museum of Natural History
FIG. 4. Development of the alphabet
FIG. 5. Stele of Naram-sin
Louvre; photo by Archives Photographiques d’Art et d’Histoire
FIG. 6. The “little” Gudea
Louvre; photo by Metropolitan Museum of Art
FIG. 7. Temple of Der-el-Bahri
Photo by Lindsley F. Hall
FIG. 8. Colonnade and court of the temple at Luxor
Photo by Metropolitan Museum of Art
FIG. 9. Hypothetical reconstruction of the Hypostyle Hall at Karnak
From a model in the Metropolitan Museum of Art
FIG. 10. Colonnade of the Hypostyle Hall at Karnak
Underwood & Underwood
FIG. 11. The Rosetta Stone
British Museum
FIG. 12. Diorite head of the Pharaoh Khafre
Cairo Museum; photo by Metropolitan Museum of Art
FIG. 13. The seated Scribe
Louvre; photo by Metropolitan Museum of Art
FIG. 14. Wooden figure of the “Sheik-el-Beled”
Cairo Museum; photo by Metropolitan Museum of Art
FIG. 15. Sandstone head from the workshop of the sculptor Thutmose a Amarna
State Museum, Berlin; photo by Metropolitan Museum of Art
FIG. 16. Head of a king, probably Senusret III.
Metropolitan Museum of Art
FIG. 17. The royal falcon and serpent. Limestone relief from First Dynasty
Louvre; photo by Metropolitan Museum of Art
FIG. 18. Head of Thutmose III
Cairo Museum; photo by Metropolitan Museum of Art
FIG. 19. Rameses II presenting an offering
Cairo Museum; photo by Metropolitan Museum of Art
FIG. 20. Bronze figure of the Lady Tekoschet
Athens Museum; photo by Metropolitan Museum of Art
FIG. 21. Seated figure of Montumihait
State Museum, Berlin
FIG. 22. Colossi of Rameses II, with life-size figures of Queen Nofretete at his feet, at the cave temple of Abu Simbel
Ewing Galloway, N. Y.
FIG. 23. The dancing girl. Design on an ostracon
Turin Museum, Italy
FIG. 24. Cat watching his prey. A wall-painting in the grave of Khnumhotep at Beni-Hasan
Copy by Howard Carter; courtesy of Egypt Exploration Society
FIG. 25. Chair of Tutenkhamon
Cairo Museum; photo by Metropolitan Museum of Art
FIG. 26. Painted limestone head of Ikhnaton’s Queen Nofretete
Metropolitan Museum of Art facsimile of original in State Museum, Berlin
FIG. 27. The god Shamash transmits a code of laws to Hammurabi
Louvre; photo copyright by W. A. Mansell & Co., London
FIG. 28. The “Lion of Babylon.” Painted tile-relief
State Museum, Berlin; Courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum of Art
FIG. 29. Head of Esarhaddon
State Museum, Berlin
FIG. 30. The Prism of Sennacherib
Iraq Museum; courtesy of the Oriental Institute, University of Chicago
FIG. 31. The Dying Lioness of Nineveh
British Museum; photo by Metropolitan Museum of Art
FIG. 32. The Lion Hunt; relief on alabaster, from Nineveh
British Museum; photo by Metropolitan Museum of Art
FIG. 33. Assyrian relief of Marduk fighting Tiamat, from Kalakh
British Museum; photo copyright by W. A. Mansell, London
FIG. 34. Winged Bull from the palace of Ashurnasirpal II at Kalakh
Metropolitan Museum of Art
FIG. 35. A street in Jerusalem
FIG. 36. Hypothetical restoration of Solomon’s Temple
Underwood & Underwood
FIG. 37. The ruins of Persepolis
Courtesy of the Oriental Institute, University of Chicago
FIG. 38. “Frieze of the Archers.” Painted tile-relief from Susa
Louvre; photo by Archives Photographiques d’Art et d’Histoire
FIG. 39. Burning Ghat at Calcutta
Bronson de Cou, from Ewing Galloway, N. Y.
FIG. 40. “Holy Men” at Benares
FIG. 41. A fresco at Ajanta
FIG. 42. Mogul painting of Durbar of Akbar at Akbarabad. Ca. 1620
Boston Museum of Fine Arts
FIG. 43. Torso of a youth, from Sanchi
Victoria and Albert Museum, London
FIG. 44. Seated statue of Brahma, 10th century
Metropolitan Museum of Art
FIG. 45. The Buddha of Sarnath, 5th century
Photo by A. K. Coomaraswamy
FIG. 46. The Naga-King. Façade relief on Ajanta Cave-temple XIX
Courtesy of A. K. Coomaraswamy
FIG. 47. The Dancing Shiva. South India, 17th century
Minneapolis Institute of Arts
FIG. 48. The Three-faced Shiva, or Trimurti, Elephanta
Underwood & Underwood
FIG. 49. The Buddha of Anuradhapura, Ceylon
Ewing Galloway, N. Y.
FIG. 50. Lion capital of Ashoka column
Sarnath Museum, Benares; copyright Archaeological Survey of India
FIG. 51. Sanchi Tope, north gate
Underwood & Underwood
FIG. 52. Façade of the Gautami-Putra Monastery at Nasik
India Office, London
FIG. 53. Chaitya hall interior, Cave XXVI, Ajanta.
FIG. 54. Interior of dome of the Tejahpala Temple at Mt. Abu
Johnston & Hoffman, Calcutta
FIG. 55. Temple of Vimala Sah at Mt. Abu
Underwood & Underwood
FIG. 56. Cave XIX, Ajanta
Indian State Railways
FIG. 57. Elephanta Caves, near Bombay
By Cowling, from Ewing Galloway, N. Y.
FIG. 58. The rock-cut Temple of Kailasha
Indian State Railways
FIG. 59. Guardian deities, Temple of Elura
Indian State Railways
FIG. 60. Façade, Angkor Wat, Indo-China
Publishers’ Photo Service
FIG. 61. Northeast end of Angkor Wat, Indo-China
Publishers’ Photo Service
FIG. 62. Rabindranath Tagore
Underwood & Underwood
FIG. 63. Ananda Palace at Pagan, Burma
Underwood & Underwood
FIG. 64. The .Taj Mahal, Agra
Ewing Galloway, N. Y.
FIG. 65. Imperial jewel casket of blue lacquer
Underwood & Underwood
FIG. 66. The lacquered screen of K’ang-hsi
Victoria and Albert Museum, London
FIG. 67. A bronze Kuan-yin of the Sui period
Metropolitan Museum of Art
FIG. 68. Summer Palace, Peiping
FIG. 69. Temple of Heaven, Peiping
Publishers’ Photo Service
FIG. 70. Portraits of Thirteen Emperors. Attributed to Yen Li-pen, 7th century.
Boston Museum of Fine Arts
FIG. 71. The Silk-beaters. By the Emperor Hui Tsung (1101-26)
Boston Museum of Fine Arts
FIG. 72. Landscape with Bridge and Willows. Ma Yuan, 12th century
Boston Museum of Fine Arts
FIG. 73. A hawthorn vase from the K’ang-hsi period
Metropolitan Museum of Art
FIG. 74. Geisha girls
Ewing Galloway, N. Y.
FIG. 75. Kiyomizu Temple, Kyoto, once a favorite resort of Japanese suicides
Underwood & Underwood
FIG. 76. Yo-mei-mon Gate, Nikko
FIG. 77. The Monkeys of Nikko. “Hear no evil, speak no evil, see no evil”
Ewing Galloway, N. Y.
FIG. 78. Image of Amida-Buddha at Horiuji
Photo by Metropolitan Museum of Art
FIG. 79. The bronze halo and background of the Amida at Horiuji.
Photo by Metropolitan Museum of Art
FIG. 80. The Vairochana Buddha of Japan. Carved and lacquered wood. Ca. 950 A.D.
Metropolitan Museum of Art
FIG. 81. The Daibutsu, or Great Buddha, at Kamakura
FIG. 82. Monkeys and Birds. By Sesshiu, 15th century
FIG. 83. A wave screen by Korin
Metropolitan Museum of Art
FIG. 84. The Falls of Yoro. By Hokusai
Metropolitan Museum of Art
FIG. 85. Foxes. By Hiroshige
Metropolitan Museum of Art
Maps or Egypt, the ancient Near East, India, and the Far East will be found on the inside covers
Illustration Section
FIG. 1—Granite statue of Rameses 11
Turin Museum, Italy
(See pages 188, 213)
FIG. 2—Bison painted in paleolithic cave at Altamira, Spain
Photo by American Museum of Natural History
(See page 96)
FIG. 3—Hypothetical reconstruction of a neolithic lake dwelling
American Museum of Natural History
(See page 98)
FIG. 4—Development of the alphabet
FIG. 5—Stele of Naram-sin
Louvre; photo by Archives Photographiques d’Art et d’Histoire
(See page 122)
FIG. 6—The “little” Gudea
Louvre; photo by Metropolitan Museum of Art
(See page 122)
FIG. 7—Temple of Der-el-Bahri
Photo by Lindsley F. Hall
(See page 154)
FIG. 8—Colonnade and court of the temple at Luxor
Photo by Metropolitan Museum of Art
(See page 142)
FIG. 9—Hypothetical reconstruction of the Hypostyle Hall at Karnak
From a model in the Metropolitan Museum of Art
FIG. 10—Colonnade of the Hypostyle Hall at Karnak
Underwood & Underwood
(See page 143)
FIG. 11—The Rosetta Stone
British Museum
(See page 145)
FIG. 12—Diorite head of the Pharaoh Khafre
Cairo Museum; photo by Metropolitan Museum of Art
(See pages 148, 186)
FIG. 13—The seated Scribe
Louvre; photo by Metropolitan Museum of Art
(See pages 161, 186)
FIG. 14—Wooden figure of the “Sheik-el-Beled”
Cairo Museum; photo by Metropolitan Museum of Art
(See pages 168, 186)
FIG. 15—Sandstone head from the workshop of the sculptor Thutmose at Amarna
State Museum, Berlin; photo by Metropolitan Museum of Art
FIG. 16—Head of a king, probably Senusret III
Metropolitan Museum of Art
FIG. 17—The royal falcon and serpent. Limestone relief from First Dynasty
Louvre; photo by Metropolitan Museum of Art
(See pages 184-190)
FIG. 18—Head of Thutmose III
Cairo Museum; photo by Metropolitan Museum of Art
FIG. 19—Rameses II presenting an offering
Cairo Museum; photo by Metropolitan Museum of Art
FIG. 20—Bronze figure of the Lady Tekoschet
Athens Museum; photo by Metropolitan Museum of Art
(See pages 188-9)
FIG. 21—Seated figure of Montumihait
State Museum, Berlin
FIG. 22—Colossi of Rameses II, with life-size figures of Queen Nofretete at his feet, at the cave temple of Abu Simbel
Ewing Galloway, N. Y.
(See page 188)
FIG. 23—The dancing girl Design on an ostracon
Turin Museum, Italy
(See page 191)
FIG. 24—Cat watching his prey. A wall-painting in the grave of Khnumhotep at Beni-Hasan
Copy by Howard Carter; courtesy of Egypt Exploration Society
(See page 190)
FIG. 25—Chair of Tutenkhamon
Cairo Museum; photo by Metropolitan Museum of Art
(See page 191)
FIG. 26—Painted limestone head of Ikhnaton’s Queen Nofretete
Metropolitan Museum of Art facsimile of original in State Museum, Berlin
(See page 188)
FIG. 27—The god Shamash transmits a code of laws to Hammurabi
Louvre; photo copyright W. A. Mansell & Co., London
(See page 219)
FIG. 28—The “Lion of Babylon” Painted tile-relief
State Museum, Berlin; Courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum of Art
(See pages 254-5)
FIG. 29—Head of Esarhaddon
State Museum, Berlin
(See page 281)
FIG. 30—The Prism of Sennacherib
Iraq Museum; courtesy of the Oriental Institute, University of Chicago
(See Chapter X)
FIG. 31—The Dying Lioness of Nineveh
British Museum; photo by Metropolitan Museum of Art
(See page 279)
FIG. 32—The Lion Hunt; relief on alabaster, from Nineveh
British Museum; Metropolitan Museum of Art
(See page 279)
FIG. 33—Assyrian relief of Marduk fighting Tiamat, from Kalakh
British Museum; photo copyright by W. A. Mansell, London
(See page 278)
FIG. 34—Winged Bull from the palace of Ashurnasirpal II at Kalakh
Metropolitan Museum of Art
(See page 279)
FIG. 35—A street in Jerusalem
FIG. 36—Hypothetical restoration of Solomon’s Temple
Underwood & Underwood
(See page 307)
FIG. 37—The ruins of Persepolis
Courtesy of the Oriental Institute, University of Chicago
(See page 379)
FIG. 38—“Frieze of the Archers” Painted tile-relief from Susa
Louvre; photo by Archives Photographiques d’Art et d’Histoire
(See page 380)
FIG. 39—Burning Ghat at Calcutta
Bronson de Cou, from Ewing Galloway, N. Y.
