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THE PRINCIPLES OF
SOCIOLOGY
BY
HERBERT SPENCER
IN THREE VOLUMES
VOL. II
MICROFORMED BY
PRESERV/YTIGN
SERVICES
DATE SEP 14 1990
NEW YORK
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1897
Authorized Edition.
PREFACE TO PART IV;
OF the chapters herewith published, constituting Part
I Y of The Principles of Sociology, seven have already seen
the light: not, however, all of them in England. For rea
sons which need not be specified, it happened that the chap
ter on Titles was not, like those preceding it, published in
the Fortnightly Review at the same time that it was pub
lished in periodicals in America, France, Germany, Italy,
Hungary, and Russia; and it is therefore new to English
readers. Five other chapters, namely V, IX, X, XI, and
XII, have not hitherto appeared either at home or abroad.
For deciding to issue by itself, this and each succeeding
division of Vol. II of the Principles of Sociology, I have
found several reasons. One is that each division, though
related to the rest, nevertheless forms a whole so far dis
tinct, that it may be fairly well understood without the rest.
Another is that large volumes (and Vol. II threatens to
exceed in bulk Vol. I) are alarming; and that many who
are deterred by their size from reading them, will not fear
to undertake separately the parts of which they are com
posed. A third and chief reason is that postponement of
issue until completion of the entire volume, necessitates an
undesirable delay in the issue of its earlier divisions: sub
stantially-independent works being thus kept in manuscript
much longer than need be.
The contents of this Part are not, indeed, of such kind
as to make me anxious that publication of it as a whole
should be immediate. But the contents of the next Part,
* The two parts of which this volume consists having been separately pub
lished, each with its preface, it seems most convenient here simply to repro
duce the two prefaces in place of a fresh one for the entire volume.
vl PREFACE.
treating of Political Institutions, will, I think, be of some
importance; and I should regret having to keep it in my
portfolio for a year, or perhaps two years, until Parts VI,
VII, and VIII, included in the second volume, were writ
ten. [Inclusion of these proves impracticable.]
On sundry of the following chapters when published in
the Fortnightly Review, a criticism passed by friends was
that they were overweighted by illustrative facts. I am
conscious that there were grounds for this criticism; and
although I have, in the course of a careful revision, dimin
ished in many cases the amount of evidence given (adding
to it, however, in other cases) the defect may still be alleged.
That with a view to improved effect I have not suppressed a
larger number of illustrations, is due to the consideration
that scientific proof, rather than artistic merit, is the end to
be here achieved. If sociological generalizations are to pass
out of the stage of opinion into the stage of established
truth, it can only be through extensive accumulations of
instances: the inductions must be wide if the conclusions
are to be accepted as valid. Especially while there contin
ues the belief that social phenomena are not the subject-mat
ter of a Science, it is requisite that the correlations among
them should be shown to hold in multitudinous cases. Evi
dence furnished by various races in various parts of the
world, must be given before there can be rebutted the alle
gation that the inferences drawn are not true, or are but
partially true. Indeed, of social phenomena more than all
other phenomena, it must, because of their complexity, hold
that only by comparisons of many examples can fundamen
tal relations be distinguished from superficial relations.
In pursuance of an intention intimated in the preface to
the first volume, I have here adopted a method of reference
to authorities cited, which gives the reader the opportunity
of consulting them if he wishes, though his attention to
them is not solicited. At the end of the volume will be
found the needful clues to the passages extracted; pre-
PREFACE.
ceded by an explanatory note. Usually, though not uni
formly, references have been given in those cases only
where actual quotations are made.
London, November, 1879.
PREFACE TO PART V.
THE division of the Principles of Sociology herewith is
sued, deals with phenomena of Evolution which are, above
all others, obscure and entangled. To discover what truths
may be affirmed of political organizations at large, is a task
beset by difficulties that are at once many and great — diffi
culties arising from un likenesses of the various human
races, from differences among the modes of life entailed by
circumstances on the societies formed of them, from the nu
merous contrasts of sizes and degrees of culture exhibited by
such societies, from their perpetual interferences with one
another's processes of evolution by means of wars, and from
accompanying breakings-up and aggregations in ever-
changing ways.
Satisfactory achievement of this task would require the
labours of a life. Having been able to devote to it but two
years, I feel that the results set forth in this volume must
of necessity be full of imperfections. If it be asked why,
being thus conscious that far more time and wider inves
tigation are requisite for the proper treatment of a subject
so immense and involved, I have undertaken it, my reply
is that I have been obliged to deal with political evolution
as a part of the general Theory of Evolution ; and, with due
regard to the claims of other parts, could not make a more
prolonged preparation. Anyone who undertakes to trace
the general laws of transformation which hold throughout
all orders of phenomena, must have but an incomplete
PREFACE.
knowledge of each order; since, to acquaint himself ex
haustively with any one order, demanding, as it would, ex
clusive devotion of his days to it, would negative like devo
tion to any of the others, and much more would negative
generalization of the whole. Either generalization of the
whole ought never to be attempted, or, if it is attempted, it
must be by one. who gives to each part such time only as is
requisite to master the cardinal truths it presents. Believ
ing that generalization of the whole is supremely important,
and that no one part can be fully understood without it,
I have ventured to treat of Political Institutions after the
manner implied: utilizing, for the purpose, the materials
which, in the space of fourteen years, have been gathered
together in the Descriptive Sociology -, and joining with
them such further materials as, during the last two years,
have been accumulated by inquiries in other directions,
made personally and by proxy. If errors found in this vol
ume are such as invalidate any of its leading conclusions,
the fact will show the impolicy of the course I have pursued ;
but if, after removal of the errors, the leading conclusions
remain outstanding, this course will be justified.
Of the chapters forming this volume, the first seven
were originally published in the Fortnightly Review in
England; and, simultaneously, in monthly periodicals in
America, Erance, and Germany. Chapters VIII and IX
were thus published abroad but not at home. Chapters
XVII and XYIII appeared here in the Contemporary Re
view; and at the same time in the before-mentioned foreign
periodicals. The remaining chapters, X, XI, XII, XIII,
XI Y, XV, XYI, and XIX, now appear for the first time;
with the exception of chapter XI, which has already seen
the light in an Italian periodical — La Rivista di Filosofia
Scientific**.
London, March, 1882.
CONTENTS OF VOL. II.
PAKT IV.— CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
CHAP. PAGE
I. — CEREMONY IN GENERAL
II. TROPHIES ... ... ••• 36
III. MUTILATIONS ... ... ••• ••• 52
IV. PRESENTS ... 83
V. VISITS ... ... ... ... 108
VI. OBEISANCES ... ... ... ... H6
VII. — FORMS OF ADDRESS
VIII. TITLES ... ... ... ... ... 159
IX. BADGES AND COSTUMES ... ... 179
X. FURTHER CLASS-DISTINCTIONS ... ... 198
XI. — FASHION ... ... ... ... ... 210
XII. CEREMONIAL RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT ... 216
PART V.— POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
I. PRELIMINARY ... ... ... ... 229
II. — POLITICAL ORGANIZATION IN GENERAL ... 244
III. — POLITICAL INTEGRATION ... ... ... 265
IV. POLITICAL DIFFERENTIATION ... ... ... 288
V. — POLITICAL FORMS AND FORCES ... ... 311
VI. POLITICAL HEADS CHIEFS, KINGS, ETC. ... 331
VII. COMPOUND POLITICAL HEADS ... ... 366
VIII. — CONSULTATIVE BODIES ... ... ... 397
IX. REPRESENTATIVE BODIES ... ... ... 415
X. MINISTRIES ... ... ... ... 442
XI. LOCAL GOVERNING AGENCIES ... ... 451
XII. MILITARY SYSTEMS 473
X CONTENTS.
CHAP. PAGE
XIII. — JUDICIAL AND EXECUTIVE SYSTEMS ... ... 492
XIV. LAWS ... ... ... ... ... 513
XV. PROPERTY ... ... ... ,.. 538
XVI. REVENUE ... ... ... ... 557
XVII. THE MILITANT TYPE OF SOCIETY ... ... 568
XVIII. THE INDUSTRIAL TYPE OF SOCIETY ... ... 603
XIX. — POLITICAL RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT 643
PART IV.
CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
CHAPTEE L
CEREMONY IN GENERAL.
§ 343. If, disregarding conduct that is entirely private,
we consider only that species of conduct which involves
direct relations with other persons ; and if under the name
government we include all control of such conduct, however
arising ; then we must say that the earliest kind of govern
ment, the most general kind of government, and the govern
ment which is ever spontaneously recommencing, is the
government of ceremonial observance. More may be said.
This kind of government, besides preceding other kinds, and
besides having in all places and times approached nearer to
universality of influence, has ever had, and continues to
have, the largest share in regulating men's lives.
Proof that the modifications of conduct called " man
ners " and " behaviour," arise before those which political
and religious restraints cause, is yielded by the fact that, be
sides preceding social evolution, they precede human evolu
tion : they are traceable among the higher animals. The dog
afraid of being beaten, comes crawling up to his master;
clearly manifesting the desire to show submission. Nor is
it solely to human beings that dogs use such propitiatory ac
tions. They do the like one to another. All have occasion
ally seen how, on the approach of some formidable New
foundland or mastiff, a small spaniel, in the extremity of its
terror, throws itself on its back with legs in the air. Instead
of threatening resistance by growls and showing of teeth, as
it might have done had not resistance been hopeless, it spon-
3
4. CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
taneously assumes the attitude that would result from defeat
in battle; tacitly saying — " I am conquered, and at your
mercy.'7 Clearly then, besides certain modes of behaviour
expressing affection, which are established still earlier in
creatures lower than man, there are established certain
modes of behaviour expressing subjection.
After recognizing this fact, we shall be prepared to
recognize the fact that daily intercourse among the lowest
savages, whose small loose groups, scarcely to be called
social, are without political or religious regulation, is under
a considerable amount of ceremonial regulation. No rul
ing agency beyond that arising from personal superiority,
characterizes a horde of Australians ; but every such horde
has imperative observances. Strangers meeting must re
main some time silent; a mile from an encampment ap
proach has to be heralded by loud cooeys ; a green bough is
used as an emblem of peace; and brotherly feeling is indi
cated by exchange of names. Similarly the Tasmanians,
equally devoid of government save that implied by pre
dominance of a leader during war, had settled ways
of indicating peace and defiance. The Esquimaux,
too, though without social ranks or anything like
chieftainship, have understood usages for the treatment of
guests. Kindred evidence may be joined with this.
Ceremonial control is highly developed in many places
where other forms of control are but rudimentary. The
wild Comanche " exacts the observance of his rules of eti
quette from strangers/' and " is greatly offended " by any
breach of them. When Araucanians meet, the inquiries,
felicitations, and condolences which custom demands, are so
elaborate that " the formality occupies ten or fifteen min
utes.'7 Of the ungoverned Bedouins we read that " their
manners are sometimes dashed with a strange ceremonious-
ness; " and the salutations of Arabs are such that the
" compliments in a well-bred man never last less than ten
minutes." " We were particularly struck," says Living-
CEREMONY IN GENERAL. 5
stone, " with the punctiliousness of manners shown by the
Balonda." " The Malagasy have many different forms of
salutation, of which they make liberal use. . . . Hence in
their general intercourse there is much that is stiff, formal,
and precise.'7 A Samoan orator, when speaking in Parlia
ment, " is not contented with a mere word of salutation,
such as * gentlemen/ but he must, with great minuteness,
go over the names and titles, and a host of ancestral refer
ences, of which they are proud."
That ceremonial restraint, preceding other forms of re
straint, continues ever to be the most widely-diffused form of
restraint, we are shown by such facts as that in all inter
course between members of each society, the decisively gov
ernmental actions are usually prefaced by this government
of observances. The embassy may fail, negotiation may be
brought to a close by war, coercion of one society by another
may set up wider political rule with its peremptory com
mands ; but there is habitually this more general and vague
regulation of conduct preceding the more special and defi
nite. So within a community, acts of relatively stringent
control coming from ruling agencies, civil and religious, be
gin with and are qualified by, this ceremonial control; which
not only initiates but, in a sense, envelops all other. Func
tionaries, ecclesiastical and political, coercive as their pro
ceedings mav be, conform them in large measure to the re
quirements of courtesy. The priest, however, arrogant his
assumption, makes a civil salute; and the officer of the law
performs his duty subject to certain propitiatory words and
movements.
Yet another indication of primordialism may be named.
This species of control establishes itself anew with every
fresh relation among individuals. Even between intimates
greetings signifying continuance of respect, begin • each
renewal of intercourse. And in presence of a stranger, say
in a railway-carriage, a certain self-restraint, joined with
some small act like the offer of a newspaper, shows the spon-
59
6 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
taneous rise of a propitiatory behaviour such as even the
rudest of mankind are not without.
So that the modified forms of action caused in men by
the presence of their fellows, constitute that comparatively
vague control out of which other more definite controls are
evolved — the primitive undifFerentiated kind of govern
ment from which the political and religious governments
are differentiated, and in which they ever continue im
mersed.
§ 344. This proposition looks strange mainly because,
when studying less-advanced societies, we carry with us our
developed conceptions of law and religion. Swayed by
them, we fail to perceive that what we think the essential
parts of sacred and secular regulations were originally sub
ordinate parts, and that the essential parts consisted of cere
monial observances.
It is clear, d priori, that this -must be so if social phenom
ena are evolved. A political system or a settled cult, cannot
suddenly come into existence, but implies pre-established
subordination. Before there are laws, there must be sub
mission to some potentate enacting and enforcing them.
Before religious obligations are recognized, there must be
acknowledged one or more supernatural powers. Evident
ly, then, the behaviour expressing obedience to a ruler, visi
ble or invisible, must precede in time the civil or religious
restraints he imposes. And this inferable precedence of
ceremonial government is a precedence we everywhere
find.
How, in the political sphere, fulfilment of forms imply
ing subordination is the primary thing, early European his
tory shows us. During times when the question, who
should be master, was in course of settlement, now in small
areas and now in larger areas uniting them, there was scarce
ly any of the regulation which developed civil government
brings; but there was insistence on allegiance humbly ex-
CEREMONY IN GENERAL. 7
pressed. While each, man was left to guard himself, and
blood-feuds between families were unchecked by the central
power — while the right of private vengeance was so well
recognized that the Salic law made it penal to carry off ene
mies' heads from the stakes on which they were exhibited
near the dwellings of those who had killed them ; there was
a rigorous demanding of oaths of fidelity to political supe
riors and periodic manifestations of loyalty. Simple
homage, growing presently into liege homage, was paid by
smaller rulers to greater; and the vassal who, kneeling un-
girt and swordless before his suzerain, professed his subjec
tion and then entered on possession of his lands, was little
interfered with so long as he continued to display his vas
salage in court and in camp. Refusal to go through the re
quired observances was tantamount to rebellion; as at the
present time in China, where disregard of the forms of be
haviour prescribed towards each grade of officers, " is con
sidered to be nearly equivalent to a rejection of their author
ity." Among peoples in lower stages this connexion of so
cial traits is still better shown. The extreme ceremonious-
ness of the Tahitians, " appears to have accompanied them
to the temples, to have distinguished the homage and the
service they rendered to their gods, to have marked their
affairs of state, and the carriage of the people toward their
rulers, to have pervaded the whole of their social inter
course/' Meanwhile, they were destitute " of even oral
laws and institutes : " there was no public administration of
justice. Again, if any one in Tonga neglected the proper
salute in presence of a superior noble, some calamity from
the gods was expected as a punishment for the omission;
and Mariner's list of Tongan virtues commences with " pay
ing respect to the gods, nobles, and aged persons." When
to this we add his statement that many actions reprobated by
the Tongans are not thought intrinsically wrong, but are
wrong merely if done against gods or nobles, we get proof
that along with high development of ceremonial control,
8 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
the sentiments and ideas out of which civil government
comes were but feebly developed. Similarly in the ancient
American States. The laws of the Mexican king, Monte-
zuma I., mostly related to the intercourse of, and the dis
tinctions between, classes. In Peru, " the most common
punishment was death, for they said that a culprit was not
punished for the delinquencies he had committed, but for
having broken the commandment of the Ynca." There had
not been reached the stage in which the transgressions of
man against man are the wrongs to be redressed, and in
which there is consequently a proportioning of penalties to
injuries; but the real crime was insubordination: implying
that insistance on marks of subordination constituted the es
sential part of government. In Japan, so elaborately cere
monious in its life, the same theory led to the same result.
And here we are reminded that even in societies so advanced
as our own, there survive traces of a kindred early condition.
" Indictment for felony/' says Wharton, " is [for a trans
gression] against the peace of our lord the King, his crown
and dignity in general: " the injured individual being
ignored. Evidently obedience was the primary require
ment, and behaviour expressing it the first modification of
conduct insisted on.
Religious control, still better, perhaps, than political
control, shows this general truth. When we find that rites
performed at graves, becoming afterwards religious rites
performed at altars in temples, were at first acts done for
the benefit of the ghost, either as originally conceived or as
ideally expanded into a deity — when we find that the sacri
fices and libations, the immolations and blood-offerings and
mutilations, all begun to profit or to please the double of the
dead man, were continued on larger scales where the double
of the dead man was especially feared — when we find that
fasting as a funeral rite gave origin to religious fasting,
that praises of the deceased and prayers to him grew into re
ligious praises and prayers; we are shown why primitive
CEREMONY IN GENERAL. 9
religion consisted almost wholly of propitiatory observances.
Though in certain rude societies now existing, one of the
propitiations is the repetition of injunctions given by the
departed father or chief, joined in some cases with expres
sions of penitence for breach of them; and though we are
shown by this that from the outset there exists the germ out
of which grow the sanctified precepts eventually constitut
ing important adjuncts to religion; yet, since the supposed
supernatural beings are at first conceived as retaining after
death the desires and passions that distinguished them dur
ing life, this rudiment of a moral code is originally but an in
significant part of the cult : due rendering of those offerings
and praises and marks of subordination by which the
goodwill of the ghost or god is to be obtained, forming the
chief part. Everywhere proofs occur. "We read
of the Tahitians that " religious rites were connected with
almost every act of their lives; " and it is so with the unciv
ilized and semi-civilized in general. The Sandwich Island
ers, along with little of that ethical element which the con
ception of religion includes among ourselves, had a rigorous
and elaborate ceremonial. Noting that tabu means liter
ally, " sacred to the gods," I quote from Ellis the following
account of its observance in Hawaii: —
"During the season of strict tabu, every fire or light in the island
or district must be extinguished ; no canoe must be launched on the
water, no person must bathe ; and except those whose attendance was
required at the temple, no individual must be seen out of doors ; no
dog must bark, no pig must grunt, no cock must crow. ... On
these occasions they tied up the mouths of the dogs and pigs, and
put the fowls under a calabash, or fastened a piece of cloth over their
eyes."
And how completely the idea of transgression was associ
ated in the mind of the Sandwich Islander with breach of
ceremonial observance, is shown in the fact that " if any one
made a noise on a tabu clay ... he must die." Through
stages considerably advanced, religion continues to be thus
constituted. TV hen questioning the ISTicaraguans concern-
10 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
ing their creed, Oviedo, eliciting the fact that they confessed
their sins to an appointed old man, asks what sort of sins
they confessed; and the first clause of the answer is — " we
tell him when we have broken onr festivals and not kept
them.77 Similarly among the Peruvians, " the most nota
ble sin was neglect in the service of the huacas " [spirits,
&c.] ; and a large part of life was spent by them in pro
pitiating the apotheosized dead. How elaborate the observ
ances, how frequent the festivals, how lavish the expendi
ture, by which the ancient Egyptians sought the goodwill of
supernatural beings, the records everywhere prove; and
that with them religious duty consisted in thus ministering
to the desires of ancestral ghosts, deified in various degrees,
is shown by the before-quoted prayer of Rameses to his
father Ammon, in which he claims his help in battle because
of the many bulls he has sacrificed to him. With the He
brews in pre-Mosaic times it was the same. As Kuenen re
marks, the " great work and enduring merit " of Moses, was
that he gave dominance to the moral element in religion.
In his reformed creed, " Jahveh is distinguished from the
rest of the gods in this, that he will be served, not merely by
sacrifices and feasts, but also, nay, in the first place, by the
observance of the moral commandments." That the piety of
the Greeks included diligent performance of rites at tombs,
and that the Greek god was especially angered by non-ob
servance of propitiatory ceremonies, are familiar facts; and
credit with a god was claimed by the Trojan, as by the
Egyptian, not on account of rectitude, but on account of ob
lations made; as is shown by Chryses' prayer to Apollo.
So too, Christianity, originally a renewed development of
the ethical element at the expense of the ceremonial element,
losing as it spread those early traits which distinguished it
from lower creeds, displayed in mediaeval Europe, a relative
ly large amount of ceremony and a relatively small amount
of morality. In the Rule of St. Benedict, nine chapters
concern the moral and general duties of the brothers, while
CEREMONY IN GENERAL. H
thirteen concern the religious ordinances. And how crimi
nality was ascribed to disregard of such ordinances, the
following passage from the Rule of St. Columbanus
shows : —
"A year's penance for him who loses a consecrated wafer; six
months for him who suffers it to be eaten by mites ; twenty days for
him who lets it turn red; forty days for him who contemptuously
flings it into water; twenty days for him who brings it up through
weakness of stomach ; but, if through illness, ten days. He who neg
lects his Amen to the Benedicite, who speaks when eating, who for
gets to make the sign of the cross on his spoon, or on a lantern lighted
by a younger brother, is to receive six or twelve stripes."
That from the times when men condoned crimes by building
chapels or going on pilgrimages, down to present times when
barons no longer invade one another's territories or torture
Jews, there has been a decrease of ceremony along with an
increase of morality, is clear; though if we look at unad-
vanced parts of Europe, such as Xaples or Sicily, we see
that even now observance of rites is in them a much larger
component of religion than obedience to moral rules. And
when WTC remember how modern is Protestantism, which,
less elaborate and imperative in its forms, does not habitu
ally compound for transgression by acts expressing subordi
nation, and how recent is the spread of dissenting Prot
estantism, in which this change is carried further, we are
shown that postponement of ceremony to morality charac
terizes religion only in its later stages.
Mark, then, what follows. If the two kinds of control
which eventually grow into civil and religious governments,
originally include scarcely anything beyond observance of
ceremonies, the precedence of ceremonial control over other
controls is a corollary.
§ 345. Divergent products of evolution betray their
kinship by severally retaining certain traits which belonged
to that from which they were evolved ; and the implication
is that whatever traits they have in common, arose earlier in
12 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
time than did the traits which distinguish them from one
another. If fish, reptiles, birds, and mammals, all possess
vertebral columns, it follows, on the evolution-hypothesis,
that the vertebral column became part of the organization
at an earlier period than did the teeth in sockets and the
mammae which distinguish one of these groups, or than did
the toothless beak and the feathers which distinguish an
other of these groups; and so on. Applying this principle
in the present case, it is inferable that if the controls classed
as civil, religious, and social, have certain common charac
ters, such characters, older than are these now differentiated
controls, must have belonged to the primitive control out of
which they developed. Ceremonies, then, have the highest
antiquity; for these differentiated controls all exhibit them.
There is the making of presents: this is one of the acts
showing subordination to a ruler in early stages; it is a re
ligious rite, performed originally at the grave and later on
at the altar; and from the beginning it has been a means of
vertebral columns, it follows, on the evolution-hypothesis,
propitiation in social intercourse. There are the obei
sances: these, of their several kinds, serve to express rever
ence in its various degrees, to gods, to rulers, and to private
persons: here the prostration is habitually seen, now in the
temple, nowT before the monarch, now to a powerful man;
here there is genuflexion in presence of idols, rulers, and fel
low-subjects; here the salaam is more or less common to the
three cases; here uncovering of the head is a sign alike of
worship, of loyalty, and of respect ; and here the bow serves
the same three purposes. Similarly with titles: father is
a name of honour applied to a god, to a king, and to an hon
oured individual ; so too is lord ; so are sundry other names.
The same thing holds of humble speeches: professions of
inferiority and obedience on the part of the speaker, are
used to secure divine favour, the favour of a ruler, and the
favour of a private person. Once more, it is thus with
words of praise : telling a deity of his greatness constitutes a
CEREMONY IN GENERAL. 13
large element of worship; despotic monarchs are addressed
in terms of exaggerated eulogy; and where ceremony is
dominant in social intercourse, extravagant compliments are
addressed to private persons.
In many of the less advanced societies, and also in the
more advanced that have retained early types of organiza
tion, we find other examples of observances expressing sub
jection, which are common to the three kinds of control-
political, religious, and social. Among Malayo-Polynesians
the offering of the first fish and of first fruits, is a mark of
respect alike to gods and to chiefs; and the Fijians make
the same gifts to their gods as they do to their chiefs —
food, turtles, whale's-teeth. In Tonga, " if a great chief
takes an oath, he swears by the god; if an inferior chief
takes an oath, he swears by his superior relation, who, of
course, is a greater chief. " In Fiji, " all are careful not to
tread on the threshold of a place set apart for the gods:
persons of rank stride over; others pass over on their hands
and knees. The same form is observed in crossing the
threshold of a chief's house." In Siam, " at the full moon
of the fifth month the Talapoins [priests] wash the idol
with perfumed wTater. . . . The people also wash the
Sancrats and other Talapoins; and then in the families
children wash their parents." China affords good instances.
" At his accession, the Emperor kneels thrice and bows nine
times before the altar of his father, and goes through the
same ceremony before the throne on which is seated the Em
press Dowager. On his then ascending his throne, the
great officers, marshalled according to their ranks, kneel and
bow nine times." And the equally ceremonious Japanese
furnish kindred evidence. " From the Emperor to the low
est subject in the realm there is a constant succession of
prostrations. The former, in want of a human being supe
rior to himself in rank, bows humbly to some pagan idol;
and every one of his subjects, from prince to peasant, has
some person before whom he is bound to cringe and crouch
14 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
in the dirt: " religious, political, and social subordination
are expressed by the same form of behaviour.
These indications of a general truth which will be abun
dantly exemplified when discussing each kind of ceremonial
observance, I here give in brief, as further showing that the
control of ceremony precedes in order of evolution the civil
and religious controls, and must therefore be first dealt with.
§ 346. On passing to the less general aspects of ceremoni
al government, we are met by the question — How do there
arise those modifications of behaviour which constitute it?
Commonly it is assumed that they are consciously chosen
as symbolizing reverence or respect. After their usual man
ner of speculating about primitive practices, men read back
developed ideas into undeveloped minds. The supposition
is allied to that which originated the social-contract theory : a
kind of conception that has become familiar to the civilized
man, is assumed to have been familiar to man in his earliest
state. But just as little basis as there is for the belief that
savages deliberately made social contracts, is there for the
belief that they deliberately adopted symbols. The
error is best seen on turning to the most developed kind of
symbol ization — that of language. An Australian or a Fue-
gian does not sit down and knowingly coin a word ; but the
words he finds in use, and the new ones which come into use
during his life, grow up unawares by onomatopoeia, or by
vocal suggestions of qualities, or by metaphor which some
observable likeness suggests. Among civilized peoples,
however, who have learnt that words are symbolic, new
words are frequently chosen to symbolize new ideas. So,
too, is it with written language. The early Egyptian never
thought of fixing on a sign to represent a sound, but his rec
ords began, as those of ^"orth American Indians begin now,
with rude pictures of the transactions to be kept in memory;
and as the process of recording extended, the pictures, abbre
viated and generalized, lost more and more their likenesses
CEREMONY IN GENERAL. 15
to objects and acts, until, under stress of the need for express
ing proper names, some of them were used phonetically, and
signs of sounds came into existence. But, in our days, there
has been reached a stage at which, as shorthand shows us,
special marks are consciously selected to signify special
sounds. The lesson taught is obvious. As it
would be an error to conclude that because we knowingly
choose sounds to symbolize ideas, and marks to symbolize
sounds, the like was originally done by savages and by
barbarians ; so it is an error to conclude that because among
the civilized certain ceremonies (say those of freemasons)
are arbitrarily fixed upon, so ceremonies were arbitra
rily fixed upon by the uncivilized. Already, in in
dicating the primitiveness of ceremonial control, I have
named some modes of behaviour expressing subordination
which have a natural genesis; and here the inference to be
drawn is, that until we have found a natural genesis for a
ceremony, we have not discovered its origin. The truth of
this inference will seem less improbable on observing sundry
ways in which spontaneous manifestations of emotion initi
ate formal observances.
The ewe bleating after her lamb that has strayed, and
smelling now one and now another of the lambs near her,
but at length, by its odour, identifying as her own one that
comes running up, doubtless, thereupon, experiences a wrave
of gratified maternal feeling; and by repetition there is es
tablished between this odour and this pleasure, such an asso
ciation that the first habitually produces the last : the smell
becomes, on all occasions, agreeable by serving to bring into
consciousness more or less of the philoprogenitive emotion.
That among some races of men individuals are similarly
identified, the Bible yields proofs. Though Isaac, with
senses dulled by age, fails thus to distinguish his sons from
one another, yet the fact that, unable to see Jacob, and puz
zled by the conflicting evidence his voice and his hands fur
nished, " he smelled the smell of his raiment, and blessed
16 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
him," shows that different persons, even members of the
same family, were perceived by the Hebrews to have their
specific odours. And that perception of the odour possessed
by one who is loved, yields pleasure, proof is given by an
other Asiatic race. Of a Mongol father, Timkowski writes :
— " He smelt from time to time the head of his youngest
son, a mark of paternal tenderness usual among the Mon
gols, instead of embracing/7 In the Philippine Islands
" the sense of smell is developed ... to so great a degree
that they are able, by smelling at the pocket-handkerchiefs,
to tell to which persons they belong; and lovers at parting
exchange pieces of the linen they may be wearing, and dur
ing their separation inhale the odour of the beloved being,
besides smothering the relics with kisses." So, too, with the
Chittagong-Hill people, the " manner of kissing is peculiar.
Instead of pressing lip to lip, they place the mouth and nose
upon the cheek, and inhale the breath strongly. Their
form of speech is not ' Give me a kiss,' but ' smell me.' '
Similarly " the Burmese do not kiss each other in the west
ern fashion, but apply the lips and nose to the cheek and
make a strong inhalation." And now note a sequence.
Inhalation of the odour given off by a loved person coming
to be a mark of affection for him or for her, it happens that
since men wish to be liked, and are pleased by display of
liking, the performance of this act which signifies liking,
initiates a complimentary observance, and gives rise to cer
tain modes of showing respect. The Samoans salute by
" juxtaposition of noses, accompanied not by a rub, but a
hearty smell. They shake and smell the hands also, espe
cially of a superior." And there are like salutes among the
Esquimaux and the New Zealanders.
The alliance between smell and taste being close, we
may naturally expect a class of acts which arise from tast
ing, parallel to the class of acts which smelling originates;
and the expectation is fulfilled. Obviously the billing of
doves or pigeons and the like action of love-birds, indicates
CEREMONY IN GENERAL. 17
an affection which is gratified by the gustatory sensation.
No act of this kind on the part of an inferior creature, as of
a cow licking her calf, can have any other origin than the
direct prompting of a desire which gains by the act satis
faction; and in such a case the satisfaction is that which
vivid perception of offspring gives to the maternal yearning.
In some animals like acts arise from other forms of affection.