(See page 521)
FIG. 40—“Holy Men” at Benares
(See page 521)
FIG. 41—A fresco at Ajanta
(See pages 589-90)
FIG. 42—Mogul painting of Durbar of Akbar at Akbarabad. Ca. 1620
Boston Museum of Fine Arts
(See page 591)
FIG. 43—Torso of a youth, from Sanchi
Victoria and Albert Museum, London
(See pages 593-6)
FIG. 44—Seated statue of Brahma, 10th century
Metropolitan Museum of Art
FIG. 45—The Buddha of Sarnath, 5th century
Photo by A. K. Coomaraswamy
FIG. 46—The Naga-King. Façade relief on Ajanta Cave-temple XIX
Courtesy of A. K. Coomaraswamy
(See pages 593-6)
FIG. 47—The Dancing Shiva. South India, 17th century
Minneapolis Institute of Arts
(See page 594)
FIG. 48—The Three-faced Shiva, or Trimurti, Elephanta
Underwood & Underwood
(See page 594)
FIG. 49—The Buddha of Anuradhapura, Ceylon
Ewing Galloway, N. Y.
(See page 595)
FIG. 50—Lion capital of Ashoka column
Sarnath Museum, Benares; copyright Archaeological Survey of India
(See page 596)
FIG. 51—Sanchi Tope, north gate
Underwood & Underwood
(See page 597)
FIG. 52—Façade of the Gautami-Putra Monastery at Nasik
India Office, London
(See page 597)
FIG. 53—Chaitya hall interior, Cave XXVI, Ajanta.
(See page 598)
FIG. 54—Interior of dome of the Tejahpala Temple at Mt. Abu
Johnston & Hoffman, Calcutta
(See page 598)
FIG. 55—Temple of Vimala Sah at Mt. Abu
Underwood & Underwood
(See page 598)
FIG. 56—Cave XIX Ajanta
Indian State Railways
(See page 598)
FIG. 57—Elephanta Caves, near Bombay
By Cowling, from Ewing Galloway, N. Y.
(See page 596)
FIG. 58—The rock-cut Temple of Kailasha
Indian State Railways
(See page 601)
FIG. 59—Guardian deities, Temple of Elura
Indian State Railways
(See page 601)
FIG. 60—Façade, Angkor Wat, Indo-China
Publishers’ Photo Service
(See pages 604-5)
FIG. 61—Northeast end of Angkor Wat, Indo-China
Publishers’ Photo Service
(See pages 604-5)
FIG. 62—Rabindranath Tagore
Underwood & Underwood
(See page 619)
FIG. 63—Ananda Palace at Pagan, Burma
Underwood & Underwood
(See page 606)
FIG. 64—The Taj Mahal Agra
Ewing Galloway, N. Y.
(See page 609)
FIG. 65—Imperial jewel casket of blue lacquer
Underwood & Underwood
(See page 736)
FIG. 66—The lacquered screen of K’ang-hsi
Victoria and Albert Museum, London
(See page 736)
FIG. 67—A bronze Kuan-yin of the Sui period
Metropolitan Museum of Art
(See page 738)
FIG. 68—Summer Palace, Peiping
(See page 742)
FIG. 69—Temple of Heaven, Peiping
Publishers’ Photo Service
(See page 742)
FIG. 70—Portraits of Thirteen Emperors. Attributed to Yen Li-pen, 7th century
Boston Museum of Fine Arts
(See pages 745-52)
FIG. 71—The Silk-beaters. By the Emperor Hui Tsung (1101-26)
Boston Museum of Fine Arts
(See page 750)
FIG. 72—Landscape with Bridge and Willows. Ma Yuan, 12th century
Boston Museum of Fine Arts
(See page 751)
FIG. 73—A hawthorn vase from the K’ang-hsi period
Metropolitan Museum of Art
(See page 758)
FIG. 74—Geisha girls
Ewing Galloway, N. Y.
(See page 862)
FIG. 75—Kiyomizu Temple, Kyoto, once a favorite resort of Japanese suicides
Underwood & Underwood
(See page 895)
FIG. 76—Yo-mei-mon Gate, Nikko
(See page 895)
FIG. 77—The Monkeys of Nikko. “Hear no evil, speak no evil, see no evil”
Ewing Galloway, N. Y.
(See page 895)
FIG. 78—Image of Amida-Buddha at Horiuji
Photo by Metropolitan Museum of Art
(See page 897)
FIG. 79—The bronze halo and background of the Amida at Horiuji
Photo by Metropolitan Museum of Art
(See page 897)
FIG. 80—The Vairochana Buddha of Japan. Carved and lacquered wood. Ca. 950 A.D.
Metropolitan Museum of Art
(See pages 896-8)
FIG. 81—The Daibutsu, or Great Buddha, at Kamakura
(See page 898)
FIG. 82—Monkeys and Birds. By Sesshiu, 15th century
(See pages 904-5)
FIG. 83—A wave screen by Korin
Metropolitan Museum of Art
(See page 906)
FIG. 84—The Falls of Yoro. By Hokusai
Metropolitan Museum of Art
(See pages 907-10)
FIG. 85—Foxes. By Hiroshige
Metropolitan Museum of Art
INTRODUCTION
THE ESTABLISHMENT OF CIVILIZATION
“I want to know what were the steps by which men passed from barbarism to civilization.”
—VOLTAIRE.1
CHAPTER I
The Conditions of Civilization*
Definition—Geological conditions—Geographical—Economic—Racial—Psychological—Causes of the decay of civilizations
CIVILIZATION is social order promoting cultural creation. Four elements constitute it: economic provision, political organization, moral traditions, and the pursuit of knowledge and the arts. It begins where chaos and insecurity end. For when fear is overcome, curiosity and constructiveness are free, and man passes by natural impulse towards the understanding and embellishment of life.
Certain factors condition civilization, and may encourage or impede it. First, geological conditions. Civilization is an interlude between ice ages: at any time the current of glaciation may rise again, cover with ice and stone the works of man, and reduce life to some narrow segment of the earth. Or the demon of earthquake, by whose leave we build our cities, may shrug his shoulders and consume us indifferently.
Second, geographical conditions. The heat of the tropics, and the innumerable parasites that infest them, are hostile to civilization; lethargy and disease, and a precocious maturity and decay, divert the energies from those inessentials of life that make civilization, and absorb them in hunger and reproduction; nothing is left for the play of the arts and the mind. Rain is necessary; for water is the medium of life, more important even than the light of the sun; the unintelligible whim of the elements may condemn to desiccation regions that once flourished with empire and industry, like Nineveh or Babylon, or may help to swift strength and wealth cities apparently off the main line of transport and communication, like those of Great Britain or Puget Sound. If the soil is fertile in food or minerals, if rivers offer an easy avenue of exchange, if the coast-line is indented with natural harbors for a commercial fleet, if, above all, a nation lies on the highroad of the world’s trade, like Athens or Carthage, Florence or Venice—then geography, though it can never create it, smiles upon civilization, and nourishes it.
Economic conditions are more important. A people may possess ordered institutions, a lofty moral code, and even a flair for the minor forms of art, like the American Indians; and yet if it remains in the hunting stage, if it depends for its existence upon the precarious fortunes of the chase, it will never quite pass from barbarism to civilization. A nomad stock, like the Bedouins of Arabia, may be exceptionally intelligent and vigorous, it may display high qualities of character like courage, generosity and nobility; but without that simple sine qua non of culture, a continuity of food, its intelligence will be lavished on the perils of the hunt and the tricks of trade, and nothing will remain for the laces and frills, the curtsies and amenities, the arts and comforts, of civilization. The first form of culture is agriculture. It is when man settles down to till the soil and lay up provisions for the uncertain future that he finds time and reason to be civilized. Within that little circle of security—a reliable supply of water and food—he builds his huts, his temples and his schools; he invents productive tools, and domesticates the dog, the ass, the pig, at last himself. He learns to work with regularity and order, maintains a longer tenure of life, and transmits more completely than before the mental and moral heritage of his race.
Culture suggests agriculture, but civilization suggests the city. In one aspect civilization is the habit of civility; and civility is the refinement which townsmen, who made the word, thought possible only in the civitas or city.* For in the city are gathered, rightly or wrongly, the wealth and brains produced in the countryside; in the city invention and industry multiply comforts, luxuries and leisure; in the city traders meet, and barter goods and ideas; in that cross-fertilization of minds at the crossroads of trade intelligence is sharpened and stimulated to creative power. In the city some men are set aside from the making of material things, and produce science and philosophy, literature and art. Civilization begins in the peasant’s hut, but it comes to flower only in the towns.
There are no racial conditions to civilization. It may appear on any continent and in any color: at Pekin or Delhi, at Memphis or Babylon, at Ravenna or London, in Peru or Yucatan. It is not the great race that makes the civilization, it is the great civilization that makes the people; circumstances geographical and economic create a culture, and the culture creates a type. The Englishman does not make British civilization, it makes him; if he carries it with him wherever he goes, and dresses for dinner in Timbuktu, it is not that he is creating his civilization there anew, but that he acknowledges even there its mastery over his soul. Given like material conditions, and another race would beget like results; Japan reproduces in the twentieth century the history of England in the nineteenth. Civilization is related to race only in the sense that it is often preceded by the slow intermarriage of different stocks, and their gradual assimilation into a relatively homogeneous people.*
These physical and biological conditions are only prerequisites to civilization; they do not constitute or generate it. Subtle psychological factors must enter into play. There must be political order, even if it be so near to chaos as in Renaissance Florence or Rome; men must feel, by and large, that they need not look for death or taxes at every turn. There must be some unity of language to serve as a medium of mental exchange. Through church, or family, or school, or otherwise, there must be a unifying moral code, some rules of the game of life acknowledged even by those who violate them, and giving to conduct some order and regularity, some direction and stimulus. Perhaps there must also be some unity of basic belief, some faith, supernatural or utopian, that lifts morality from calculation to devotion, and gives life nobility and significance despite our mortal brevity. And finally there must be education—some technique, however primitive, for the transmission of culture. Whether through imitation, initiation or instruction, whether through father or mother, teacher or priest, the lore and heritage of the tribe—its language and knowledge, its morals and manners, its technology and arts—must be handed down to the young, as the very instrument through which they are turned from animals into men.
The disappearance of these conditions—sometimes of even one of them—may destroy a civilization. A geological cataclysm or a profound climatic change; an uncontrolled epidemic like that which wiped out half the population of the Roman Empire under the Antonines, or the Black Death that helped to end the Feudal Age; the exhaustion of the land, or the ruin of agriculture through the exploitation of the country by the town, resulting in a precarious dependence upon foreign food supplies; the failure of natural resources, either of fuels or of raw materials; a change in trade routes, leaving a nation off the main line of the world’s commerce; mental or moral decay from the strains, stimuli and contacts of urban life, from the breakdown of traditional sources of social discipline and the inability to replace them; the weakening of the stock by a disorderly sexual life, or by an epicurean, pessimist, or quietist philosophy; the decay of leadership through the infertility of the able, and the relative smallness of the families that might bequeath most fully the cultural inheritance of the race; a pathological concentration of wealth, leading to class wars, disruptive revolutions, and financial exhaustion: these are some of the ways in which a civilization may die. For civilization is not something inborn or imperishable; it must be acquired anew by every generation, and any serious interruption in its financing or its transmission may bring it to an end. Man differs from the beast only by education, which may be defined as the technique of transmitting civilization.
Civilizations are the generations of the racial soul. As family-rearing, and then writing, bound the generations together, handing down the lore of the dying to the young, so print and commerce and a thousand ways of communication may bind the civilizations together, and preserve for future cultures all that is of value for them in our own. Let us, before we die, gather up our heritage, and offer it to our children.
CHAPTER II
The Economic Elements of Civilization*
IN one important sense the “savage,” too, is civilized, for he carefully transmits to his children the heritage of the tribe—that complex of economic, political, mental and moral habits and institutions which it has developed in its efforts to maintain and enjoy itself on the earth. It is impossible to be scientific here; for in calling other human beings “savage” or “barbarous” we may be expressing no objective fact, but only our fierce fondness for ourselves, and our timid shyness in the presence of alien ways. Doubtless we underestimate these simple peoples, who have so much to teach us in hospitality and morals; if we list the bases and constituents of civilization we shall find that the naked nations invented or arrived at all but one of them, and left nothing for us to add except embellishments and writing. Perhaps they, too, were once civilized, and desisted from it as a nuisance. We must make sparing use of such terms as “savage” and “barbarous” in referring to our “contemporaneous ancestry.” Preferably we shall call “primitive” all tribes that make little or no provision for unproductive days, and little or no use of writing. In contrast, the civilized may be defined as literate providers.
I. FROM HUNTING TO TILLAGE
Primitive improvidence—Beginnings of provision—Hunting and
fishing—Herding—The domestication of animals—Agriculture—
Food—Cooking—Cannibalism
“Three meals a day are a highly advanced institution. Savages gorge themselves or fast.”2 The wilder tribes among the American Indians considered it weak-kneed and unseemly to preserve food for the next day.3 The natives of Australia are incapable of any labor whose reward is not immediate; every Hottentot is a gentleman of leisure; and with the Bushmen of Africa it is always “either a feast or a famine.”4 There is a mute wisdom in this improvidence, as in many “savage” ways. The moment man begins to take thought of the morrow he passes out of the Garden of Eden into the vale of anxiety; the pale cast of worry settles down upon him, greed is sharpened, property begins, and the good cheer of the “thoughtless” native disappears. The American Negro is making this transition today. “Of what are you thinking?” Peary asked one of his Eskimo guides. “I do not have to think,” was the answer; “I have plenty of meat.” Not to think unless we have to—there is much to be said for this as the summation of wisdom.
Nevertheless, there were difficulties in this carelessness, and those organisms that outgrew it came to possess a serious advantage in the struggle for survival. The dog that buried the bone which even a canine appetite could not manage, the squirrel that gathered nuts for a later feast, the bees that filled the comb with honey, the ants that laid up stores for a rainy day—these were among the first creators of civilization. It was they, or other subtle creatures like them, who taught our ancestors the art of providing for tomorrow out of the surplus of today, or of preparing for winter in summer’s time of plenty.
With what skill those ancestors ferreted out, from land and sea, the food that was the basis of their simple societies! They grubbed edible things from the earth with bare hands; they imitated or used the claws and tusks of the animals, and fashioned tools out of ivory, bone or stone; they made nets and traps and snares of rushes or fibre, and devised innumerable artifices for fishing and hunting their prey. The Polynesians had nets a thousand ells long, which could be handled only by a hundred men; in such ways economic provision grew hand in hand with political organization, and the united quest for food helped to generate the state. The Tlingit fisherman put upon his head a cap like the head of a seal, and hiding his body among the rocks, made a noise like a seal; seals came toward him, and he speared them with the clear conscience of primitive war. Many tribes threw narcotics into the streams to stupefy the fish into cooperation with the fishermen; the Tahitians, for example, put into the water an intoxicating mixture prepared from the huteo nut or the hora plant; the fish, drunk with it, floated leisurely on the surface, and were caught at the anglers’ will. Australian natives, swimming under water while breathing through a reed, pulled ducks beneath the surface by the legs, and gently held them there till they were pacified. The Tarahumaras caught birds by stringing kernels on tough fibres half buried under the ground; the birds ate the kernels, and the Tarahumaras ate the birds.5
Hunting is now to most of us a game, whose relish seems based upon some mystic remembrance, in the blood, of ancient days when to hunter as well as hunted it was a matter of life and death. For hunting was not merely a quest for food, it was a war for security and mastery, a war beside which all the wars of recorded history are but a little noise. In the jungle man still fights for his life, for though there is hardly an animal that will attack him unless it is desperate for food or cornered in the chase, yet there is not always food for all, and sometimes only the fighter, or the breeder of fighters, is allowed to eat. We see in our museums the relics of that war of the species in the knives, clubs, spears, arrows, lassos, bolas, lures, traps, boomerangs and slings with which primitive men won possession of the land, and prepared to transmit to an ungrateful posterity the gift of security from every beast except man. Even today, after all these wars of elimination, how many different populations move over the earth! Sometimes, during a walk in the woods, one is awed by the variety of languages spoken there, by the myriad species of insects, reptiles, carnivores and birds; one feels that man is an interloper on this crowded scene, that he is the object of universal dread and endless hostility. Some day, perhaps, these chattering quadrupeds, these ingratiating centipedes, these insinuating bacilli, will devour man and all his works, and free the planet from this marauding biped, these mysterious and unnatural weapons, these careless feet!
Hunting and fishing were not stages in economic development, they were modes of activity destined to survive into the highest forms of civilized society. Once the center of life, they are still its hidden foundations; behind our literature and philosophy, our ritual and art, stand the stout killers of Packingtown. We do our hunting by proxy, not having the stomach for honest killing in the fields; but our memories of the chase linger in our joyful pursuit of anything weak or fugitive, and in the games of our children—even in the word game. In the last analysis civilization is based upon the food supply. The cathedral and the capitol, the museum and the concert chamber, the library and the university are the façade; in the rear are the shambles.
To live by hunting was not original; if man had confined himself to that he would have been just another carnivore. He began to be human when out of the uncertain hunt he developed the greater security and continuity of the pastoral life. For this involved advantages of high importance: the domestication of animals, the breeding of cattle, and the use of milk. We do not know when or how domestication began—perhaps when the helpless young of slain beasts were spared and brought to the camp as playthings for the children.6 The animal continued to be eaten, but not so soon; it acted as a beast of burden, but it was accepted almost democratically into the society of man; it became his comrade, and formed with him a community of labor and residence. The miracle of reproduction was brought under control, and two captives were multiplied into a herd. Animal milk released women from prolonged nursing, lowered infantile mortality, and provided a new and dependable food. Population increased, life became more stable and orderly, and the mastery of that timid parvenu, man, became more secure on the earth.
Meanwhile woman was making the greatest economic discovery of all—the bounty of the soil. While man hunted she grubbed about the tent or hut for whatever edible things lay ready to her hand on the ground. In Australia it was understood that during the absence of her mate on the chase the wife would dig for roots, pluck fruit and nuts from the trees, and collect honey, mushrooms, seeds and natural grains.7 Even today, in certain tribes of Australia, the grains that grow spontaneously out of the earth are harvested without any attempt to separate and sow the seed; the Indians of the Sacramento River Valley never advanced beyond this stage.8 We shall never discover when men first noted the function of the seed, and turned collecting into sowing; such beginnings are the mysteries of history, about which we may believe and guess, but cannot know. It is possible that when men began to collect unplanted grains, seeds fell along the way between field and camp, and suggested at last the great secret of growth. The Juangs threw the seeds together into the ground, leaving them to find their own way up. The natives of Borneo put the seed into holes which they dug with a pointed stick as they walked the fields.9 The simplest known culture of the earth is with this stick or “digger.” In Madagascar fifty years ago the traveler could still see women armed with pointed sticks, standing in a row like soldiers, and then, at a signal, digging their sticks into the ground, turning over the soil, throwing in the seed, stamping the earth flat, and passing on to another furrow.10 The second stage in complexity was culture with the hoe: the digging stick was tipped with bone, and fitted with a crosspiece to receive the pressure of the foot. When the Conquistadores arrived in Mexico they found that the Aztecs knew no other tool of tillage than the hoe. With the domestication of animals and the forging of metals a heavier implement could be used; the hoe was enlarged into a plough, and the deeper turning of the soil revealed a fertility in the earth that changed the whole career of man. Wild plants were domesticated, new varieties were developed, old varieties were improved.
Finally nature taught man the art of provision, the virtue of prudence,* the concept of time. Watching woodpeckers storing acorns in the trees, and the bees storing honey in hives, man conceived—perhaps after millenniums of improvident savagery—the notion of laying up food for the future. He found ways of preserving meat by smoking it, salting it, freezing it; better still, he built granaries secure from rain and damp, vermin and thieves, and gathered food into them for the leaner months of the year. Slowly it became apparent that agriculture could provide a better and steadier food supply than hunting. With that realization man took one of the three steps that led from the beast to civilization—speech, agriculture, and writing.
It is not to be supposed that man passed suddenly from hunting to tillage. Many tribes, like the American Indians, remained permanently becalmed in the transition—the men given to the chase, the women tilling the soil. Not only was the change presumably gradual, but it was never complete. Man merely added a new way of securing food to an old way; and for the most part, throughout his history, he has preferred the old food to the new. We picture early man experimenting with a thousand products of the earth to find, at much cost to his inward comfort, which of them could be eaten safely; mingling these more and more with the fruits and nuts, the flesh and fish he was accustomed to, but always yearning for the booty of the chase. Primitive peoples are ravenously fond of meat, even when they live mainly on cereals, vegetables and milk.11 If they come upon the carcass of a recently dead animal the result is likely to be a wild debauch. Very often no time is wasted on cooking; the prey is eaten raw, as fast as good teeth can tear and devour it; soon nothing is left but the bones. Whole tribes have been known to feast for a week on a whale thrown up on the shore.12 Though the Fuegians can cook, they prefer their meat raw; when they catch a fish they kill it by biting it behind the gills, and then consume it from head to tail without further ritual.13 The uncertainty of the food supply made these nature peoples almost literally omnivorous: shellfish, sea urchins, frogs, toads, snails, mice, rats, spiders, earthworms, scorpions, moths, centipedes, locusts, caterpillars, lizards, snakes, boas, dogs, horses, roots, lice, insects, larvae, the eggs of reptiles and birds—there is not one of these but was somewhere a delicacy, or even a pièce de résistance, to primitive men.14 Some tribes are expert hunters of ants; others dry insects in the sun and then store them for a feast; others pick the lice out of one another’s hair, and eat them with relish; if a great number of lice can be gathered to make a petite marmite, they are devoured with shouts of joy, as enemies of the human race.15 The menu of the lower hunting tribes hardly differs from that of the higher apes.16
The discovery of fire limited this indiscriminate voracity, and coöperated with agriculture to free man from the chase. Cooking broke down the cellulose and starch of a thousand plants indigestible in their raw state, and man turned more and more to cereals and vegetables as his chief reliance. At the same time cooking, by softening tough foods, reduced the need of chewing, and began that decay of the teeth which is one of the insignia of civilization.
To all the varied articles of diet that we have enumerated, man added the greatest delicacy of all—his fellowman. Cannibalism was at one time practically universal; it has been found in nearly all primitive tribes, and among such later peoples as the Irish, the Iberians, the Picts, and the eleventh-century Danes.17 Among many tribes human flesh was a staple of trade, and funerals were unknown. In the Upper Congo living men, women and children were bought and sold frankly as articles of food;18 on the island of New Britain human meat was sold in shops as butcher’s meat is sold among ourselves; and in some of the Solomon Islands human victims, preferably women, were fattened for a feast like pigs.19 The Fuegians ranked women above dogs because, they said, “dogs taste of otter.” In Tahiti an old Polynesian chief explained his diet to Pierre Loti: “The white man, when well roasted, tastes like a ripe banana.” The Fijians, however, complained that the flesh of the whites was too salty and tough, and that a European sailor was hardly fit to eat; a Polynesian tasted better.20
What was the origin of this practice? There is no surety that the custom arose, as formerly supposed, out of a shortage of other food; if it did, the taste once formed survived the shortage, and became a passionate predilection.21 Everywhere among nature peoples blood is regarded as a delicacy—never with horror; even primitive vegetarians take to it with gusto. Human blood is constantly drunk by tribes otherwise kindly and generous; sometimes as medicine, sometimes as a rite or covenant, often in the belief that it will add to the drinker the vital force of the victim.22 No shame was felt in preferring human flesh; primitive man seems to have recognized no distinction in morals between eating men and eating other animals. In Melanesia the chief who could treat his friends to a dish of roast man soared in social esteem. “When I have slain an enemy,” explained a Brazilian philosopher-chief, “it is surely better to eat him than to let him waste.. . . The worst is not to be eaten, but to die; if I am killed it is all the same whether my tribal enemy eats me or not. But I could not think of any game that would taste better than he would. . . . You whites are really too dainty.”23
Doubtless the custom had certain social advantages. It anticipated Dean Swift’s plan for the utilization of superfluous children, and it gave the old an opportunity to die usefully. There is a point of view from which funerals seem an unnecessary extravagance. To Montaigne it appeared more barbarous to torture a man to death under the cover of piety, as was the mode of his time, than to roast and eat him after he was dead. We must respect one another’s delusions.
II. THE FOUNDATIONS OF INDUSTRY
Fire—Primitive Tools—Weaving and pottery—Building and transport—Trade and finance
If man began with speech, and civilization with agriculture, industry began with fire. Man did not invent it; probably nature produced the marvel for him by the friction of leaves or twigs, a stroke of lightning, or a chance union of chemicals; man merely had the saving wit to imitate nature, and to improve upon her. He put the wonder to a thousand uses. First, perhaps, he made it serve as a torch to conquer his fearsome enemy, the dark; then he used it for warmth, and moved more freely from his native tropics to less enervating zones, slowly making the planet human; then he applied it to metals, softening them, tempering them, and combining them into forms stronger and suppler than those in which they had come to his hand. So beneficent and strange was it that fire always remained a miracle to primitive man, fit to be worshiped as a god; he offered it countless ceremonies of devotion, and made it the center or focus (which is Latin for hearth) of his life and home; he carried it carefully with him as he moved from place to place in his wanderings, and would not willingly let it die. Even the Romans punished with death the careless vestal virgin who allowed the sacred fire to be extinguished.
Meanwhile, in the midst of hunting, herding and agriculture, invention was busy, and the primitive brain was racking itself to find mechanical answers to the economic puzzles of life. At first man was content, apparently, to accept what nature offered him—the fruits of the earth as his food, the skins and furs of the animals as his clothing, the caves in the hillsides as his home. Then, perhaps (for most history is guessing, and the rest is prejudice), he imitated the tools and industry of the animal: he saw the monkey flinging rocks and fruit upon his enemies, or breaking open nuts and oysters with a stone; he saw the beaver building a dam, the birds making nests and bowers, the chimpanzees raising something very like a hut. He envied the power of their claws, teeth, tusks and horns, and the toughness of their hides; and he set to work to fashion tools and weapons that would resemble and rival these. Man, said Franklin, is a tool-using animal;24 but this, too, like the other distinctions on which we plume ourselves, is only a difference of degree.