Licking the hand, or, where it is accessible, the face, is a
common display of attachment on a dog's part; and when
we remember how keen must be the olfactory sense by
which a dog traces his master, we cannot doubt that to his
gustatory sense, too, there is yielded some impression — an
impression associated with those pleasures of affection
which his master's presence gives. The inference
that kissing, as a mark of fondness in the human race, has a
kindred origin, is sufficiently probable. Though kissing is
not universal — though the Negro races do not understand it,
and though, as we have seen, there are cases in which sniff
ing replaces it — yet, being common to unlike and widely-
dispersed peoples, we may conclude that it originated in
the same manner as the analogous action among lower
creatures. Here, however, we are chiefly concerned to
observe the indirect result. From kissing as a natural sign
of affection, there is derived the kissing which, as a means of
simulating affection, gratifies those who are kissed; and, by
gratifying them, propitiates them. Hence an obvious root
for the kissing of feet, hands, garments, as a part of cere
monial.
Feeling, sensational or emotional, causes muscular con
tractions, which are strong in proportion as it is intense;
and, among other feelings, those of love and liking have an
effect of this kind, which takes on its appropriate form. The
most significant of the actions hence originating is not much
displayed by inferior creatures, because their limbs are
unfitted for prehension; but in the human race its natural
genesis is sufficiently manifest. Mentioning a mother's
18 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
embrace of her child, will remind all. that the strength of the
embrace (unless restrained to prevent mischief) measures
the strength of the feeling; and while reminded that the
feeling thus naturally vents itself in muscular actions, they
may further see that these actions are directed in such
ways as to give satisfaction to the feeling by yield
ing a vivid consciousness of possession. That between
adults allied emotions originate like acts, scarcely needs add
ing. It is not so much these facts, however, as the
derived facts, which we have to take note of. Here is an
other root for a ceremony: an embrace, too, serving to ex
press liking, serves to propitiate in cases where it is not nega
tived by those observances which subjection entails. It
occurs where governmental subordination is but little devel
oped. Of some Snake Indians we read, " the three men
immediately leaped from their horses, came up to Captain
Lewis, and embraced him with great cordiality." Marcy
tells of a Comanche that, " seizing me in his brawny arms
while we were yet in the saddle, and laying his greasy head
upon my shoulder, he inflicted upon me a most bruin-like
squeeze." And Snow says, the Fuegian " friendly mode of
salutation was anything but agreeable. The men came
and hugged me, very much like the grip of a bear."
Discharging itself in muscular actions which, in cases
like the foregoing, are directed to an end, feeling in other
cases discharges itself in undirected muscular actions. The
resulting changes are habitually rhythmical. Each con
siderable movement of a limb brings it to a position at which
a counter-movement is easy; both because the muscles pro
ducing the counter-movement are then in the best positions
for contraction, and because they have had a brief rest.
Hence the naturalness of striking the hands together or
against other parts. We see this as a spontaneous manifesta
tion of pleasure among children; and we find it giving ori
gin to a ceremony among the uncivilized. Clapping of the
hands is " the highest mark of respect " in Loango; and it
CEREMONY IN GENERAL. 19
occurs with kindred meaning among the Coast Negroes,
the East Africans, the Dahomans. Joined with other acts
expressing welcome, the people of Batoka " slap the out-
sides of their thighs; " the Ealonda people, besides clapping
their hands, sometimes " in saluting, drum their ribs with
their elbows; " while in Dahomey, and some kingdoms on
the Coast, snapping the fingers is one of the salutes.
Rhythmical muscular motions of the arms and hands, thus
expressing pleasure, real or pretended, in presence of an
other person, are not the only motions of this class : the legs
come into play. Children often "jump for joy;" and
occasionally adults may be seen to do the like. Saltatory
movements are therefore apt to grow into compliments. In
Loango " many of the nobility salute the king by leaping
with great strides backward and forward two or three times
and swinging their arms.'7 The Fuegians also, as the
United States explorers tell us, show friendship " by jump
ing up and down." *
Feeling, discharging itself, contracts the muscles of
the vocal organs, as well as other muscles. Here shouts, in
dicating joy in general, indicate the joy produced by meet
ing one who is beloved; and serve to give the appearance of
joy before one whose goodwill is sought. Among the Fiji-
ans, respect is " indicated by the tama* which is a shout of
reverence uttered by inferiors when approaching a chief
or chief town." In Australia, as we have seen, loud
cooeys are made on coming within a mile of an encampment
* In his Early History of Mankind (2nd ed. pp. 51-2), Mr. Tylor thus com
ments on such observances : — " The lowest class of salutations, which merely
aim at giving pleasant bodily sensations, merge into the civilities which we see
exchanged among the lower animals. Such are patting, stroking, kissing,
pressing noses, blowing, sniffing, and so forth. . . . Natural expressions of
joy, such as clapping hands in Africa, and jumping up and down in Tierra del
Fuego, are made to do duty as signs of friendship or greeting." But, as in
dicated above, to give " pleasant bodily sensations " is not the aim of " the
lowest class of salutations." Mr. Tylor has missed the physio-psychological
sources of the acts which initiate them.
20 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
— an act which, while primarily indicating pleasure at the
coming reunion, further indicates those friendly intentions
which a silent approach would render doubtful.
One more example may be named. Tears result from
strong feeling — mostly from painful feeling, but also from
pleasurable feeling when extreme. Hence, as a sign of joy,
weeping occasionally passes into a complimentary observ
ance. The beginning of such an observance is shown us
by Hebrew traditions in the reception of Tobias by Raguel,
when he finds him to be his cousin's son: — " Then Raguel
leaped up, and kissed him, and wept.7' And among some
races there grows from this root a social rite. In New Zea
land a meeting " led to a warm tangi between the two par
ties; but, after sitting opposite to each other for a quarter
of an hour or more, crying bitterly, with a most piteous
moaning and lamentation, the tangi was transformed into
a hungi, and the two old ladies commenced pressing noses,
giving occasional satisfactory grunts." And then we find it
becoming a public ceremony. On the arrival of a great
chief, " the women stood upon a hill, and loud and long was
the tangi to welcome his approach; occasionally, however,
they would leave off, to have a chat or a laugh, and then
mechanically resume their weeping." Other Malay o-Poly-
nesians have a like custom ; as have also the Tupis of South
America.
To these examples of the ways in which natural mani
festations of emotion originate ceremonies, may be added
a few examples of the ways in which ceremonies not origi
nating directly from spontaneous actions, nevertheless orig
inate by natural sequence rather than by intentional sym-
bolization. Brief indications must suffice.
Blood-relationships are formed in Central South Africa
between those who imbibe a little of each other's blood. A
like way of establishing brotherhood is used in Madagascar,
in Borneo, and in many places throughout the world; and
it was used among our remote ancestors. This is assumed
CEREMONY IN GENERAL. 21
to be a symbolic observance. On studying early ideas,
however, and finding that the primitive man regards the
nature of anything as inhering in all its parts, and therefore
thinks he gets the courage of a brave enemy by eating his
heart, or is inspired with the virtues of a deceased relative
by grinding his bones and drinking them in water, we see
that by absorbing each other's blood, men are supposed to
establish actual community of nature.
Similarly with the ceremony of exchanging names.
" To bestow his name upon a friend is the highest compli
ment that one man can offer another," among the Sho-
shones. The Australians exchange names with Europeans,
in proof of brotherly feeling. This, which is a widely-dif
fused practice, arises from the belief that the name is vitally
connected with its owner. Possessing a man's name is
equivalent to possessing a portion of his being, and enables
the possessor to work mischief to him; and hence among
numerous peoples a reason for concealing names. To ex
change names, therefore, is to establish some participation
in one another's being; and at the same time to trust each
with power over the other: implying great mutual confi
dence.
It is a usage among the people of Vate, " when they wish
to make peace, to kill one or more of their own people, and
send the body to those with whom they have been fighting
to eat; " and in Samoa, " it is the custom on the submission
of one party to another, to bow down before their conquerors
each with a piece of firewood and a bundle of leaves, such
as are used in dressing a pig for the oven [bamboo-knives
being sometimes added] ; as much as to say — ' 3£ill us and
ccok us, if you please.' ' These facts I name because they
show a point of departure from which might arise an appar
ently-artificial ceremony. Let the traditions of cannibalism
among the Samoaiis disappear, and this surviving custom
of presenting firewood, leaves, and knives, as a sign of sub
mission, would, in pursuance of the ordinary method of in-
Ou
22 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
terpretation, be taken for an observance arbitrarily fixed
upon.
The facts that peace is signified among the Dacotahs
by burying the tomahawk and among the Brazilians by a
present of bows and arrows, may be cited as illustrating
what is in a sense symbolization, but what is in origin a modi
fication of the proceeding symbolized ; for cessation of fight
ing is necessitated by putting away weapons, or by giving
weapons to an antagonist. If, as among the civilized, a
conquered enemy delivers up his sword, the act of so mak
ing himself defenceless is an act of personal submission;
but eventually it comes to be, on the part of a general, a
sign that his army surrenders. Similarly, when, as in parts
of Africa, " some of the free blacks become slaves volunta
rily by going through the simple but significant ceremony
of breaking a spear in the presence of their future master/'
we may properly say that the relation thus artificially estab
lished, is as near an approach as may be to the relation es
tablished when a foe whose weapon is broken is made a slave
by his captor : the symbolic transaction simulates the actual
transaction.
An instructive example conies next. I refer to the
bearing of green boughs as a sign of peace, as an act of pro
pitiation, and as a religious ceremony. As indicating peace
the custom occurs among the Araucanians, Australians,
Tasmanians, New Guinea People, New Caledonians, Sand
wich Islanders, Tahitians, Samoans, New Zealanders; and
branches were used by the Hebrews also for propitiatory
approach (II. Mace. xiv. 4). In some cases we find them
employed to signify not peace only but submission. Speak
ing of the Peruvians, Cieza says — " The men and boys came
out with green boughs and palm-leaves to seek for mercy; "
and among the Greeks, too, a suppliant carried an olive
branch. Wall-paintings left by the ancient Egyptians
show us palm-branches carried in funeral processions to pro
pitiate the dead; and at the present time " a wreath of palm-
CEREMONY IN GENERAL. 23
branches stuck in the grave " is common in a Moslem ceme
tery in Egypt. A statement of Wallis respecting the Ta-
hitians shows presentation of these parts of trees passing
into a religious observance: a pendant left flying on the
beach the natives regarded with fear, bringing green boughs
and hogs, which they laid down at the foot of the staff.
And that portion of a tree was anciently an appliance
of worship in the East, is shown by the direction in Lev.
xxiii. 40, to take the " boughs of goodly trees, branches of
palm-trees," and " rejoice before the Lord: " a verification
being furnished by the description of the chosen in heaven,
who stand before the throne with " palms in their
hands." The explanation, when we get the clue,
is simple. Travellers' narratives illustrate the fact that
laying down weapons on approaching strangers is taken to
imply pacific intentions. Obviously the reason is that
opposite intentions are thus negatived. Of the Kaffirs,
for instance, Barrow says — " ' a messenger of peace ' is
known by this people from his laying down his hassagai or
spear on the ground at the distance of two hundred paces
from those to whom he is sent, and by advancing from
thence with extended arms: " the extension of the arms
evidently having the purpose of showing that he has no
weapon secreted. But how is the absence of weapons to be
shown when so far off that weapons, if carried, are invis
ible? Simply by carrying other things which are visible;
and boughs covered with leaves are the most convenient
and generally available things for this purpose. Good
evidence is at hand. The Tasmanians had a way of deceiv
ing those who inferred from the green boughs in their hands
that they were weaponless. They practised the art of hold
ing their spears between their toes as they walked: "the
black . . . approaching him in pretended amit}*, trailed
between his toes the fatal spear." Arbitrary, then, as this
usage seems when observed in its later forms only, we find it
by no means arbitrary when traced back to its origin.
2± CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
Taken as proof that the advancing stranger is without arms,
the green bough is primarily a sign that he is not an enemy.
It is thereafter joined with other marks of friendship. It
survives when propitiation passes into submission. And so
it becomes incorporated with various other actions which
express reverence and worship.
One more instance I must add, because it clearly shows
how there grow up interpretations of ceremonies as arti
ficially-devised actions, when their natural origins are un
known. At Arab marriages, Baker says, " there is much
feasting, and the unfortunate bridegroom undergoes the
ordeal of whipping by the relations of his bride, in order to
test his courage. ... If the happy husband wishes to be
considered a man worth having, he must receive the chas
tisement with an expression of enjoyment; in which case
the crowds of women in admiration again raise their thrill
ing cry." Here, instead of the primitive abduction violent
ly resisted by the woman and her relatives — instead of the
actual capture required to be achieved, as among the Kamt-
schadales, spite of the blows and wounds inflicted by " all
the women in the village "• —instead of those modifications
of the t form of capture ' in which, along with mock pur
suit, there goes receipt by the abductor of more or less vio
lence from the pursuers; we have a modification in which
pursuit has disappeared, and the violence is passively re
ceived. And then there arises the belief that this castiga-
tion of the bridegroom is a deliberately-chosen way to " test
his courage."
These facts are not given as adequately proving that in
all cases ceremonies are modifications of actions which had
at first direct adaptations to desired ends, and that their
apparently symbolic characters resiilt from their survival
under changed circumstances. Here I have aimed only to
indicate, in the briefest way, the reasons for rejecting the
current hypothesis that ceremonies originate in conscious
symbolization ; and for entertaining the belief that in every
CEREMONY IN GENERAL. 25
case they originate by evolution. This belief we shall here
after find abundantly justified.
§ 347. A chief reason why little attention has been paid
to phenomena of this class, all-pervading and conspicuous
though they are, is that while to most social functions there
correspond structures too large to be overlooked, functions
which make up ceremonial control have correlative struc
tures so small as to seem of no significance. That the gov
ernment of observances has its organization, just as the po
litical and ecclesiastical governments have, is a fact habitu
ally passed over, because, while the last two organizations
have developed the first has dwindled: in those societies,
at least, which have reached the stage at which social
phenomena become subjects of speculation. Originally,
however, the officials who direct the rites expressing politi
cal subordination have an importance second only to that
of the officials who direct religious rites; and the two
officialisms are homologous. To whichever class belong
ing, these functionaries conduct propitiatory acts: the visi
ble ruler being the propitiated person in the one case, and
the ruler no longer visible being the propitiated person in
the other case. Both are performers and regulators of wor
ship — worship of the living king and worship of the dead
king. In our advanced stage the differentiation of the
divine from the human has become so great that this propo
sition looks scarcely credible. But on going back through
stages in which the attributes of the conceived deity are less
and less unlike those of the visible man, and eventually
reaching the early stage in which the other-self of the dead
man, considered indiscriminately as ghost and god, is not
to be distinguished, when he appears, from the living man;
we cannot fail to see the alliance in nature between the
functions of those who minister to the ruler who has gone
away and those who minister to the ruler who has taken his
place. What remaining strangeness there may seem in
26 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
this assertion of homology disappears on remembering that
in sundry ancient societies living kings were literally wor
shipped as dead kings were.
Social organisms that are but little differentiated clearly
show us several aspects of this kinship. The savage chief
proclaims his own great deeds and the achievements of his
ancestors; and that in some cases this habit of self-praise
long persists, Egyptian and Assyrian inscriptions prove.
Among the Patagonians we see a transition beginning. A
ruler haranguing his subjects, " always extols his own prow
ess and personal merit. When he is eloquent, he is greatly
esteemed; and when a cacique is not endowed with that
accomplishment, he generally has an orator, who supplies
his place.'7 Permanent advance from the stage at which
the head man lauds himself, to the stage at which laudation
of him is done by deputy, is well typified in the contrast
between the recent usage in Madagascar, where the king in
public assembly was in the habit of relating " his origin,
his descent from the line of former sovereigns, and his in
contestable right to the kingdom," and the usage that ex
isted in past times among ourselves, when the like distinc
tions and claims of the king were publicly asserted for him
by an appointed officer. As the ruler, extending his domin
ions and growing in power, gathers round him more numer
ous agents, the utterance of propitiatory praises, at first by
all of these, becomes eventually distinctive of certain among
them: there arise official glorifiers. " In Samoa, a chief
in travelling is attended by his principal orator.'7 In
Fiji each tribe has its " orator, to make orations on occasions
of ceremony." The attendants of the chiefs in Ashantee
eagerly vociferate the "strong names" of their masters;
and a recent writer describes certain of the king's attendants
whose duty it is to " give him names " — cry out his titles and
high qualities. In kindred fashion a Yoruba king, when he
goes abroad, is accompanied by his wives, who sing his
praises. Now when we meet with facts of this kind — when
CEREMONY IN GENERAL. 27
we read that in Madagascar " the sovereign has a large band
of female singers, who attend in the courtyard, and who ac
company their monarch whenever he takes an excursion,
either for a short airing or distant journey; " when we are
told that in China " his imperial majesty was preceded by
persons loudly proclaiming his virtues and his power; "
when we learn that among the ancient Chibchas the bogota
was received with " songs in which they sung his deeds and
victories; " we cannot deny that these assertors of greatness
and singers of praises do for the living king exactly that
which priests and priestesses do for the dead king, and for
the god who evolves from the dead king. In societies
that have their ceremonial governments largely developed,
the homology is further shown. As such societies ordina
rily have many gods of various powers, severally served
by their official glorifiers; so they have various grades
of living potentates, severally served by man who as
sert their greatness and demand respect. In Samoa,
" a herald runs a few paces before, calling out, as he
meets any one, the name of the chief who is coming."
With a Madagascar chief in his palanquin-, " one or two
men with assagais, or spears, in their hands, ran along in
front shouting out the name of the chief." In advance of
an ambassador in Japan there " first walked four men with
brooms such as always precede the retinue of a great lord, in
order to admonish the people with cries of ' Stay, stay! '
which means, i Sit, or bow you down.' " * In. China a
magistrate making a progress is preceded by men bearing
" red boards having the rank of the officer painted on them,
running and shouting to the street passengers, ' Retire, re
tire! keep silence, and clear the way! ' Gong-strikers fol
low, denoting at certain intervals by so many strokes their
master's grade and office." And in ancient Rome men of
rank had their anteambulones whose cry was " Give place
* Mr. Ernest Satow, writing from Japan to suggest some corrections, says
this cry should be "shita ni, shita ni, Down! Down! (i.e. on your knees)."
28 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
to my lord." Another parallelism exists between
the official who proclaims the king's will and the official who
proclaims the will of the deity. In many places where
regal power is extreme, the monarch is either invisible or
cannot be directly communicated with : the living ruler thus
simulating the dead and divine ruler, and requiring kindred
intermediators. It was thus among the ancient Assyrians.
Their monarch could be spoken to only through the Vizier
or the chief eunuch. It was thus in ancient Mexico. Of
Montezuma II. it is said that " no commoner was to look
him in the face, and if one did, he died for it; " and further,
that he did not communicate with any one, " except by an
interpreter." In Nicaragua the caciques " carried their
exclusion so far as to receive messages from other chiefs
only through officers delegated for that purpose." So of
Peru, where some of the rulers " had the custom not to be
seen by their subjects but on rare occasions," we read that
at the first interview with the Spaniards, " Atahuallpa gave
no answer, nor did he even raise his eyes to look at the cap
tain (Hernando de Soto). But a chief replied to what the
captain had said." With the Chibchas " the first of the
court officers was the crier, as they said that he was the
medium by which the will of the prince was explained."
Throughout Africa at the present time it is the same. " In
conversation with the King of Uganda, the words must
always be transmitted through one or more of his officers."
In Dahomey, " the sovereign's words are spoken to the meu,
who informs the interpreter, who passes it on to the visitor,
and the answer must trickle back through the same chan
nels." And, concerning Abyssinia, where even the chiefs
sit in their houses in darkness, so "that vulgar eyes may
not gaze too plainly upon " them, we are told the king was
not seen when sitting in council, but " sat in a darkened
room," and " observed through a window what was going
on in the chamber without; " and also that he had " an
interpreter, who was the medium of communication between
CEREMONY IN GENERAL. 29
the king and his people on state occasions; his name meant
the voice or word of the king." I may add that this
parallelism between the secular and sacred agents of
communication is in some cases recognized by peoples whose
institutions display it. The New Zealand priests are re
garded as the " ambassadors of the gods;" and the title
" messengers of the gods " is borne by the officers of the
temple of Tensio dai Sin, the chief deity of the Japa
nese.
There is a further evidence of this homology. Where,
along with social development considerably advanced,
ancestor-worship has remained dominant, and where gods
and men are consequently but little differentiated, the two
organizations are but little differentiated. In ancient
Egypt " it was the priesthood, directing the ceremonial of
court-life, who exacted . . . that the king (belonging to
their order) did not receive any one who failed to follow
their laws of purity." China furnishes a good instance.
" The Chinese emperors are in the habit of deifying . . .
civil or military officers, whose life has been characterized
by some memorable act, and the worship rendered to these
constitute the official religion of the mandarins." Further,
the emperor " confers various titles on officers who have
left the world, and shown themselves worthy of the high
trust reposed in them, creating them governors, presidents,
overseers, <fcc., in Hades." And then we learn that one
department of the Li pu, or Board of Rites, regulates the
etiquette to be observed at court, the dresses, carriages and
riding accoutrements, the followers and insignia; while
another department superintends the rites to be observed in
worshipping deities and spirits of departed monarchs, sages,
and worthies, &c. : statements showing that the same board
regulates both religious ceremonial and civil ceremonial.
To which summarized account I may add this quotation : —
" in Court, the master of ceremonies stands in a conspicuous
place, and with a loud voice commands the courtiers to
30 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
rise and kneel, stand or march; " that is, he directs the
worshippers of the monarch as a chief priest directs the wor
shippers of the god. Equally marked were, until lately,
the kindred relations in Japan. With the sacredness of
the Mikado, and with his god-like inaccessibility, travellers
have familiarized us; but the implied confusion between
the divine and the human went to a much greater extent.
' ' The Japanese generally are imbued with the idea that their land
is a real l shin koku, a kami no kooni ' — that is, the land of spiritual
beings or kingdom of spirits. They are led to think that the emperor
rules over all, and that, among other subordinate powers, he rules
over the spirits of the country. He rules over men, and is to them
the fountain of honour ; and this is not confined to honours in this
world, but is extended to the other, where they are advanced from
rank to rank by the orders of the emperor."
And then we read that under the Japanese cabinet, one of
the eight administrative boards, the Ji Bu shio, " deals with
the forms of society, manners, etiquette, worship, cere
monies for the living and the dead." *
Western peoples, among whom during the Christian era
differentiation of the divine froni the human has become
very decided, exhibit in a less marked manner the homology
between the ceremonial organization and the ecclesiastical
organization. Still it is, or rather was once, clearly trace
able. In feudal days, beyond the lord high chamberlains,
grand masters of ceremonies, ushers, and so forth, belong
ing to royal courts, and the kindred officers found in the
households of subordinate rulers and nobles (officers who
conducted propitiatory observances), there were the heralds.
These formed a class of ceremonial functionaries, in various
ways resembling a priesthood. Just noting as significant
the remark of Scott that " so intimate was the union be-
* Concerning Dickson's statement, here quoted, Mr. Ernest Satow writes
that this board (long since extinct) was double. The differentiation in the
functions of its divisions was but partial however ; for while one regulated the
propitiation of the gods, the other, beside regulating secular propitiations, per
formed propitiations of the dead Mikados, who were gods.
CEREMONY IN GENERAL. 31
twixt chivalry and religion esteemed to be, that the sev
eral gradations of the former were seriously considered
as parallel to those of the Church/' I go on to point out that
these officers pertaining to the institution of chivalry,
formed a body which, where it was highly organized, as in
France, had five ranks — chevaucheur^poursuivant d/armes,
heraut (Pannes, roi cParmes, and roi ctfarmes de France.
Into these ranks successively, its members were initiated by
a species of baptism — wine being substituted for water.
They held periodic chapters in the church of St. Antoine.
When bearing mandates and messages, they were similarly
dressed with their masters, royal or noble, and were simi
larly honoured by those to whom they were sent: having
thus a deputed dignity akin to the deputed sacredness of
priests. By the chief king-at-arms and five others, local
visitations were made for discipline, as ecclesiastical visita
tions were made. Heralds verified the titles of those who
aspired to the distinctions of chivalry, as priests decided on
the fitness of applicants for the sanctions of the Church;
and when going their circuits, they wrere to correct " things
ill and dishonest," and to advise princes — duties allied to
those of priests. Besides announcing the wills of earthly
rulers as priests announced the wills of heavenly rulers,
they were glorifiers of the first as priests were of the
last: part of their duty to those they served being " to pub
lish their praises in foreign lands." At the burials of
kings and princes, where observances for honouring the liv
ing and observances for honouring the dead, came in con
tact, the kinship of a herald's function to the function of
a priest was again shown; for besides putting in the tomb
the insignia of rank of the deceased potentate, and in
that manner sacrificing to him, the herald had to write,
or get written, a eulogy — had to initiate that worship of
the dead out of which grow higher forms of worship. Simi
lar, if less elaborate, was the system in England. Heralds
had royal dresses, and used the plural
32 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
" we." Anciently there were two heraldic provinces,
with their respective chief heralds, like two dioceses. Fur
ther development produced a garter king-at-arms, writh pro
vincial kings-at-arms presiding over minor heraldic officers;
and, in 1483, all were incorporated into the College of
Heralds. As in France, visitations were made for the pur
pose of verifying existing titles and honours, and authoriz
ing others; and funeral rites were so far under heraldic
control that, among the nobility, no one could be buried
without the assent of the herald.
Why these structures which discharged ceremonial
functions once conspicuous and important, dwindled, while
civil and ecclesiastical structures developed, it is easy to see.
Propitiation of the living has been, from the outset, neces
sarily more localized than propitiation of the dead. The
existing ruler can be worshipped only in his presence, or, at
any rate, within his dwelling or in its neighbourhood.
Though in Peru adoration was paid to images of the living
Yncas; and though in Madagascar King Radama, when
absent, had his praises sung in the words — " God is gone to
the west, Radama is a mighty bull; " yet, generally, the
obeisances and laudations expressing subordination to the
great man while alive, are not made when they cannot be
witnessed by him or his immediate dependants. But
when the great man dies and there begins the fear of his
ghost, conceived as able to reappear anywhere, propitiations
are less narrowly localized; and in proportion as, with
formation of larger societies, there comes development of
deities greater in supposed power and range, dread of them
and reverence for them are felt simultaneously over wide
areas. Hence the official propitiators, multiplying and
spreading, severally carry on their worships in many places
at the same time — there arise large bodies of ecclesiastical
officials. Xot for these reasons alone, however,
does the ceremonial organization fail to grow as the other or
ganizations do. Development of the latter, causes decay of
CEREMONY IN GENERAL. 33
the former. During early stages of social integration, local
rulers have their local courts with appropriate officers of
ceremony; but the process of consolidation and increasing
subordination to a central government, results in decreasing
dignity of the local rulers, and disappearance of the official
upholders of their dignity. Among ourselves in past
times, " dukes, marquises, and earls were allowed a herald
and a pursuivant; viscounts, and barons, and others not
ennobled, even knights bannerets, might retain one of the
latter; " but as the regal power grew, " the practice
gradually ceased: there were none so late as Elizabeth's
reign." Yet further, the structure carrying on
ceremonial control slowly falls away, because its functions
are gradually encroached upon. Political and ecclesiasti
cal regulations, though at first insisting mainly on conduct
expressing obedience to rulers, human and divine, develop
more and more in the directions of equitable restraints on
conduct between individuals, and ethical precepts for the
guidance of such conduct; and in doing this they trench
more and more on the sphere of the ceremonial organiza
tion. In France, besides having the semi-priestly functions
we have noted, the heralds were u judges of the crimes
committed by the nobility; " and they were empowered to
degrade a transgressing noble, confiscate his goods, raze his
dwellings, lay waste his lands, and strip him of his arms.
In England, too, certain civil duties were discharged by
these officers of ceremony. Till 1G88, the provincial
kings-at-anns had " visited their divisions, receiving com
missions for that purpose from the Sovereign, by which
means the funeral certificates, the descents, and alliances of
the nobility and gentry, had been properly registered in this
college [of Heralds]. These became records in all the
courts at law." Evidently the assumption of functions of
these kinds by ecclesiastical and political agents, has joined
in reducing the ceremonial structures to those rudiments
which now remain in the almost-forgotten Herald's Col-
34: CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
lege and in the Court officials who regulate intercourse with
the Sovereign.
§ 348. Before passing to a detailed account of cere
monial government under its various aspects, it will be well
to sum up the results of this preliminary survey. They are
these.
That control of conduct which we distinguish as cere
mony, precedes the civil and ecclesiastical controls. It
begins with sub-human types of creatures; it occurs among
otherwise ungoverned savages; it often becomes highly
developed where the other kinds of rule are little devel
oped; it is ever being spontaneously generated afresh be
tween individuals in all societies; and it envelops the more
definite restraints which State and Church exercise. The
primitiveness of ceremonial regulation is further shown
by the fact that at first, political and religious regulations
are little more than systems of ceremony, directed towards
particular persons living and dead: the code of law joined
with the one, and the moral code joined with the other,
coming later. There is again the evidence derived from the
possession of certain elements in common by the three
controls, social, political, and religious; for the forms ob
servable in social intercourse occur also in political and re
ligious intercourse as forms of homage and forms of wor
ship. More significant still is the circumstance that cere
monies may mostly be traced back to certain spontaneous
acts which manifestly precede legislation, civil and ecclesias
tical. Instead of arising by dictation or by agreement,
which wrould imply the pre-established organization re
quired for making and enforcing rules, they arise by modi
fications of acts performed for personal ends; and so prove
themselves to grow out of individual conduct before social
arrangements exist to control it. Lastly we note that when
there arises a political head, who, demanding subordination,
is at first his own master of the ceremonies, and who present-
CEREMONY IN GENERAL. 35
ly collects round him attendants whose propitiatory acts are
made definite and fixed by repetition, there arise ceremonial
officials. Though, along with the growth of organizations
which enforce civil laws and enunciate moral precepts, there
has been such a decay of the ceremonial organization as to
render it among ourselves inconspicuous ; yet in early stages
the body of officials who conduct propitiation of living
rulers, supreme and subordinate, homologous with the body
of officials who conduct propitiation of dead apotheosized
rulers, major and minor, is a considerable element of the so
cial structure ; and it dwindles only as fast as the structures,
political and ecclesiastical, which exercise controls more
definite and detailed, usurp its functions.
Carrying with us these general conceptions, let us now
pass to the several components of ceremonial rule. AYe
will deal with them under the heads — Trophies, Mutilations,
Presents, Visits, Obeisances, Forms of Address, Titles,
Badges and Costumes, Further Class Distinctions, Fashion,
Past and Future of Ceremony.
CHAPTEK II.
TROPHIES.
§ 349. Efficiency of every kind is a source of self-
satisfaction; and proofs of it are prized as bringing
applause. The sportsman, narrating his feats when
opportunity serves, keeps such spoils of the chase as he con
veniently can. Is he a fisherman? Then, occasionally,
the notches cut on the butt of his rod, show the number
and lengths of his salmon; or, in a glass case, there is pre
served the great Thames-trout he once caught. Has he
stalked deer? Then in his hall, or dining-room, are fixed
up their heads; which he greatly esteems when the attached
horns have " many points." Still more, if a successful hun
ter of tigers, does he value the skins demonstrating his
prowess.