Many tools lay potential in the plant world that surrounded primitive man. From the bamboo he made shafts, knives, needles and bottles; out of branches he made tongs, pincers and vices; from bark and fibres he wove cord and clothing of a hundred kinds. Above all, he made himself a stick. It was a modest invention, but its uses were so varied that man always looked upon it as a symbol of power and authority, from the wand of the fairies and the staff of the shepherd to the rod of Moses or Aaron, the ivory cane of the Roman consul, the lituus of the augurs, and the mace of the magistrate or the king. In agriculture the stick became the hoe; in war it became the lance or javelin or spear, the sword or bayonet.25 Again, man used the mineral world, and shaped stones into a museum of arms and implements: hammers, anvils, kettles, scrapers, arrow-heads, saws, planes, wedges, levers, axes and drills. From the animal world he made ladles, spoons, vases, gourds, plates, cups, razors and hooks out of the shells of the shore, and tough or dainty tools out of the horn or ivory, the teeth and bones, the hair and hide of the beasts. Most of these fashioned articles had handles of wood, attached to them in cunning ways, bound with braids of fibre or cords of animal sinew, and occasionally glued with strange mixtures of blood. The ingenuity of primitive men probably equaled—perhaps it surpassed—that of the average modern man; we differ from them through the social accumulation of knowledge, materials and tools, rather than through innate superiority of brains. Indeed, nature men delight in mastering the necessities of a situation with inventive wit. It was a favorite game among the Eskimos to go off into difficult and deserted places, and rival one another in devising means for meeting the needs of a life unequipped and unadorned.26
* This primitive skill displayed itself proudly in the art of weaving. Here, too, the animal showed man the way. The web of the spider, the nest of the bird, the crossing and texture of fibres and leaves in the natural embroidery of the woods, set an example so obvious that in all probability weaving was one of the earliest arts of the human race. Bark, leaves and grass fibres were woven into clothing, carpets and tapestry, sometimes so excellent that it could not be rivaled today, even with the resources of contemporary machinery. Aleutian women may spend a year in weaving one robe. The blankets and garments made by the North American Indians were richly ornamented with fringes and embroideries of hairs and tendon-threads dyed in brilliant colors with berry juice; colors “so alive,” says Father Théodut, “that ours do not seem even to approach them.”27 Again art began where nature left off; the bones of birds and fishes, and the slim shoots of the bamboo tree, were polished into needles, and the tendons of animals were drawn into threads delicate enough to pass through the eye of the finest needle today. Bark was beaten into mats and cloths, skins were dried for clothing and shoes, fibres were twisted into the strongest yarn, and supple branches and colored filaments were woven into baskets more beautiful than any modern forms.28
Akin to basketry, perhaps born of it, was the art of pottery. Clay placed upon wickerwork to keep the latter from being burned, hardened into a fireproof shell which kept its form when the wickerwork was taken away;29 this may have been the first stage of a development that was to culminate in the perfect porcelains of China. Or perhaps some lumps of clay, baked and hardened by the sun, suggested the ceramic art; it was but a step from this to substitute fire for the sun, and to form from the earth myriad shapes of vessels for every use—for cooking, storing and transporting, at last for luxury and ornament. Designs imprinted by finger-nail or tool upon the wet clay were one of the first forms of art, and perhaps one of the origins of writing.
Out of sun-dried clay primitive tribes made bricks and adobe, and dwelt, so to speak, in pottery. But that was a late stage of the building art, binding the mud hut of the “savage” in a chain of continuous development with the brilliant tiles of Nineveh and Babylon. Some primitive peoples, like the Veddahs of Ceylon, had no dwellings at all, and were content with the earth and the sky; some, like the Tasmanians, slept in hollow trees; some, like the natives of New South Wales, lived in caves; others, like the Bushmen, built here and there a wind-shelter of branches, or, more rarely, drove piles into the soil and covered their tops with moss and twigs. From such wind-shelters, when sides were added, evolved the hut, which is found among the natives of Australia in all its stages from a tiny cottage of branches, grass and earth large enough to cover two or three persons, to great huts housing thirty or more. The nomad hunter or herdsman preferred a tent, which he could carry wherever the chase might lead him. The higher type of nature peoples, like the American Indian, built with wood; the Iroquois, for example, raised, out of timber still bearing the bark, sprawling edifices five hundred feet long, which sheltered many families. Finally, the natives of Oceania made real houses of carefully cut boards, and the evolution of the wooden dwelling was complete.30
Only three further developments were needed for primitive man to create all the essentials of economic civilization: the mechanisms of transport, the processes of trade, and the medium of exchange. The porter carrying his load from a modern plane pictures the earliest and latest stages in the history of transportation. In the beginning, doubtless, man was his own beast of burden, unless he was married; to this day, for the most part, in southern and eastern Asia, man is wagon and donkey and all. Then he invented ropes, levers, and pulleys; he conquered and loaded the animal; he made the first sledge by having his cattle draw along the ground long branches bearing his goods;* he put logs as rollers under the sledge; he cut cross-sections of the log, and made the greatest of all mechanical inventions, the wheel; he put wheels under the sledge and made a cart. Other logs he bound together as rafts, or dug into canoes; and the streams became his most convenient avenues of transport. By land he went first through trackless fields and hills, then by trails, at last by roads. He studied the stars, and guided his caravans across mountains and deserts by tracing his route in the sky. He paddled, rowed or sailed his way bravely from island to island, and at last spanned oceans to spread his modest culture from continent to continent. Here, too, the main problems were solved before written history began.
Since human skills and natural resources are diversely and unequally distributed, a people may be enabled, by the development of specific talents, or by its proximity to needed materials, to produce certain articles more cheaply than its neighbors. Of such articles it makes more than it consumes, and offers its surplus to other peoples in exchange for their own; this is the origin of trade. The Chibcha Indians of Colombia exported the rock salt that abounded in their territory, and received in return the cereals that could not be raised on their barren soil. Certain American Indian villages were almost entirely devoted to making arrow-heads; some in New Guinea to making pottery; some in Africa to blacksmithing, or to making boats or lances. Such specializing tribes or villages sometimes acquired the names of their industry (Smith, Fisher, Potter . . .), and these names were in time attached to specializing families.30a Trade in surpluses was at first by an interchange of gifts; even in our calculating days a present (if only a meal) sometimes precedes or seals a trade. The exchange was facilitated by war, robbery, tribute, fines, and compensation; goods had to be kept moving! Gradually an orderly system of barter grew up, and trading posts, markets and bazaars were established—occasionally, then periodically, then permanently—where those who had some article in excess might offer it for some article of need.31
For a long time commerce was purely such exchange, and centuries passed before a circulating medium of value was invented to quicken trade. A Dyak might be seen wandering for days through a bazaar, with a ball of beeswax in his hand, seeking a customer who could offer him in return something that he might more profitably use.32 The earliest mediums of exchange were articles universally in demand, which anyone would take in payment: dates, salt, skins, furs, ornaments, implements, weapons; in such traffic two knives equaled one pair of stockings, all three equaled a blanket, all four equaled a gun, all five equaled a horse; two elk-teeth equaled one pony, and eight ponies equaled a wife.33 There is hardly any thing that has not been employed as money by some people at some time: beans, fish-hooks, shells, pearls, beads, cocoa seeds, tea, pepper, at last sheep, pigs, cows, and slaves. Cattle were a convenient standard of value and medium of exchange among hunters and herders; they bore interest through breeding, and they were easy to carry, since they transported themselves. Even in Homer’s days men and things were valued in terms of cattle: the armor of Diomedes was worth nine head of cattle, a skilful slave was worth four. The Romans used kindred words—pecus and pecunia—for cattle and money, and placed the image of an ox upon their early coins. Our own words capital, chattel and cattle go back through the French to the Latin capitale, meaning property: and this in turn derives from caput, meaning head—i.e., of cattle. When metals were mined they slowly replaced other articles as standards of value; copper, bronze, iron, finally—because of their convenient representation of great worth in little space and weight—silver and gold, became the money of mankind. The advance from token goods to a metallic currency does not seem to have been made by primitive men; it was left for the historic civilizations to invent coinage and credit, and so, by further facilitating the exchange of surpluses, to increase again the wealth and comfort of man.34
III. ECONOMIC ORGANIZATION
Primitive communism—Causes of its disappearance—Origins of private property—Slavery—Classes
Trade was the great disturber of the primitive world, for until it came, bringing money and profit in its wake, there was no property, and therefore little government. In the early stages of economic development property was limited for the most part to things personally used; the property sense applied so strongly to such articles that they (even the wife) were often buried with their owner; it applied so weakly to things not personally used that in their case the sense of property, far from being innate, required perpetual reinforcement and inculcation.
Almost everywhere, among primitive peoples, land was owned by the community. The North American Indians, the natives of Peru, the Chittagong Hill tribes of India, the Borneans and South Sea Islanders seem to have owned and tilled the soil in common, and to have shared the fruits together. “The land,” said the Omaha Indians, “is like water and wind—what cannot be sold.” In Samoa the idea of selling land was unknown prior to the coming of the white man. Professor Rivers found communism in land still existing in Melanesia and Polynesia; and in inner Liberia it may be observed today.35
Only less widespread was communism in food. It was usual among “savages” for the man who had food to share it with the man who had none, for travelers to be fed at any home they chose to stop at on their way, and for communities harassed with drought to be maintained by their neighbors.36 If a man sat down to his meal in the woods he was expected to call loudly for some one to come and share it with him, before he might justly eat alone.37 When Turner told a Samoan about the poor in London the “savage” asked in astonishment: “How is it? No food? No friends? No house to live in? Where did he grow? Are there no houses belonging to his friends?”38 The hungry Indian had but to ask to receive; no matter how small the supply was, food was given him if he needed it; “no one can want food while there is corn anywhere in the town.”39 Among the Hottentots it was the custom for one who had more than others to share his surplus till all were equal. White travelers in Africa before the advent of civilization noted that a present of food or other valuables to a “black man” was at once distributed; so that when a suit of clothes was given to one of them the donor soon found the recipient wearing the hat, a friend the trousers, another friend the coat. The Eskimo hunter had no personal right to his catch; it had to be divided among the inhabitants of the village, and tools and provisions were the common property of all. The North American Indians were described by Captain Carver as “strangers to all distinctions of property, except in the articles of domestic use. . . . They are extremely liberal to each other, and supply the deficiencies of their friends with any superfluity of their own.” “What is extremely surprising,” reports a missionary, “is to see them treat one another with a gentleness and consideration which one does not find among common people in the most civilized nations. This, doubtless, arises from the fact that the words ‘mine’ and ‘thine,’ which St. Chrysostom says extinguish in our hearts the fire of charity and kindle that of greed, are unknown to these savages.” “I have seen them,” says another observer, “divide game among themselves when they sometimes had many shares to make; and cannot recollect a single instance of their falling into a dispute or finding fault with the distribution as being unequal or otherwise objectionable. They would rather lie down themselves on an empty stomach than have it laid to their charge that they neglected to satisfy the needy. . . . They look upon themselves as but one great family.”40
Why did this primitive communism disappear as men rose to what we, with some partiality, call civilization? Sumner believed that communism proved unbiological, a handicap in the struggle for existence; that it gave insufficient stimulus to inventiveness, industry and thrift; and that the failure to reward the more able, and punish the less able, made for a leveling of capacity which was hostile to growth or to successful competition with other groups.41 Loskiel reported some Indian tribes of the northeast as “so lazy that they plant nothing themselves, but rely entirely upon the expectation that others will not refuse to share their produce with them. Since the industrious thus enjoy no more of the fruits of their labor than the idle, they plant less every year.”42 Darwin thought that the perfect equality among the Fuegians was fatal to any hope of their becoming civilized;43 or, as the Fuegians might have put it, civilization would have been fatal to their equality. Communism brought a certain security to all who survived the diseases and accidents due to the poverty and ignorance of primitive society; but it did not lift them out of that poverty. Individualism brought wealth, but it brought, also, insecurity and slavery; it stimulated the latent powers of superior men, but it intensified the competition of life, and made men feel bitterly a poverty which, when all shared it alike, had seemed to oppress none.*
Communism could survive more easily in societies where men were always on the move, and danger and want were ever present. Hunters and herders had no need of private property in land; but when agriculture became the settled life of men it soon appeared that the land was most fruitfully tilled when the rewards of careful husbandry accrued to the family that had provided it. Consequently—since there is a natural selection of institutions and ideas as well as of organisms and groups—the passage from hunting to agriculture brought a change from tribal property to family property; the most economical unit of production became the unit of ownership. As the family took on more and more a patriarchal form, with authority centralized in the oldest male, property became increasingly individualized, and personal bequest arose. Frequently an enterprising individual would leave the family haven, adventure beyond the traditional boundaries, and by hard labor reclaim land from the forest, the jungle or the marsh; such land he guarded jealously as his own, and in the end society recognized his right, and another form of individual property began.43a As the pressure of population increased, and older lands were exhausted, such reclamation went on in a widening circle, until, in the more complex societies, individual ownership became the order of the day. The invention of money coöperated with these factors by facilitating the accumulation, transport and transmission of property. The old tribal rights and traditions reasserted themselves in the technical ownership of the soil by the village community or the king, and in periodical redistributions of the land; but after an epoch of natural oscillation between the old and the new, private property established itself definitely as the basic economic institution of historical society.
Agriculture, while generating civilization, led not only to private property but to slavery. In purely hunting communities slavery had been unknown; the hunter’s wives and children sufficed to do the menial work. The men alternated between the excited activity of hunting or war, and the exhausted lassitude of satiety or peace. The characteristic laziness of primitive peoples had its origin, presumably, in this habit of slowly recuperating from the fatigue of battle or the chase; it was not so much laziness as rest. To transform this spasmodic activity into regular work two things were needed: the routine of tillage, and the organization of labor.
Such organization remains loose and spontaneous where men are working for themselves; where they work for others, the organization of labor depends in the last analysis upon force. The rise of agriculture and the inequality of men led to the employment of the socially weak by the socially strong; not till then did it occur to the victor in war that the only good prisoner is a live one. Butchery and cannibalism lessened, slavery grew.44 It was a great moral improvement when men ceased to kill or eat their fellowmen, and merely made them slaves. A similar development on a larger scale may be seen today, when a nation victorious in war no longer exterminates the enemy, but enslaves it with indemnities. Once slavery had been established and had proved profitable, it was extended by condemning to it defaulting debtors and obstinate criminals, and by raids undertaken specifically to capture slaves. War helped to make slavery, and slavery helped to make war.
Probably it was through centuries of slavery that our race acquired its traditions and habits of toil. No one would do any hard or persistent work if he could avoid it without physical, economic or social penalty. Slavery became part of the discipline by which man was prepared for industry. Indirectly it furthered civilization, in so far as it increased wealth and—for a minority—created leisure. After some centuries men took it for granted; Aristotle argued for slavery as natural and inevitable, and St. Paul gave his benediction to what must have seemed, by his time, a divinely ordained institution.
Gradually, through agriculture and slavery, through the division of labor and the inherent diversity of men, the comparative equality of natural society was replaced by inequality and class divisions. “In the primitive group we find as a rule no distinction between slave and free, no serfdom, no caste, and little if any distinction between chief and followers.”45 Slowly the increasing complexity of tools and trades subjected the unskilled or weak to the skilled or strong; every invention was a new weapon in the hands of the strong, and further strengthened them in their mastery and use of the weak.* Inheritance added superior opportunity to superior possessions, and stratified once homogeneous societies into a maze of classes and castes. Rich and poor became disruptively conscious of wealth and poverty; the class war began to run as a red thread through all history; and the state arose as an indispensable instrument for the regulation of classes, the protection of property, the waging of war, and the organization of peace.
CHAPTER III
The Political Elements of Civilization
I. THE ORIGINS OF GOVERNMENT
The unsocial instinct—Primitive anarchism—The clan and the tribe—The king—War
MAN is not willingly a political animal. The human male associates with his fellows less by desire than by habit, imitation, and the compulsion of circumstance; he does not love society so much as he fears solitude. He combines with other men because isolation endangers him, and because there are many things that can be done better together than alone; in his heart he is a solitary individual, pitted heroically against the world. If the average man had had his way there would probably never have been any state. Even today he resents it, classes death with taxes, and yearns for that government which governs least. If he asks for many laws it is only because he is sure that his neighbor needs them; privately he is an unphilosophical anarchist, and thinks laws in his own case superfluous.
In the simplest societies there is hardly any government. Primitive hunters tend to accept regulation only when they join the hunting pack and prepare for action. The Bushmen usually live in solitary families; the Pygmies of Africa and the simplest natives of Australia admit only temporarily of political organization, and then scatter away to their family groups; the Tasmanians had no chiefs, no laws, no regular government; the Veddahs of Ceylon formed small circles according to family relationship, but had no government; the Kubus of Sumatra “live without men in authority,” every family governing itself; the Fuegians are seldom more than twelve together; the Tungus associate sparingly in groups of ten tents or so; the Australian “horde” is seldom larger than sixty souls.1 In such cases association and cooperation are for special purposes, like hunting; they do not rise to any permanent political order.
The earliest form of continuous social organization was the clan—a group of related families occupying a common tract of land, having the same totem, and governed by the same customs or laws. When a group of clans united under the same chief the tribe was formed, and became the second step on the way to the state. But this was a slow development; many groups had no chiefs at all,2 and many more seem to have tolerated them only in time of war.3 Instead of democracy being a wilted feather in the cap of our own age, it appears at its best in several primitive groups where such government as exists is merely the rule of the family-heads of the clan, and no arbitrary authority is allowed.4 The Iroquois and Delaware Indians recognized no laws or restraints beyond the natural order of the family and the clan; their chiefs had modest powers, which might at any time be ended by the elders of the tribe. The Omaha Indians were ruled by a Council of Seven, who deliberated until they came to a unanimous agreement; add this to the famous League of the Iroquois, by which many tribes bound themselves—and honored their pledge—to keep the peace, and one sees no great gap between these “savages” and the modern states that bind themselves revocably to peace in the League of Nations.
It is war that makes the chief, the king and the state, just as it is these that make war. In Samoa the chief had power during war, but at other times no one paid much attention to him. The Dyaks had no other government than that of each family by its head; in case of strife they chose their bravest warrior to lead them, and obeyed him strictly; but once the conflict was ended they literally sent him about his business.5 In the intervals of peace it was the priest, or head magician, who had most authority and influence; and when at last a permanent kingship developed as the usual mode of government among a majority of tribes, it combined—and derived from—the offices of warrior, father and priest. Societies are ruled by two powers: in peace by the word, in crises by the sword; force is used only when indoctrination fails. Law and myth have gone hand in hand throughout the centuries, cooperating or taking turns in the management of mankind; until our own day no state dared separate them, and perhaps tomorrow they will be united again.
How did war lead to the state? It is not that men were naturally inclined to war. Some lowly peoples are quite peaceful; and the Eskimos could not understand why Europeans of the same pacific faith should hunt one another like seals and steal one another’s land. “How well it is”—they apostrophized their soil—“that you are covered with ice and snow! How well it is that if in your rocks there are gold and silver, for which the Christians are so greedy, it is covered with so much snow that they cannot get at it! Your unfruitfulness makes us happy, and saves us from molestation.”6 Nevertheless, primitive life was incarnadined with intermittent war. Hunters fought for happy hunting grounds still rich in prey, herders fought for new pastures for their flocks, tillers fought for virgin soil; all of them, at times, fought to avenge a murder, or to harden and discipline their youth, or to interrupt the monotony of life, or for simple plunder and rape; very rarely for religion. There were institutions and customs for the limitation of slaughter, as among ourselves—certain hours, days, weeks or months during which no gentleman savage would kill; certain functionaries who were inviolable, certain roads neutralized, certain markets and asylums set aside for peace; and the League of the Iroquois maintained the “Great Peace” for three hundred years.7 But for the most part war was the favorite instrument of natural selection among primitive nations and groups.
Its results were endless. It acted as a ruthless eliminator of weak peoples, and raised the level of the race in courage, violence, cruelty, intelligence and skill. It stimulated invention, made weapons that became useful tools, and arts of war that became arts of peace. (How many railroads today begin in strategy and end in trade!) Above all, war dissolved primitive communism and anarchism, introduced organization and discipline, and led to the enslavement of prisoners, the subordination of classes, and the growth of government. Property was the mother, war was the father, of the state.
II. THE STATE
As the organization of force—The village community—The psychological aides of the state
“A herd of blonde beasts of prey,” says Nietzsche, “a race of conquerors and masters, which with all its warlike organization and all its organizing power pounces with its terrible claws upon a population, in numbers possibly tremendously superior, but as yet formless, . . . such is the origin of the state.”8 “The state as distinct from tribal organization,” says Lester Ward, “begins with the conquest of one race by another.”9 “Everywhere,” says Oppenheimer, “we find some warlike tribe breaking through the boundaries of some less warlike people, settling down as nobility, and founding its state.”10 “Violence,” says Ratzenhofer, “is the agent which has created the state.”11 The state, says Gumplowicz, is the result of conquest, the establishment of the victors as a ruling caste over the vanquished.12 “The state,” says Sumner, “is the product of force, and exists by force.”13
This violent subjection is usually of a settled agricultural group by a tribe of hunters and herders.14 For agriculture teaches men pacific ways, inures them to a prosaic routine, and exhausts them with the long day’s toil; such men accumulate wealth, but they forget the arts and sentiments of war. The hunter and the herder, accustomed to danger and skilled in killing, look upon war as but another form of the chase, and hardly more perilous; when the woods cease to give them abundant game, or flocks decrease through a thinning pasture, they look with envy upon the ripe fields of the village, they invent with modern ease some plausible reason for attack, they invade, conquer, enslave and rule.*
The state is a late development, and hardly appears before the time of written history. For it presupposes a change in the very principle of social organization—from kinship to domination; and in primitive societies the former is the rule. Domination succeeds best where it binds diverse natural groups into an advantageous unity of order and trade. Even such conquest is seldom lasting except where the progress of invention has strengthened the strong by putting into their hands new tools and weapons for suppressing revolt. In permanent conquest the principle of domination tends to become concealed and almost unconscious; the French who rebelled in 1789 hardly realized, until Camille Desmoulins reminded them, that the aristocracy that had ruled them for a thousand years had come from Germany and had subjugated them by force. Time sanctifies everything; even the most arrant theft, in the hands of the robber’s grandchildren, becomes sacred and inviolable property. Every state begins in compulsion; but the habits of obedience become the content of conscience, and soon every citizen thrills with loyalty to the flag.
The citizen is right; for however the state begins, it soon becomes an indispensable prop to order. As trade unites clans and tribes, relations spring up that depend not on kinship but on contiguity, and therefore require an artificial principle of regulation. The village community may serve as an example: it displaced tribe and clan as the mode of local organization, and achieved a simple, almost democratic government of small areas through a concourse of family-heads; but the very existence and number of such communities created a need for some external force that could regulate their interrelations and weave them into a larger economic web. The state, ogre though it was in its origin, supplied this need; it became not merely an organized force, but an instrument for adjusting the interests of the thousand conflicting groups that constitute a complex society. It spread the tentacles of its power and law over wider and wider areas, and though it made external war more destructive than before, it extended and maintained internal peace; the state may be defined as internal peace for external war. Men decided that it was better to pay taxes than to fight among themselves; better to pay tribute to one magnificent robber than to bribe them all. What an interregnum meant to a society accustomed to government may be judged from the behavior of the Baganda, among whom, when the king died, every man had to arm himself; for the lawless ran riot, killing and plundering everywhere.15 “Without autocratic rule,” as Spencer said, “the evolution of society could not have commenced.”16
A state which should rely upon force alone would soon fall, for though men are naturally gullible they are also naturally obstinate, and power, like taxes, succeeds best when it is invisible and indirect. Hence the state, in order to maintain itself, used and forged many instruments of indoctrination—the family, the church, the school—to build in the soul of the citizen a habit of patriotic loyalty and pride. This saved a thousand policemen, and prepared the public mind for that docile coherence which is indispensable in war. Above all, the ruling minority sought more and more to transform its forcible mastery into a body of law which, while consolidating that mastery, would afford a welcome security and order to the people, and would recognize the rights of the “subject”* sufficiently to win his acceptance of the law and his adherence to the State.
III. LAW
Law-lessness—Law and custom—Revenge—Fines—Courts—Ordeal—The duel—Punishment—Primitive freedom
Law comes with property, marriage and government; the lowest societies manage to get along without it. “I have lived with communities of savages in South America and in the East,” said Alfred Russel Wallace, “who have no law or law-courts but the public opinion of the village freely expressed. Each man scrupulously respects the rights of his fellows, and any infraction of those rights rarely or never takes place. In such a community all are nearly equal.”17 Herman Melville writes similarly of the Marquesas Islanders: “During the time I have lived among the Typees no one was ever put upon his trial for any violence to the public. Everything went on in the valley with a harmony and smoothness unparalleled, I will venture to assert, in the most select, refined, and pious associations of mortals in Christendom.”18 The old Russian Government established courts of law in the Aleutian Islands, but in fifty years those courts found no employment. “Crime and offenses,” reports Brinton, “were so infrequent under the social system of the Iroquois that they can scarcely be said to have had a penal code.”19 Such are the ideal—perhaps the idealized—conditions for whose return the anarchist perennially pines.
Certain amendments must be made to these descriptions. Natural societies are comparatively free from law first because they are ruled by customs as rigid and inviolable as any law; and secondly because crimes of violence, in the beginning, are considered to be private matters, and are left to bloody personal revenge.
Underneath all the phenomena of society is the great terra firma of custom, that bedrock of time-hallowed modes of thought and action which provides a society with some measure of steadiness and order through all absence, changes, and interruptions of law. Custom gives the same stability to the group that heredity and instinct give to the species, and habit to the individual. It is the routine that keeps men sane; for if there were no grooves along which thought and action might move with unconscious ease, the mind would be perpetually hesitant, and would soon take refuge in lunacy. A law of economy works in instinct and habit, in custom and convention: the most convenient mode of response to repeated stimuli or traditional situations is automatic response. Thought and innovation are disturbances of regularity, and are tolerated only for indispensable readaptations, or promised gold.
When to this natural basis of custom a supernatural sanction is added by religion, and the ways of one’s ancestors are also the will of the gods, then custom becomes stronger than law, and subtracts substantially from primitive freedom. To violate law is to win the admiration of half the populace, who secretly envy anyone who can outwit this ancient enemy; to violate custom is to incur almost universal hostility. For custom rises out of the people, whereas law is forced upon them from above; law is usually a decree of the master, but custom is the natural selection of those modes of action that have been found most convenient in the experience of the group. Law partly replaces custom when the state replaces the natural order of the family, the clan, the tribe, and the village community; it more fully replaces custom when writing appears, and laws graduate from a code carried down in the memory of elders and priests into a system of legislation proclaimed in written tables. But the replacement is never complete; in the determination and judgment of human conduct custom remains to the end the force behind the law, the power behind the throne, the last “magistrate of men’s lives.”
The first stage in the evolution of law is personal revenge. “Vengeance is mine,” says the primitive individual; “I will repay.” Among the Indian tribes of Lower California every man was his own policeman, and administered justice in the form of such vengeance as he was strong enough to take. So in many early societies the murder of A by B led to the murder of B by A’s son or friend C, the murder of C by B’s son or friend D, and so on perhaps to the end of the alphabet; we may find examples among the purest-blooded American families of today. This principle of revenge persists throughout the history of law: it appears in the Lex Talionis*—or Law of Retaliation—embodied in Roman Law; it plays a large rôle in the Code of Hammurabi, and in the “Mosaic” demand of “an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth”; and it lurks behind most legal punishments even in our day.