Trophies of such kinds, even among ourselves, give to
their owner some influence over those around him. A
traveller who has brought from Africa a pair of elephant's
tusks, or the formidable horn of a rhinoceros, impresses
those who come in contact with him as a man of courage
and resource, and, therefore, as one not to be trifled with.
A vague kind of governing power accrues to him.
Naturally, by primitive men, whose lives are predatory
and whose respective values largely depend on their
powers as hunters, animal-trophies are still more prized;
and tend, in greater degrees, to bring honour and influence.
Hence the fact that rank in Yate is indicated by the num-
36
TROPHIES. 37
ber of bones of all kinds suspended in the house. Of
the Shoshone warrior we are told that, " killing a grizzly
bear also entitles him to this honour, for it is considered
a great feat to slay one of these formidable animals,
and only he who has performed it is allowed to wear their
highest insignia of glory, the feet or claws of the vic
tim." " In the house of a powerful chief [of the Mishmis],
several hundreds of skulls [of beasts], are hung up along
the walls of the passage, and his wealth is always calcu
lated according to the number of these trophies, which
also form a kind of currency among the tribes." With
the Santals " it is customary to hand these trophies [skulls
of beasts, &c.j down from father to son." And when,
with such facts to give us the clue, we read that the habi
tation of the king of the Koossas " is no otherwise
distinguished than by the tail of a lion or a panther hang
ing from the top of the roof," we can scarcely doubt
that this symbol of royalty was originally a trophy dis
played by a chief whose prowess had gained him suprem
acy.
But as, among the uncivilized and semi-civilized, human
enemies are more to be feared than beast-enemies, and
conquests over men are therefore occasions of greater
triumphs than conquests over animals, it results that
proofs of such conquests are usually still more valued.
A brave who returns from battle does not get honour
if his boasts are unsupported by evidence; but if he
proves that he has killed his man by bringing back some
part of him — especially a part which the corpse could
not yield in duplicate — he raises his character in the
tribe and increases his power. Preservation of such tro
phies with a view to display, and consequent strength
ening of personal influence, therefore becomes an estab
lished custom. In Ashantee " the smaller joints, bones,
and teeth of the slain are worn by the victors about their
persons." Among the Ceris and Opatas of North Mexico,
61
38 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
" many cook and eat the flesh of their captives, reserving
the bones as trophies." And another Mexican race, " the
Chichimecs, carried with them a bone on which, when they
killed an enemy, they marked a notch, as a record of the
number each had slain."
The meaning of trophy-taking and its social effects, be
ing recognized, let us consider in groups the various
forms of it.
§ 350. Of parts cut from the bodies of the slain, heads
are among the commonest; probably as being the most
unmistakable proofs of victory.
We need not go far afield for examples of the practice
and its motives. The most familiar of books contains
them. In Judges vii. 25, we read — " And they took two
princes of the Midianites, Oreb and Zeeb: and they slew
Oreb upon the rock Oreb, and Zeeb they slew at the
wine-press of Zeeb, and pursued Midian, and brought
the heads of Oreb and Zeeb to Gideon on the other side
Jordan." Similarly, the decapitation of Goliath by
David was followed by carrying his head to Jerusalem.
The practice existed in Egypt too. At Abou Simbel,
Rameses II., is represented as holding a bunch of a dozen
heads. And if, by races so superior, heads were taken
home as trophies, we shall not wonder at finding the cus
tom of thus taking them among inferior races all over
the globe. By the Chichimecs in i^orth America " the
heads of the slain were placed on poles and paraded
through their villages in token of victory, the inhabitants
meanwhile dancing round them." In South America, by
the Abipones, heads are brought back from battle " tied
to their saddles;" and the Mundrucus " ornament their
rude and miserable cabanas with these horrible trophies."
Of Malayo-Polynesians having a like habit, may be named
the Xew Zealanders. Skulls of enemies are preserved as
trophies by the natives on the Congo; and " the skull and
TROPHIES. 39
thigh bones of the last monarch of Dinkira are still tro
phies of the court of Ashantee." Among the Hill-tribes
of India, the Kukis have this practice. In Persia, under
the stimulus of money payments, " prisoners [of war]
have been put to death in cold blood, in order that the heads,
which are immediately dispatched to the king, . . might
make a more considerable show." And that among other
Asiatic races head-taking persists spite of semi-civilization,
we are reminded by the recent doings of the Turks; who
have, in some cases, exhumed the bodies of slain foes and
decapitated them.
The last instance draws attention to the fact that this
barbarous custom has been, and is, carried to the greatest
extremes along with militancy the most excessive. Among
ancient examples there are the doings of Timour, with his
exaction of ninety thousand heads from Bagdad. Of
modern examples the most notable comes from Dahomey.
" The sleeping apartment of a Dahoman king was paved
with skulls of neighbouring princes and chiefs, placed there
that the king might tread upon them." And the king's
statement " that his house wanted thatch," was " used in
giving orders to his generals to make war, and alludes to
the custom of placing the heads of the enemies killed in
battle, or those of the prisoners of distinction, on the roofs
of the guard-houses at the gates of his palaces."
But now, ending instances, let us observe how this tak
ing of heads as trophies initiates a means of strengthening
political power; how it becomes a factor in sacrificial cere
monies; and how it enters into social intercourse as a con
trolling influence.
That the pyramids and towers of heads built by Timour
at Bagdad and Aleppo, must have conduced to his
supremacy by striking terror into the subjugated, as
well as by exciting dread of vengeance for insubordina
tion among his followers, cannot be doubted; and that
living in a dwelling paved and decorated with skulls,
40 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
implies, in a Dahoman king, a character generating
fear among enemies and obedience among subjects, is
obvious. In Northern Celebes, where, before 1822,
" human skulls were the great ornaments of the chiefs'
houses/' these proofs of victory in battle, used as symbols
of authority, could not fail to exercise a governmental
effect. And that they do this we have definite proof in the
fact that among the Mundrucus, the possession of ten
smoke-dried heads of enemies renders a man eligible to the
rank of chief.
That heads are offered in propitiation of the dead, and
that the ceremony of offering them is thus made part of a
quasi-worship, there are clear proofs. One is supplied by
the Celebes people just named. " When a chief died his
tomb must be adorned with two fresh human heads, and if
those of enemies could not be obtained, slaves were killed
for the occasion." Among the Dyaks, who, though in
many respects advanced, have retained this barbarous prac
tice sanctified by tradition, it is the same: " the aged war
rior could not rest in his grave till his relatives had taken a
head in his name." By the Kukis of Northern India
sacrificial head-taking is carried still further. Making raids
into the plains to procure heads, they " have been known in
one night to carry off fifty. These are used in certain
ceremonies performed at the funerals of the chiefs, and it
is always after the death of one of their Kajahs that these
incursions occur."
That the possession of these grisly tokens of success
gives an influence in social intercourse, proof is yielded by
the following passage from St. John: — " Head-hunting is
not so much a religious ceremony among the Pakatans,
Borneo, as merely to show their bravery and manliness.
When they quarrel, it is a constant phrase — ' How many
heads did your father or grandfather get? ' If less than
his own number — t Well then, you have no occasion to
be proud.' '
TROPHIES. 41
§ 351. The head of an enemy is of inconvenient bulk;
and when the journey home is long there arises the question
— cannot proof that an enemy has been killed be given by
carrying back a part only? In some places the savage in
fers that it can, and acts on the inference.
This modification and its meaning are well shown in
Ashantee, where " the general in command sends to the capi
tal the jaw-bones of the slain enemies." When first found,
the Tahitians, too, displayed in triumph their dead foes'
jaw-bones; and Cook saw fifteen of them fastened up at the
end of a house. Similarly of Vate, where " the greater the
chief, the greater the display of bones," we read that if a
slain enemy was " one who spoke ill of the chief, his jaws are
hung up in the chief's house as a trophy: " a tacit threat to
others who vilified him. A recent account of another Papuan
race inhabiting Boigu, on the coast of Xew Guinea, further
illustrates the practice, and also its social effect. Mr. Stone
writes: — " By nature these people are bloody and warlike
among themselves, frequently making raids to the ' Big
Land,' and returning in triumph with the heads arid jaw
bones of their slaughtered victims, the latter becoming the
property of the murderer, and the former of him who de
capitates the body. The jawbone is consequently held as
the most valued trophy, and the more a man possesses, the
greater he becomes in the eyes of his fellow-men." Add
that in South America some tribes of Tupis, in honouring
a victorious warrior, " hung the mouth [of his victim] upon
his arm like a bracelet."
With the display of jaws as trophies, there may be named
a kindred use of teeth. America furnishes instances. The
Caribs " strung together the teeth of such of their enemies
as they had slain in battle, and wore them on their legs and
arms." The Tupis, after devouring a captive, preserved
" the teeth strung in necklaces." The Moxos women wore
" a necklace made of the teeth of enemies killed by their
husbands in battle." The Central Americans made an im-
42 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
age, " and in its mouth were inserted teeth taken from the
Spaniards whom they had killed. "
Other parts of the head, easily detached and carried, also
serve. Where many enemies are slain, the collected ears
yield in small bulk a means of counting; and probably
Zengis Khan had this end in view when, in Poland, he
" filled nine sacks with the right ears of the slain/' !N"oses,
again, are in some cases chosen as easily enumerated tro
phies. Anciently, by Constantine V., " a plate of noses
was accepted as a grateful offering; " and, at the present
time, the noses they have taken are carried by soldiers to
their leaders in Montenegro. That the slain Turks thus
deprived of their noses, even to the extent of five hundred
on one battle-field, were so treated in retaliation for the
decapitations the Turks had been guilty of, is true; but
this excuse does not alter the fact " that the Montenegrin
chiefs could not be persuaded to give up the practice of pay
ing their clansmen for the number of noses produced."
§ 352. The ancient Mexicans, having for gods their dei
fied cannibal ancestors, in whose worship the most horrible
rites were daily performed, in some cases took as trophies
the entire skins of the vanquished. " The first prisoner
made in a war was flayed alive. The soldier who had cap
tured him dressed himself in his bleeding skin, and thus,
for some days, served the god of battles. . . . He who was
dressed in the skin walked from one temple to another; men
and women followed him, shouting for joy." While we
here see that the trophy was taken primarily as a proof of
the victor's prowess, we are also shown how there resulted
a religious ceremony : the trophy was displayed for the sup
posed gratification of deities delighting in bloodshed.
There is further evidence that this was the intention. " At
the festival of the goldsmiths' god Totec, one of the priests
put on the skin of a captive, and being so dressed, he was
the image of that god Totec." Nebel (pi. 3, fig. 1) gives
TROPHIES. 43
the basalt figure of a priest (or idol) clothed in a human
skin; and additional evidence is yielded by a custom in
the neighbouring state of Yucatan, where " the bodies were
thrown down the steps, flayed, the priest put on the skins,
and danced, and the body was buried in the yard of the
temple."
Usually, however, the skin-trophy is relatively small : the
requirement being simply that it shall be one of which the
body yields no duplicate. The origin of it is well shown by
the following description of a practice among the Abipones.
They preserve the heads of enemies, and
" When apprehension of approaching hostilities obliges them to
remove to places of greater security, they strip the heads of the skin,
cutting it from ear to ear beneath the nose, and dexterously pulling it
off along with the hair. . . . That Abipon who has most of these
skins at home, excels the rest in military renown."
Evidently, however, the whole skin is not needful to prove
previous possession of a head. The part covering the
crown, distinguished from other parts by the arrangement
of its hairs, serves the purpose. Hence is suggested scalp
ing. Tales of Indian life have so far familiarized us with
this custom that examples are needless. But one piece of
evidence, supplied by the Shoshones, may be named; be
cause it clearly shows the use of the trophy as an accepted
evidence of victory — a kind of legal proof regarded as alone
conclusive. We read that
"Taking an enemy's scalp is an honour quite independent of the
act of vanquishing him. To kill your adversary is of no importance
unless the scalp is brought from the field of battle, and were a war
rior to slay any number of his enemies in action, and others were to
obtain the scalps, or first touch the dead, they would have all the
honours, since they have borne off the trophy."
Though we usually think of scalp-taking in connexion with
the North American Indians, yet it is not restricted to them.
Herodotus describes the Scythians as scalping their con
quered enemies; and at the present time the Nagas of the
Indian hills take scalps and preserve them.
44 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
Preservation of hair alone, as a trophy, is less general;
doubtless because the evidence of victory which it yields is
inconclusive: one head might supply hair for two trophies.
Still there are cases in which an enemy's hair is displayed
in proof of success in war. Speaking of a Naga, Grange
says his shield " was covered over with the hair of the foes
he had killed." The tunic of a Mandan chief is described
as " fringed with locks of hair taken by his own hand from
the heads of his enemies." And we read of the Cochimis
that " at certain festivals their sorcerers . . . wore long
robes of skin, ornamented with human hair."
§353. Among easily-transported parts carried home to
prove victory, may next be named hands and feet. By the
Mexican tribes, Ceris and Opatas, " the slain are scalped, or
a hand is cut off, and a dance performed round the trophies
on the field of battle." So, too, of the California Indians,
who also took scalps, we are told that " the yet more bar
barous habit of cutting off the hands, feet, or head of a fallen
enemy, as trophies of victory, prevailed more widely. They
also plucked out and carefully preserved the eyes of the
slain." Though this is not said, we may assume that either
the right or the left foot or hand was the trophy; since, in
the absence of any distinction, victory over two enemies in
stead of one might be alleged. In one case, indeed, I find
the distinction noted. " The right hands of the slain were
hung up by both parties [of hostile Khonds] on the trees
of the villages." Hands were trophies among ancient peo
ples of the old world also. The inscription on a tomb at El
Kab in Upper Egypt, tells how Aahmes, the son of Abuna,
the chief of the steersmen, " when he had won a hand [in
battle], he received the king's commendation, and the
golden necklace in token of his bravery ; " and a wTall-paint-
ing in the temple of Medinet Abou at Thebes, shows the
presentation of a heap of hands to the king.
This last instance introduces us to vet another kind of
TROPHIES. 45
trophy. Along with the heap of hands thus laid before the
king, there is represented a phallic heap; and an accom
panying inscription, narrating the victory of Meneptah I.
over the Libyans, besides mentioning the " cut hands of all
their auxiliaries," as being carried on donkeys following the
returning army, mentions these other trophies as taken
from men of the Libyan nation. And here a natural tran
sition brings us to trophies of an allied kind, the taking of
which, once common, has continued in the neighbourhood
of Egypt down to modern times. The great significance
of the account Bruce gives of a practice among the Abys-
sinians, must be my excuse for quoting part of it. He
says :—
' ' At the end of a day of battle, each chief is obliged to sit at the
door of his tent, and each of his followers who has slain a man, pre
sents himself in his turn, armed as in fight, with the bloody foreskin
of the man he has slain. ... If he has killed more than one man, so
many more times he returns. . . . After this ceremony is over, each
man takes his bloody conquest, and retires to prepare it in the same
manner the Indians do their scalps. . . . The whole army ... on a
particular day of review, throws them before the king, and leaves
them at the gate of the palace."
Llere it is noteworthy that the trophy, first serving to dem
onstrate a victory gained by the individual warrior, is
subsequently made an offering to the ruler, and further be
comes a means of recording the number slain : facts verified
by the more recent French traveller d'Hericourt. That
like purposes were similarly served among the Hebrews,
proof is yielded by the passage which narrates Saul's en
deavour to betray David when offering him Michal to wife :
— " And Saul said, Thus shall ye say to David, The king de-
sireth not any dowry, but an hundred foreskins of the
Philistines, to be avenged of the king's enemies; " and
David "slew of the Philistines two hundred men; and
David brought their foreskins, and gave them in full tale to
the king."
46 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
§ 354. Associated with the direct motive for taking
trophies there is an indirect motive, which probably aids
considerably in developing the custom. When treating of
primitive ideas, we saw that the imanalytical mind of the
savage thinks the qualities of any object beside in all its
parts; and that, among others, the qualities of human be
ings are thus conceived by him. From this wre found
there arise such customs as swallowing parts of the bodies
of dead relatives, or their ground bones in water, with the
view of inheriting their virtues; devouring the heart of a
slain brave to gain his courage, or his eyes in the expectation
of seeing further; avoiding the flesh of certain timid ani
mals, lest their timidity should be acquired. A
further implication of this belief that the spirit of each per
son is diffused throughout him, is, that possession of a part
of his body gives possession of a part of his spirit, and,
consequently, a power over his spirit: one corollary being
that anything done to a preserved part of a corpse is done to
the corresponding part of the ghost; and that thus a ghost
may be coerced by maltreating a relic. Hence, as before
pointed out (§ 133), the origin of sorcery; hence the rat
tle of dead men's bones so prevalent with primitive medi
cine-men ; hence " the powder ground from the bones of the
dead " used by the Peruvian necromancers; hence the por
tions of corpses which our own traditions of witchcraft name
as used in composing charms.
Besides proving victory over an enemy, the trophy there
fore serves for the subjugation of his ghost; and that pos
session of it is, at any rate in some cases, supposed to make
his ghost a slave, we have good evidence. The primitive
belief everywhere found, that the doubles of men and
animals slain at the grave, accompany the double of the
deceased, to serve him in the other world — the belief which
leads here to the immolation of wives, who are to manage
the future household of the departed, there to the sacrifice
of horses needed to carry him on his journey after death,
TROPHIES. 47
and elsewhere to the killing of dogs as guides; is a belief
which, in many places, initiates the kindred belief that, by
placing portions of bodies on his tomb, the men and animals
they belonged to are made subject to the deceased. We
are shown this by the bones of cattle, &c., with which graves
are in many cases decorated; by the placing on graves the
heads of enemies or slaves, as above indicated; and by a
like use of the scalp. Concerning the Osages, Mr. Tylor
cites the fact that they sometimes " plant on the cairn raised
over a corpse a pole with an enemy's scalp hanging to the
top. Their notion was that by taking an enemy arid sus
pending his scalp over the grave of a deceased friend, the
spirit of the victim became subjected to the spirit of the
buried warrior in the land of spirits." The Ojibways have
a like practice, of which a like idea is probably the cause.
§ 355. A collateral development of trophy-taking, which
eventually has a share in governmental regulation, must
not be forgotten. I refer to the display of parts of the bod
ies of criminals.
In our more advanced minds the enemy, the criminal,
and the slave, are well discriminated; but they are little
discriminated by the primitive man. Almost or quite
devoid as he is of the feelings and ideas we call moral —
holding by force whatever he owns, wresting from a wreaker
man the woman or other object he has possession of,
killing his own child without hesitation if it is an incum-
brance, or his wife if she offends him, and sometimes
proud of being a recognized killer of his fellow-tribesmen;
the savage has no distinct ideas of right and wrong in
the abstract. The immediate pleasures or pains they give
are his sole reasons for classing things and acts as good
or bad. Hence hostility, and the injuries he suffers from
it, excite in him the same feeling whether the aggressor
is without the tribe or within it: the enemy and the felon
are undistinguished. This confusion, now seeming
48 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
strange to us, we shall understand better on remembering
that even in .early stages of civilized nations, the family-
groups which formed the units of the national group, were
in large measure independent communities, standing to
one another on terms much like those on which the nation
stood to other nations. They had their small blood-feuds
as the nation had its great blood-feuds. Each family-group
wras responsible to other family-groups for the acts of
its members, as each nation to other nations for the acts of
its citizens. Vengeance was taken on innocent members
of a sinning family, as vengeance was taken on innocent
citizens of a sinning nation. And thus in various ways the
inter-family aggressor (answering to the modern criminal),
stood in a like relative position with the inter-national
aggressor. Hence the naturalness of the fact that
he was similarly treated. Already we have seen how, in
mediaeval days, the heads of destroyed family-enemies (mur
derers of its members or stealers of its property) were ex
hibited as trophies. And since Stfabo, writing of the Gauls
and other northern peoples, says that the heads of foes slain
in battle were brought back and sometimes nailed to the
chief door of the house, while, up to the time of the Salic
law, the heads of slain private foes were fixed on stakes in
front of it ; we have evidence that identification of the pub
lic and the private foe was associated with the practice of
taking trophies from them both. A kindred alliance is
traceable in the usages of the Jews. Along with the slain
Eleanor's head, Judas orders that his hand be cut off; and
he brings both with him to Jerusalem as trophies : the hand
being that which he had stretched out in blasphemous
boasts. And this treatment of the transgressor who is an
alien, is paralleled in the treatment of non-alien transgress
ors by David, who, besides hanging up the corpses of the
men who had slain Ishbosheth, " cut off their hands and
their feet."
It may, then, be reasonably inferred that display of
TROPHIES. 49
executed felons on gibbets, or their heads on spikes,
originates from the bringing back of trophies taken from
slain enemies. Though usually a part only of the slain
enemy is fixed up, yet sometimes the whole body is; as
when the dead Saul, minus his head, was fastened by the
Philistines to the wall of Bethshan. And that fixing up a
felon's body is more frequent, probably arises from the fact
that it has not to be brought from a great distance, as
would usually have to be the body of an enemy.
§ 356. Though no direct connexion exists between
trophy-taking and ceremonial government, the foregoing
facts reveal such indirect connexions as to make it needful to
note the custom. It enters as a factor into the three forms
of control — social, political, and religious.
If, in primitive states, men are honoured according to
their prowess — if their prowess is estimated here by the
number of heads they can show, there by the number of
jaw-bones, and elsewhere by the number of scalps, — if such
trophies are treasured up for generations, and the pride of
families is proportioned to the number of them taken by
ancestors — if of the Gauls in the time of Posidonius, we
read that " the heads of their enemies that were the chiefest
persons of quality, they carefully deposit in chests, em
balming them with the oil of cedars, showing them to
strangers, glory and boast " that they or their forefathers
had refused great sums of money for them ; then, obviously,
a kind of class distinction is initiated by trophies. On
reading that in some places a man's rank varies with the
quantity of bones in or upon his dwelling, we cannot deny
that the display of these proofs of personal superiority,
originates a regulative influence in social intercourse.
As political control evolves, trophy-taking becomes in
several ways instrumental to the maintenance of authority.
Beyond the awe felt for the chief whose many trophies
show his powers of destruction, there comes the greater
50 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
awe which, on growing into a king with subordinate chiefs
and dependent tribes, he excites by accumulating the tro
phies others take on his behalf; rising into dread when he
exhibits in numbers the relics of slain rulers. As the prac
tice assumes this developed form, the receipt of such vicari
ously-taken trophies passes into a political ceremony. The
heap of hands laid before an ancient Egyptian king, served
to propitiate; as now serves the mass of jawbones sent by an
Ashantee captain to the court. When we read of Timour's
soldiers that " their cruelty was enforced by the peremptory
command of producing an adequate number of heads," we
are conclusively shown that the presentation of trophies
hardens into a form expressing obedience. Nor is it thus
only that a political effect results. There is the govern
mental restraint produced by fixing up the bodies or heads
of the insubordinate and the felonious.
Though offering part of a slain enemy to propitiate a
ghost, does not enter into what is commonly called religious
ceremonial, yet it obviously so enters when the aim is to
propitiate a god developed from an ancestral ghost. We
are shown the transition by such a fact as that in a battle
between two tribes of Khoncls, the first man who " slew his
opponent, struck off his right arm and rushed with it to the
priest in the rear, wrho bore it off as an offering to Laha
Pennoo in his grave: " Laha Pennoo being their " God of
Arms." Joining with this such other facts as that before the
Tahitian god Oro, human immolations were frequent, and
the preserved relics were built into walls " formed entirely
of human skulls," which were " principally, if not entirely
the skulls of those slain in battle; " we are shown that gods
are worshipped by bringing to them, and accumulat
ing round their shrines, these portions of enemies killed
—killed, very often, in fulfilment of their supposed com
mands. This inference is verified on seeing similar
ly used other kinds of spoils. The Philistines, besides
otherwise displaying relics of the dead Saul, put " his
TROPHIES. 51
armour in the house of Ashtaroth." By the Greeks the
trophy f orrned of arms, shields, and helmets taken from the
defeated, was consecrated to some divinity; and the Romans
deposited the spoils of battle in the temple of Jupiter
Capitolinus. Similarly among the Fijians, who are solicit
ous in every way to propitiate their blood-thirsty deities,
" when flags are taken they are always hung up as trophies
in the mbure" or temple. That hundreds of gilt spurs of
French knights vanquished by the Flemish in the battle of
Courtrai, were deposited in the church of that place, and
that in France flags taken from enemies were suspended
from the vaults of cathedrals (a practice not unknown in
Protestant England), are facts which might be joined with
these, did not joining them imply the impossible supposition
that Christians think to please " the God of love " by acts
like those used to please the diabolical gods of cannibals.
Because of inferences to be hereafter drawn, one remain
ing general truth must be named, though it is so obvious
as to seem scarcely worth mention. Trophy-taking is di
rectly related to militancy. It begins during a primitive
life that is wholly occupied in fighting men and animals; it
develops with the growth of conquering societies in which
perpetual wars generate the militant type of structure; it
diminishes as growing industrialism more arid more substi
tutes productive activities for destructive activities; and
complete industrialism necessitates entire cessation of it.
The chief significance of trophy-taking, however, has
yet to be pointed out. The reason for here dealing with it,
though in itself scarcely to be classed as a ceremony, is that
it furnishes us with the key to numerous ceremonies pre
vailing all over the world among the uncivilized and semi-
civilized. From the practice of cutting off and taking away
portions of the dead body, there grows up the practice of
cutting off portions of the living body.
CHAPTEE III.
MUTILATIONS.
§ 357. Facility of exposition will be gained by ap
proaching indirectly the facts and conclusions here to be
set forth.
The ancient ceremony of infeftment in Scotland was
completed thus: — " He [superior's attorney] would stoop
down, and, lifting a stone and a handful of earth, hand
these over to the new vassal's attorney, thereby conferring
upon him ' real, actual, and corporal ' possession of the
fief." Among a distant slightly-civilized people, a parallel
usage occurs. On selling his cultivated plot, a Khond.
having invoked the village deity to bear witness to the sale,
" then delivers a handful of soil to the purchaser." From
cases where the transfer of lands for a consideration is thus
expressed, we may pass to cases where lands are by a simi
lar form surrendered to show political submission. When
the Athenians applied for help against the Spartans,
after the attack of Kleomenes, a confession of subordination
was demanded in return for the protection asked; and the
confession was made by sending earth and water. A like
act has a like meaning in Fiji. " The soro with a basket of
earth ... is generally connected with war, and is pre
sented by the weaker party, indicating the yielding up of
their land to the conquerors." And so is it in India. When
some ten years ago, Tu-wen-hsin sent his " Panthay " mis
sion to England, " they carried with them pieces of rock
52
MUTILATIONS. 53
hewn from the four corners of the [Tali] mountain, as the
most formal expression of his desire to become feudatory
tc the British Crown. "
This giving a part instead of giving the whole, where
the whole cannot be mechanically handed over, will perhaps
be instanced as a symbolic ceremony; though, even in the
absence of any further interpretation, \ve may say that it
approaches as nearly to actual transfer as the nature of the
case permits. We are not, however, obliged to regard
this ceremony as artificially devised. We may affiliate it
upon a simpler ceremony which at once elucidates it, and
is elucidated by it. I refer to surrendering a part of the
body as implying surrender of the whole. In Fiji, tribu
taries approaching their masters were told by a messenger
" that they must all cut off their tobe (locks of hair that
are left like tails). . . They all docked their tails." Still,
it may be replied that this act, too, is a symbolic act — an
act artificially devised rather than naturally derived. If
we .carry our inquiry a step back, however, we shall find a
clue to its natural derivation.
First, let us remember the honour which accrues from
accumulated trophies; so that, among the Shoshones for
instance, " he who takes the most scalps gains the most
glory." Let us join with this Bancroft's statement
respecting the treatment of prisoners by the Chichimecs,
that " often they were scalped while yet alive, and the
bloody trophy placed upon the heads of their tormentors."
And then let us ask what happens if the scalped enemy sur
vives. The captor preserves the scalp as an addition to his
other trophies; the vanquished enemy becomes his slave;
and he is shown to be a slave by the loss of his scalp.
Here, then, are the beginnings of a custom that may be
come established when social conditions make it advanta
geous to keep conquered foes as servants instead of eating
them. The conservative savage changes as little as possi
ble. While the new practice of enslaving the captured
62
54: CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
arises, the old practice of cutting from their bodies such
parts as serve for trophies continues; and the marks left
become marks of subjugation. Gradually as the receipt
of such marks comes to imply bondage, not only will those
taken in war be marked, but also those born to them;
until at length the bearing of the mark shows subordination
in general.
That submission to mutilation may eventually grow into
the sealing of an agreement to be bondsmen, is shown us
by Hebrew history. " Then J^ahash the Ammonite came
up, and encamped against Jabesh-gilead : and all the men
of Jabesh said unto Xahash, Make a covenant with us,
and we will serve thee. And i^ahash the Ammonite an
swered them, On this condition will I make a covenant
with you, that I may thrust out all your right eyes.'7 They
agreed to become subjects, and the mutilation (not in this
case consented to, however) was to mark their subjection.
And while mutilations thus serve, like the brands a farmer
puts on his sheep, to show first private ownership and
afterwards political ownership, they also serve as perpetual
reminders of the ruler's power: so keeping alive the dread
that brings obedience. This fact we see in the statement
that when the second Basil deprived fifteen thousand Bul
garian captives of sight, " the nation was awed by this terri
ble example."
Just adding that the bearing of a mutilation, thus be
coming the mark of a subject race, survives as a token of
submission when the trophy-taking which originated it has
disappeared; let us now note the different kinds of mutila
tions, and the ways in which they severally enter into the
three forms of control — political, religious, and social.
§ 358. When the Araucanians on going to war send
messengers summoning confederate tribes, these messengers
carry certain arrows as their credentials; and, " if hostilities
are actually commenced, the finger, or (as Algedo will have
MUTILATIONS. 55
it) the hand of a slain enemy, is joined to the arrows "•
another instance, added to those already given, in which
hands, or parts of them, are brought home to show victory.
We have proof that in some cases living vanquished
men, made hand! ess by this kind of trophy-taking, are
brought back from battle. King Osymandyas reduced the
revolted Bactrians; and as shown " on the second wall " of
the monument to him " the prisoners are brought forward:
they are without their hands and members." But though a
conquered enemy may have one of his hands taken as a
trophy without much endangering his life, loss of a hand so
greatly diminishes his value as a slave, that some other
trophy is naturally preferred.
The like cannot, however, be said of a finger. That
fingers are sometimes carried home as trophies we have just
seen; and that conquered enemies, mutilated by loss of fin
gers, are sometimes allowed to live as slaves, the Bible
yields proof. In Judges i. 6, 7, we read: — " Adoni-bezek
[the Canaanite] fled; and they pursued after him, and
caught him, and cut off his thumbs and his great toes. And
Adoni-bezek said, Threescore and ten kings, having their
thumbs and their great toes cut off, gathered their meat
under my table: as I have done, so God hath requited me."
Hence, then, the fact that fingers are, in various places, cut
off and offered in propitiation of living rulers, in propitiation
of dead rulers, and in propitiation of dead relatives. The
sanguinary Fijians, extreme in their loyalty to cannibal
despots, yield sundry illustrations. Describing the se
quence of an alleged insult, Williams says: — " A messenger
was . . . sent to the chief of the offender to demand an
explanation, which was forthwith given, together with the
fingers of four persons, to appease the angry chieftain."
On the occasion of a chief's death, " orders were issued that
one hundred fingers should be cut off; but only sixty were
amputated, one woman losing her life in consequence."