The second step toward law and civilization in the treatment of crime was the substitution of damages for revenge. Very often the chief, to maintain internal harmony, used his power or influence to have the revengeful family content itself with gold or goods instead of blood. Soon a regular tariff arose, determining how much must be paid for an eye, a tooth, an arm, or a life; Hammurabi legislated extensively in such terms. The Abyssinians were so meticulous in this regard that when a boy fell from a tree upon his companion and killed him, the judges decided that the bereaved mother should send another of her sons into the tree to fall upon the culprit’s neck.20 The penalties assessed in cases of composition might vary with the sex, age and rank of the offender and the injured; among the Fijians, for example, petty larceny by a common man was considered a more heinous crime than murder by a chief.21 Throughout the history of law the magnitude of the crime has been lessened by the magnitude of the criminal.* Since these fines or compositions, paid to avert revenge, required some adjudication of offenses and damages, a third step towards law was taken by the formation of courts; the chief or the elders or the priests sat in judgment to settle the conflicts of their people. Such courts were not always judgment seats; often they were boards of voluntary conciliation, which arranged some amicable settlement of the dispute.† For many centuries, and among many peoples, resort to courts remained optional; and where the offended party was dissatisfied with the judgment rendered, he was still free to seek personal revenge.22
In many cases disputes were settled by a public contest between the parties, varying in bloodiness from a harmless boxing-match—as among the wise Eskimos—to a duel to the death. Frequently the primitive mind resorted to an ordeal not so much on the medieval theory that a deity would reveal the culprit as in the hope that the ordeal, however unjust, would end a feud that might otherwise embroil the tribe for generations. Sometimes accuser and accused were asked to choose between two bowls of food of which one was poisoned; the wrong party might be poisoned (usually not beyond redemption), but then the dispute was ended, since both parties ordinarily believed in the righteousness of the ordeal. Among some tribes it was the custom for a native who acknowledged his guilt to hold out his leg and permit the injured party to pierce it with a spear. Or the accused submitted to having spears thrown at him by his accusers; if they all missed him he was declared innocent; if he was hit, even by one, he was adjudged guilty, and the affair was closed.23 From such early forms the ordeal persisted through the laws of Moses and Hammurabi and down into the Middle Ages; the duel, which is one form of the ordeal, and which historians thought dead, is being revived in our own day. So brief and narrow, in some respects, is the span between primitive and modern man; so short is the history of civilization.
The fourth advance in the growth of law was the assumption, by the chief or the state, of the obligation to prevent and punish wrongs. It is but a step from settling disputes and punishing offenses to making some effort to prevent them. So the chief becomes not merely a judge but a lawgiver; and to the general body of “common law” derived from the customs of the group is added a body of “positive law,” derived from the decrees of the government; in the one case the laws grow up, in the other they are handed down. In either case the laws carry with them the mark of their ancestry, and reek with the vengeance which they tried to replace. Primitive punishments are cruel,24 because primitive society feels insecure; as social organization becomes more stable, punishments become less severe.
In general the individual has fewer “rights” in natural society than under civilization. Everywhere man is born in chains: the chains of heredity, of environment, of custom, and of law. The primitive individual moves always within a web of regulations incredibly stringent and detailed; a thousand tabus restrict his action, a thousand terrors limit his will. The natives of New Zealand were apparently without laws, but in actual fact rigid custom ruled every aspect of their lives. Unchangeable and unquestionable conventions determined the sitting and the rising, the standing and the walking, the eating, drinking and sleeping of the natives of Bengal. The individual was hardly recognized as a separate entity in natural society; what existed was the family and the clan, the tribe and the village community; it was these that owned land and exercised power. Only with the coming of private property, which gave him economic authority, and of the state, which gave him a legal status and defined rights, did the individual begin to stand out as a distinct reality.25 Rights do not come to us from nature, which knows no rights except cunning and strength; they are privileges assured to individuals by the community as advantageous to the common good. Liberty is a luxury of security; the free individual is a product and a mark of civilization.
IV. THE FAMILY
Its function in civilization—The clan vs. the family—Growth of parental care—Unimportance of the father—Separation of the sexes—Mother-right—Status of woman—Her occupations—Her economic achievements—The patriarchate—The subjection of woman
As the basic needs of man are hunger and love, so the fundamental functions of social organization are economic provision and biological maintenance; a stream of children is as vital as a continuity of food. To institutions which seek material welfare and political order, society always adds institutions for the perpetuation of the race. Until the state—towards the dawn of the historic civilizations—becomes the central and permanent source of social order, the clan undertakes the delicate task of regulating the relations between the sexes and between the generations; and even after the state has been established, the essential government of mankind remains in that most deep-rooted of all historic institutions, the family.
It is highly improbable that the first human beings lived in isolated families, even in the hunting stage; for the inferiority of man in physiological organs of defense would have left such families a prey to marauding beasts. Usually, in nature, those organisms that are poorly equipped for individual defense live in groups, and find in united action a means of survival in a world bristling with tusks and claws and impenetrable hides. Presumably it was so with man; he saved himself by solidarity in the hunting-pack and the clan. When economic relations and political mastery replaced kinship as the principle of social organization, the clan lost its position as the substructure of society; at the bottom it was supplanted by the family, at the top it was superseded by the state. Government took over the problem of maintaining order, while the family assumed the tasks of reorganizing industry and carrying on the race.
Among the lower animals there is no care of progeny; consequently eggs are spawned in great number, and some survive and develop while the great majority are eaten or destroyed. Most fish lay a million eggs per year; a few species of fish show a modest solicitude for their offspring, and find half a hundred eggs per year sufficient for their purposes. Birds care better for their young, and hatch from five to twelve eggs yearly; mammals, whose very name suggests parental care, master the earth with an average of three young per female per year.26 Throughout the animal world fertility and destruction decrease as parental care increases; throughout the human world the birth rate and the death rate fall together as civilization rises. Better family care makes possible a longer adolescence, in which the young receive fuller training and development before they are flung upon their own resources; and the lowered birth rate releases human energy for other activities than reproduction.
Since it was the mother who fulfilled most of the parental functions, the family was at first (so far as we can pierce the mists of history) organized on the assumption that the position of the man in the family was superficial and incidental, while that of the woman was fundamental and supreme. In some existing tribes, and probably in the earliest human groups the physiological rôle of the male in reproduction appears to have escaped notice quite as completely as among animals, who rut and mate and breed with happy unconsciousness of cause and effect. The Trobriand Islanders attribute pregnancy not to any commerce of the sexes, but to the entrance of a baloma, or ghost, into the woman. Usually the ghost enters while the woman is bathing; “a fish has bitten me,” the girl reports. “When,” says Malinowski, “I asked who was the father of an illegitimate child, there was only one answer—that there was no father, since the girl was unmarried. If, then, I asked, in quite plain terms, who was the physiological father, the question was not understood. . . . The answer would be: ‘It is a baloma who gave her this child.’” These islanders had a strange belief that the baloma would more readily enter a girl given to loose relations with men; nevertheless, in choosing precautions against pregnancy, the girls preferred to avoid bathing at high tide rather than to forego relations with men.27 It is a delightful story, which must have proved a great convenience in the embarrassing aftermath of generosity; it would be still more delightful if it had been invented for anthropologists as well as for husbands.
In Melanesia intercourse was recognized as the cause of pregnancy, but unmarried girls insisted on blaming some article in their diet.28 Even where the function of the male was understood, sex relationships were so irregular that it was never a simple matter to determine the father. Consequently the quite primitive mother seldom bothered to inquire into the paternity of her child; it belonged to her, and she belonged not to a husband but to her father—or her brother—and the clan; it was with these that she remained, and these were the only male relatives whom her child would know.29 The bonds of affection between brother and sister were usually stronger than between husband and wife. The husband, in many cases, remained in the family and clan of his mother, and saw his wife only as a clandestine visitor. Even in classical civilization the brother was dearer than the husband: it was her brother, not her husband, that the wife of Intaphernes saved from the wrath of Darius; it was for her brother, not for her husband, that Antigone sacrificed herself.30 “The notion that a man’s wife is the nearest person in the world to him is a relatively modern notion, and one which is restricted to a comparatively small part of the human race.”31
So slight is the relation between father and children in primitive society that in a great number of tribes the sexes live apart. In Australia and British New Guinea, in Africa and Micronesia, in Assam and Burma, among the Aleuts, Eskimos and Samoyeds, and here and there over the earth, tribes may still be found in which there is no visible family life; the men live apart from the women, and visit them only now and then; even the meals are taken separately. In northern Papua it is not considered right for a man to be seen associating socially with a woman, even if she is the mother of his children. In Tahiti “family life is quite unknown.” Out of this segregation of the sexes come those secret fraternities—usually of males—which appear everywhere among primitive races, and serve most often as a refuge against women.32 They resemble our modern fraternities in another point—their hierarchical organization.
The simplest form of the family, then, was the woman and her children, living with her mother or her brother in the clan; such an arrangement was a natural outgrowth of the animal family of the mother and her litter, and of the biological ignorance of primitive man. An alternative early form was “matrilocal marriage”: the husband left his clan and went to live with the clan and family of his wife, laboring for her or with her in the service of her parents. Descent, in such cases, was traced through the female line, and inheritance was through the mother; sometimes even the kingship passed down through her rather than through the male.33 This “mother-right” was not a “matriarchate”—it did not imply the rule of women over men.34 Even when property was transmitted through the woman she had little power over it; she was used as a means of tracing relationships which, through primitive laxity or freedom, were otherwise obscure.35 It-is true that in any system of society the woman exercises a certain authority, rising naturally out of her importance in the home, out of her function as the dispenser of food, and out of the need that the male has of her, and her power to refuse him. It is also true that there have been, occasionally, women rulers among some South African tribes; that in the Pelew Islands the chief did nothing of consequence without the advice of a council of elder women; that among the Iroquois the squaws had an equal right, with the men, of speaking and voting in the tribal council;36 and that among the Seneca Indians women held great power, even to the selection of the chief. But these are rare and exceptional cases. All in all the position of woman in early societies was one of subjection verging upon slavery. Her periodic disability, her unfamiliarity with weapons, the biological absorption of her strength in carrying, nursing and rearing children, handicapped her in the war of the sexes, and doomed her to a subordinate status in all but the very lowest and the very highest societies. Nor was her position necessarily to rise with the development of civilization; it was destined to be lower in Periclean Greece than among the North American Indians; it was to rise and fall with her strategic importance rather than with the culture and morals of men.
In the hunting stage she did almost all the work except the actual capture of the game. In return for exposing himself to the hardships and risks of the chase, the male rested magnificently for the greater part of the year. The woman bore her children abundantly, reared them, kept the hut or home in repair, gathered food in woods and fields, cooked, cleaned, and made the clothing and the boots.37 Because the men, when the tribe moved, had to be ready at any moment to fight off attack, they carried nothing but their weapons; the women carried all the rest. Bush-women were used as servants and beasts of burden; if they proved too weak to keep up with the march, they were abandoned.38 When the natives of the Lower Murray saw pack oxen they thought that these were the wives of the whites.39 The differences in strength which now divide the sexes hardly existed in those days, and are now environmental rather than innate: woman, apart from her biological disabilities, was almost the equal of man in stature, endurance, resourcefulness and courage; she was not yet an ornament, a thing of beauty, or a sexual toy; she was a robust animal, able to perform arduous work for long hours, and, if necessary, to fight to the death for her children or her clan. “Women,” said a chieftain of the Chippewas, “are created for work. One of them can draw or carry as much as two men. They also pitch our tents, make our clothes, mend them, and keep us warm at night. . . . We absolutely cannot get along without them on a journey. They do everything and cost only a little; for since they must be forever cooking, they can be satisfied in lean times by licking their fingers.”40
Most economic advances, in early society, were made by the woman rather than the man. While for centuries he clung to his ancient ways of hunting and herding, she developed agriculture near the camp, and those busy arts of the home which were to become the most important industries of later days. From the “wool-bearing tree,” as the Greeks called the cotton plant, the primitive woman rolled thread and made cotton cloth.41 It was she, apparently, who developed sewing, weaving, basketry, pottery, woodworking, and building; and in many cases it was she who carried on primitive trade.42 It was she who developed the home, slowly adding man to the list of her domesticated animals, and training him in those social dispositions and amenities which are the psychological basis and cement of civilization.
But as agriculture became more complex and brought larger rewards, the stronger sex took more and more of it into its own hands.43 The growth of cattle-breeding gave the man a new source of wealth, stability and power; even agriculture, which must have seemed so prosaic to the mighty Nimrods of antiquity, was at last accepted by the wandering male, and the economic leadership which tillage had for a time given to women was wrested from them by the men. The application to agriculture of those very animals that woman had first domesticated led to her replacement by the male in the control of the fields; the advance from the hoe to the plough put a premium upon physical strength, and enabled the man to assert his supremacy. The growth of transmissible property in cattle and in the products of the soil led to the sexual subordination of woman, for the male now demanded from her that fidelity which he thought would enable him to pass on his accumulations to children presumably his own. Gradually the man had his way: fatherhood became recognized, and property began to descend through the male; mother-right yielded to father-right; and the patriarchal family, with the oldest male at its head, became the economic, legal, political and moral unit of society. The gods, who had been mostly feminine, became great bearded patriarchs, with such harems as ambitious men dreamed of in their solitude.
This passage to the patriarchal—father-ruled—family was fatal to the position of woman. In all essential aspects she and her children became the property first of her father or oldest brother, then of her husband. She was bought in marriage precisely as a slave was bought in the market. She was bequeathed as property when her husband died; and in some places (New Guinea, the New Hebrides, the Solomon Islands, Fiji, India, etc.) she was strangled and buried with her dead husband, or was expected to commit suicide, in order to attend upon him in the other world.44 The father had now the right to treat, give, sell or lend his wives and daughters very much as he pleased, subject only to the social condemnation of other fathers exercising the same rights. While the male reserved the privilege of extending his sexual favors beyond his home, the woman—under patriarchal institutions—was vowed to complete chastity before marriage, and complete fidelity after it. The double standard was born.