Once more, a child's hand " was covered with blood, which
56 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
flowed from the stump where, shortly before, his little finger
had been cut off, as a token of affection for his deceased fath
er." This propitiation of the dead by offering fingers,
or parts of them, occurs elsewhere. When, among the
Charruas, the head of the family died, " the daughters,
widow, and married sisters were obliged to have, each one
joint from the finger cut off; and this was repeated for
every relation of the like character who died: the primary
amputation being from the little finger." By the Manclans,
the usual mode of expressing grief on the death of a relation
" was to lose two joints of the little fingers, or sometimes
the other fingers." A like custom was found among the
Dacotahs and various other American tribes. Sacrificed
in this way to the ghost of the dead relative, or the dead
chief, to express that subjection which would have pacified
him while alive, the amputated finger becomes, in other
cases, a sacrifice to the expanded ghost or god. During his
initiation the Mandan warrior, " holding up the little finger
of his left hand to the Great Spirit, he expresses to Him, in
a speech of a few words, his willingness to give it as a sacri
fice; when he lays it on the dried buffalo skull, where the
other chops it off near the hand with a blow of the hatchet."
And the natives of Tonga cut off a portion of the little fin
ger as a sacrifice to the gods, for the recovery of a superior
sick relative.
Originally expressing submission to powerful beings
alive and dead, this mutilation in some cases becomes, appar
ently, a mark of domestic subordination. The Australians
have a custom of cutting off the last joint of the little finger
of females; and a Hottentot " widow, who marries a second
time, must have the top joint of a finger cut off, and loses
another joint for the third, and so on for each time that she
enters into wedlock."
As showing the way in which these propitiatory mutila
tions of the hands are made so as to interfere least with
usefulness, it may be noted that habitually they begin with
MUTILATIONS. 57
the last joint of the little finger, and affect the more impor
tant parts of the hand only if they recur. And where, by
amputating the hand, there is repeated in full the original
mutilation of slain enemies, it is where the usefulness of the
subject persons not a consideration, but where the treat
ment of the external enemy is extended to the internal
enemy — the criminal. The Hebrews made the loss of a
hand a punishment for one kind of offence, as shown in
Deuteronomy, xxv. 11, 12. In ancient Egypt, forgers and
other falsifiers lost both hands. Of a. Japanese political
transgressor it is said — " His hands were ordered to be
struck off, which in Japan is the very extremity of dishon
our." In mediaeval Europe hands were cut off for various
offences.
§ 359. Recent accounts from the East prove that some
of the vanquished deprived of their noses by their conquer
ors, survive ; and those who do so, remain identifiable there
after as conquered men. Consequently, lack of a nose may
become the mark of a slave ; and in some cases it does this.
Certain of the ancient Central Americans challenged neigh
bouring peoples when " they wanted slaves; if the other
party did not accept of the challenge, they ravaged their
country and cut off the noses of the slaves." And, describ
ing a war carried on during his captivity in Ashantee, Ram
sey er says the Ashantees spared one prisoner, " whose head
was shaved, nose and ears cut off, and himself made to
carry the king's drum."
Along with loss of nose occurs, in the last case, loss of
ears. This is similarly interpretable as having originated
from trophy-taking, and having in some cases survived, if
not as a mark of ordinary slavery, still, as a mark of that
other slavery which is a punishment for crime. In ancient
Mexico " he who told a lie to the particular prejudice of
another had a part of his lip cut off, and sometimes his
ears." Among the Honduras people a thief had his goods
58 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
confiscated, " and, if the theft was very great, they cut off
his ears and hands.'7 A law of an adjacent people, the
Miztecs, directed the " cutting off of an adulterer's ears,
nose, or lips; " and by some of the Zapotecas, " women con
victed of adultery had their ears and noses cut off."
But though absence of ears seems more generally to have
marked a criminal than a vanquished enemy who had sur
vived the taking of his ears as trophies, we may suspect
that originally it was a trait of an enslaved captive; and
that by mitigation, it gave rise to the method of marking a
slave that was used by the Hebrews, and still continues in
the East with a modified meaning. In Exodus xxi. 5, 6, we
read that if, after his six years' service, a purchased slave
does not wish to be free, his master shall " bring him to the
door, or unto the door-post, and his master shall bore his
ear through with an awl, and he shall serve him for ever."
Commenting on this ceremony Knobel says: — " In the mod
ern East, the symbol of piercing the ears is mentioned as
the mark of those who are dedicated. ... It expresses the
belonging to somebody." And since where there grows up
unqualified despotism, private slavery is joined with public
slavery, and the accepted theory is that all subjects are the
property of the ruler, we may suspect that there hence
results in some cases the universality of this mutilation.
" All the Burmese without exception have the custom of
boring their ears. The day when the operation is per
formed is kept as a festival ; for this custom holds, in their
estimation, something of the rank that baptism has in ours."
As indirect evidence, I may add the curious fact that the
Gond holds " his ears in his hands in token of submission."
A related usage must be noted : the insertion of a ring in
the nose. Commenting on this as exemplified by some
women of Astrachan, Bell says — " I was told that it was
the consequence of a religious dedication of these persons
to the service of God." Now read the following passage
from Isaiah about Sennacherib : — " This is the word that
MUTILATIONS. 59
the Lord hath spoken concerning him. . . I will put my
hook in thy nose, and my bridle in thy lips." And then
add the fact that in Assyrian sculptures are represented
prisoners being led by cords attached to rings through their
noses. Do we not see a kindred filiation — conquest, inci
dental marking of the captive, survival of the mark as
distinguishing subject persons?
§ 360. Jaws can be taken only from those whose lives
are taken. There are the teeth, however: some of these
may be extracted as trophies without seriously decreasing
the usefulness of the prisoner. Hence another form of
mutilation.
We have seen that teeth of slain foes are worn in
Ashantee and in South America. J^ow if teeth are taken
as trophies from captives who are preserved as slaves, loss
of them must become a mark of subjection. Of facts
directly showing that a propitiatory ceremony hence arises
I can name but one. Among mutilations undergone when
a king or chief dies in the Sandwich Islands, Ellis names
knocking out one of the front teeth: an alternative being
cutting the ears. When we further read in Cook that the
Sandwich Islanders knock out from one to four of the front
teeth, showing that the whole population becomes marked
by these repeated mutilations suffered to propitiate the
ghosts of dead rulers — when we infer that in propitiation of
a much-dreaded ruler deified after death, not only those
who knew him may submit to this loss, but also their chil
dren subsequently born ; we see how the practice, becoming
established, may survive as a sacred custom when its mean
ing is lost. For concluding that the practice has this
sacramental nature, there are the further reasons derived
from the fixing of the age for the operation, and from the
character of the operator. In ]STew South Wales it is the
Koradger men, or priests, who perform the ceremony; and
of a semi-domesticated Australian, Ilaygarth writes that he
60 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
said one day, " with a look of importance, that he must go
away for a few days, as he had grown up to man's estate,
and k it was high time that he should have his teeth knocked
out.' ' Various African races, as the Batoka, the Dor,
similarly lose two or more of their front teeth; and
habitually the loss of them is an obligatory rite. But the
best evidence is furnished by the ancient Peruvians.
A tradition among certain of them was that the conqueror
Huayna Ccapac, finding them disobedient, " made a law
that they and their descendants should have three of their
front teeth pulled out in each jaw." Another tradition,
naturally derivable from the last, was that this extraction of
teeth by fathers from their children was a " service very
acceptable to their gods." And then, as happens with
other mutilations of which the meaning has dropped out of
memory, the improvement of the appearance was in some
parts the assigned motive.
§ 361. As the transition from eating conquered enemies
to making slaves of them, mitigates trophy-taking so as to
avoid causing death; and as the tendency is to modify the
injury inflicted so that it shall in the least degree diminish
the slave's usefulness; and as, with the rise of a class born
in slavery, the mark which the slave bears, no longer show
ing that he was taken in war, does not imply a victory
achieved by his owner; there eventually remains no rea
son for a mark which involves serious mutilation. Hence
it is inferable that mutilations of the least injurious kinds
will become the commonest. Such, at any rate, seems a
reasonable explanation of the fact that cutting off of hair
is the most prevalent mutilation.
Already we have seen the probable origin of the custom
in Fiji, where tributaries had to sacrifice their locks on
approaching their great chiefs; and there is evidence that a
kindred sacrifice was demanded of old in Britain. In the
Arthurian legends, which, unhistoric as they may be, yield
MUTILATIONS. 61
good evidence respecting the manners of the times from
which they descend, we read, " Then wrent Arthur to Caer-
leon; and thither came messengers from King Ryons, who
said, ' Eleven kings have done me homage, and with their
beards I have trimmed a mantle. Send me now thy beard,
for there lacks yet one to the finishing of my mantle.' '
Reasons exist for the belief that taking an enslaved
captive's hair, began with the smallest practicable diver
gence from taking the dead enemy's scalp; for the part of
the hair in some cases given in propitiation, and in other
cases worn subject to a master's ownership, answers in posi
tion to the scalp-lock. The tobe yielded np by the tributary
Fijians was a kind of pigtail: the implication being that
this could be demanded by, and therefore belonged to, the
superior. Moreover, among the Kalmucks,
"When one pulls another by the pigtail, or actually tears it out,
this is regarded as a punishable offence, because the pigtail is thought
to belong to the chief, or to be a sign of subjection to him. If it is
the short hair on the top of the head that has been subjected to such
treatment, it does not constitute a punishable offence, because this is
considered the man's own hair and not that of the chief."
And then I may add the statement of Williams, that the
Tartar conquerors of China ordered the Chinese " to adopt
the national Tartar mode of shaving the front of the head,
and braiding the hair in a long queue, as a sign of sub
mission." Another fact presently to be given joins with
these in suggesting that a vanquished man, not killed but
kept as a slave, wore his scalp-lock on sufferance.
Be this as it may, however, the widely-prevalent custom
of taking the hair of the conquered, either with or without
part of the skin, has nearly everywhere resulted in the asso
ciation between short hair and slavery. This association
existed among both Greeks and Romans: "the slaves
had their hair cut short as a mark of servitude." We
find it the same throughout America. " Socially the slave
is despised, his hair is cut short," says Bancroft of the
62 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
Nootkas; and " the privilege of wearing long hair was rig
orously denied " to Carib slaves and captives. The slavery
that punished criminality was similarly marked. In Nica
ragua, " a chief had his hair cut off and became a slave to
the person that had been robbed till he was satisfied."
Naturally, infliction of the slave-badge grew into a punish
ment. By the Central Americans a suspected adulterer
" was stripped and his hair was cut." One ancient
Mexican penalty " was to have the hair cut at some public
place." And during mediseval times in Europe cutting of
hair was a punishment. Of course, by contrast,
long hair became a distinction. If among the Chibchas
" the greatest affront that could be put on a man or a woman
was to have their hair cropped," the assimilation to slaves in
appearance was the reason: the honourableness of long
hair being an implication. " The Itzaex Indians," says
Fancourt, " wore their hair as long as it would grow; in
deed, it is a most difficult thing to bring the Indians to cut
their hair." Long hair shows rank among the Tongans:
none are permitted to wear it but the principal people.
Similarly with the New Caledonians and various others of
the uncivilized; and similarly with semi-civilized Orien
tals: " the Ottoman princes have their beard shaved off to
show that they are dependent on the favour of the reigning
emperor." By the Greeks, " in manhood, . . . hair was
worn longer," and " a certain political significancy was
attached to the hair." In Northern Europe, too, " among
the Franks . . . the serfs wore the hair less long and
less carefully dressed than freemen," and the freemen
less long than the nobles. " The hair of the Frank kings
is sacred. ... It is for them a mark and honourable
prerogative of the royal race." Clothair and Childebert,
wishing to divide their brother's kingdom, consulted re
specting their nephews, " whether to cut off their hair so as
to reduce them to the rank of subjects, or to kill them." I
may add the extreme case of the Japanese Mikado.
MUTILATIONS. 63
" Neither his hair, beard, nor nails are ever [avowedly]
cut, so that his sacred person may not be mutilated: " such
cutting as occurs being done while he is supposed to sleep.
A parallel marking of divine rank may be noted in pass
ing. Length of hair being significant of terrestrial dignity
becomes significant, too, of celestial dignity. The gods
of various peoples, and especially the great gods, are distin
guished by their flowing beards and long locks.
Domestic subordination also, in many cases goes along
with short hair. Under low social conditions, females com
monly bear this badge of slavery. In Samoa the women
wear the hair short while the men wear it long ; and among
other Malayo-Polynesians, as the Tahitians and New Zea-
landers, the like contrast occurs. Similarly with the Ne
grito races. " In New Caledonia the chiefs and influential
men wear their hair long. . . . The women all crop theirs
close to the very ears." Cropped heads in like manner dis
tinguish the women of Tanna, of Lifu, of Vate, and those of
Tasmania. A kindred mode of signifying filial
subjection has existed. Sacrifice of hair once formed part
of the ceremony of adoption in Europe. " Charles Martel
sent Pepin, his son, to Luithprand, king of the Lombards,
that he might cut his first locks, and by this ceremony hold
for the future the place of his father; " and Clovis, to make
peace with Alaric, proposed to become his adopted son, by
offering his beard to be cut by him.
This mutilation simultaneously came to imply subjec
tion to dead persons. How yielding up hair to the dead is
originally akin to yielding up a trophy, is well shown by the
Dacotahs. " The men shave the hair off their heads, except
a small tuft on the top [the scalp-lock], which they suffer
to grow and wear in plaits over the shoulders: the loss of
it is the usual sacrifice at the death of near relations." That
is, they go as near as may be to surrendering their scalps
to the dead. The meaning is again seen in the account
given of the Caribs. " As their hair thus constituted their
64 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
chief pride, it was an unequivocal proof of the sincerity of
their sorrow, when, on the death of a relation or friend,
they cut it short like their slaves and captives.'7 Every
where the uncivilized have kindred forms. 2\"or was it
otherwise with the ancient historic races. By the Hebrews
making " baldness upon their heads " was practised as a
funeral rite, as was also shaving off u the corner of their
beard." Among Greeks and Romans, " the hair was cut
close in mourning." In Greece the meaning of this mutila
tion was recognized. Potter remarks, — " we find Electra
in Euripides finding fault with Helena for sparing her
locks, and thereby defrauding the dead; " and he cites the
statement that this sacrifice of hair (sometimes laid upon the
grave) was " partly to render the ghost of the deceased
person propitious." A significant addition must be made.
" Eor a recent death, the mourner's head was shaved; for
an offering to the long dead, a single lock was cut off."
Naturally if, from propitiation of the dead, some of
whom become deities, there grows up religious propitiation,
the offering of hair may be expected to re-appear as a re
ligious ceremony ; and we find that it does so. Already, in
the just-named fact that besides the hair sacrificed at a
Greek funeral, smaller sacrifices of hair were made after
wards, we see the rise of that recurring propitiation charac
terizing worship of a deity. And when wre further read
that among the Greeks " on the death of any very popular
personage, as a general, it sometimes happened that all the
army cut off their hair," we are shown a step towards that
propitiation by unrelated members of the community at
large, which, when it becomes established, is a trait of re
ligious worship. Hence certain Greek ceremonies. ( The
cutting off of the hair, which was always done when a boy
became an e<£?;/3o9, was a solemn act, atttended with religious
ceremonies . . . and the hair after being cut off was
dedicated to some deity, usually a river-god." So, too, at
the first shaving among the Romans: " the hair cut off on
MUTILATIONS. 65
such occasions was consecrated to some god." Sacrifice of
hair was an act of worship with the Hebrews also. We are
told of " fourscore men, having their beards shaven, and
their clothes rent, and having cut themselves, with offerings
and incense in their hand, to bring them to the house of the
Lord; " and Krehl gives sundry kindred facts concerning
the Arabians. Curious modifications of the practice oc
curred in ancient Peru. Small sacrifices of hair were con
tinual. " Another offering," writes d'Acosta, is " pulling
out the eye-lashes or eye-brows and presenting them to the
sun, the hills, the combles, the winds, or whatever they are
in fear of." " On entering the temples, or when they were
already within them, they put their hands to their eyebrows
as if they would pull out the hairs, and then made a motion
as if they were blowing them towards the idol; " a good in
stance of the abridgment which ceremonies habitually un
dergo.
One further development remains. This kind of sacri
fice becomes in some cases a social propitiation. Wreaths of
their own hair plaited, were bestowed upon others as marks
of consideration by the Taliitians. In France in the fifth
and sixth centuries, it was usual to pluck out a few hairs
from the beard on approaching a superior, and present
them; and this usage was occasionally adopted as a mark
of condescension by a ruler, as when Clovis, gratified by
the visit of the Bishop of Toulouse, gave him a hair from
his beard, and was imitated in so doing by his followers.
Afterwards the usage had its meaning obscured by abridg
ment. In the times of chivalry one mode of showing re
spect was to tug at the moustache.
§ 362. Already, when treating of trophies, and when
finding that those of the phallic class, major and minor, had
the same meanings as the rest, the way was opened to
explain the mutilations next to be dealt with. We have
seen that when the vanquished were not killed but enslaved,
66 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
it became imperative that the taking of trophies from them
should neither endanger life nor be highly injurious; and
that hence instead of jaws, teeth were taken; instead of
hands, fingers; instead of scalps, hair. Similarly in this
case, the fatal or dangerous mutilation disappearing, left
only such allied mutilation as did not seriously or at all de
crease the value of the enemy as a servant.
That castration was initiated by trophy-taking I find no
direct proof; but there is direct proof that prisoners are
sometimes treated in a way which trophy-taking of the
implied kind would entail. The ancient Persians used to
castrate the young men and boys of their vanquished
enemies. Of Theobald, Marquis of Spoleto, we read in
Gibbon that " his captives . . . were castrated without
mercy." For thinking that there was once an enforced
sacrifice of the nature indicated, made to a conqueror, there
is the further reason that we find a parallel sacrifice made to
a deity. At the annual festivals of the Phrygian goddess
Amma [Agdistis], " it was the custom for young men to
make themselves eunuchs with a sharp shell, crying out at
the same time, ' Take this, Agdistis.' ' There was a like
practice among the Phoenicians; and Brinton names a
severe self -mutilation of the ancient Mexican priests, which
seems to have included this. Coming in the way shown to
imply subordination, this usage, like many ceremonial
usages, has in some cases survived where its meaning is
lost. The Hottentots enforce semi-castration at about
eight or nine years of age; and a kindred custom exists
among the Australians.
Naturally, of this class of mutilations, the less serious is
the more prevalent. Circumcision occurs among unallied
races in all parts of the world — among the Malayo-Poly-
ncsians in Tahiti, in Tonga, in Madagascar; among the
Negritos of New Caledonia and Fiji; among African
peoples, both of the coast and the interior, from northern
Abyssinia to southern Kaffir-land; in America, among some
MUTILATIONS. 67
Mexican peoples, the Yucatanese, and the people of Sari
Salvador; and we meet with it again in Australia. Even
apart from the fact that their monuments show the
Egyptians practiced it from early times, and even apart
from the evidence that it prevailed among Arab peoples at
large, these proofs that circumcision is not limited to region
or race, sufficiently dispose of the current theological
interpretation. They sufficiently dispose, too, of another
interpretation not uncommonly given; for a general sur
vey of the facts shows us that while the usage does not pre
vail among the most cleanly races in the world, it is common
among the most uncleanly races. Contrariwise, the facts
taken in the mass are congruous with the general theory
thus far verified.
It was shown that among the Abyssinians the trophy
taken by circumcision from an enemy's dead body, is
presented by each warrior to his chief; and that all such
trophies taken after a battle are eventually presented
to the king. If the vanquished enemies instead of being
killed are made slaves; and if the warriors who have
vanquished them continue to present the usual proofs
of their prowess; there must arise the circumcision of
living captives, who thereby become marked as subjugated
persons. A further result is obvious. As the chief and
the king are propitiated by bringing them these trophies
taken from their foes; and as the primitive belief is that a
dead man's ghost is pleased by whatever pleased the man
when alive; there will naturally follow a presentation of
such trophies to the ghost of the departed ruler. And then
in a highly militant society governed by a divinely-
descended despot, who requires all his subjects to bear this
badge of servitude, and who, dying, has his dreaded ghost
anxiously propitiated ; we may expect that the presentation
to the king of these trophies taken from enslaved enemies,
will develop into the offering to the god of like trophies
taken from each generation of male citizens in acknowledg-
68 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
ment of their slavery to him. Hence, when Movers says
that among the Phoenicians circumcision was " a sign of
consecration to Saturn/' and when proof is given that of
old the people of San Salvador circumcised " in the Jewish
manner, offering the blood to an idol/' we are shown just
the result to be anticipated as eventually arising.
That this interpretation applies to the custom as made
known in the Bible, is clear. We have already seen that
the ancient Hebrews, like the modern Abyssinians, prac
tised the form of trophy-taking which necessitates this mu
tilation of the dead enemy ; and as in the one case, so in the
other, it follows that the vanquished enemy not slain but
made prisoner, will by this mutilation be marked as a subject
person. That circumcision was among the Hebrews the
stamp of subjection, all the evidence proves. On learning
that among existing Bedouins, the only conception of God
is that of a powerful living ruler, the sealing by circumcision
of the covenant between God and Abraham becomes a
comprehensible ceremony. There is furnished an explana
tion of the fact that in consideration of a territory to be re
ceived, this mutilation, undergone by Abraham, implied
that " the Lord " was " to be a god unto " him; as also of
the fact that the mark was to be borne not by him and his
descendants only, as favoured individuals, but also by slaves
not of his blood. And on remembering that by primitive
peoples the returning double of the dead potentate is
believed to be indistinguishable from the living potentate,
we get an interpretation of the strange tradition concerning
God's anger with Moses for not circumcising his son:—
" And it came to pass by the way in the inn, that the Lord
met Moses, and sought to kill him. Then Zipporah took a
sharp stone, and cut off the foreskin of her son, and cast it
at his feet." There are further proofs that circumcision
among the Jews was a mark of subordination to Jahveh.
Under the foreign ruler Antiochus, who brought in foreign
gods, circumcision was forbidden; and those who, persever-
MUTILATIONS. 69
ing in it, refused obedience to these foreign gods, were slain.
On the other hand, Mattathias and his friends, rebelling
against foreign rule and worship, are said to have gone
" round about, and pulled down the altars : and what chil
dren soever they found within the coast of Israel uncircum-
cised, those they circumcised valiantly." Moreover Hyr-
canus, having subdued the Idumeans, made them submit
to circumcision; and Aristobulus similarly imposed the
mark on the conquered people of Iturea.
Quite congruous are certain converse facts. Tooitonga
(the great divine chief of Tonga) is not circumcised, as all
the other men are ; being unsubordinated, he does not bear
the badge of subordination. And with this I may join a
case in which whole tribes belonging to a race ordinarily
practising circumcision, are uncircumcised where they are
unsubordinated. Naming some wild Berbers in Morocco
as thus distinguished, Rohlfs says, " these uncircumcised
tribes inhabit the Rif mountains. . . . All the Rif moun
taineers eat wild boar, in spite of the Koran law."
§ 363. Besides mutilations entailing some loss of flesh,
bone, skin, or hair, there are mutilations which do not
imply a deduction; at least — not a permanent one. Of
these we may take first, one which sacrifices a liquid part
of the body though not a solid part.
Bleeding as a mutilation has an origin akin to the origins
of other mutilations. Did we not find that some uncivil
ized tribes, as the Samoyedes, drink the warm blood of
animals — did we not find among existing cannibals, such as
the Fijians, proofs that savages drink the blood of still-
living human victims; it would seem incredible that from
taking the blood of a vanquished enemy was derived the
ceremony of offering blood to a ghost and to a god. But
when to accounts of horrors like these we join accounts of
kindred ones which savages commit, such as that among
the Amaponda Kaffirs " it is usual for the ruling chief, on
63
YO CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
his accession to the government, to be washed in the blood
of a near relative, generally a brother, who is put to death
on the occasion; " and when we infer that before civilization
arose the sanguinary tastes and usages now exceptional
were probably general; we may suspect that from the
drinking of blood by conquering cannibals there arose some
kinds of blood-offerings — at any rate, offerings of blood
taken from immolated victims. Possibly some offerings of
blood from the bodies of living persons are to be thus ac
counted for. But those which are not, are explicable as
arising from the practice of establishing a sacred bond be
tween living persons by partaking of each other's blood : the
derived conception being that those who give some of their
blood to the ghost of a man just dead and lingering near,
effect with it a union which on the one side implies sub
mission, and on the other side friendliness.
On this hypothesis we have a reason for the prevalence of
self-bleeding as a funeral rite, not among existing savages
only, but among ancient and partially-civilized peoples —
the Jews, the Greeks, the Huns, the Turks. We are
shown IIOAV there arise kindred rites as permanent pro
pitiations of those more dreaded ghosts which become gods
— such offerings of blood, now from their own bodies and
now from their infants' bodies, as those which the Mexicans
gave their idols; such offerings as were implied by the
self-gashings of the priests of Baal; and such as were
sometimes made even in propitiating Jahveh, as by the
fourscore men wTho came from Shechem, Shiloh, and
Samaria. Moreover, the instances of blood-letting as a
complimentary act in social intercourse, become explicable.
During a Samoan marriage ceremony the friends of the
bride, to testify their respect, " took up stones and beat
themselves until their heads were bruised and bleed
ing." " When the Indians of Potonchan (Central Amer
ica) receive new friends ... as a proof of friendship, they,
in the sight of the friend, draw some blood . . . from the
MUTILATIONS. 71
tongue, hand, or arm, or from some other part." And Mr.
W. Foster, Agent General for New South Wales, writes to
me that he has seen an Australian mother on meeting her
son after an interval of six months, gash her face with a
pointed stick " until the blood streamed."
§ 364. Cuts leave scars. If the blood-offerings which
entail them are made by relatives to the departed spirit of
an ordinary person, these scars are not likely to have any
permanent significance; but if they are made in propitia
tion of a deceased chief, not by his relatives alone but by
unrelated members of the tribe who stood in awe of him
and fear his ghost, then, like other mutilations, they
become signs of subjection. The Huns who " at the burial
of Attila, cut their faces with hollow wounds," in common
with the Turks who did the like at royal funerals, thus
inflicted on themselves marks which thereafter distin
guished them as servants of their respective rulers. So, too,
did the Lacedaemonians who, " when their king died, had a
barbarous custom of meeting in vast numbers, where men,
women, and slaves, all mixed together, tore the flesh from
their foreheads with pins and needles ... to gratify the
ghosts of the dead." Such customs are likely sometimes to
have further results. With the apotheosis of a notable
king whose conquests gave him the character of founder
of the nation, marks of this kind, borne not by his con
temporary followers only but imposed by them on their
children, may become national marks.
That the scars caused by blood-lettings at funerals are
recognized as binding to the dead these who bear them,
and do develop in the way alleged, we have good evidence.
The command in Leviticus, " ye shall not make any cuttings
in your flesh for the dead, nor print any marks upon you,"
shows us the usage in that stage at which the scar left by
sacrifice of blood is still a sign partly of family subordination
and partly of other subordination. And Scandinavian tra-
72 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
clitions show us a stage at which the scar betokens allegiance
either to an unspecified supernatural being, or to a deceased
ruler who has become a god. Odin, " when he was near his
death, made himself be marked with the point of a spear; "
and Xiort " before he died made himself be marked for
Odin with the spear-point."
It is probable that scars on the surface of the body, thus
coming to express loyalty to a deceased father, or a deceased
ruler, or a god derived from him, initiate among other dis
figurements those we class as tattooing. Lacerations, and
the traces they leave, are certain to take different forms
in different places. The Andaman Islanders " tattoo
by incising the skin . . . without inserting colouring
matter, the cicatrix being whiter than the sound skin."
Some natives of Australia have ridges raised on this or that
part of the body; while others brand themselves. In
Tanna the people make elevated scars on their arms and
chests. And Burton, in his Abeokuta, says — " the skin
patterns were of every variety, from the diminutive prick to
the great gash and the large boil-like lumps ... In this
country every tribe, sub-tribe, and even family, has its
blazon, whose infinite diversifications may be compared
with the lines and ordinaries of European heraldry."
Naturally, among the various skin-mutilations originating
in the way alleged, many will, under the promptings of
vanity, take on a character more or less ornamental; and
the use of them for decoration will often survive when their
meaning has been lost.
Hypothesis apart, we have proof that these marks are in
many cases tribal marks; as they would of course become
if they were originally made when men bound themselves
by blood to the dead founder of the tribe. Among the
Cuebas of Central America, " if the son of a chief declined
to use the distinctive badge of his house, he could, when he
became chief, choose any new device he might fancy; " but
" a son who did not adopt his father's totem was always
MUTILATIONS. 73
hateful to him." And if refusal to adopt the family-mark
where it is painted on the body, is thus regarded as a kind
of disloyalty, equally will it be so when the mark is one
that has arisen from modified lacerations; and such refusal
will be tantamount to rebellion where the mark signifies
descent from, and submission to, some great father of the
race. Hence such facts as the following : — " All these In-
" dians " says Cieza of the ancient Peruvians, " wear certain
" marks by which they are known, and which were used
by " their ancestors." " Both sexes of the Sandwich Isl
anders have a particular mark (tattooed) which seems to
indicate the district in which, or the chief under whom, they
lived."*
That a special form of tattooing becomes a tribal mark in
the way suggested, we have, indeed, some direct evidence.
Among the Sandwich Islanders, funeral rites at the death
of a chief, such as knocking out teeth, cutting the ears, &c.,
one is tattooing a spot on the tongue. Here we see this
mutilation becoming a sign of allegiance to a ruler who
has died; and then, when the deceased ruler, unusually
distinguished, is apotheosized, the tattoo mark becomes the
sign of obedience to him as a deity. " With several
Eastern nations," says Grimm, " it was a custom to mark
oneself by a burnt or incised sign as adherent to a certain
worship." It was thus with the Hebrews. Remembering
that they were forbidden to mark themselves for the dead,
we shall see the meaning of the passage in Deuteronomy—
" They have corrupted themselves, the spot is not the spot
of his children: they are a perverse and crooked genera
tion." And that such contrasted spots were understood in
* While this chapter is standing in type, I have come upon a passage in
Bancroft, concerning the Indians of the Isthmus of Darien fully verifying the
general interpretation given. He says : — " Every principal man retained a
number of prisoners as bondsmen ; they . . . were branded or tattooed with
the particular mark of the owner en the face or arm, or had one of their front
teeth extracted."
74: CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
later times to imply the service of different deities, is sug
gested by passages in Revelations, wliere an angel is de
scribed as ordering delay " till we have sealed the servants
of our God in their foreheads/' and where " an hundred and
forty and four thousand, having his Father's name written
in their foreheads," are described as standing on Mount Sion
while an angel proclaims that, " If any man worship the
beast and his image, and receive his mark in his forehead, or
in his hand, the same shall drink of the wine of the wrath of
God." Even now " this practice of marking religious to
kens upon the hands and arms is almost universal among the
Arabs, of all sects and classes." Moreover " Christians in
some parts of the East, and European sailors, were long in
the habit of marking, by means of punctures and a black
dye, their arms and other members of the body with the sign
of the crucifix, or the image of the Virgin ; the Mahomme-
dans mark them with the name of Allah." So that among
advanced races, these skin-mutilations still have meanings
like those given to them in ancient Mexico, where, when a
child was dedicated to Quetzalcohuatl " the priest made a
slight cut with a knife 011 its breast, as a sign that it belonged
to the cult and service of the god," and like those now given
to them in parts of Angola, where a. child as soon as born is
tattooed on the belly, in order thereby to dedicate it to a cer
tain fetich.
A significant group of evidences remains. We have
seen that where cropped hair implies servitude, long hair be
comes an honourable distinction; and that, occasionally,
in opposition to circumcision as associated with subjection,
there is absence of it along with the highest power. Here
we have a parallel antithesis. The great divine chief of the
Tongans is unlike all other men in Tonga, not only as being
uncircumcised, but also as being untattooed. Elsewhere
whole classes are thus distinguished. Not, however,
that such distinctions are at all regular: we here meet with
anomalies,. Though in some places showing social inferior-
MUTILATIONS. 75
ity, tattooing in other places is a trait of the superior. But
the occurrence of anomalies is not surprising. During the
perpetual overrunnings of race by race, it must sometimes
have happened that an untattooed race having been con
quered by one which practised tattooing, the presence of
these markings became associated with social supremacy.
A further cause exists for this conflict of meanings.
There remains to be named a species of skin-mutilation
having another origin and different implication.
§ 365. Besides scars resulting from lacerations made in
propitiating dead relatives, dead chiefs, and deities, there
are scars resulting from wrounds received in battle. All the
world over, these are held in honour and displayed with
pride. The sentiment associated with them among our
selves in past times, is indicated in Shakespeare by sundry-
references to " such as boasting shew their scars." Lafeu
says — " a scar nobly got, or a noble scar, is a good livery of
honour; " and Henry Y. foretells of an old soldier that
' then will he strip his sleeve and shew his scars."
Animated as are savages in still higher degrees than
civilized by the feelings thus indicated, what may be
expected to result? Will not anxiety to get honour some
times lead to the making of scars artificially? We have
evidence that it does. A Bechuana priest makes a long cut
in the skin from the thigh to the knee of each warrior who
has slain a man in battle. The Bachapin Kaffirs have a
kindred usage. Among the Damaras, " for every wild
animal that a young man destroys, his father makes four
small incisions on the front of the son's body as marks of
honour and distinction." And then Tuckey, speaking of
certain Congo people who make scars, says that this is
" principally done with the idea of rendering themselves
agreeable to the wromen: " a motive which is intelligible if
such scars originally passed for scars got in war, and imply
ing bravery. Again, we read that " the Itzaex Indians [in
76 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
Yucatan] have handsome faces, though some of them were
marked with lines as a sign of courage." Facts
furnished by other American tribes, suggest that the inflic
tion of torture on reaching maturity, originated from the
habit of making scars artificially in imitation of scars be
queathed by battle. If self -in jury to avoid service in war
has been not infrequent among the cowardly, we may infer
that among the courageous Avho had received no wounds,
self -in jury might be not infrequent, wrhere there was gained
by it that character desired above everything. The reputa
tion achieved might make the practice, at first secret and ex
ceptional, gradually more common and at length general;
until, finally, public opinion, vented against those who did
not follow it, made the usage peremptory. And on reading
that among the Abipones, " boys of seven years old pierce
their little arms in imitation of their parents, and display
plenty of wounds," we are shown the rise of a feeling, and a
consequent practice, which, growing, may end in a system
of initiatory tortures at manhood. Though when the scars,
being borne by all, are no longer distinctive, discipline in
endurance comes to be the reason given for inflicting them,
this cannot have been the original reason. Primitive men,
improvident in all ways, never devised and instituted a
usage with a view to a foreseen distant benefit : they do not
make laws, they fall into customs.
Here, then, we find an additional reason why markings
on the skin, though generally badges of subordination, be
come in some cases honourable distinctions and occasionally
signs of rank.
§ 366. Something must be added concerning a second
ary motive for mutilating prisoners and slaves, parallel to,
or sequent upon, a secondary motive for taking trophies.
In the last chapter we inferred that, prompted by his
belief that the spirit pervades the corpse, the savage pre
serves relics of dead enemies partly in the expectation that
MUTILATIONS. 77
he will be enabled thereby to coerce their ghosts — if not
himself, still by the help of the medicine-man. He has a
parallel reason for preserving a part cut from one whom he
has enslaved : both he and the slave think that he so obtains
a power to inflict injury. Remembering that the sorcerer's
first step is to procure some hair or nail-parings of his
victim, or else some piece of his dress pervaded by that
odour which is identified with his spirit; it appears to be
a necessary corollary that the master who keeps by him a
slave's tooth, a joint from his litt|e finger, or even a lock of
his hair, thereby retains a power of delivering him over to
the sorcerer, who may bring on him one or other fearful
evil — torture by demons, disease, death.
The subjugated man is consequently made obedient by
a dread akin to that which Caliban expresses of Prospero's
magically-inflicted torments.
§ 367. The evidence that mutilation of the living has
been a sequence of trophy-taking from the slain, is thus
abundant and varied. Taking the trophy implies victory
carried to the death; and the derived practice of cutting
off a part from a prisoner implies subjugation of him.
Eventually the voluntary surrender of such a part expresses
submission; and becomes a propitiatory ceremony because
it does this.
Hands are cut off from dead enemies; and, answering
to this, besides some identical mutilations of criminals, we
have the cutting off of fingers or portions of fingers, to
pacify living chiefs, deceased persons, and gods. Noses arc
among the trophies taken from slain $oes; and we have loss
of noses inflicted on captives, on slaves^n transgressors of
certain kinds. Ears are brought back from the battle-field ;
and occasionally they are cut off from prisoners, felons,
or slaves; while there are peoples among whom pierced
ears mark the servant or the subject. Jaws and teeth,
too, are trophies; and teeth, in some cases knocked out in
78 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
propitiation of a dead chief, are, in various other cases,
knocked out by a priest as a quasi-religious ceremony.
Scalps are taken from killed enemies, and sometimes their
hair is used to decorate a victor's dress; and then come
various sequences. Here the enslaved have their heads
cropped; here scalp-locks are worn subject to a chief's
ownership, and occasionally demanded in sign of submis
sion; while, elsewhere, men sacrifice their beards to their
rulers: unshorn hair being thus rendered a mark of
rank. Among numerous peoples, hair is sacrificed to
propitiate the ghosts of relatives; whole tribes cut it off on
the deaths of their chiefs or kings; and it is yielded up to
express subjection to deities. Occasionally it is offered to
a living superior in token of respect; and this complimen
tary offering is extended to others. Similarly with genital
mutilations: there is a like- taking of certain parts
from slain enemies and from living prisoners; and there is
a presentation of them to kings and to gods. Self -bleeding,
initiated partly, perhaps, by cannibalism, but more exten
sively by the mutual giving of blood in pledge of loyalty,
enters into several ceremonies expressing subordination:
we find it occurring in propitiation of ghosts and of gods,
and occasionally as a compliment to living persons. Natu
rally it is the same with the resulting marks. Originally
indefinite in form and place but rendered definite by
custom, and at length often decorative, these healed
wounds, at first entailed only on relatives of deceased per
sons, then on all of the followers of a man much feared while
alive, so become marks expressive of subjection to a dead
ruler, and eventually to a god: growing thus into tribal
and national marks.
If, as we have seen, trophy-taking as a sequence of con
quest enters as a factor into those governmental restraints
which conquest initiates, it is to be inferred that the mutila
tions originated by trophy-taking will do the like. The
evidence justifies this inference. Beginning as marks of
MUTILATIONS. 79
personal slavery and becoming marks of political and
religious subordination, they play a part like that of
oaths of fealty and pious self-dedications. Moreover, being
acknowledgments of submission to a ruler, visible or in
visible, they enforce authority by making conspicuous the
extent of his sway. And where they signify class-subjec
tion, as well as where they show the subjugation of crimi
nals, they further strengthen the regulative agency.
If mutilations originate as alleged, some connexion
must exist between the extent to which they are carried and
the social type. On grouping the facts as presented by
fifty-two peoples, the connexion emerges with as much
clearness as can be expected. In the first place, since
mutilation originates with conquest and resulting aggre
gation, it is inferable that simple societies, however savage,
will be less characterized by it than the larger savage socie
ties compounded out of such, and less than even semi-civil
ized societies. This proves to be true. Of peoples who
form simple societies that practice mutilation either not at
all or in slight forms, I find eleven — Fuegians, Veddahs,
Andamanese, Dyaks, Todas, Gonds, Santals, Bodo and
Dhimals, Mishmis, Kamstchadales, Snake Indians; and
these are characterized throughout either by absence of
chieftainship, or by chieftainship of an unsettled kind.
Meanwhile, of peoples who mutilate little or not at all, I
find but two in the class of uncivilized compound societies;
of which one, the Kirghiz, is characterized by a wandering
life that makes subordination difficult; and the other, the
Iroquois, had a republican form of government. Of socie
ties practising mutilations that are moderate, the simple
bear a decreased ratio to the compound: of the one class
there are ten — Tasmanians, Tannese, New Guinea people,
Karens, Nagas, Ostyaks, Esquimaux, Chinooks, Comanches,
Chippewayans ; while of the other class there are five — New
Zealanders, East Africans, Khonds, Kukis, Kalmucks.
And of these it is to be remarked, that in the one class the
80 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
simple headship, and in the other class the compound head
ship, is unstable. On coming to the societies distinguished
by severer mutilations, we find these relations reversed.
Among the simple I can name but three — the New Cal^-
donians (among whom, however, the severer mutilation is
not general), the Bushmen (who are believed to have lapsed
from a higher social state), and the Australians (who have,
I believe, similarly lapsed); while, among the compound,
twenty-one may be named — Fijians, Sandwich Islanders,
Tahitians, Tongans, Samoans, Javans, Sumatrans, Mala
gasy, Hottentots, Damaras, Bechuanas, Kaffirs, Congo peo
ple, Coast Negroes, Inland Negroes, Dahomans, Ashantees,
Fulahs, Abyssinians, Arabs, Dacotahs. In the
second place, social consolidation being habitually effected
by conquest, and compound and doubly-compound societies
being therefore, during early stages, militant in their activi
ties and types of structure, it follows that the connexion
of the custom of mutilation with the size of the society is
indirect, while that with its type is direct. And this the
facts show us. If we put side by side those societies which
are most unlike in respect of the practice of mutilation, we
find them to be those which are most unlike as being wholly
unmilitant in organization, and wholly militant in organiza
tion. At the one extreme we have the Veddas, Todas,
Bodo and Dhimals; while, at the other extreme, we have
the Fijians, Abyssinians, and ancient Mexicans.
Derived from trophy-taking, and developing with the
development of the militant type, mutilations must, by
implication, decrease as fast as the societies consolidated by
militancy become less militant, and must disappear as the
industrial type of structure evolves. That they do so,
European history at large may be assigned in proof. And
it is significant that in our own society, now predominant
ly industrial, such slight mutilations as continue are con
nected with that regulative part of the organization which
militancy has bequeathed: there survive only the now-
MUTILATIONS. 81
meaningless tattooings of sailors, the branding of deserters
(until recently), and the cropping of the heads of felons.
NOTE TO CHAPTER III.
At the Royal Institution, in April, 1882, Dr. E. B. Tylor deliv
ered a lecture on "The Study of Customs " (afterwards published in
Macmillan's Magazine for May, 1882), which was primarily an attack
on this work.
One of the objections he made concerns the interpretation of scars
and tatooings as having originated in offerings of blood to the dead ;
and as becoming, by consequence, marks of subordination to them,
and afterwards of other subordination. He says : —
"Now the question here is not to determine whether all this is imaginable
or possible, but what the evidence is of its having actually happened. The
Levitical law is quoted, ' Ye shall not make any cuttings in your flesh for the
dead, nor print any marks upon you.' This Mr. Spencer takes as good evidence
that the cutting of the flesh at the funeral develops into a mark of subjection."
But Dr. Tylor ignores the fact that I have referred to the Huns,
the Turks, the Lacedaemonians, as following customs such as Leviti
cus interdicts (besides eight cases of like lacerations, leaving marks,
in § 89). Nor does he hint that there are uncited cases of like mean
ing: instance the ancient Scythians, among whom, according to He
rodotus (iv. 71), each man in presence of a king's corpse, "makes a
cut all round his arm, lacerates his forehead and his nose, and
thrusts an arrow through his left hand ; " or instance some modern
Australians, who, says Grey, on the authority of Bussel, "placed the
corpse beside the grave and gashed their thighs, and at the flowing
of the blood they all said—' I have brought blood ' " (p. 332). Not
only does Dr. Tylor lead readers to "suppose that the evidence I have
taken from Leviticus is unsupported by like evidence elsewhere de
rived, but he passes over the fact that this form of bodily mutilation
is associated by me with other forms, similarly originating and having
similar sequences. He omits to say that I have named four peoples
among whom amputated fingers are offered in propitiation of the
dead; two among whom they are given in propitiation of a god; and
one — the ferocious Fijians — among whom living persons also are pro
pitiated by sacrificed fingers ; and that I have joined this last with
the usage of the Canaanites, among whom amputated thumbs and
toes marked conquered men, and hence became signs of subordina
tion. He did not tell his hearers that, as mutilations entailed by
trophy-taking, I have named the losses of hands, feet, parts of the
ears and nose, and parts of the genital organs; and have shown that
habitually, the resulting marks have come to signify subjection to
powerful persons, living or dead. Concerning all this direct and in
direct support of my inference he is silent ; and he thus produces the
suppression that it is almost baseless. Moreover, in contesting the
conclusion that tatooing was derived from lacerations at funerals, he
leaves it to be supposed that this is a mere guess : saying nothing of
my quotation from Burton to the effect that these skin-mutilations
82 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
show all gradations from large gashes to diminutive pricks, and say
ing nothing of the instances I have given in which a tatoo-mark sig
nifies subjection to a ruler, human or divine. And then, after assert
ing that of "cogent proof there is simply none," he inadvertently
furnishes a proof of considerable cogency — the fact that by lines of
tatooing joined to it, the D branded on deserters was often changed
by them into the handle of a sword : a decorative skin-mark was de
rived from a skin mark that was not decorative.
My inference that the cropping of the hair of felons is a survival,
is supported by more evidence than that given in the text. Dr. Tylor,
however, prefers to regard it as an entirely modern regulation to in
sure cleanliness : ignoring the truth, illustrated by himself, that usages
often survive after their original purpose has been forgotten, and are
then misinterpreted.
The remaining three errors alleged (which are all incidental, and,
if substantiated, would leave the main propositions unshaken) con
cern chapters that follow. One only of them is, I think, estab
lished. Good reason is given for dissenting from my interpretation
of the colours used in different countries for mourning (an inter
pretation not embodied in the argument of Chapter VI, but merely
appended as a note, which, in this edition, I have changed). The
other two, concerning the wearing of two swords by upper-class Jap
anese, and the origin of shaking hands, I leave standing as they did;
partly because I see further reasons for thinking them true, and part
ly because Dr. Tylor's explanations fail to account for the origin of the
one as a mark of rank, and of the other as a mark of friendship.
Dr. Tylor's avowed purpose is to show that my method "vitiates
the whole argument : " having previously asserted that my method is
to extract ' ' from laws of nature the reasons how and why men do all
things." It is amusing to place by the side of this the assertion of
The Times' reviewer (March llth," 1880), who says that my method is
"to state the facts as simply as possible, with just a word or two on
their mutual bearings and their place in his [my] ' system ; ' " and
who hints that I have not sufficiently connected the facts with " prin
ciples " ! The one says I proceed exclusively by deduction ; the other
says that I proceed almost exclusively by induction ! But the reader
needs not depend on authority : the evidence is before him. In it he
will, I think, fail to recognize the truth of Dr. Tylor's statement;
and, having thus tested one of his statements, will see that others of
his statements are not to be taken as valid simply because I do not
occupy time and space in contesting them.
CHAPTER IV.
PEESENTS.
§ 3G8. Travellers, coming in contact with strange peo
ples, habitually propitiate them by gifts. Two results are
achieved. Gratification caused by the worth of the thing
given, tends to beget a friendly mood in the person ap
proached; and there is a tacit expression of the donor's de
sire to please, which has a like effect. It is from the last of
these that gift-making as a ceremony proceeds.
The alliance between mutilations and presents — be
tween off ering a part of the body and offering something else
—is well shown by a statement respecting the ancient Peru
vians; which also shows how present-making becomes a
propitiatory act, apart from the value o? the tiling presented.
Describing people who carry burdens over the high passes,
Garcilasso says they unload themselves on the top, and then
severally say to the god Pachacamac, —
" 'I give thanks that this has been carried,' and in making an
offering they pulled a hair out of their eyebrows, or took the herb
called cuca from their mouths, as a gift of the most precious tilings
they had. Or if there was nothing better, they offered a small stick
or piece of straw, or even a piece of stone or earth. There were
great heaps of these offerings at the summits of passes over the
mountains."
Though, coming in this unfamiliar form, these offerings of
parts of themselves, or of things they prized, or of worthless
things, seems strange, they will seem less strange on remem
bering that at the foot of a wayside crucifix in France, may
83
84 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
any day be seen a heap of small crosses, severally made of
two bits of lath nailed together. Intrinsically of no more
value than these straws, sticks, and stones the Peruvians
offered, they similarly force on our attention the truth that
the act of presentation passes into a ceremony expressing
the wish to conciliate. How natural is this substitution of
a nominal giving for a real giving, where a real giving is
impracticable, we are shown even by intelligent animals. A
retriever, accustomed to please his master by fetching killed
birds, &c., will fall into the habit at other times of fetching
things to show his desire to please. On first seeing in the
morning some one he is friendly with, he will add to his
demonstratioins of joy, the seeking and bringing in his
mouth a dead leaf, a twig, or any small available object
lying near. And, while serving to show the natural genesis
of this propitiatory ceremony, his behaviour serves also to
show how deep down there begins the process of symboliza-
tion; and how, at the outset, the symbolic act is as near a
repetition of the act symbolized as circumstances allow.
Prepared as we thus are to trace the development of
gift-making into a ceremony, let us now observe its several
varieties, and the social arrangements eventually derived
from them.
§ 369. In headless tribes, and in tribes of which the
headship is unsettled, and in tribes of which the headship
though settled is feeble, making presents does not become
an established usage. Australians, Tasmanians, Fuegians
are instances; and on reading through accounts of wild
American races that are little organized, like the Esqui
maux, Chinooks, Snakes, Comanches, Chippewas, or are
organized in a democratic manner, like the Iroquois and
the Creeks, we find, along with absence of strong personal
rule, scarcely any mention of gift-making as a political ob
servance.
In apt contrast come accounts of usages among those
PRESENTS. 85
American races which in past times reached, under despotic
governments, considerable degrees of civilization. Torque-
mada writes that in Mexico, " when any one goes to salute
the lord or king, he takes with him flowers and gifts." Of
the Chibchas we read that " when they brought a present
in order to negotiate or speak with the cazique (for no one
went to visit him without bringing a gift), they entered
with the head and body bent downwards." Among the
Yucatanese, " when there was hunting or fishing or salt-
carrying, they always gave a part to the lord." Peoples of
other types, as the Malayo-Polynesians, living in kindred
stages of social progress under the undisputed sway of
chiefs, exemplify this same custom. Speaking of things
bartered to the Tahitian populace for food, native cloth, &c.,
Forster says — " Ho\vever, we found that after some time all
this acquired wealth flowed as presents, or voluntary ac
knowledgments, into the treasure of the various chiefs." In
Fiji, again, " whoever asks a favour of a chief, or seeks civil
intercourse with him, is expected to bring a present."
These last cases show us how making presents passes
from a voluntary propitiation into a compulsory propitia
tion; for on reading that " the Tahitian chiefs plundered the
plantations of their subjects at will," and that in Fiji,
" chiefs take the property and persons of others by force ; "
it becomes manifest that present-making develops into the
giving of a part to prevent loss of the whole. It is the
policy at once to satisfy cupidity and to express submission.
1 The Malagasy, slaves as well as others, occasionally make
presents of provisions to their chiefs, as an acknowledgment
of homage." And it is inferable that in proportion to the
power of chiefs, will be the anxiety to please them; both
by forestalling their greedy desires and by displaying
loyalty.
In few if any cases, however, does the carrying of gifts
to a chief become so developed a usage in a simple tribe.
At first the head man, not much differentiated from the rest,
64
86 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
fails to impress them with a fear great enough to make
present-giving an habitual ceremony. It is only in a com
pound society, resulting from the over-running of many
tribes by a conquering tribe, that there comes a governing
class, formed of head-chief and sub-chiefs, sufficiently dis
tinguished from the rest, and sufficiently powerful to inspire
the required awe. The above examples are all taken from
societies in which kingship has been reached.
§ 370. A more extended form is simultaneously as
sumed by this ceremony. For where along with subordi
nate rulers there exists a chief ruler, he has to be propitiated
alike by the people at large and by the subordinate rulers.
AYe must here observe the growth of both kinds of gift-
making that hence arise.
A place in which the usage has retained its primitive
character is Timbuctoo. Here " the king does not levy any
tribute on his subjects or on foreign merchants, but he
receives presents.'7 But Caillie adds — " There is no regular
government. The king is like a father ruling his children."
When disputes arise, he " assembles a council of the elders."
That is to say, present-giving remains voluntary where the
kingly power is not great. Among the Kaffirs, we see gifts
losing their voluntary character. " The revenue of the king
consists of an annual contribution of cattle, first-fruits,"
&G. ; and " when a Koossa [Kaffir] opens his granary he
must send a little of the grain to his neighbours, and a larger
portion to the king." In Abyssinia there is a like mixture of
exactions and spontaneous gifts: besides settled contribu
tions, the prince of Tigre receives annual presents. Evi
dently when presents that have become customary have
ceased in so far to be propitiatory, there is a tendency to
make other presents that are propitiatory because unex
pected.
If an offering made by a private person implies submis
sion, still more does an offering made by a subordinate ruler
PRESENTS. 87
to a supreme ruler. Hence the making of presents grows
into a formal recognition of supremacy. In ancient Vera
Pas, " as soon as some one was elected king ... all the
lords of the tribes appeared or sent relations of theirs . . .
with presents. " Among the Chibchas, when a new king
came to the throne, " the chief men then took an oath that
they would be obedient and loyal vassals, and as a proof of
their loyalty each one gave him a jewel and a number of
rabbits, &c." Of the Mexicans, Toribio says — " Each year,
at certain festivals, those Indians who did not pay taxes,
even the chiefs . . . made gifts to the sovereigns ... in
token of their submission. " And so in Peru, " no one ap
proached Atahuallpa without bringing a present in token
of submission. " This significance of gift-making is shown
in the records of the Hebrews. In proof of Solomon's
supremacy it is said that " all the kings of the earth
sought the presence of Solomon ... and they brought
every man his present ... a rate year by year." Con
versely, when Saul was chosen king " the children of Belial
said, How shall this man save us? And they despised him,
and brought him no presents." Throughout the remote
East the bringing of presents to the chief ruler has still the
same meaning. I have before me illustrative facts from
Japan, from China, from Burmah.
Nor does early European history fail to exemplify pres
ent-giving and its implications. During the Merovingian
period " on a fixed day, once a-year, in the field of March,
according to ancient custom, gifts were offered to the kings
by the people; " and this custom continued into the Carolin-
gian period. Such gifts were made alike by individuals and
communities. From the time of Gontram, who was over
whelmed with gifts by the inhabitants of Orleans on his en
try, it long continued the habit with towns thus to seek the
goodwill of monarchs who visited them. In ancient Eng
land, too, when the monarchs visited a town, present-mak
ing entailed so heavy a loss that in some cases " the passing
88 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
of the royal family and court was viewed as a great misfor-
§ 371. Grouped as above, the evidence implies that
from propitiatory presents, voluntary and exceptional to be
gin with but becoming as political power strengthens less
voluntary and more general, there eventually grow up
universal and involuntary contributions — established trib
ute; and that with the rise of a currency this passes into
taxation. How this transformation takes place, is well
shown in Persia. Speaking of the " irregular and oppres
sive taxes to which they [the Persians] are continually ex
posed," Malcolm says — " The first of these extra taxes may
be termed usual and extraordinary presents. The usual
presents to the king are those made annually by all govern
ors of provinces and districts, chiefs of tribes, ministers, and
all other officers in high charge, at the feast of Nourouze,
or vernal equinox. . . . The amount presented on this
occasion is generally regulated by usage ; to fall short is loss
of office, and to exceed is increase of favour."
The passing of present-making into payment of tribute
as it becomes periodic, is clearly exemplified in some com
paratively small societies where governmntal power is
well established. Tn Tonga " the higher class of chiefs
generally make a present to the king, of hogs and yams,
about once a fortnight : these chiefs at the same time receive
presents from those below them, and these last from others,
and so on, down to the common people." Ancient Mexico,
formed of provinces dependent in various degrees, exhibited
several stages of the transition. " The provinces . . .
made these contributions . . . since they were conquered,
that the gallant Mexicans might . . . cease to destroy
them: " clearly showing that the presents were at first pro
pitiatory. Again, " in Meztitlan the tribute was not paid
at fixed times . . . but when the lord wanted it." Then of
the tributes throughout the country of Montezuma, we are
PRESENTS. 89
told that " some of these were paid annually, others every
six months, and others every eighty days." And further of
the gifts made at festivals by some " in token of their
submission/' Toribio says — " In this way it seems manifest
that the chiefs, the merchants, and the landed proprietors,
were not obliged to pay taxes, but did so voluntarily."
A like transition is traceable in early European history.
Among the sources of revenue of the Merovingian kings,
Waitz enumerates the freewill gifts of the people on various
occasions, besides the yearly presents made originally at the
March gatherings. And then, speaking of these yearly
presents in the Carolingian period, the same writer says
they had long lost their voluntary character, and are even
described as a tax by Hincmar. They included horses, gold,
silver, and jewels, and (from nunneries) garments, and
requisitions for the royal palaces; and he adds that these
dues, or tribute, were all of a more or less private character:
though compulsory they had not yet become taxes in the
literal sense. So, too, with the things presented to minor
rulers by their feudal dependants. " The dona, after hav
ing been, as the name sufficiently indicates, voluntary gifts,
were in the twelfth century become territorial dues received
by the lords."
In proportion as values became more definite and pay
ments in coin easier, commutation resulted. Instance,
in the Carolingian period, " the so-called inferenda — a due
originally paid in cattle, now in money; " instance the
oublies, consisting of bread " presented on certain clays by
vassals to their lords," which " were often replaced by a
small annual due in money; " instance, in our own history,
the giving of money instead of goods by towns to a king
and his suite making a progress through them. The evi
dence may fitly be closed with the following passage
from Stubbs: —
"The ordinary revenue of the English king had been derived
solely from the royal estates and the produce of what had been the
90 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
folkland, with such commuted payments of feormfultum, or provision
in kind, as represented either the reserved rents from ancient posses
sions of the crown, or the quasi-voluntary tribute paid by the nation
to its chosen head."
In which passage are simultaneously implied the transition
from voluntary gifts to involuntary tribute, and the commu
tation of tribute into taxes.
§ 372. If voluntary gifts to the supreme man by-and-by
become tribute, and eventually form a settled revenue, may
we not expect that gifts made to his subordinates, when
their aid is wished, will similarly become customary, and at
length yield them maintenance ? Will not the process above
indicated in relation to the major State-functionary, repeat
itself with the minor State-functionaries? We find that it
does so.
First it is to be noted that, besides ordinary presents, the
ruling man in early stages commonly has special presents
made to him when called on to use his power in aid of an
aggrieved subject. Among the Chibchas, " no one could
appear in the presence of a king, cazique, or superior, with
out bringing a gift, which was to be delivered before the
petition was made." In Sumatra, a chief " levies no
taxes, nor has any revenue, ... or other emolument from
his subjects, than what accrues to him from the deter
mination of causes." Of Gulab Singh, a late ruler of
Jummoo, Mr. Drew says — " With the customary offering
of a rupee as nazar [present] any one could get his ear;
even in a crowd one could catch his eye by holding up a
rupee and crying out. . . . ' Maharajah, a petition.7 He
would pounce down like a hawk on the money, and, having
appropriated it, would patiently hear out the petitioner."
There is evidence that among ourselves in ancient days a
kindred usage existed. " We may readily believe," says
Broom, referring to a statement of Lingard, " that few
princes in those [Anglo-Saxon] days, declined to exercise
PRESENTS. 91
judicial functions when solicited by favourites, tempted by
bribery, or stimulated by cupidity and avarice." And on
reading that in early Norman times " the first step in the
process of obtaining redress was to sue out, or purchase,
by paying the stated fees," the king's original writ, re
quiring the defendant to appear before him, we may suspect
that the amount paid for this document represented what
had originally been the present to the king for giving his
judicial aid. There is support for this inference. Black-
stone says:- — " Now, indeed, even the royal writs are held to
be demandable of common right, on paying the usual fees: "
implying a preceding time in which the granting of them
was a matter of royal favour obtained by propitiation.
Naturally, then, when judicial and other functions
come to be deputed, gifts will similarly be made to obtain
the services of the functionaries; and these, originally vol
untary, will become compulsory. Ancient records yield
evidence. Amos ii. 6, implies that judges received presents;
as are said to do the Turkish magistrates in the same regions
down to our day ; and on finding that habitually among the
Kirghis, " the judge takes presents from both sides/' we see
that the assumption of the prophet, and of the modern ob
server, that this usage arose by a corruption, adds one to
those many cases in which survival of a lower state is mis
taken for degradation of a higher. In France, the king in
1256 imposed on his judicial officials, " high and subal
terns, an oath to make or receive no present, to administer
justice without regard to persons." Nevertheless gifts con
tinued. Judges received " spices " as a mark of gratitude
from those who had won a cause. By 1369, if not before,
these were converted into money; and in 1402 they were
recognized as dues. In our own history the case of Bacon
exemplifies not a special and late .practice, but an old and
usual one. Local records show the habitual making of gifts
to officers of justice and their attendants; and " no approach
to a great man, a magistrate, or courtier, was ever made
92 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
without the oriental accompaniment — a gift." " Damage
deer," a gratuity to prothonotaries, had become in the
seventeenth century, a fixed assessment. That the pres
ents to State-functionaries formed, in some cases, their
entire revenues, is inferable from the fact that in the twelfth
century the great offices of the royal household were bought :
the value of the presents received was great enough to
make the places worth buying. Good evidence comes from
Russia. Karamsin " repeats the observations of the travel
lers who visited Muscovy in the sixteenth century: — ' Is it-
surprising/ says these strangers, l that the Grand Prince is
rich ? He neither gives money to his troops nor his ambassa
dors; he even takes from these last all the costly things
they bring back from foreign lands. . . . Nevertheless
these men do not complain.' ' Whence we must infer that,
lacking payments from above, they lived on gifts from be
low. Whence, further, it becomes manifest that what we
call the bribes, which the miserably-salaried officials in Rus
sia now require before performing their duties, represent the
presents which formed their sole maintenance in times when
they had no salaries. And the like may be inferred respect
ing Spain, of which Rose says: — " From judge down to
constable, bribery and corruption prevail. . . . There is
this excuse, however, for the poor Spanish official. His gov
ernment gives him no remuneration, and expects every
thing of him."