The general subjection of woman which had existed in the hunting stage, and had persisted, in diminished form, through the period of mother-right, became now more pronounced and merciless than before. In ancient Russia, on the marriage of a daughter, the father struck her gently with a whip, and then presented the whip to the bridegroom.45 as a sign that her beatings were now to come from a rejuvenated hand. Even the American Indians, among whom mother-right survived indefinitely, treated their women harshly, consigned to them all drudgery, and often called them dogs.46 Everywhere the life of a woman was considered cheaper than that of a man; and when girls were born there was none of the rejoicing that marked the coming of a male. Mothers sometimes destroyed their female children to keep them from misery. In Fiji wives might be sold at pleasure, and the usual price was a musket.47 Among some tribes man and wife did not sleep together, lest the breath of the woman should enfeeble the man; in Fiji it was not thought proper for a man to sleep regularly at home; in New Caledonia the wife slept in a shed, while the man slept in the house. In Fiji dogs were allowed in some of the temples, but women were excluded from all;48 such exclusion of women from religious services survives in Islam to this day. Doubtless woman enjoyed at all times the mastery that comes of long-continued speech; the men might be rebuffed, harangued, even—now and then—beaten.49 But all in all the man was lord, the woman was servant. The Kaffir bought women like slaves, as a form of life-income insurance; when he had a sufficient number of wives he could rest for the remainder of his days; they would do all the work for him. Some tribes of ancient India reckoned the women of a family as part of the property inheritance, along with the domestic animals;50 nor did the last commandment of Moses distinguish very clearly in this matter. Throughout negro Africa women hardly differed from slaves, except that they were expected to provide sexual as well as economic satisfaction. Marriage began as a form of the law of property, as a part of the institution of slavery.51
CHAPTER IV
The Moral Elements of Civilization
SINCE no society can exist without order, and no order without regulation, we may take it as a rule of history that the power of custom varies inversely as the multiplicity of laws, much as the power of instinct varies inversely as the multiplicity of thoughts. Some rules are necessary for the game of life; they may differ in different groups, but within the group they must be essentially the same. These rules may be conventions, customs, morals, or laws. Conventions are forms of behavior found expedient by a people; customs are conventions accepted by successive generations, after natural selection through trial and error and elimination; morals are such customs as the group considers vital to its welfare and development. In primitive societies, where there is no written law, these vital customs or morals regulate every sphere of human existence, and give stability and continuity to the social order. Through the slow magic of time such customs, by long repetition, become a second nature in the individual; if he violates them he feels a certain fear, discomfort or shame; this is the origin of that conscience, or moral sense, which Darwin chose as the most impressive distinction between animals and men.1 In its higher development conscience is social consciousness—the feeling of the individual that he belongs to a group, and owes it some measure of loyalty and consideration. Morality is the cooperation of the part with the whole, and of each group with some larger whole. Civilization, of course, would be impossible without it.
I. MARRIAGE
The meaning of marriage—Its biological origins—Sexual communism—Trial marriage—Group marriage—Individual marriage—Polygamy—Its eugenic value—Exogamy—Marriage by service—By capture—By purchase—Primitive love—The economic function of marriage
The first task of those customs that constitute the moral code of a group is to regulate the relations of the sexes, for these are a perennial source of discord, violence, and possible degeneration. The basic form of this sexual regulation is marriage, which may be defined as the association of mates for the care of offspring. It is a variable and fluctuating institution, which has passed through almost every conceivable form and experiment in the course of its history, from the primitive care of offspring without the association of mates to the modern association of mates without the care of offspring.
Our animal forefathers invented it. Some birds seem to live as reproducing mates in a divorceless monogamy. Among gorillas and orangutans the association of the parents continues to the end of the breeding season, and has many human features. Any approach to loose behavior on the part of the female is severely punished by the male.2 The orangs of Borneo, says De Crespigny, “live in families: the male, the female, and a young one”; and Dr. Savage reports of the gorillas that “it is not unusual to see the ‘old folks’ sitting under a tree regaling themselves with fruit and friendly chat, while their children are leaping around them and swinging from branch to branch in boisterous merriment.”3 Marriage is older than man.
Societies without marriage are rare, but the sedulous inquirer can find enough of them to form a respectable transition from the promiscuity of the lower mammals to the marriages of primitive men. In Futuna and Hawaii the majority of the people did not marry at all;4 the Lubus mated freely and indiscriminately, and had no conception of marriage; certain tribes of Borneo lived in marriageless association, freer than the birds; and among some peoples of primitive Russia “the men utilized the women without distinction, so that no woman had her appointed husband.” African pygmies have been described as having no marriage institutions, but as following “their animal instincts wholly without restraint.”5 This primitive “nationalization of women,” corresponding to primitive communism in land and food, passed away at so early a stage that few traces of it remain. Some memory of it, however, lingered on in divers forms: in the feeling of many nature peoples that monogamy—which they would define as the monopoly of a woman by one man—is unnatural and immoral;6 in periodic festivals of license (still surviving faintly in our Mardi Gras), when sexual restraints were temporarily abandoned; in the demand that a woman should give herself—as at the Temple of Mylitta in Babylon—to any man that solicited her, before she would be allowed to marry;* in the custom of wife-lending, so essential to many primitive codes of hospitality; and in the jus primœ noctis, or right of the first night, by which, in early feudal Europe, the lord of the manor, perhaps representing the ancient rights of the tribe, occasionally deflowered the bride before the bridegroom was allowed to consummate the marriage.6a
A variety of tentative unions gradually took the place of indiscriminate relations. Among the Orang Sakai of Malacca a girl remained for a time with each man of the tribe, passing from one to another until she had made the rounds; then she began again.7 Among the Yakuts of Siberia, the Botocudos of South Africa, the lower classes of Tibet, and many other peoples, marriage was quite experimental, and could be ended at the will of either party, with no reasons given or required. Among the Bushmen “any disagreement sufficed to end a union, and new connections could immediately be found for both.” Among the Damaras, according to Sir Francis Galton, “the spouse was changed almost weekly, and I seldom knew without inquiry who the pro tempore husband of each lady was at any particular time.” Among the Baila “women are bandied about from man to man, and of their own accord leave one husband for another. Young women scarcely out of their teens often have had four or five husbands, all still living.”8 The original word for marriage, in Hawaii, meant to try.9 Among the Tahitians, a century ago, unions were free and dissoluble at will, so long as there were no children; if a child came the parents might destroy it without social reproach, or the couple might rear the child and enter into a more permanent relation; the man pledged his support to the woman in return for the burden of parental care that she now assumed.10
Marco Polo writes of a Central Asiatic tribe, inhabiting Peyn (now Keriya) in the thirteenth century: “If a married man goes to a distance from home to be absent twenty days, his wife has a right, if she is so inclined, to take another husband; and the men, on the same principle, marry wherever they happen to reside.”11 So old are the latest innovations in marriage and morals.
Letourneau said of marriage that “every possible experiment compatible with the duration of savage or barbarian societies has been tried, or is still practised, amongst various races, without the least thought of the moral ideas generally prevailing in Europe.”12 In addition to experiments in permanence there were experiments in relationship. In a few cases we find “group marriage,” by which a number of men belonging to one group married collectively a number of women belonging to another group.13 In Tibet, for example, it was the custom for a group of brothers to marry a group of sisters, and for the two groups to practise sexual communism between them, each of the men cohabiting with each of the women.14 Caesar reported a similar custom in ancient Britain.15 Survivals of it appear in the “levirate,” a custom existing among the early Jews and other ancient peoples, by which a man was obligated to marry his brother’s widow;16 this was the rule that so irked Onan.
What was it that led men to replace the semi-promiscuity of primitive society with individual marriage? Since, in a great majority of nature peoples, there are few, if any, restraints on premarital relations, it is obvious that physical desire does not give rise to the institution of marriage. For marriage, with its restrictions and psychological irritations, could not possibly compete with sexual communism as a mode of satisfying the erotic propensities of men. Nor could the individual establishment offer at the outset any mode of rearing children that would be obviously superior to their rearing by the mother, her family, and the clan. Some powerful economic motives must have favored the evolution of marriage. In all probability (for again we must remind ourselves how little we really know of origins) these motives were connected with the rising institution of property.
Individual marriage came through the desire of the male to have cheap slaves, and to avoid bequeathing his property to other men’s children. Polygamy, or the marriage of one person to several mates, appears here and there in the form of polyandry—the marriage of one woman to several men—as among the Todas and some tribes of Tibet;17 the custom may still be found where males outnumber females considerably.18 But this custom soon falls prey to the conquering male, and polygamy has come to mean for us, usually, what would more strictly be called polygyny—the possession of several wives by one man. Medieval theologians thought that Mohammed had invented polygamy, but it antedated Islam by some years, being the prevailing mode of marriage in the primitive world.19 Many causes conspired to make it general. In early society, because of hunting and war, the life of the male is more violent and dangerous, and the death rate of men is higher, than that of women. The consequent excess of women compels a choice between polygamy and the barren celibacy of a minority of women; but such celibacy is intolerable to peoples who require a high birth rate to make up for a high death rate, and who therefore scorn the mateless and childless woman. Again, men like variety; as the Negroes of Angola expressed it, they were “not able to eat always of the same dish.” Also, men like youth in their mates, and women age rapidly in primitive communities. The women themselves often favored polygamy; it permitted them to nurse their children longer, and therefore to reduce the frequency of motherhood without interfering with the erotic and philoprogenitive inclinations of the male. Sometimes the first wife, burdened with toil, helped her husband to secure an additional wife, so that her burden might be shared, and additional children might raise the productive power and the wealth of the family.20 Children were economic assets, and men invested in wives in order to draw children from them like interest. In the patriarchal system wives and children were in effect the slaves of the man; the more a man had of them, the richer he was. The poor man practised monogamy, but he looked upon it as a shameful condition, from which some day he would rise to the respected position of a polygamous male.21
Doubtless polygamy was well adapted to the marital needs of a primitive society in which women outnumbered men. It had a eugenic value superior to that of contemporary monogamy; for whereas in modern society the most able and prudent men marry latest and have least children, under polygamy the most able men, presumably, secured the bests mates and had most children. Hence polygamy has survived among practically all nature peoples, even among the majority of civilized mankind; only in our day has it begun to die in the Orient. Certain conditions, however, militated against it. The decrease in danger and violence, consequent upon a settled agricultural life, brought the sexes towards an approximate numerical equality; and under these circumstances open polygamy, even in primitive societies, became the privilege of the prosperous minority.22 The mass of the people practised a monogamy tempered with adultery, while another minority, of willing or regretful celibates, balanced the polygamy of the rich. Jealousy in the male, and possessiveness in the female, entered into the situation more effectively as the sexes approximated in number; for where the strong could not have a multiplicity of wives except by taking the actual or potential wives of other men and by (in some cases) offending their own, polygamy became a difficult matter, which only the cleverest could manage. As property accumulated, and men were loath to scatter it in small bequests, it became desirable to differentiate wives into “chief wife” and concubines, so that only the children of the former should share the legacy; this remained the status of marriage in Asia until our own generation. Gradually the chief wife became the only wife, the concubines became kept women in secret and apart, or they disappeared; and as Christianity entered upon the scene, monogamy, in Europe, took the place of polygamy as the lawful and outward form of sexual association. But monogamy, like letters and the state, is artificial, and belongs to the history, not to the origins, of civilization.
Whatever form the union might take, marriage was obligatory among nearly all primitive peoples. The unmarried male had no standing in the community, or was considered only half a man.23 Exogamy, too, was compulsory: that is to say, a man was expected to secure his wife from another clan than his own. Whether this custom arose because the primitive mind suspected the evil effects of close inbreeding, or because such intergroup marriages created or cemented useful political alliances, promoted social organization, and lessened the danger of war, or because the capture of a wife from another tribe had become a fashionable mark of male maturity, or because familiarity breeds contempt and distance lends enchantment to the view—we do not know. In any case the restriction was well-nigh universal in early society; and though it was successfully violated by the Pharaohs, the Ptolemies and the Incas, who all favored the marriage of brother and sister, it survived into Roman and modern law and consciously or unconsciously moulds our behavior to this day.
How did the male secure his wife from another tribe? Where the matriarchal organization was strong he was often required to go and live with the clan of the girl whom he sought. As the patriarchal system developed, the suitor was allowed, after a term of service to the father, to take his bride back to his own clan; so Jacob served Laban for Leah and Rachel.24 Sometimes the suitor shortened the matter with plain, blunt force. It was an advantage as well as a distinction to have stolen a wife; not only would she be a cheap slave, but new slaves could be begotten of her, and these children would chain her to her slavery. Such marriage by capture, though not the rule, occurred sporadically in the primitive world. Among the North American Indians the women were included in the spoils of war, and this happened so frequently that in some tribes the husbands and their wives spoke mutually unintelligible languages. The Slavs of Russia and Serbia practised occasional marriage by capture until the last century.*25 Vestiges of it remain in the custom of simulating the capture of the bride by the groom in certain wedding ceremonies.27 All in all it was a logical aspect of the almost incessant war of the tribes, and a logical starting-point for that eternal war of the sexes whose only truces are brief nocturnes and dreamless sleep.