So natural has habit now made to us the payment of
fixed sums for specified services, that we assume this relation
to have existed from the beginning. But when we read
how, in slightly-organized societies, such as that of the
Bechuanas, the chiefs allow their attendants " a scanty
portion of food or milk, and leave them to make up the
deficiency by hunting or by digging up wild roots; " and
how, in societies considerably more advanced, as Dahomey,
" no officer under government is paid; " we are shown that
originally the subordinates of the chief man, not officially
PRESENTS. 93
supported, have to support themselves. And as their
positions enable them to injure or to benefit subject persons
— as, indeed, it is often only by their aid that the chief man
can be invoked; there arises the same motive to propitiate
them by presents that there does to propitiate by presents
the chief man himself. Whence the parallel growth of an
income. Here, from the East, is an illustration come upon
since the foregoing sentences were first published: — " None
of these [servants or slaves] receive any wages, but the
master presents each with a suit of clothes at the great
yearly festival, and gifts are also bestowed upon them,
mostly in money (bakshish), from such visitors as have
business with their master, and desire a good word spoken
to him at the opportune moment."
§ 373. Since, at first, the double of the dead man, like
him in all other respects, is conceived as being no less liable
to pain, cold, hunger, thirst; he is supposed to be similarly
propitiated by providing for him food, drink, clothing, &c.
At the outset, then, presents to the dead differ from presents
to the living neither in meaning nor motive.
Lower forms of society all over the world furnish
proofs. Food and drink are left with the unburied corpse
by Papuans, Tahitians, Sandwich Islanders, Malanans, Ba-
dagas, Karens, ancient Peruvians, Brazilians, &c. Food
and drink are afterward carried to the grave in Africa by the
Sherbro people, the Loango people, the inland Negroes, the
Dahomans, and others; throughout the Indian hills by
Bhils, Santals, Kukis; in America by Caribs, Chibchas,
Mexicans; and the like usage was general among ancient
races in the East. Clothes are periodically taken as pres
ents to the dead by the Esquimaux. In Patagonia they an
nually open the sepulchral chambers and re-clothe the dead ;
as did, too, the ancient Peruvians. When a potentate dies
among the Congo people, the quantity of clothes given from
time to time is so great " that the first hut in which the body
94: CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
is deposited becoming too small, a second, a third, even to a
sixth, increasing in dimensions, is placed over it." And,
occasionally, the gifts made by subordinate rulers to the
ghost of a supreme dead ruler, simulate the tribute paid to
him when living. Concerning a royal funeral in Toiiquin,
Tavernier writes: —
"There proceeds afterwards Six Princesses who carry Meat and
Drink for the deceased King. . . . Four Governours of the four
chief provinces of the Kingdom, each bearing a stick on his shoulder,
on which hangs a bag full of Gold and several Perfumes, and these
bags contain the Presents which the several Provinces make unto the
deceased King, for to be buried with his corps, that he may make use
of the same in the other World."
Xor can there be any doubt about the likeness of intention.
When we read that a chief among the New Caledonians says
to the ghost of his ancestor — " Compassionate father, here
is some food for you; eat it; be kind to us on account of
it; " or when the Yeddah, calling by name a deceased rela
tive, says — " Come and partake of this. Give us mainte
nance, as you did when living; " we see it to be undeniable
that present-giving to the dead is like present-giving to the
living, with the difference that the receiver is invisible.
Noting only that there is a like motive for a like propitia
tion of the undistinguished supernatural beings which
primitive men suppose to be all around them — noting that
whether it be in the fragments of bread and cake left for
elves by our Scandinavian ancestors, or in the eatables
which. Dyaks place on the tops of their houses to feed the
spirits, or in the portions of food cast aside and of drink
poured out for the ghosts before beginning their meals, by
various races throughout the world ; let us go on to observe
the developed present-making to the developed supernatural
being. The things given and the motives for giving them
remain the same; though the sameness is disguised by the
use of different words — oblations to a deity and presents to
a living person. The original identity is well shown in the
PRESENTS. 95
statement concerning the Greeks — " Gifts, as an old prov
erb says, determine the acts of gods and kings; " and it is
equally well shown by a verse in the Psalms (Ixxvi. 11) — -
" Vow, and pay unto the Lord your God : let all that be
round about him bring presents unto him that ought to be
f eared. " Observe the parallelism in detail.
Food and drink, which constitute the earliest kind of
propitiatory gift to a living person, and also the earliest
kind of propitiatory gift to a ghost, remain everywhere the
essential components of an oblation to a deity. As, where
political power is evolving, the presents sent to the chief
at first consist mainly of sustenance; so, where ancestor-
worship, developing, has expanded a ghost into a god, the
offerings have as elements common to them in all places
and times, things serving for nutrition. That this is so in
low societies no proof is needed ; and that it is so in higher
societies is also a conspicuous fact; though a fact ignored
where its significance is most worthy to be remarked. If a
Zulu slays an ox to secure the goodwill of his dead relative's
ghost, who complains to him in a dream that he has not
been fed — if among the Zulus this private act develops into
a public act when a bullock is periodically killed as " a pro
pitiatory Offering to the Spirit of the King's immediate
Ancestor; " we may, without impropriety, ask whether
there do not thus arise such acts as those of an Egyptian
king, who by hecatombs of oxen hopes to please the ghost of
his deified' father; but it is not supposable that there was
any kindred origin for the sacrifices of cattle to Jahveh, con
cerning which such elaborate directions are given in Leviti
cus. When we read that among the Greeks " it was cus
tomary to pay the same offices to the gods which men stand
in need of: the temples were their houses, sacrifices their
food, altars their tables; " it is permissible to observe the
analogy between these presents of eatables made to gods,
and the presents of eatables made at graves to the dead,
as being both derived from similar presents made to the
96 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
living; but that the presentation of meat, bread, fruits, and
liquors to Jahveh had a kindred derivation, is a thought
not to be entertained — not even though we have a complete
parallel between the cakes which Abraham bakes to refresh
the Lord when he comes to visit him in his tent on the
plains of Mamre, and the shew-bread kept on the altar and
from time to time replaced by other bread fresh and hot
(1 Sam. xxi, 6). Here, however, recognizing these paral-
lelisms, it may be added that though in later Hebrew times
the original and gross interpretation of sacrifices became
obscured, and though the primitive theory has since under
gone gradual dissipation, yet the form survives. The offer
tory of our Church still retains the words — " accept our
alms and oblations; " and at her coronation, Queen Victoria
offered on the altar, by the hands of the archbishop, " an
altar-cloth of gold and an ingot of gold," a sword, then
" bread and wine for the communion," then " a purse of
gold," followed by a prayer " to receive these oblations."
Evidence from all parts of the world thus proves that
oblations are at first literally presents. Animals are given
to kings, slain on graves, sacrificed in temples ; cooked food
is furnished to chiefs, laid on tombs, placed on altars ; first-
fruits are presented to living rulers, to dead rulers, to gods ;
here beer, here wine, here chica, is sent to a potentate,
offered to a ghost, and poured out as libation to a deity;
incense, burnt before ancient kings, and in some places
burnt before distinguished persons, is burnt before gods in
various places; and besides such consumable things, valua
bles of every kind, given to secure goodwill, are accumu
lated in royal treasuries and in sacred temples.
There is one further remark of moment. We saw that the
present to the visible ruler was at first propitiatory because
of its intrinsic worth, but came afterwards to have an
extrinsic propitiatory effect as implying loyalty. Similarly,
the presents to the invisible ruler, primarily considered as
directly useful, secondarily come to signify obedience; and
PRESENTS. 97
their secondary meaning gives that ceremonial character to
sacrifice which still survives.
§ 374. And now we come upon a remarkable sequence.
As the present to the ruler eventually develops into political
revenue, so the present to the god eventually develops into
ecclesiastical revenue.
Let us set out with that earliest stage in which no eccle
siastical organization exists. At this stage the present to
the supernatural being is often shared between him and
those who worship him. While the supernatural being is
propitiated by the gift of food, there is, by eating together,
established between him and his propitiators a bond of
union: implying protection on the one side and allegiance
on the other. The primitive notion that the nature of a
thing, inhering in all its parts, is acquired by those who
consume it, and that therefore those who consume two parts
of one thing, acquire from it some nature in common — that
same notion which initiates the practice of forming a broth
erhood by partaking of one another's blood, which instigates
the funeral rite of blood-offering, and which gives strength
to the claims established by joining in the same meal,
originates this prevalent usage of eating part of that which
is presented to the ghost or to the god. In some places the
people at large participate in the offering; in some places
the medicine-men or priests only; and in some places the
last practice is habitual while the first is occasional, as in
ancient Mexico, where communicants " who had partaken
of the sacred food were engaged to serve the god during
the subsequent year."
Here the fact which concerns us is that from the presents
thus used, there arises a maintenance for the sacerdotal
class. Among the Kukis the priest, to pacify the angry
deity who has made some one ill, takes, it may be a fowl,
which he says the god requires, and pouring its blood as an
offering on the ground while muttering praises, " then
98 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
deliberately sits down, roasts and eats the fowl, throws the
refuse into the jungle and returns home." The Battas of
Sumatra sacrifice to their gods, horses, buffaloes, goats,
dogs, fowls, " or whatever animal the wizard happens on
that day to be most inclined to eat." And by the Bustar
tribes in India, Kodo Pen " is worshipped at a small heap of
stones by every new-comer, through the oldest resident,
with fowls, eggs, grains, and a few copper coins, which
become the property of the officiating priest." Africa has
more developed societies which show us a kindred arrange
ment. In Dahomey, " those who have the ' cure of souls '
receive no regular pay, but live well upon the benevolences
of votaries: " in their temples, " small offerings are daily
given by devotees, and removed by the priests." Similarly
in Ashantee, " the revenue of the fetishmen is derived from
the liberality of the people. A moiety of the offerings
which are presented to the fetish belongs to the priests."
It is the same in Polynesia. Describing the Tahitian doc
tor as almost invariably a priest, Ellis states that he received
a fee, part of which was supposed to belong to the gods, be
fore commencing operations. So, too, was it in the an
cient states of Central America. A cross-examination
narrated by Oviedo, contains the passage:—
" FT. Do you offer anything else in your temples ?
' ' Ind. Every one brings from his house what he wishes to offer —
as fowls, fish, or maize, or other things — and the boys take it and put
it inside the temple.
" FT. Who eats the things thus offered ?
^ Ind. The father of the temple eats them, and what remains is
eaten by the boys."
And then in Peru, where worship of the dead was a main
occupation of the living, the accumulated gifts to ghosts and
gods had resulted in sacred estates, numerous and rich, out
of which the priests of all kinds were maintained. A
parallel genesis is shown us by ancient historic peoples.
Among the Greeks " the remains of the sacrifice are the
PRESENTS. 99
priests' fees/' and " all that served the gods were main
tained by the sacrifices and other holy offerings." Nor was
it otherwise with the Hebrews. In Leviticus ii. 10, we read
— " And that which is left of the meat offering shall be
Aaron's and his sons' " (the appointed priests) ; while other
passages entitle the priest to the skin of the offering, and
to the whole of the baked and fried offering. Neither does
the history of early Christianity fail to exhibit the like
development. " In the first ages of the Church, those
deposita pietatis which are mentioned by Tertullian were
all voluntary oblations." Afterwards " a more fixed main
tenance was necessary for the clergy; but still oblations
were made by the people. . . . These oblations [defined as
i whatever religious Christians offered to God and the
Church'],' which were at first voluntary, became after
wards, by continual payment, due by custom." In medi
aeval times a further stage in the transition is shown us:—
" Besides what was necessary for the communion of priests
and laymen, and that which was intended for eulogies, it
was at first the usage to offer all sorts of presents, which at a
later date were taken to the bishop's house and ceased to be
brought to the church." And then by continuation and
enlargement of such donations, growing into bequests, nom
inally to God and practically to the Church, there grew
up ecclesiastical revenues.
§ 375. The foregoing statements represent all presents
as made by inferiors to propitiate superiors; ignoring the
presents made by superiors to inferiors. The contrast be
tween the two in meaning, is well recognized where pres
ent-making is much elaborated, as in China. " At or after
the customary visits between superiors and inferiors, an
interchange of presents takes place; but those from the
former are bestowed as donations, while the latter are'
received as offerings : these being the Chinese terms for
such presents as pass between the emperor and foreign
100 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
princes." Concerning donations something must here be
said, though their ceremonial character is not marked.
As the power of the political head develops, until at
length he assumes universal ownership, there results a state
in which he finds it needful to give back part of that
which he has monopolized; and having been originally
subordinated by giving, his dependants are now, to a cer
tain extent, further subordinated by receiving. People of
whom it can be said, as of the Kukis, that " all the prop
erty they possess is by simple sufferance of the rajah,"
or people who, like the Dahomans, are owned in body and
estate by their king, are obviously so conditioned that
property having flowed in excess to the political centre
must flow down again from lack of other use. Hence, in
Dahomey, though no State-functionary is paid, the king
gives his ministers and officers royal bounty. Without
travelling further afield for illustrations, it will suffice if wre
note these relations of causes and effects in early European
times. Of the ancient Germans, Tacitus says — " The
chief must show his liberality, and the follower expects it.
He demands at one time this war-horse; at another, that
victorious lance imbrued with the enemy's blood. The
prince's table, however inelegant, must always be plentiful ;
it is the only pay of his followers." That is, a monopolizing
supremacy had, as its sequence, gratuities to dependants.
Mediaeval days in France were characterized by modified
forms of the same system. In the thirteenth century, " in
order that the princes of the blood, the whole royal house,
the great officers of the crown, and those ... of the
king's household, should appear with distinction, the king
gave them dresses according to the rank they held and
suitably to the season at which these solemn courts were
celebrated. These dresses were called liveries (UvrSes)
'because they were delivered," as the king's free gifts: a
statement showing how acceptance of such gifts went along
with subordination. It needs scarcely be added that
PRESENTS. 101
throughout the same stages of progress in Europe, the
scattering of largesse to the people by the kings, dukes, and
nobles, was similarly a concomitant of that servile position
in which such return as they got for their labour in addi
tion to daily sustenance, was in the shape of presents rather
than in the shape of wages. Moreover, we still have in vails
and Christmas-boxes to servants, &c., the remnants of a
system under which fixed remuneration was eked out by
gratuities — a system itself sequent upon the earlier system
under which gratuities formed the only remuneration.
Thus it becomes tolerably clear that while from presents
offered by subject persons, there eventually develop tribute,
taxes, and fees; from donations made by ruling persons
there eventually develop salaries.
§ 376. Something must be added concerning presents
passing between those who do not stand in acknowledged
relations of superior and inferior.
Consideration of these carries us back to the primitive
form of present-making, as it occurs between members of
alien societies; and on looking at some of the facts, there is
suggested a question of much interest — Whether from the
propitiatory gift made under these circumstances there does
not originate another important kind of social action?
Barter is not, as we are apt to suppose, universally under
stood. Cook, speaking of his failure to make any exchange
of articles with the Australians, says — " They had, indeed,
no idea of traffic." And other statements suggest that
when exchange begins, the thought of equivalence between
the things given and received scarcely arises. Of the
Ostyaks, who supplied them " with plenty of fish and wild
fowl," Bell remarks — " Give them only a little tobacco and
a dram of brandy, and they ask no more, not knowing the
use of money." Remembering that at first no means of
measuring values exists, and that the conception of equality
of value has to grow by use, it seems not impossible that
65
102 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
mutual propitiation by gifts was the act from which barter
arose: the expectation that the present received would be
of like worth with that given, being gradually established,
and the exchanged articles simultaneously losing the
character of presents. One may, indeed, see the connexion
between the two in the familiar cases of gifts made by
European travellers to native chiefs ; as where Mungo Park
writes — " Presented Mansa Knssan [the chief man of Juli-
funda] with some amber, coral, and scarlet, with which he
appeared to be perfectly satisfied, and sent a bullock in
return." Such transactions show us both the original
meaning of the initial present as propitiatory, and the idea
that the responsive present should have an approximately-
like value : implying informal barter. ^Nay more. Certain
usages of the ^orth American Indians suggest that even a
circulating medium may originate from propitiatory pres
ents. Catlin writes:—
"Wampum has been invariably manufactured, and highly valued
as a circulating medium (instead of coins, of which the Indians have
no knowledge) ; so many strings, or so many hand's-breadth, being
the fixed value of a horse, a gun, a robe, &c. In treaties, the wam
pum belt has been passed as the pledge of friendship, and from time
immemorial sent to hostile tribes, as the messenger of peace ; or paid
by so many fathoms' length, as tribute to conquering enemies."
Speculation aside, we have to note how the propitiatory
present becomes a social observance. That along with the
original form of it, signifying allegiance, there goes the
spread of it as a means to friendship, was shown in ancient
America. Of the Yucatanese we read that, " at their visits
the Indians always carry with them presents to be given
away, according to their position; those visited respond by
another gift." In Japan, so rigorously ceremonious, the
stages of the descent are well shown. There are the periodic
presents to the Mikado, expressive of loyalty; there is " the
giving of presents from inferiors to superiors; " and be
tween equals " it is customary on the occasion of a first visit
PRESENTS. 103
to a house to carry a present to the owner, who gives some
thing of equal value on returning the visit." Other races
show us this mutual propitiation taking other forms.
Markham, writing of Himalayan people, states that ex
changing caps is " as certain a mark of friendship in the
hills, as two chiefs in the plains exchanging turbans." But
the most striking development of gift-making into a form,
occurs in Bootan; where " between people of every rank
and station in life, the presenting of a silk scarf constantly
forms an essential part of the ceremonial of salutation."
"An inferior, on approaching a superior, presents the white silk
scarf; and, when dismissed, has one thrown over his neck, with the
ends hanging down in front. Equals exchange scarfs on meeting,
bending towards each other, with an inclination of the body. No in
tercourse whatever takes place without the intervention of a scarf;
it always accompanies every letter, being enclosed in the same packet
however distant the place to which it is despatched."
How gift-making, first developed into a ceremony by
fear of the chief ruler, and made to take a wider range by
fear of the powerful, is eventually rendered general by fear
of equals who may prove enemies if they are passed over
when others are propitiated, we may gather from Euro
pean history. Thus in Rome, " all the world gave or re
ceived New Year's gifts." Clients gave them to their
patrons; all the Romans gave them to Augustus. " He
was seated in the entrance-hall of his house; they defiled
before him, and every citizen holding his offering in his
hand, laid it, when passing, at the feet of that terrestrial
god ... the sovereign gave back a sum equal or supe
rior to their presents." Because of its association with
pagan institutions, this custom, surviving into Christian
times, was condemned by the Church. In 578 the Council
of Auxerre forbade New Year's gifts, which it character
ized in strong words. Ives, of Chartres, says — " There are
some who accept from others, and themselves give, devil
ish New Year's gifts." In the twelfth century, Maurice,
104 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
bishop of Paris, preached against bad people who " put their
faith in presents, and say that none will remain rich during
the year if he has not had a gift on New Year's day." Not
withstanding ecclesiastical interdicts, however, the custom
survived through the Middle Ages down to modern times.
Moreover, there simultaneously developed kindred periodic
ceremonies; such as, in France, the giving of Easter eggs.
And present-makings of these kinds have undergone
changes like those which wre traced in other kinds of pres
ent-makings : beginning as voluntary, they have become in
a measure compulsory.
§ 377. Spontaneously made among primitive men to
one whose goodwill is desired, the gift thus becomes, as soci
ety evolves, the originator of many things.
To the political head, as his power grows, presents are
prompted partly by fear of him and partly by the wish for
his aid; and such presents, at first propitiatory only in vir
tue of their intrinsic worth, grow to be propitiatory as ex
pressions of loyalty: from the last of which comes present-
giving as a ceremonial, and from the first of which comes
present-giving as tribute, eventually changing i^ito taxes.
Simultaneously, the supplies of food &c., placed on the
grave of the dead man to please his ghost, developing into
larger and repeated offerings at the grave of the distin
guished dead man, and becoming at length sacrifices on the
altar of the god, differentiate in an analogous way: the
present of meat, drink, or clothes, at first supposed to beget
goodwill because actually useful, becomes, by implication,
significant of allegiance. Hence, making the gift grows
into an act of worship irrespective of the value of the thing
given; while, as affording sustenance to the priest, the gift
makes possible the agency by which the worship is con
ducted. From oblations originate Church revenues.
Thus we unexpectedly come upon further proof that the
control of ceremony precedes the political and ecclesiastical
PRESENTS. 105
controls; since it appears that from actions which the first
initiates, eventually result the funds by which the others
are maintained.
When we ask what relations present-giving has to differ
ent social types, we note, in the first place, that there is little
of it in simple societies where chieftainship does not exist
or is unstable. Conversely, it prevails in compound and
doubly-compound societies; as throughout the semi-civil
ized states of Africa, those of Polynesia, those of ancient
America, where the presence of stable headships, primary
and secondary, gives both the opportunity and the motive.
Recognizing this truth, we are led to recognize the
deeper truth that present-making, while but indirectly re
lated to the social type as simple or compound, is directly
related to it as more or less militant in organization.
The desire to propitiate is great in proportion as the per
son to be propitiated is feared; and therefore the con
quering chief, and still more the king who has made him
self by force of arms ruler over many chiefs, is one whose
goodwill is most anxiously sought by acts which simultane
ously gratify his avarice and express submission. Hence,
then, the fact that the ceremony of making gifts to the
ruler prevails most in societies that are either actually
militant, or in which chronic militancy 'during past times
has evolved the despotic government appropriate to it.
Hence the fact that throughout the East where this social
type exists everywhere, the making of presents to those in
authority is everywhere imperative. Hence the fact that in
early European ages, while the social activities were mili
tant and the structures corresponded, loyal presents to
kings from individuals and corporate bodies were univer
sal; while donations from superiors to inferiors, also grow
ing out of that state of complete dependence which accom
panied militancy, were common.
The like connexion holds with religious offerings. In
the extinct militant States of the New World, sacrifices
106 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
to gods were perpetual, and their shrines were being ever
enriched by deposited valuables. Papyri, wall-paintings,
and sculptures, show us that among ancient Eastern na
tions, highly militant in their activities and types of struc
ture, oblations to deities were large and continual ; and that
vast amounts of property were devoted to making their
temples glorious. During early and militant times through
out Europe, gifts to God and the Church were more general
and extensive than they are in our relatively industrial
times. It is observable, too, how, even now, that representa
tive of the primitive oblation which we still have in the
bread and wine of the mass and the sacrament (offered to
God before being consumed by communicants), recurs less
frequently here than in Catholic societies, which are rela
tively more militant in type of organization; while the
offering of incense, Avhich is one of the primitive forms of
sacrifice among various peoples and survives in the Catholic
service, has disappeared from the authorized service in Eng
land. ^Nor in our own society do we fail to trace a kindred
contrast. For while within the Established Church, which
forms part of that regulative structure developed by mili
tancy, sacrificial observances continue, they are not per
formed by that most unecclesiastical of sects, the Quakers;
who, absolutely unmilitant, show us also by the absence of
an established priesthood, and by the democratic form of
their government, the type of organization most character
istic of industrialism.
The like holds even with the custom of present-giving
for purposes of social propitiation. We see this on com
paring European nations, which, otherwise much upon a par
in their stages of progress, differ in the degrees to which
industrialism has qualified militancy. In Germany, where
periodic making of gifts among relatives and friends is a
universal obligation, and in France, where the burden
similarly entailed is so onerous that at the ~New Year and at
Easter, people not unfrequently leave home to escape it,
PRESENTS. 107
this social usage survives in greater strength than in Eng
land, less militant in organization.
Of this kind of ceremony, then, as of the kinds already
dealt with, we may say that, taking shape with the estab
lishment of that political headship which militancy pro
duces, it develops with the development of the militant type
of social structure, and declines with the development of
the industrial type.
CHAPTEK V.
VISITS.
§ 378. One may go to the house of a blameworthy man
to reproach him, or to that of an inferior who is in trouble
to give aid, or to that of a reputed oddity to gratify
curiosity: a visit is not intrinsically a mark of homage.
Visits of certain kinds,, however, become extrinsically
marks of homage. In its primitive form, making a present
implies going to see the person it is made to. Hence, by asso
ciation, this act comes to be itself indicative of respect, and
eventually acquires the character of a reverential ceremony.
From this it results that just as the once-voluntary pres
ent grows into the compulsory present, and ends in tribute
periodically paid; so the concomitant visit loses its volun
tary character, and, as political supremacy strengthens, be
comes an expression of subordination demanded by the
ruler at stated intervals.
§ 370. Naturally this ceremony takes no definite shape
where chiefly power is undecided; and hence is not usual in
simple tribes. Even in societies partially compounded, it
characterizes less the relations between the common people
and the rulers next above them, than the relations between
these subordinate rulers and superior rulers. Still there
are places where subjects show their local heads the consid
eration implied by this act. Some of the Coast Negroes,
the Joloffs for example, come daily to their village chiefs
108
VISITS. 109
to salute them; and among the Kaffirs, the Great Place
(as the chief's residence is termed) is the resort of all the
principal men of the tribe, who attend " for the purpose of
paying their respects to the chief.'7
But, as just implied, the visits chiefly to be noted as
elements in ceremonial government, are those which sec
ondary rulers and officials of certain grades are required to
pay. In a compound society headed by a chief who has
been victorious over other chiefs, there arises the need
for periodic demonstrations of allegiance. Habitually the
central ruler, knowing that these subjugated local rulers
must chafe under their humiliation, and ever suspecting
conspiracies among them, insists on their frequently
recurring presence at his place of residence. lie thus
satisfies himself in two ways: he receives re-assurances of
loyalty by gifts brought and homage performed, while he
gets proof that his guests are not then engaged in trying
to throw off his yoke.
Hence the fact that in compound societies the periodic
visit to the king is a political ceremony. Concerning a
conquered people in ancient Peru, we read that the Yncas
" ordered that, during certain months in the year, the native
chiefs should reside at the court of Cuzco ; " and, speaking
of other subordinate rulers, F. de Xeres says — " Some of
these chiefs [who came to visit Atahuallpa] were lords of
30,000 Indians, all subject to Atahuallpa." In ancient
Mexico a like usage is shown to have had a like origin.
From the chiefs of the conquered province of Chalco,
certain indications of submission were required; and
" Montezuma II. asked them, besides, to come to Mexico
twice a-year, and so take part in the festivals." Africa in
our own day furnishes an illustration showing at once the
motive for the usage and the reluctant feeling with which it
is sometimes conformed to. In Ashantee,
" At that great annual festival [the yam-custom] all the caboceers
and captains, and the greater number of the tributary kings or chiefs,
HO CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
are expected to appear in the capital. . . . Sometimes a chief who
suspects that he has become obnoxious to the king, will not trust
himself in the capital without the means of defence or intimidation."
Further, as showing how in Africa the visit is a recognized
expression of subordination, we have the fact that " it is not
' etiquette ' for the king of Dahomey to visit even his high
est officers.'7 And then Madagascar and Siam yield in
stances in which the political meaning of the visit is shown
by making it to a proxy ruler. Ellis mentions certain
Malagasy chiefs as " going to the residence of the governor,
to present their homage to the sovereign's representative,
according to the custom of the country at this season;"
and, speaking of the " thirteen other kings ?? in his domin
ions who every year pay tribute to the king of Siam, Bow-
ring quotes evidence that " formerly they used to come to
the city of Odiaa to make their sumlaya (which was to kiss
the sword of their Grand Senor); and now, by the Royal
command, they come to make it before his viceroy." Writ
ing in the seventeenth century, Tavernier describes the
extreme to which this kind of ceremony was carried in the
empire of the Mogul. " All those that are at Court are
oblig'd, under a considerable Penalty, to come twice every
day to salute the King in the Assembly, once about ten or
eleven o'clock in the morning, when he renders justice;
and the second time about six hours at night." And such
scepticism as we might reasonably feel concerning this
statement, is removed on finding that at the present time
in Jummoo and Kashmir, the Maharaja receives bi-diurnal
visits from " all of a certain standing." Till lately, Japan
furnishes various illustrations of the usage and its mean
ings. There was the yearly visit made by the secular
monarch to the Mikado, originally in person and then by
proxy; there were the yearly visits of the nobles to court—
the superior ones doing homage to the emperor himself and
the inferior ones to his ministers; and, still more signifi
cantly, there were the recurring migrations of certain lords,
VISITS. HI
the Siomio, who were " allowed but six months stay in their
hereditary dominions; the other half-year they mnst spend
in the imperial capital, Jedo, where their wives and fam
ilies are kept all the year round as hostages of their fidel-
ity."
How in feudal Europe like customs arose from like
causes, the reader will need only to be reminded. Periodical
visits were made by vassals to their suzerains and by these to
their higher suzerains — the kings; prolonged residences at
places of government grew out of these periodical visits ; and
the payment of such visits having come to be a recognized
expression of allegiance, absence on the appointed occasions
was considered a sign of insubordination. As says de
Tocqueville, giving an interpretation which partially recog
nizes the origin of the usage :—
"The abandonment of a country life by the nobility [in France]
. . . was, no doubt, an idea almost always pursued by the kings of
France, during the three last centuries of the monarchy, to separate
the gentry from the people, and to attract the former to Court and to
public employments. This was especially the case in the seventeenth
century, when the nobility were still an object of fear to royalty."
To which facts add that among ourselves down to the pres
ent day, going to court at intervals, expected specially of all
who hold official positions above a certain grade, and ex
pected generally of members of the governing classes, is
taken as an expression of loyalty; and continued absence is
interpreted as a mark of disrespect, bringing disfavour.
§ 380. In the last chapter we saw that to deceased persons
as well as to living persons, propitiatory presents are made.
"We have now to observe that in the one case as in the other
visits are entailed.
As in primitive beliefs, the powers of men's ghosts are
greater than were those of the men themselves, it results
that present-making visits to the dead begin even earlier
than do those to the living. In § 83 it was shown that
112 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
among the Irmuits (Esquimaux), who have no chiefs, and
therefore no visits expressing political allegiance, there are
occasional journeys with gifts to the graves of departed
relations. In § 85 instances of such periodic journeys per
formed by various peoples, savage and semi-civilized, were
given. And in § 14-i we saw how, in subsequent stages,
these grow into quasi-religious and religious pilgrimages.
Here, from the usages of more advanced peoples, may
be given two examples showing how close is the relation
between these visits paid to the deified and undeified dead,
and visits paid to the living. Describing the observances
on All Saints' Day in Spain, Rose writes — " This festival is
observed for three days, and . . . the streets are filled with
holiday-makers. Yet none of these forget to walk down to
the house of their dead, and gaze on it with respect." And
then in Japan, where sacred and secular are but little differ
entiated, these visits made to gods, ancestors, superiors, and
equals, are intimately associated. Says Koempfer:—
"Their festivals and holidays are days sacred rather to mutual
compliments and civilities, than to acts of holiness and devotion, for
which reason they call them also rebis, which implies as much as vis
iting days. It is true, indeed, that they think it a duty incumbent
on them, on those days, to go to the temple of Tensio Dai Sin, the
first and principal object of their worship, and the temples of their
other gods and deceased great men. . . . Yet the best part of their
time is spent with visiting and complimenting their superiors, friends,
and relations. "
As further proving how important in super-ceremonious
Japan is the visit as a mark of subordination, while it also
discloses a curious sequence from the Japanese theory that
their sacred monarch rules the other world as well as this
world, let me add an extract showing that the gods them
selves pay visits.
" All the other kamis or gods of the country are under an obliga
tion to visit him [the Mikado, the living kami] once a year, and to
wait upon his sacred person, though in an invisible manner, during
the tenth month . . . which is by them called Kaminatsuki, that is,
VISITS. 113
the month without gods . . . because the gods are supposed not to
be at home in their temples, but at court waiting upon their Dairi."
These and many kindred facts force on us the conclusion
that from propitiatory visits, now to the living and now to
the dead, have been developed those visits of worship which
we class as religious. When we watch in a continental
cemetery, relatives periodically coming to hang fresh im
mortelles round tombs, and observe how the decayed
wreaths on unvisited tombs are taken to imply lack of re
spect for the dead — when we remember how in Catholic
countries journeys are made with kindred feelings to the
shrines of semi-deified men called saints — when we note that
between pilgrimages of this kind and pilgrimages made in
days gone by to the Holy Sepulchre, the differences are sim
ply between the distances travelled and the ascribed degrees
of holiness of the places; we see that the primitive man's
visit to the grave, where the ghost is supposed to reside, orig
inates the visit to the temple regarded as the residence of the
god, and that both are allied to visits of reverence to the liv
ing. Remote as appear the going to church and the going to
court, they are divergent forms of the same thing. That
which once linked the two has now almost lapsed; but we
need only go back to early times, when a journey to the
abode of a living superior had the purpose of carrying a
present, doing homage, and expressing submission, while
the journey to a temple was made for offering oblations,
professing obedience, uttering praises, to recognize the
parallelism. Before the higher creeds arose, the unseen
ruler visited by the religious worshipper was supposed to be
present in his temple, just as much as was the seen ruler
visited at his court; and though now the presence of the
unseen ruler in his temple is conceived in a vaguer way, he
is still supposed to be in closer proximity than usual.
§ 381. As with other ceremonies so with this ceremony.
What begins as a propitiation of the most powerful man
CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
—now living, now dead, now apotheosized — extends
as a propitiation of men who are less powerful; and,
continuing to spread, finally becomes a propitiation of
equals.
How, as tacitly expressing subordination, the visit comes
to be looked for by one who claims superiority, and to be
recognized as an admission of inferiority by one who pays
it, is well shown in a story which Palgrave narrates. Fey-
sul, king of the Wahhabees, ordered his son Sa'ood to pay a
visit to Abd- Allah, an elder brother. " i I am the stranger
guest, while he is an inhabitant of the town/ replied
Sa'ood, i and it is accordingly his duty to call first on
me.' " . . . Feysul entreated Abd- Allah " to fulfil the
obligation of a first visit. But the elder son proved no less
intractable."
Peoples in various parts of the world supply facts having
kindred meanings. The old traveller Tavernier, writes that
"the Persians are very much accustomed to make mutual
Visits one to another at their solemn Festivals. The more
noble sort stay at home to expect the Visits of their In
feriors." So in Africa. Of a rich Indian trader, living
at Unyanyembe, Grant says — " Moosah sat from morn till
night . . . receiving salutes and compliments from the rich
and poor." Passing to Europe we have, in ancient Rome,
the morning calls of clients on their patrons. And in an old
French book of manners translated into English in the sev
enteenth century, we read — " A great person is to be visited
often, and his health to be inquir'd after."
These instances sufficiently indicate that gradual de
scent of the visit of ceremony which has finally brought it
down to an ordinary civility — a civility which, however, still
bears traces of its origin; since it is regarded more as due
from an inferior to a superior than conversely, and is taken
as a condescension when paid by a superior to an inferior.
Evidently the morning call is a remote sequence of that
system under which a subordinate ruler had from time to
VISITS. H5
time to show loyalty to^a chief ruler by presenting himself
to do homage.
§ 382. In this case as in preceding cases, we have, lastly,
to note the relations between visit-making and types of
social organization.
That in simple tribes without settled headships, it cannot
become a political ceremony is obvious; and that it begins
to prevail in societies compounded to the second and third
degrees, the evidence clearly shows. As before, however,
so now, we find on grouping and comparing the facts that
it is not so much with the size of the society as with its
structure, that this ceremony is connected. Being one of
the expressions of obedience, it is associated with develop
ment of the militant organization. Hence as proved by the
instances given, it grows into a conspicuous element of cere
monial rule in nations which are under those despotic forms
of government which militancy produces — ancient Mexico
and ancient Peru in the Xew World, China and Japan in
the East. And the earlier stages of European societies ex
emplified the relation.
The converse relation is no less manifest. Among our
selves, characterized as we now are by predominance of
industrialism over militancy, the visit as a manifestation of
loyalty is no longer imperative. And in the substitution of
cards for calls, we may observe a growing tendency to dis
pense with it as a formality of social intercourse.
CHAPTEE VI.
OBEISANCES.
§ 383. Concerning a party of Shoshones surprised by
them, Lewis and Clarke write — " Tlie other two, an elderly
woman and a litle girl, seeing we were too near for them to
escape, sat on the ground, and holding down their heads
seemed as if reconciled to the death which they supposed
awaited them. The same habit of holding down the head
and inviting the enemy to strike, when all chance of escape
is gone, is preserved in Egypt to this day." Here we are
shown an effort to propitiate by absolute submission; and
from acts so prompted originate obeisances.
When, at the outset, in illustration of the truth that
ceremony precedes not only social evolution but human
evolution, I named the behaviour of a small dog which
throws itself on its back in presence of an alarming great
dog, probably many readers thought I was putting on this
behaviour a forced construction. They would not have
thought so had they known that a parallel mode of beha
viour occurs among human beings. Livingstone says of the
Batoka salutation — " they throw themselves on their backs
on the ground, and, rolling from side to side, slap the out
side of their thighs as expressions of thankfulness and
welcome." The assumption of this attitude, which implies
— " You need not subdue me, I am subdued already," is
the best means of obtaining safety. Resistance arouses the
destructive instincts; and prostration on the back nega-
116
OBEISANCES. 117
tives resistance. Another attitude equally helpless, more
elaborately displays subjugation. " At Tonga Tabu . . .
the common people show their great chief . . . the greatest
respect imaginable by prostrating themselves before him,
and by putting his foot on their necks." The like occurs in
Africa. Laird says the messengers from the king of Fundah
" each bent down and put my foot on their heads." And
among historic peoples this position, originated by defeat,
became a position assumed in acknowledging submission.
From such primary obeisances representing completely
the attitudes of the conquered beneath the conqueror, there
come obeisances which express in various ways the subjec
tion of the slave to the master. Of old in the East this
subjection was expressed when " Ben-hadad's servants
girded sackcloth on their loins, and put ropes on their heads,
and came to the king of Israel." In Peru, where the
militant type of organization was pushed so far, a sign of
humility was to have the hands tied and a rope round the
neck. In both cases there was an assumption of those
bonds which originally marked captives brought from the
battle-field. Along with this mode of simulating slavery
to the Ynca, another mode was employed. Servitude had to
be indicated by carrying a burden; and " this taking up a
load to enter the presence of Atahuallpa, is a ceremony
which \vas performed by all the lords who have reigned in
that land."
These extreme instances I give at the outset by way of
showing the natural genesis of the obeisance as a means of
obtaining mercy ; first from a victor and then from a ruler.
A full conception of the obeisance, however, includes an
other element. In the introductory chapter it was pointed
out that sundry signs of pleasure, having a physio-psycho
logical origin, which occur in presence of those for whom
there is affection, pass into complimentary observances; be
cause men are pleased by supposing themselves liked, and
are therefore pleased by demonstrations of liking. So that
63
CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
while trying to propitiate a superior by expressing submis
sion to him, there is generally an endeavour further to pro
pitiate him by showing joy at his presence. Keeping in
view both these elements of the obeisance, let us now con
sider its varieties; with their political, religious, and social
uses.
§ 384. Though the loss of powder to resist which prostra
tion on the face implies, does not reach the utter defenceless-
ness implied by prostration on the back, yet it is great
enough to make it a sign of profound homage; and hence
it occurs as an obeisance wherever despotism is unmitigated
and subordination slavish. In ancient America, before a
Chibcha cazique, " people had to appear prostrate and with
their faces touching the ground/7 In Africa, " when he
addresses the king, a Borghoo man stretches himself on the
earth as flat as a flounder." Asia furnishes many instances.
" When preferring a complaint, a Khond or Panoo will
throw himself on his face with his hands joined; " and
while, in Siam, " before the nobles all subordinates are in a
state of reverent prostration, the nobles themselves, in the
presence of the sovereign, exhibit the same crawling obei
sance." Similarly in Polynesia. Falling on the face was a
mark of submission among the Sandwich Islanders: the
king did so to Cook when he first met him. And in the rec
ords of ancient historic peoples kindred illustrations are
given ; as when Mephibosheth fell on his face and did rever
ence before David ; or as when the king of Bithynia fell on
his face before the Roman senate. In some cases this atti
tude of the conquered before the conqueror, has its meaning
emphasized by repetition. Bootan supplies an instance:—
' They . . . made before the Raja nine prostrations, which
is the obeisance paid to him by his subjects whenever they
are permitted to approach."
Every kind of ceremony is apt to have its primitive
character obscured by abridgment; and by abridgment
OBEISANCES. 119
this profoundest of obeisances is rendered a less profound
one. In performing a full-length prostration there is
passed through an attitude in which the body is on the
knees with the head on the ground ; and to rise, it is needful
to draw up the knees before raising the head and getting
on the feet. Hence this attitude may be considered as an
incomplete prostration. It is a very general one. Among
the Coast Negroes, if a native " goes to visit his superior, or
meets him by chance, he immediately falls on his knees,
and thrice successively kisses the earth." In acknowl-
ment of his inferiority, the king of the Brass people never
spoke to the king of the Ibos " without going down on his
knees and touching the ground with his head." At Em-
bomma, on the Congo, " the mode of salutation is by gently
clapping the hands, and an inferior at the same time goes
on his knees and kisses the bracelet on the superior's ancle."
Often the humility of this obeisance is increased by
emphasizing the contact with the earth. On the lower
Niger, " as a mark of great respect, men prostrate them
selves, and strike their heads against the ground." When,
in past ages, the Emperor of Russia was crowned, the nobil
ity did homage by " bending down their heads, and knock
ing them at his feet to the very ground." In China at the
present time, among the eight kinds of obeisances, increas
ing in humility, the fifth is kneeling and striking the head
on the ground ; the sixth, kneeling and thrice knocking the
head, which again doubled makes the seventh, and trebled,
the eighth: this last being due to the Emperor and to
Heaven. Among the Hebrews, repetition had a kindred
meaning. " Jacob bowed himself to the ground seven
timers, until he came near to his brother."
Naturally this attitude of the conquered man, used by
the slave before his master and the subject before his ruler,
becomes that of the worshipper before his deity. We find
complete prostrations made whether the being to be propiti
ated is visible or invisible. " Abraham fell upon his face "
120 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
before God when lie covenanted with him; " Nebuchadnez
zar fell upon his face and worshipped Daniel; " and when
Nebuchadnezzar set up a golden image there was a threat
of death on " whoso falleth not down and worshippeth."
Similarly, the incomplete prostration in presence of kings
recurs in presence of deities. When making obeisances to
their idols, the Mongols touch the ground with the forehead.
The Japanese in their temples " fall down upon their knees,
bow their head quite to the ground, slowly and with great
humility.'7 And sketches of Mahommedans at their devo
tions familiarize us with a like attitude.
§ 385. From the positions of prostration on back or
face, and of semi-prostration on knees, we pass to sundry oth
ers ; which, however, continue to imply relative inability to
resist. In some cases it is permissible to vary the attitude, as
in Dahomey, where " the highest officers lie before the king
in the position of Romans upon the triclinium. At times
they roll over upon their bellies, or relieve themselves by
standing l on all fours.7 7 Duran states that " cowering . . .
was, with the Mexicans, the posture of respect, as with us is
genuflexion.77 Crouching shows homage among the New
Caledonians; as it does in Fiji, and in Tahiti.
Other changes in attitudes of this class are entailed by
the necessities of locomotion. In Dahomey " when ap
proaching royalty they either crawl like snakes or shuffle
forward on their knees.77 When changing their places be
fore a superior, the Siamese " drag themselves on their
hands and knees.77 In Java an inferior must " walk with
his hams upon his heels until he is out of his superiors
sight.77 Similarly with the subjects of a Zulu king — even
with his wives. And in Loango, extension of this attitude
to the household appears not to be limited to the court:
wives in general " dare not speak to them [their husbands]
but upon their bare knees, and in meeting them must creep
upon their hands.77 A neighbouring state furnishes an in-
OBEISANCES. 121
stance of gradation in these forms of partial prostration ; and
a recognized meaning in the gradation. The Dakro, a
woman who bears messages from the Dahoman King to the
Men, goes on all fours before the king; and " as a rule she
goes on all fours to the Men, and only kneels to smaller men,
who become quadrupeds to her."
Here we come, incidentally, upon a further abridgment
of the original prostration; wyhence results one of the most
widely-spread obeisances. As from the entirely prone
posture we pass to the posture of the Mahommedan worship
per with forehead on the ground ; so from this we pass to the
posture on all fours, and from this, by raising the body, to
simple kneeling. That kneeling is, and has been in count
less places and times, a form of political homage, a form of
domestic homage, and a form of religious homage, needs no
showing. We will note only that it is, and has been, in all
cases associated with coercive government; as in Africa,
where " by thus constantly practising genuflexion upon the
hard ground, their [the Dahomans'] knees in time become
almost as hard as their heels; " as in Japan, where " on
leaving the presence of the Emperor, officers walk back
wards on their knees; " as in China, " where the Viceroy's
children ... as they passed by their father's tent, fell on
their knees and bowed three times, with their faces towards
the ground; " and as in mediaeval Europe, where serfs knelt
to their masters and feudal vassals to their suzerains.
l^ot dwelling on the transition from descent on both
knees to descent on one knee, which, less abject, conies a
stage nearer the erect attitude, it will suffice to note the
transition from kneeling on one knee to bending the knee.
That this form of obeisance is an abridgment, is well shown
us by the Japanese.
" On meeting, they show respect by bending the knee; and when
they wish to do unusual honour to an individual they place them-
sel.ves on the knee and bow down to the ground. But this is never
done in the streets, where they merely make a motion as if they were
122 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
going to kneel. When they salute a person of rank, they bend the
knee in such a manner as to touch the ground with their fingers."
\Vo are shown the same thing equally well, or better, in
China; where, among the specified gradations of obei
sance, the third is denned as bending the knee, and the
fourth as actual kneeling. Manifestly that which still sur
vives among ourselves as the curtesy with the one sex, and
that which until recently survived with the other sex as the
scrape (made by a backward sweep of the right foot), are
both of them vanishing forms of the going down 011 one
knee.
There remains only the accompanying bend of the body.
This, while the first motion passed through in making a
complete prostration, is also the last motion that survives as
the prostration becomes stage by stage abridged. In.
various places we meet indications of this transition.
" Among the Soosoos, even the wives of a great man, when
speaking to him, bend their bodies, and place one hand upon
each knee; this is done also when passing by." In Samoa,
" in passing through a room where a chief is sitting, it is
disrespectful to walk erect; the person must pass along
with his body bent downwards." Of the ancient Mexicans
who, during an assembly, crouched before their chief, we
read that " when they retired, it was done with the head
lowered." And then in the Chinese ritual of ceremony,
obeisance number two, less humble than bending the -knee,
is bowing low with the hands joined. Bearing in mind
that there are insensible transitions between the humble
salaam of the Hindoo, the profound bow which in Europe
shows great respect, and the moderate bend of the head
expressive of consideration, we cannot doubt that the famil
iar and sometimes scarcely-perceptible nod, is the last trace
of the prostration.
These several abridgments of the prostration which
we see occur in doing political homage and social hom
age, occur also in doing religious homage. Of the Con-
OBEISANCES. 123
goese Bastian says that when they have to speak to a supe
rior —
"They kneel, turn the face half aside, and stretch out the hands
towards the person addressed, which they strike together at every
address. They might have sat as models to the Egyptian priests
when making the representations on the temple walls, so striking is
the resemblance between what is represented there and what actually
takes place here."
And we may note kindred parallelisms in European relig
ious observances. There is the going on both knees and the
going on one knee ; and there are the bowings and curtesy-
ings on certain occasions at the name of Christ.
§ 386. As already explained, along with the act express
ing humility, the complete obeisance includes some act ex
pressing gratification. To propitiate the superior effectually
it is needful at once to imply — " I am your slave/' and —
" I love you."
Certain of the instances cited above have exemplified
the union of these two factors. Along with, the attitude of
abject submission assumed by the Batoka, we saw that
there go rhythmic blows of the hands against the thighs.
In some of the cases named, clapping of the hands, also
indicating joy, was described as being an accompaniment of
movements showing subjection; and many others may be
added. Nobles who approach the king of Loango, " clap
their hands two or three times, and then cast themselves at
his majesty's feet into the sand." Speke says of certain
attendants of the king of Uganda, that they " threw
themselves in line upon their bellies, and, wriggling like
fish . . . whilst they continued floundering, kicking about
their legs, rubbing their faces, and patting their hands
upon the ground." Going on their knees to superiors, the
Balonda " continue the salutation of clapping the hands
until the great ones have passed; " and a like use of the
hands occurs in Dahomey. A further rhythmical
CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
movement having like meaning must be added. Already
we have seen that jumping, as a natural sign of delight, is a
friendly salute among the Fuegians, and that it recurs in
Loango as a mark of respect to the king. Africa furnishes
another instance. Grant narrates that the king of Karague
" received the salutations of his people, who, one by one,
shrieked and sprang in front of him, swearing allegiance."
Let such saltatory movements be systematized, as they are
likely to be during social progress, and they will constitute
the dancing with which a ruler is sometimes saluted; as in
the before-named case of the king of Bogota, and as in the
case Williams gives in his account of Fiji, where an inferior
chief and his suite, entering the royal presence, " per
formed a dance, which they finished by presenting their
clubs and upper dresses to the Somo-Somo king."
Of the other simulated signs of pleasure commonly
forming part of the obeisance, kissing is the most conspicu
ous. This, of course, has to take such form as consists with,
the humility of the prostration or kindred attitude. As
shown in certain foregoing instances, we have kissing the
earth when the superior cannot be approached close enough
for kissing the feet or the garment. Others may be added.
" It is the custom at Eboe, when the king is out, and indeed
indoors as well, for the principal people to kneel on the
ground and kiss it three times when he passes; " and the
ancient Mexican ambassadors, on coming to Cortes, " first
touched the ground with their hands and then kissed it."
This, in the ancient East, expressed submission of con
quered to conqueror; and is said to have gone as far as kiss
ing the footmarks of the conqueror's horse. Abyssinia,
where the despotism is extreme and the obeisances servile,
supplies a modification. In Shoa, kissing the nearest inani
mate object belonging to a superior or a benefactor, is a
sign of respect and thanks. From this we pass to
licking the feet and kissing the feet. Of a Malagasy chief
Drury says — " he had scarcely seated himself at his door,
OBEISANCES. 125
when his wife came out crawling on her hands and knees
till she came to him, and then licked his feet ... all the
women in the town saluted their husbands in the same man
ner.'' Slaves did the like to their masters. So in ancient
Peru, "when the chiefs came before [ Atahuallpa] , they
made great obeisances, kissing his feet and hands." Egyp
tian wall-paintings represent this extreme homage; and in
Assyrian records Sennacherib mentions that Menahem
of Samaria came up to bring presents and to kiss his feet.
" Kissing his feet " was part of the reverence shown to
Christ by the woman with the box of ointment. At the
present day among the Arabs, inferiors kiss the feet, the
knees, or the garments of their superiors. Kissing the
Sultan's feet is a usage in Turkey; and Sir R. K. Porter
narrates that in acknowledgment of a present, a Persian
" threw himself on the ground, kissed mv knees and my
feet."
Kissing the hand is a less humiliating observance than
kissing the feet; mainly, perhaps, because it does not in
volve a prostration. This difference of implication is recog
nized in regions remote from one another. In Tonga,
" when a person salutes a superior relation, he kisses the
hand of the party ; if a very superior relation, he kisses the
foot." And the women who wait on the Arabian princesses,
kiss their hands when they do them the favour not to suffer
them to kiss their feet or the borders of their robes. The
prevalence of this obeisance as expressing loving submis
sion, is so great as to render illustration superfluous.
What is implied, where, instead of kissing another's
hand, the person making the obeisance kisses his own hand?
Does the one symbolize the other, as being the nearest ap
proach to it possible under the circumstances? This ap
pears a hazardous inference; but there is evidence justify
ing it. D'Arvieux says —
"An oriental pays his respects to a person of superior station by
kissing his hand and putting it to his forehead ; but if the superior be
126 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
of a condescending temper, he will snatch away his hand as soon as
the other has touched it ; then the inferior puts his own fingers to his
lips and afterwards to his forehead."
This, I think, makes it clear that the common custom of
kissing the hand to another, originally expressed the wish,
or the willingness, to kiss his hand.
Here, as before, the observance, beginning as a spon
taneous propitiation of conqueror by conquered, of master
by slave, of ruler by ruled, early passes into a religious pro
pitiation also. To the ghost, and to the deity developed
from the ghost, these actions of love and liking are used.
That embracing and kissing of the lower extremities, which
was among the Hebrews an obeisance to the living person,
Egyptian wall-paintings represent as an obeisance made to
the mummy enclosed in its case; and then, in pursuance of
this action, we have kissing the feet of statues of gods in
pagan Rome and of holy images among Christians. An
cient Mexico furnished an instance of the transition from
kissing the ground as a political obeisance, to a modified kiss
ing the ground as a religious obeisance. Describing an oath
Clavigero says — " Then naming the principal god, or any
other they particularly reverenced, they kissed their hand,
after having touched the earth with it." In Peru " the
manner of worship was to open the hands, to make some
noise with the lips as of kissing, and to ask what they
wished, at the same time offering the sacrifice; " and Garci-
lasso, describing the libation to the Sun, adds — " At the
same time they kissed the air two or three times, which
. . . was a token of adoration among these Indians." ^Kor
have European races failed to furnish kindred facts. Kiss
ing the hand to the statue of a god was a Roman form of
adoration.
Once more, saltatory movements, which being natural
expressions of delight become complimentary acts before
a visible ruler, become acts of worship before an invisible
ruler. David danced before the ark. Dancing wras
OBEISANCES. 127
originally a religions ceremony among the Greeks: from
the earliest times the u worship of Apollo was connected
with a religious dance." King Pepin, " like King David,
forgetful of the regal purple, in his joy bedewed his costly
robes with tears, and danced before the relics of the blessed
martyr." And in the Middle Ages there were religious
dances in churches; as there are still in Christian churches
at Jerusalem.
§ 387. To interpret another scries of observances we
must go back to the prostration in its original form. I refer
to those expressions of submission which are made by put
ting dust or ashes on some part of the body.
Men cannot roll over in the sand in front of their king,
or crawl before him, or repeatedly knock their heads against
the ground, without soiling themselves. Hence the adher
ing dirt is recognized as a concomitant mark of subjection;
and comes to be gratuitously assumed, and artificially in
creased, in the anxiety to propitiate. Already the associa
tion between this act and the act of prostration has been in
cidentally exemplified by cases from Africa; and Africa
furnishes other cases which exemplify more fully this self-
defiling as a distinct form. " In the Congo regions prostra
tion is made, the earth is kissed, and dust is strewed over the
forehead and arms, before every Banza or village chief; "
and Burton adds that the Dahoman salutation consists of
two actions — prostration and pouring sand or earth upon
the head. Similarly " in saluting a stranger, they [the
Kakanda people on the Niger] stoop almost to the earth,
throwing dust on their foreheads several times." And
among the Balonda,
"The inferiors, on meeting their superiors in the street, at once
drop on their knees and rub dust on their arms and chest. . . . Dur
ing an oration to a person commanding respect, the speaker every
two or three seconds ' picked up a little sand, and rubbing it on the
upper part of his arms and chest.' . . . When they wish to be exces-
128 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
sively polite, they bring a quantity of ashes or pipeclay in a piece of
skin, and, taking up handfuls, rub it on the chest and upper front
part of each arm."
Moreover, we are shown how in this case, as in all other
cases, the ceremony undergoes abridgment. Of these same
Balonda, Livingstone says, " the chiefs go through the
manoeuvre of rubbing the sand on the arms, but only make
a feint of picking up some.'7 On the Lower Niger, the
people when making prostrations " cover them [their
heads] repeatedly with sand; or at all events they go
through the motion of doing so. Women, on perceiving
their friends, kneel immediately, and pretend to pour sand
alternately over each arm." In Asia this ceremony was,
and still is, performed with like meaning. As expressing
political humiliation it was adopted by the priests who, when
going to implore Floras to spare the Jews, appeared " with
dust sprinkled in great plenty upon their heads, with bosoms
deprived of any covering but what was rent." In Turkey,
abridgments of the obeisance may yet be witnessed. At a
review, even officers on horseback, saluting their superiors,
" go through the form of throwing dust over their heads; "
and when a caravan of pilgrims started, spectators " went
through the pantomime of throwing dirt over their heads."
Hebrew records prove that this sign of submission made
before visible persons, was made before invisible persons
also. Along writh those blood-lettings and markings of the
flesh and cuttings of the hair which, at funerals, were used
to propitiate the ghost, there went the putting of ashes on
the head. The like was done to propitiate the deity; as
when " Joshua rent his clothes, and fell to the earth upon
his face before the ark of the Lord until the eventide, he
and the elders of Israel, and put dust upon their heads."
Even still this usage occurs among Catholics on occasions of
special humiliation.
§ 388. We must again return to that original obeisance
which first actually is, and then which simulates, the
OBEISANCES. 129
attitude of the conquered before the conqueror, to find the
clue to certain further movements signifying submission.
As described in a foregoing paragraph, the supplicating
Khond " throws himself on his face with hands joined."
Whence this attitude of the hands ?
From the usages of the people among whom submission
and all marks of it were carried to great extremes, an in
stance has already been given indicating the genesis of
this action. A sign of humility in ancient Peru was to have
the hands bound and a rope round the neck: the condition
of captives was simulated. Did there need proof that it
has been a common practice to make prisoners of war de
fenceless by tying their hands, I might begin with Assyrian
wall-sculptures, in which men thus bound are represented;
but the fact that among ourselves, men charged with crimes
are hand-cuffed by the police when taken, shows how
naturally suggested is this method of rendering prisoners
impotent. And for concluding that bound hands hence
came to be an adopted mark of subjection, further reason
is furnished by two strange customs found in Africa and
Asia respectively. When the king of Uganda returned
the visit of captains Speke and Grant, " his brothers, a mob
of little ragamuffins, several in hand-cuffs, sat behind him.
... It was said that the king, before coming to the throne,
always went about in irons, as his small brothers now do."
And then, among the Chinese, " on the third day after the
birth of a child . . . the ceremony of binding its wrists is
observed. . . . These things are worn till the child is
fourteen days old . . . sometimes . . . for several months, or
even for a year. ... It is thought that such a tying of the
wrists will tend to keep the child from being troublesome in
after life."
Such indications of its origin, joined with such examples
of derived practices, force on us the inference that raising
the -joined hands as part of that primitive obeisance signi
fying absolute submission, was an offering of the hands to
130 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
be bound. The above-described attitude of the Khond ex
hibits the proceeding in its original form; and on reading
in Hue that " the Mongul hunter saluted us, with his
clasped hands raised to his forehead/7 or in Drury that when
the Malagasy approach a great man, they hold the hands
up in a supplicatory form, we cannot doubt that this act
now expresses reverence because it originally implied sub
jugation. Of the Siamese, La Loubere says — " If you
extend your hand to a Siamese, to place it in his, he carries
both his hands to yours, as if to place himself entirely in
your power." That presentation of the joined hands has the
meaning here suggested, is elsewhere shown. In Unyan-
yembe, " when two of them meet, the Wezee puts both his
palms together, these are gently clasped by the Watusi "
[a man of more powerful race] ; and in Sumatra, the obei
sance " consists in bending the body, and the inferior's
putting his joined hands between those of the superior, and
then lifting them to his forehead." By these instances we
are reminded that a kindred act was once a form of submis
sion in Europe. When doing homage, the vassal, on his
knees, placed his joined hands between the hands of his
suzerain.
As in foregoing cases, 'an attitude signifying defeat and
therefore political subordination, becomes an attitude of
religious devotion. By the Mahommedan worshipper we
are shown that same clasping of the hands above the head
which expresses reverence for a living superior. Among
the Greeks, " the Olympian gods were prayed to in an up
right position with raised hands; the marine gods with
hands held horizontally; the gods of Tartarus with hands
held down." And the presentation of the hands joined
palm to palm, once throughout Europe required from an
inferior when professing obedience to a superior, is still
taught to children as the attitude of prayer.
A kindred use of the hands descends into social inter
course; and in the far East the filiation continues to be
OBEISANCES. 131
clear. " "When the Siamese salute one another, they join
the hands, raising them before the face or above the
head." Of the eight obeisances in China, the least pro
found is that of putting the hands together and raising them
before the breast. Even among ourselves a remnant of
this action is traceable. An obsequious shopman or fussy
innkeeper, may be seen to join and loosely move the
slightly raised hands one over another, in a way sug
gestive of derivation from this primitive sign of sub
mission.
§ 389. A group of obeisances having a connected,
though divergent, root, come next to be dealt with. Those
which we have thus far considered do not directly affect the
subject person's dress. But from modifications of dress,
either in position, state, or kind, a series of ceremonial ob
servances result.
The conquered man, prostrate before his conqueror, and
becoming himself a possession, simultaneously loses posses
sion of whatever things he has about him; and therefore,
surrendering his weapons, he also yields up, if the victor
demands it, whatever part of his dress is worth taking.
Hence the nakedness, partial or complete, of the captive,
becomes additional evidence of his subjugation. That it
was so regarded of old in the East, there is clear proof. In
Isaiah xx. 2 — 4, we read — " And the Lord said, like as my
servant Isaiah hath walked naked and barefoot three years
for a sign ... so shall the king of Assyria lead away the
Egyptians prisoners, and the Ethiopians captives, young
and old, naked and barefoot." And that the Assyrians
completely stripped their captives is shown by their sculp
tures. Nay, even our own days furnish evidence ; as at the
beginning of the Afghan war, when the Afreedees were
reported to have stripped certain prisoners they had taken.
Naturally, then, the taking off and yielding up of cloth
ing becomes a mark of political submission, and in some
132 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
cases even a complimentary observance. In Fiji, on the
day for paying tribute —
' ' The chief of Somo Somo, who had previously stripped off his
robes, then sat down, and removed even the train or covering, which
was of immense length, from his waist. He gave it to the speaker,"
who gave him ' ' in return a piece large enough only for the purposes
of decency. The rest of the Somo-Sonio chiefs, each of whom on
coming on the ground had a train of several yards in length, stripped
themselves entirely, left their trains, and walked away . . . thus
leaving all the Somo-Somo people naked,"
Further we read that during Cook's stay at Tahiti, two men
of superior rank " came on board, and each singled out his
friend . . . this ceremony consisted in taking off great part
of their clothes and putting them upon us." And then in
another Polynesian island, Samoa, this complimentary act
is greatly abridged: only the girdle is presented.
With such facts to give us the clue, we can scarcely
doubt that surrender of clothing originates those obeisances
which are made by uncovering the body, more or less exten
sively. All degrees of uncovering have this meaning.