As wealth grew it became more convenient to offer the father a substantial present—or a sum of money—for his daughter, rather than serve for her in an alien clan, or risk the violence and feuds that might come of marriage by capture. Consequently marriage by purchase and parental arrangement was the rule in early societies.28 Transition forms occur; the Melanesians sometimes stole their wives, but made the theft legal by a later payment to her family. Among some natives of New Guinea the man abducted the girl, and then, while he and she were in hiding, commissioned his friends to bargain with her father over a purchase price.29 The ease with which moral indignation in these matters might be financially appeased is illuminating. A Maori mother, wailing loudly, bitterly cursed the youth who had eloped with her daughter, until he presented her with a blanket. “That was all I wanted,” she said; “I only wanted to get a blanket, and therefore made this noise.”30 Usually the bride cost more than a blanket: among the Hottentots her price was an ox or a cow; among the Croo three cows and a sheep; among the Kaffirs six to thirty head of cattle, depending upon the rank of the girl’s family; and among the Togos sixteen dollars cash and six dollars in goods.31
Marriage by purchase prevails throughout primitive Africa, and is still a normal institution in China and Japan; it flourished in ancient India and Judea, and in pre-Columbian Central America and Peru; instances of it occur in Europe today.32 It is a natural development of patriarchal institutions; the father owns the daughter, and may dispose of her, within broad limits, as he sees fit. The Orinoco Indians expressed the matter by saying that the suitor should pay the father for rearing the girl for his use.33 Sometimes the girl was exhibited to potential suitors in a bride-show; so among the Somalis the bride, richly caparisoned, was led about on horseback or on foot, in an atmosphere heavily perfumed to stir the suitors to a handsome price.34 There is no record of women objecting to marriage by purchase; on the contrary, they took keen pride in the sums paid for them, and scorned the woman who gave herself in marriage without a price;35 they believed that in a “love-match” the villainous male was getting too much for nothing.36 On the other hand, it was usual for the father to acknowledge the bridegroom’s payment with a return gift which, as time went on, approximated more and more in value to the sum offered for the bride.37 Rich fathers, anxious to smooth the way for their daughters, gradually enlarged these gifts until the institution of the dowry took form; and the purchase of the husband by the father replaced, or accompanied, the purchase of the wife by the suitor.38
In all these forms and varieties of marriage there is hardly a trace of romantic love. We find a few cases of love-marriages among the Papuans of New Guinea; among other primitive peoples we come upon instances of love (in the sense of mutual devotion rather than mutual need), but usually these attachments have nothing to do with marriage. In simple days men married for cheap labor, profitable parentage, and regular meals. “In Yariba,” says Lander, “marriage is celebrated by the natives as unconcernedly as possible; a man thinks as little of taking a wife as of cutting an ear of corn—affection is altogether out of the question.”39 Since premarital relations are abundant in primitive society, passion is not dammed up by denial, and seldom affects the choice of a wife. For the same reason—the absence of delay between desire and fulfilment—no time is given for that brooding introversion of frustrated, and therefore idealizing, passion which is usually the source of youthful romantic love. Such love is reserved for developed civilizations, in which morals have raised barriers against desire, and the growth of wealth has enabled some men to afford, and some women to provide, the luxuries and delicacies of romance; primitive peoples are too poor to be romantic. One rarely finds love poetry in their songs. When the missionaries translated the Bible into the language of the Algonquins they could discover no native equivalent for the word love. The Hottentots are described as “cold and indifferent to one another” in marriage. On the Gold Coast “not even the appearance of affection exists between husband and wife”; and it is the same in primitive Australia. “I asked Baba,” said Caillié, speaking of a Senegal Negro, “why he did not sometimes make merry with his wives. He replied that if he did he should not be able to manage them.” An Australian native, asked why he wished to marry, answered honestly that he wanted a wife to secure food, water and wood for him, and to carry his belongings on the march.40 The kiss, which seems so indispensable to America, is quite unknown to primitive peoples, or known only to be scorned.41
In general the “savage” takes his sex philosophically, with hardly more of metaphysical or theological misgiving than the animal; he does not brood over it, or fly into a passion with it; it is as much a matter of course with him as his food. He makes no pretense to idealistic motives. Marriage is never a sacrament with him, and seldom an affair of lavish ceremony; it is frankly a commercial transaction. It never occurs to him to be ashamed that he subordinates emotional to practical considerations in choosing his mate; he would rather be ashamed of the opposite, and would demand of us, if he were as immodest as we are, some explanation of our custom of binding a man and a woman together almost for life because sexual desire has chained them for a moment with its lightning. The primitive male looked upon marriage in terms not of sexual license but of economic cooperation. He expected the woman—and the woman expected herself—to be not so much gracious and beautiful (though he appreciated these qualities in her) as useful and industrious; she was to be an economic asset rather than a total loss; otherwise the matter-of-fact “savage” would never have thought of marriage at all. Marriage was a profitable partnership, not a private debauch; it was a way whereby a man and a woman, working together, might be more prosperous than if each worked alone. Wherever, in the history of civilization, woman has ceased to be an economic asset in marriage, marriage has decayed; and sometimes civilization has decayed with it.
II. SEXUAL MORALITY
Premarital relations—Prostitution—Chastity—Virginity—The double standard—Modesty—The relativity of morals—The biological rôle of modesty—Adultery—Divorce—Abortion—Infanticide—Childhood—The individual
The greatest task of morals is always sexual regulation; for the reproductive instinct creates problems not only within marriage, but before and after it, and threatens at any moment to disturb social order with its persistence, its intensity, its scorn of law, and its perversions. The first problem concerns premarital relations—shall they be restricted, or free? Even among animals sex is not quite unrestrained; the rejection of the male by the female except in periods of rut reduces sex to a much more modest rôle in the animal world than it occupies in our own lecherous species. As Beaumarchais put it, man differs from the animal in eating without being hungry, drinking without being thirsty, and making love at all seasons. Among primitive peoples we find some analogue, or converse, of animal restrictions, in the tabu placed upon relations with a woman in her menstrual period. With this general exception premarital intercourse is left for the most part free in the simplest societies. Among the North American Indians the young men and women mated freely; and these relations were not held an impediment to marriage. Among the Papuans of New Guinea sex life began at an extremely early age, and premarital promiscuity was the rule.43 Similar premarital liberty obtained among the Soyots of Siberia, the Igorots of the Philippines, the natives of Upper Burma, the Kaffirs and Bushmen of Africa, the tribes of the Niger and the Uganda, of New Georgia, the Murray Islands, the Andaman Islands, Tahiti, Polynesia, Assam, etc.44
Under such conditions we must not expect to find much prostitution in primitive society. The “oldest profession” is comparatively young; it arises only with civilization, with the appearance of property and the disappearance of premarital freedom. Here and there we find girls selling themselves for a while to raise a dowry, or to provide funds for the temples; but this occurs only where the local moral code approves of it as a pious sacrifice to help thrifty parents or hungry gods.45
Chastity is a correspondingly late development. What the primitive maiden dreaded was not the loss of virginity, but a reputation for sterility;46 premarital pregnancy was, more often than not, an aid rather than a handicap in finding a husband, for it settled all doubts of sterility, and promised profitable children. The simpler tribes, before the coming of property, seem to have held virginity in contempt, as indicating unpopularity. The Kamchadal bridegroom who found his bride to be a virgin was much put out, and “roundly abused her mother for the negligent way in which she had brought up her daughter.”47 In many places virginity was considered a barrier to marriage, because it laid upon the husband the unpleasant task of violating the tabu that forbade him to shed the blood of any member of his tribe. Sometimes girls offered themselves to a stranger in order to break this tabu against their marriage. In Tibet mothers anxiously sought men who would deflower their daughters; in Malabar the girls themselves begged the services of passers-by to the same end, “for while they were virgins they could not find a husband.” In some tribes the bride was obliged to give herself to the wedding guests before going in to her husband; in others the bridegroom hired a man to end the virginity of his bride; among certain Philippine tribes a special official was appointed, at a high salary, to perform this function for prospective husbands.48
What was it that changed virginity from a fault into a virtue, and made it an element in the moral codes of all the higher civilizations? Doubtless it was the institution of property. Premarital chastity came as an extension, to the daughters, of the proprietary feeling with which the patriarchal male looked upon his wife. The valuation of virginity rose when, under marriage by purchase, the virgin bride was found to bring a higher price than her weak sister; the virgin gave promise, by her past, of that marital fidelity which now seemed so precious to men beset by worry lest they should leave their property to surreptitious children.49
The men never thought of applying the same restrictions to themselves; no society in history has ever insisted on the premarital chastity of the male; no language has ever had a word for a virgin man.50 The aura of virginity was kept exclusively for daughters, and pressed upon them in a thousands ways. The Tuaregs punished the irregularity of a daughter or a sister with death; the Negroes of Nubia, Abyssinia, Somaliland, etc., practised upon their daughters the cruel art of infibulation—i.e., the attachment of a ring or lock to the genitals to prevent copulation; in Burma and Siam a similar practice survived to our own day.51 Forms of seclusion arose by which girls were kept from providing or receiving temptation. In New Britain the richer parents confined their daughters, through five dangerous years, in huts guarded by virtuous old crones; the girls were never allowed to come out, and only their relatives could see them. Some tribes in Borneo kept their unmarried girls in solitary confinement.52 From these primitive customs to the purdah of the Moslems and the Hindus is but a step, and indicates again how nearly “civilization” touches “savagery.”
Modesty came with virginity and the patriarchate. There are many tribes which to this day show no shame in exposing the body;52a indeed, some are ashamed to wear clothing. All Africa rocked with laughter when Livingstone begged his black hosts to put on some clothing before the arrival of his wife. The Queen of the Balonda was quite naked when she held court for Livingstone.53 A small minority of tribes practise sex relations publicly, without any thought of shame.54 At first modesty is the feeling of the woman that she is tabu in her periods. When marriage by purchase takes form, and virginity in the daughter brings a profit to her father, seclusion and the compulsion to virginity beget in the girl a sense of obligation to chastity. Again, modesty is the feeling of the wife who, under purchase marriage, feels a financial obligation to her husband to refrain from such external sexual relations as cannot bring him any recompense. Clothing appears at this point, if motives of adornment and protection have not already engendered it; in many tribes women wore clothing only after marriage,55 as a sign of their exclusive possession by a husband, and as a deterrent to gallantry; primitive man did not agree with the author of Penguin Isle that clothing encouraged lechery. Chastity, however, bears no necessary relation to clothing; some travelers report that morals in Africa vary inversely as the amount of dress.56 It is clear that what men are ashamed of depends entirely upon the local tabus and customs of their group. Until recently a Chinese woman was ashamed to show her foot, an Arab woman her face, a Tuareg woman her mouth; but the women of ancient Egypt, of nineteenth-century India and of twentieth-century Bali (before prurient tourists came) never thought of shame at the exposure of their breasts.
We must not conclude that morals are worthless because they differ according to time and place, and that it would be wise to show our historic learning by at once discarding the moral customs of our group. A little anthropology is a dangerous thing. It is substantially true that—as Anatole France ironically expressed the matter—“morality is the sum of the prejudices of a community”;57 and that, as Anacharsis put it among the Greeks, if one were to bring together all customs considered sacred by some group, and were then to take away all customs considered immoral by some group, nothing would remain. But this does not prove the worthlessness of morals; it only shows in what varied ways social order has been preserved. Social order is none the less necessary; the game must still have rules in order to be played; men must know what to expect of one another in the ordinary circumstances of life. Hence the unanimity with which the members of a society practise its moral code is quite as important as the contents of that code. Our heroic rejection of the customs and morals of our tribe, upon our adolescent discovery of their relativity, betrays the immaturity of our minds; given another decade and we begin to understand that there may be more wisdom in the moral code of the group—the formulated experience of generations of the race—than can be explained in a college course. Sooner or later the disturbing realization comes to us that even that which we cannot understand may be true. The institutions, conventions, customs and laws that make up the complex structure of a society are the work of a hundred centuries and a billion minds; and one mind must not expect to comprehend them in one lifetime, much less in twenty years. We are warranted in concluding that morals are relative, and indispensable.
Since old and basic customs represent a natural selection of group ways after centuries of trial and error, we must expect to find some social utility, or survival value, in virginity and modesty, despite their historical relativity, their association with marriage by purchase, and their contributions to neurosis. Modesty was a strategic retreat which enabled the girl, where she had any choice, to select her mate more deliberately, or compel him to show finer qualities before winning her; and the very obstructions it raised against desire generated those sentiments of romantic love which heightened her value in his eyes. The inculcation of virginity destroyed the naturalness and ease of primitive sexual life; but, by discouraging early sex development and premature motherhood, it lessened the gap—which tends to widen disruptively as civilization develops—between economic and sexual maturity. Probably it served in this way to strengthen the individual physically and mentally, to lengthen adolescence and training, and so to lift the level of the race.
As the institution of property developed, adultery graduated from a venial into a mortal sin. Half of the primitive peoples known to us attach no great importance to it.58 The rise of property not only led to the exaction of complete fidelity from the woman, but generated in the male a proprietary attitude towards her; even when he lent her to a guest it was because she belonged to him in body and soul. Suttee was the completion of this conception; the woman must go down into the master’s grave along with his other belongings. Under the patriarchate adultery was classed with theft;59 it was, so to speak, an infringement of patent. Punishment for it varied through all degrees of severity from the indifference of the simpler tribes to the disembowelment of adulteresses among certain California Indians.60 After centuries of punishment the new virtue of wifely fidelity was firmly established, and had generated an appropriate conscience in the feminine heart. Many Indian tribes surprised their conquerors by the unapproachable virtue of their squaws; and certain male travelers have hoped that the women of Europe and America might some day equal in marital faithfulness the wives of the Zulus and the Papuans.61
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