From Ibn Batuta's account of his journey into the Soudan,
Mr. Tylor cites the statement that " women may only come
unclothed into the presence of the Sultan of Melli, and even
the Sultan's own daughters must conform to the custom; "
and what doubt we might reasonably feel as to the existence
of an obeisance thus carried to its original extreme, is re
moved on reading in Speke that at the present time, at the
court of Uganda, " stark-naked, full-grown women are the
valets." Elsewhere in Africa an incomplete, though still
considerable, unclothing as an obeisance occurs. In
Abyssinia inferiors bare their bodies down to the girdle in
presence of superiors; " but to equals the corner of the
cloth is removed only for a time." The like occurs in Poly
nesia. The Tahitians uncover " the body as low as the
waist, in the presence of the king; " and in the Society
Isles generally, " the lower ranks of people, by way of re
spect, strip off their upper garment in the presence of their "
OBEISANCES. 133
principal chiefs. How this obeisance becomes further
abridged, and how it becomes extended to other persons
than rulers, is shown by natives of the Gold Coast.
" They also salute Europeans, and sometimes each other, by slight
ly removing their robe from their left shoulder with the light hand,
gracefully bowing at the same time. When they wish to be very re
spectful, they uncover the shoulder altogether, and support the robe
under the arm, the whole of the person from the breast upwards
being left exposed."
And Burton says that, " throughout Yoruba and the Gold
Coast, to bare the shoulders is like unhatting in England."
Evidently uncovering the head, thus suggestively com
pared with uncovering the upper part of the body, has the
same original meaning. Even in certain European usages
the relation between the two has been recognized; as by
Ford, who remarks that " uncloaking in Spain is ...
equivalent to our taking off the hat." It is recognized
in Africa itself, where, as in Dahomey, the two are joined:
" the men bared their shoulders, doffing their caps and
large umbrella hats," says Burton, speaking of his recep
tion. It is recognized in Polynesia, where, as in Tahiti,
along with the stripping down to the waist before the king,
there goes uncovering of the head. Hence it seems that
removal of the hat among European peoples, often reduced
among ourselves to touching the hat, is a remnant of that
process of unclothing himself, by which, in early times, the
captive expressed the yielding up of all he had.
That baring the feet has the same origin, is well shown
by these same Gold Coast natives; for while they partially
bare the upper part of the body, they also take off their
sandals " as a mark of respect: " they begin to strip the
body at both ends. Throughout ancient America uncov-
,ering the feet had a like meaning. In Peru, " no lord,
however great he might be, entered the presence of the
Ynca in rich clothing, but in humble attire and barefoot
ed; " and in Mexico, " the kings who were vassals of Monte-
67
134 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
zuma were obliged to take off their shoes when they came
into his presence: " the significance of this act being so
great that as " Michoacan was independent of Mexico, the
sovereign took the title of cazonzi — that is, ' shod.7 ' Kin
dred accounts of Asiatics have made the usage familiar
to us. In Burmah, " even in the streets and highways, a
European, if he meets with the king, or joins his party, is
obliged to take off his shoes." And in Persia, every one
who approaches the royal presence must bare his feet.
Verification of these interpretations is yielded by the
equally obvious interpretations of certain usages which we
similarly meet with in societies where extreme expressions
of subjection are required. I refer to the appearing in pres
ence of rulers dressed in coarse clothing — the clothing of
slaves. In Mexico, whenever Montezuma's attendants
" entered his apartments, they had first to take off their rich
costumes and put on meaner garments." In Peru, along
with the rule that a subject should appear before the Ynca
with a burden on his back, simulating servitude, and along
with the rule that he should be barefooted, further
simulating servitude, there went, as we have seen, the rule
that " no lord, however great he might be, entered the
presence of the Ynca in rich clothing, but in humble attire,"
again simulating servitude. A kindred though less ex
treme usage exists in Dahomey: the highest subjects may
" ride on horseback, be carried in hammocks, wear silk,
maintain a numerous retinue, with large umbrellas of their
own order, flags, trumpets, and other musical instruments;
but, on their entrance at the royal gate, all these insignia are
laid aside." Even in mediaeval Europe, submission was ex
pressed by taking off those parts of the dress and appendages
which were inconsistent with the appearance of servitude.
Thus, in France, in 1467, the head men of the town, surren
dering to a victorious duke, " brought to his camp with them
three hundred of the best citizens in their shirts, barehead
ed, and barelegged, who presented the keies of the citie to
OBEISANCES. 135
him, and yielded themselves to his mercy/' And the doing
of feudal homage included observances of kindred meaning.
Saint Simon, describing one of the latest instances, and
naming among ceremonies gone through the giving up of
belt, sword, gloves, and hat, says that this was done " to
strip the vassal of his marks of dignity in the presence of
his lord." So that wThether it be the putting on of coarse
clothing or the putting off of fine clothing, the meaning is
the same.
Observances of this kind, like those of other kinds, ex
tend themselves from the feared being who is visible to the
feared being who is invisible — the ghost and the god. On
remembering that by the Hebrews, putting on sackcloth
and ashes was joined with cutting the hair, self -bleeding,
and making marks on the body, to propitiate the ghost — on
reading that the habit continues in the East, so that a
mourning lady described by Mr. Salt, was covered with
sackcloth and sprinkled with ashes, and so that Burckhardt
" saw the female relations of a deceased chief running
through all the principal streets, their bodies half naked,
and the little clothing they had on being rags, while the
head, face, and breast," were " almost entirely covered with
ashes; " it becomes clear that the semi-nakedness, the torn
garments, and the coarse garments, expressing submission
to a living superior, serve also to express submission to one
who, dying and becoming a supernatural being, has so ac
quired a power that is dreaded.* This inference is con-
* For the use of coarse and dingy fabrics in mourning by Hebrews, Greek?,
and Romans, and of inferior clothing by numerous peoples, two causes, both
resulting from ghost-propitiation, appear to act separately or jointly. One is
the sacrifice of clothes, often the best, at the grave of the dead man, of which
instances were given in § 103 ; and in further exemplification of which maybe
named Mr. Willard's account of a funeral in a Californian tribe, the Sen-e"l,
among whom, by a man, a " quite new and fine " coat, and by women, " their
gaudiest dresses " were thrown on the pyre ; or the account by Young of the
Blackfeet, who, on such occasions, divested " themselves of clothing even in the
coldest weather." — (Dr. II. C. Yarrow's Introduction to the Study of Mortuary
136 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
firmed on observing that like acts become acts of religious
subordination. Isaiah, himself setting the example, ex
horts the rebellious Israelites to make their peace with Jah-
veh in the words — " Strip you, and make you bare, and gird
sackcloth upon your loins. " So, too, the fourscore men
who came from Shechem, Shiloh, and Samaria, to propitiate
Jahveh, besides cutting their hair and gashing themselves,
tore their clothes. Nor does the parallelism fail
with baring the feet. This was a sign of mourning among
the Hebrews ; as is shown by the command in Ezekiel (xxiv.
17), " Forbear to cry, make no mourning for the dead, bind
the tire of thine head upon thee, and put on thy shoes upon
thy feet." And then, among the Hebrews, putting off the
shoes was also an act of worship. Elsewhere, too, it oc
curred as in common a mark of political subordination and
of religious subordination. Of the Peruvians, who went
barefoot into the presence of the Ynca, we read that " all
took off their shoes, except the king, at two hundred paces
before reaching the doors [of the temple of the Sun] ; but
the king remained with his shoes on until he came to the
doors." Once more, the like holds with baring the
head. Used along with other ceremonial acts to propitiate
the living superior, this is used also to propitiate the spirit
Customs among the North American Indians, pp. 55 and 67.) For, if, to pro
pitiate the ghost, the best clothing is sacrificed, the implication is that inferior
or inadequate clothing remains for use. Hence comes " the chief mourner
being clad in moss " among the Santee Indians (p. 38). The more obvious and
still-continuing motive is that grief is inconsistent with wearing the best,
which is usually the gayest, clothing. Thus we read that among the Choctaws
the " widow wholly neglects her toilet," and that among the Chippewas she is
" not permitted to wear any finery " for twelve moons (Yarrow, pp. 92-3). In
a letter of a deceased relative of mine, dated 1810, I find an instructive ex
ample of the way in which natural feeling prompts this putting on of inferior
clothes. Speaking of a conversation held with a pedler concerning an eccen
tric but benevolent man, the writer describes the pedler as praising him and
saying, " he thought he should put on his worst clothes when he died." That
is, not being able to afford mourning, he proposed to revert to this primitive
method of showing sorrow.
OBEISANCES. 137
of the ordinary dead, and the spirit of the apotheosized
dead. Uncovering round the grave continues even among
ourselves; and on the Continent, there is uncovering by
those who meet a funeral procession. Taking off the hat to
images of Christ and the Madonna, out of doors and in
doors, was enjoined in old books of manners. Unhatting on
the knees when the host is carried by, occurs still in Catholic
countries. And habitually men bare their heads on enter
ing places of worship.
Nor must we omit to note that obeisances of this class,
too, made first to supreme persons and presently to less pow
erful persons, diffuse gradually until they become gen
eral. Quotations above given have shown incidentally that
in Africa partial uncovering of the shoulder is a salute be
tween equals, and that a kindred removal of the cloak in
Spain serves a like purpose. Similarly, the going barefoot
into a king's presence, and into a temple, originates an
ordinary civility. The Damaras take off their sandals be
fore entering a stranger's house; a Japanese leaves his
shoes at the door, even when he enters a shop; " upon en
tering a Turkish house, it is the invariable rule to leave
the outer slipper or galosh at the foot of the stairs." And
then in Europe, from having been a ceremony of feudal
homage and of religious worship, uncovering the head has
become an expression of respect due even to a labourer on
entering his cottage.
§ 390. These last facts suggest a needful addition to the
argument. Something more must be said respecting the
way in which all kinds of obeisances between equals, have
resulted by diffusion from obeisances which originally ex
pressed surrender to a conqueror.
Proof has been given that rhythmical muscular move
ments, naturally signifying joy, such as jumping, clapping
the hands, and even drumming the ribs with the elbows,
become simulated signs of joy used to propitiate a king.
138 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
These simulated signs of joy become civilities where there
is no difference of rank. According to Grant, " when a
birth took place in the Toorkee camp . . . women assem
bled to rejoice at the door of the mother, by clapping their
hands, dancing, and shouting. Their dance consisted in
jumping in the air, throwing out their legs in the most un
couth manner, and flapping their sides with their elbows."
Where circumstances permit, such emphatic marks of con
sideration become mutual. On the Slave Coast, " when two
persons of equal condition meet each other, they fall both
down on their knees together, clap hands, and mutually sa
lute, by wishing each other a good day." In China, during
a wedding visit " each visitor prostrated himself at the feet
of the bride, and knocked his head upon the ground, saying
at the same time, ( I congratulate you ! I congratulate you ! 7
whilst the bride, also upon her knees, and knocking her
head upon the ground, replied, ' I thank you! I thank
you! ? And among the Mosquitos, says Bancroft, " one
will throw himself at the feet of another, who helps him up,
embraces him, and falls down in his turn to be assisted up
and comforted with a pressure." Such extreme instances
yield verifications of the inference that the mutual bows,
and curtseys, and unhattings, among ourselves, are rem
nants of the original prostrations and strippings of the
captive.
But I give these instances chiefly as introducing the
interpretation of a still more familiar observance. Already
I have named the fact that between polite Arabs the offer
of an inferior to kiss a superior's hand, is resisted by the
superior if he is condescending, and that the conflict ends
by the inferior kissing his own hand to the superior.
Further evidence is given by Malcolm, who says:—
" Everyone [Arab] who met a friend took his right hand,
and, after shaking it, raised it as high as his breast." And
the following, from ISTiebuhr, is an account of an allied
usage :—
OBEISANCES. 139
"Two Arabs of the desert meeting, shake hands more than ten
times. Each kisses his own hand, and still repeats the question,
' How art thou ? ' . . .In Yemen, each does as if he wished the
other's hand, and draws back his own to avoid receiving the same
honour. At length, to end the contest, the eldest of the two suffers
the other to kiss his fingers."
Have we not here, then, the origin of shaking hands? If
of two persons each wishes to make an obeisance to the other
by kissing his hand, and each out of compliment refuses to
have his own hand kissed, what will happen? Just as when
leaving a room, each of two persons, proposing to give the
other precedence, will refuse to go first, and there will re
sult at the doorway some conflict of movements, "preventing
either from advancing; so, if each of two tries to kiss the
other's hand, and refuses to have his own kissed, there will
result a raising of the hand of each by the other towards
his own lips, and by the other a drawing of it down again,
and so on alternately. Though at first such an action will
be irregular, yet as fast as the usage spreads, and the failure
of either to kiss the other's hand becomes a recognized issue,
the motions may be expected to grow regular and rhyth
mical. Clearly the difference between the simple squeeze,
to which this salute is now often abridged, and the old-fash
ioned hearty shake, exceeds the difference between the
hearty shake and the movement that would result from the
effort of each to kiss the hand of the other.
Even in the absence of this clue yielded by the Arab
custom, we should be obliged to infer some such genesis.
After all that has been shown, no one can suppose that hand
shaking was ever deliberately fixed upon as a complimentary
observance; and if it had a natural origin in some act
which, like the rest, expressed subjection, the act of kissing
the hand must be assumed, as alone capable of leading to it.
§ 391. Whatever its kind, then, the obeisance has the
same root with the trophy and the mutilation. At the mercy
of his conqueror, who, cutting off part of his body as a me-
140 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
morial of victory, kills him, or else, taking some less im
portant part, marks him as a subject person, the conquered
enemy lies prone before him; now on his back, or now
with neck under his conqueror's foot, smeared with dirt,
weaponless, and with torn clothes or stripped of the trophy-
trimmed robe he prized. Thus the prostration, the coating
of dust, and the loss of covering, incidental on defeat, be
come, like the mutilation, recognized proofs of it. Whence
result, first of all, the enforced signs of submission of ^laves
to masters and subjects to rulers; then the voluntary as
sumptions of humble attitudes before superiors; and, final
ly, those complimentary movements expressive of inferior
ity, made by each to the other between equals.
That all obeisances originate in militancy, is a conclu
sion harmonizing with the fact that they develop along with
development of the militant type of society. Attitudes and
motions signifying subjection, do not characterize headless
tribes and tribes having unsettled chieftainships, like the
Fuegians, the Andamanese, the Australians, the Tasma-
nians, the Esquimaux ; and accounts of etiquette among the
wandering and almost unorganized communities of ^orth
America, make little, if any, mention of actions expressing
subordination. It is remarked of the Kamtschadales, who
when found were without rulers, that " their manners are
quite rude: they never use any civil expression or salu
tation; never take off their caps, nor bow to one another."
On the other hand, in societies compounded and consoli
dated by militancy which have acquired the militant type of
structure, political and social life are characterized by grov
elling prostrations. We find them in warlike, cannibal Fiji,
where the power of rulers over subjects is unlimited; we
find them in Uganda, where war is chronic, where the rev
enue is derived from plunder, and where it is said of the king
out shooting that, " as his highness could not get any game
to shoot at, he shot down many people; " we find them in
sanguinary Dahomey, where adjacent societies are attacked
OBEISANCES. 14-1
to get more heads for decorating the king's palace. Among
states more advanced they occur in Burmah and Siam,
where the militant type, bequeathed from the past, has left
a monarchial power without restraint; in Japan, where
there has been a despotism evolved and fixed during the wars
of early times ; and in China, where a kindred form of gov
ernment, similarly originated, survives. The like happens
with kissing the feet as an obeisance. This was the usage in
ancient Peru, where the entire nation was under a regi
mental organization and discipline. It prevails in Mada
gascar, where the militant structure and activity are de
cided. And among sundry Eastern peoples, living still, as
they have ever done, under autocratic rule, this obeisance
exists at present as it existed in the remote past, ^or is it
otherwise with complete or partial removals of the dress.
The extreme forms of this we saw occur in Fiji and in
Uganda; while the less extreme form of baring the body
down to the waist was exemplified from Abyssinia and Ta
hiti, where the kingly power, though great, is less recklessly
exercised. So, too, with baring the feet. This was an obei
sance to the king in ancient Peru and ancient Mexico, as it
is now in Burmah and in Persia — all of them having the
despotic government evolved by militancy. And the like
relation holds with the other servile obeisances — the putting-
dust on the head, the assumption of mean clothing, the tak
ing up a burden to carry, the binding of the hands.
The same truth is shown us on comparing the usages of
European peoples in early ages, when war was the business
of life, with the usages which obtain now that war has
ceased to be the business of life. In feudal days homage
was shown by kissing the feet, by going on the knees, by
joining the hands, by laying aside sundry parts of the
dress; but in our days the more humble of these obeisances
have, some quite and others almost, disappeared: leaving
only the bow, the curtsey, and the raising of the hat, as
their representatives. Moreover, it is observable that be-
142 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
tween the more militant nations of Europe and the less mili
tant, kindred differences are traceable. On the Continent
obeisances are fuller, and more studiously attended to, than
they are here. Even from within our own society evidence
is forthcoming ; for by the upper classes, forming that regu
lative part of the social structure which here, as everywhere,
has been developed by militancy, there is not only at Court,
but in private intercourse, greater attention paid to these
forms than by the classes forming the industrial structures.
And I may add the significant fact that, in the distinctively
militant parts of our society — the army and navy — not only
is there a more strict performance of prescribed obeisances
than in any other of its parts, but, further, that in one of
them, specially characterized by the absolutism of its chief
officers, there survives a usage analogous to usages in barbar
ous societies. In Burmah, it is requisite to make " prostra
tions in advancing to the palace; " the Dahomans prostrate
themselves in front of the palace gate; in Fiji, stooping is
enjoined as " a mark of respect to a chief or his premises,
or a chief's settlement; " and on going on board a British
man-of-war, it is the custom to take off the hat to the quar
ter-deck.
]^or are we without kindred contrasts among the obei
sances made to the supernatural being, whether spirit or
deity. The wearing sackcloth to propitiate the ghost, as
now in China and as of old among the Hebrews, the partial
baring of the body and putting dust on the head, still
occurring in the East as funeral rites, are not found in ad
vanced societies having types of structure more profoundly
modified by industrialism. Among ourselves, most charac
terized by the extent of this change, obeisances to the dead
have wholly disappeared, save in the uncovering at the
grave. Similarly with the obeisances used in wor
ship. The baring of the feet when approaching a temple,
as in ancient Peru, and the removal of the shoes on enter
ing it, as in the East, are acts finding no parallels here on
OBEISANCES. 143
any occasion, or on the Continent, save on occasion of pen
ance. Neither the prostrations and repeated knockings
of the head upon the ground by the Chinese worshipper,
nor the kindred attitude of the Mahommedan at prayers,
occurs where freer forms of social institutions, proper to
the industrial type, have much qualified the militant type.
Even going on the knees as a form of religious homage,
has, among ourselves, fallen greatly into disuse; and the
most unmilitant of our sects, the Quakers, make no relig
ious obeisances whatever.
The connexions thus traced, parallel to connexions al
ready traced, are at once seen to be natural on remembering
that militant activities, intrinsically coercive, necessitate
command and obedience; and that therefore where they
predominate, signs of submission are insisted upon. Con
versely, industrial activities, whether exemplified in the re
lations of employer and employed or of buyer and seller,
being carried on under agreement, are intrinsically non-
coercive ; and therefore, where they predominate, only ful
filment of contract is insisted upon: whence results decreas
ing use of the signs of submission.
CHAPTEE VII.
FOKMS OF ADDRESS.
§ 392. What an obeisance implies by acts, a form of
address says in words. If the two have a common root
this is to be anticipated; and that they have a common root
is demonstrable. Instances occur in which the one is rec
ognized as equivalent to the other. Speaking of Poles and
Sclavonic Silesians, Captain Spencer remarks —
"Perhaps no distinctive trait of manners more characterizes both
than their humiliating mode of acknowledging a kindness, their ex
pression of gratitude being the servile " Upadam do nog" (I fall at
your feet), which is no figure of speech, for they will literally throw
themselves down and kiss your feet for the trifling donation of a few
halfpence."
Here, then, the attitude of the conquered man beneath the
conqueror is either actually assumed or verbally assumed;
and when used, the oral representation is a substitute for
the realization in act. Other cases show us words and deeds
similarly associated; as when a Turkish courtier, accus
tomed to make humble obeisances, addresses the Sultan—
" Centre of the Universe! Your's slave's head is at
your feet; " or as when a Siamese, whose servile pros
trations occur daily, says to his superior — " Lord Bene
factor, at whose feet I am;" to a prince — "I, the sole
of your foot; " to the king — " I, a dust-grain of your sacred
feet." Early European manners furnish kindred
evidence. In Kussia down to the seventeenth century, a
144
FORMS OF ADDRESS. 145
petition began with the words — " So and so strikes his fore
head " [on the ground] ; and petitioners were called " fore
head strikers." At the Court of France as late as 1577, it
was the custom of some to say — " I kiss your grace's hands/'
and of others to say — " I kiss your lordship's feet." Even
now of Spain, where orientalisms linger, we read — " When
you get up to take leave, if of a lady, you should say, ' My
lady, I place myself at your feet; ' to which she will reply,
' I kiss your hand, sir.' '
From what has gone before, such origins and such char
acters of forms of address might be anticipated. Along
with other ways of propitiating the victor, the master, the
ruler, will naturally come speeches which, beginning with
confessions of defeat by verbal assumptions of its attitude,
will develop into varied phrases acknowledging servitude.
The implication, therefore, is that forms of address in gen
eral, descending as they do from these originals, will ex
press, clearly or vaguely, ownership by, or subjection to,
the person addressed.
§ 393. Of propitiatory speeches there are some which,
instead of describing the prostration entailed by defeat,
describe the resulting state of being at the mercy of the
person addressed. One of the strangest of these occurs
among the cannibal Tupis. While, on the one hand, a
warrior shouts to his enemy — " May every misfortune come
upon thee, my meat! " on the other hand, the speech re
quired from the captive Hans Stade on approaching a dwell
ing, was — " I, your food, have come: " that is — my life is
at your disposal. Then, again, instead of profess
ing to live only by permission of the superior, actual or pre
tended, who is spoken to, we find the speaker professing to
be personally a chattel of his, or to be holding property at
his disposal, or both. Africa, Asia, Polynesia, and Europe,
furnish examples. " When a stranger enters the house of a
Serracolet (Inland Negro), he goes out and says — ' White
146 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
man, my house, my wife, my children belong to thee.' '
Around Delhi, if you ask an inferior " ' Whose horse is
that? ' he says ' Slave's,' meaning his own; or he may say
-' It is your highnesses',' meaning that, being his, it is at
your disposal." In the Sandwich Islands a chief, asked re
specting the ownership of a house or canoe possessed by him,
replies — " It is yours and mine." In France, in the fif
teenth century, a complimentary speech made by an abbe on
his knees to the queen when visiting a monastery was —
" We resign and offer up the abbey with all that is in it, our
bodies, as our goods." And at the present time in Spain,
where politeness requires that anything admired by a visitor
shall be offered to him, " the correct place of dating [a let
ter] from should be ... from this your house, wherever
it is ; you must not say from this my house, as you mean to
place it at the disposition of your correspondent."
But these modes of addressing a real or fictitious supe
rior, indirectly asserting subjection to him in body and
effects, are secondary in importance to the direct assertions
of slavery and servitude; which, beginning in barbarous
days, have persisted down to the present time.
§ 394. Hebrew narratives have familiarized us with the
word " servant," as applied to himself by a subject or in
ferior, when speaking to a ruler or superior. In our days
of freedom, the associations established by daily habit have
obscured the fact that " servant " as used in translations of
old records, means " slave " —implies the condition fallen
into by a captive taken in war. Consequently when, as
often in the Bible, the phrases " thy servant " or " thy
servants " are uttered before a king, they must be taken to
signify that same state of subjugation which is more cir-
cuitously signified by the phrases quoted in the last sec
tion. Clearly this self -abasing word was employed, not by
attendants only, but by conquered peoples, and by sub
jects at large; as we see when the unknown David, ad-
FORMS OF ADDRESS. 147
dressing Saul, describes both himself and his father as Saul's
servants. And kindred uses of the word to rulers have con
tinued down to modern times.
Very early, however, professions of servitude, originally
made only to one of supreme authority, came to be made to
those of subordinate authority. Brought before Joseph in
Egypt, and fearing him, his brethren call themselves his
servants or slaves; and not only so, but speak of their
father as standing in a like relation to him. Moreover,
there is evidence that this form of address extended to the
intercourse between equals where a favour was to be
gained; as witness Judges xix. 19. And we have seen in
the last section that even still in India, a man shows his
politeness by calling himself the slave of the person ad
dressed. How in Europe a like diffusion has taken place,
need not be shown further than by exemplifying some of
the stages. Among French courtiers in the sixteenth cen
tury it was common to say — " I am your servant and the
perpetual slave of your house; " and among ourselves in
past times there were used such indirect expressions of
servitude as — " Yours to command," " Ever at your wor
ship's disposing," " In all serviceable humbleness," &c.
While in our days, rarely made orally save in irony, such
forms have left only their written representatives — " Your
obedient servant," " Your humble servant; " reserved for
occasions when distance is to be maintained, and for this
reason often having inverted meanings.
That for religious purposes the same propitiatory words
are employed, is a familiar truth. In Hebrew history men
are described as servants of God, just as they are described
as servants of the king. Neighbouring peoples arc said
to serve their respective deities just as slaves are said to
serve their masters. And there are cases in which these
relations to the visible ruler and to the invisible ruler, are
expressed in like ways; as where we read that " The king
hath fulfilled the request of his servant," and elsewhere
148 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
that " The Lord hath redeemed his servant Jacob." Hence
as used in worship, the expression " thy servant " has orig
inated as have all other elements of religious ceremonial.
And here better than elsewhere, may be noted the fact
that the phrase " thy son/7 used to a ruler or superior, or
other person, is originally equivalent to " thy servant.'7
On remembering that in rude societies children exist only
on sufferance of their parents; and that in patriarchal
groups the father had life and death power over his chil
dren; we see that professing to be another's son was like
professing to be his servant or slave. There are ancient
examples demonstrating the equivalence; as when " Ahaz
sent messengers to Tigiath-pileser king of Assyria, saying,
I am thy servant and thy son: come up and save me."
Mediaeval Europe furnished instances when, as we saw,
rulers offered themselves for adoption by more powerful
rulers: so assuming the condition of filial servitude and
calling themselves sons; as did Theodebert I. and Childe-
bert II. to the emperors Justinian and Maurice. !Nor does
there lack evidence that this expression of subordination
spreads like the rest, until it becomes a complimentary form
of speech. At the present time in India, the man who in
compliment professes to be your slave, will, on introducing
his son say, — " This is your highness's son." And a a
Samoan cannot use more persuasive language than to call
himself the son of the person addressed."
§ 395. From those complimentary phrases which ex
press abasement of self, we pass to those which exalt an
other. Either kind taken alone, is a confession of relative
inferiority; and this confession gains in emphasis when the
two kinds are joined, as they commonly are.
At first it does not seem likely that eulogies may, like
other propitiations, be traced back to the behaviour of the
conquered to the conqueror; but we have proof that they
do thus originate, certainly in some cases. To the victorious
FORMS OF ADDRESS.
Ramses II. his defeated foes preface their prayers for mercy
by the laudatory words — " Prince guarding the army,
valiant with the sword, bulwark of his troops in day of bat
tle, king mighty of strength, great Sovran, Sun powerful
in truth, approved of Ha, mighty in victories, Ramses Mia-
mon." Obviously there is no separation between such
praises uttered by the vanquished, and those afterwards
coming from them as a subject people. We pass without
break to glorifying words like those addressed to the king
of Siam — " Mighty and august lord! Divine Mercy!"
" The Divine Order! " " The Master of Life! " " Sover
eign of the Earth! " or those addressed to the Sultan—
" The Shadow of God! " " Glory of the Universe! " or those
addressed to the Chinese Emperor — " Son of Heaven! "
" The Lord of Ten Thousand Years! " or those some years
since addressed by the Bulgarians to the emperor of Russia
— " O blessed Czar! " " Blissful Czar! " " Orthodox pow
erful Czar! " or those with which, in the past, speeches to
the French monarch commenced — " O very benign! O
very great! O very merciful! " And then along with these
propitiations by direct flattery, there go others in which the
flattery is indirectly conveyed by affected admiration of
whatever the ruler says; as when the courtiers of the king
of Delhi held up their hands crying — " Wonder, wonder! "
after any ordinary speech; or in broad day, if he said it
was night, responded — " Behold the moon and the stars! "
or as when Russians in past times exclaimed — " God and
the prince have willed! " " God and the prince know! "
Eulogistic phrases first used to supreme men, descend to
men of less authority, and so downwards. Examples may
be taken from those current in France during the sixteenth
century — to a cardinal, " the very illustrious and very
reverend; " to a marquis, " my very illustrious and much-
honoured lord; " to a doctor, " the virtuous and excellent."
And from our own past days may be added such compli
mentary forms of address as — " the right worshipful," to
68
150 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
knights and sometimes to esquires; " the right noble/'
"the honourable-minded/7 used to gentlemen; and even
to men addressed as Mr., such laudatory prefixes as " the
worthy and worshipful." Along with flattering epithets
there spread more involved flatteries, especially observable
in the East, where both are extreme. On a Chinese in
vitation-card the usual compliment is — " To what an ele
vation of splendour will your presence assist us to rise! "
Tavernier, from whom I have quoted the above example
of scarcely credible flattery from the Court of Delhi, adds,
" this vice passeth even unto the people; " and he says that
Lis military attendant, compared to the greatest of con
querors, was described as making the world tremble when
he mounted his horse. In these parts of India at the pres
ent day, an ordinary official is addressed — " My lord, there
are only two who can do anything for me : God is the first,
and you are the second; " or sometimes, as a correspondent
writes to me — " ( Above is God, and your honour is below; '
i Your honour has power to do anything; ' ' You are our
king and lord; ' ' You are in God's place.' '
On reading that in Tavernier's time a usual expression
in Persia was — " Let the king's will be clone," recalling the
parallel expression — " Let God's will be done," we are
reminded that various of the glorifying speeches made to
kings parallel those made to deities. Where the militant
type is highly developed, and where divinity is ascribed to
the monarch, not only after death but before, as of old in
Egypt and Peru, and as now in Japan, China, and Siam, it
naturally results that the eulogies of visible rulers and of
rulers who have become invisible, are the same. Having
reached the extreme of hyperbole to the king Avhen living,
they cannot go further to the king when dead and deified.
And the identity thus initiated continues through subse
quent stages with deities whose origins are no longer trace
able.
FORMS OF ADDRESS. 151
§ 396. Into the complete obeisance we saw that there
enter two elements, one implying submission and the other
implying love; and into the complete form of address two
analogous elements enter. With words employed to pro
pitiate by abasing self or elevating the person addressed, or
both, are joined words suggestive of attachment to him —
wishes for his life, health, and happiness.
Professions of interest in another's well-being and good
fortune are, indeed, of earlier origin than professions of
subjection. Just as those huggings and kissings which
indicate liking are used as complimentary observances by
ungoverned, or little-governed, savages, who have no obei
sances; so, friendly speeches precede speeches expressing
subordination. By the Snake Indians, a stranger is accosted
with the words — " I am much pleased, I am much re
joiced; " and among the Araucanians, whose social organ
ization, though more advanced, has not yet been developed
by militancy into the coercive type, the formality on meet
ing, which " occupies ten or fifteen minutes," consists of
detailed inquiries about the welfare of each and his belong
ings, with elaborate felicitations and condolences.
Of course this element of the salutation persists while
there grow up the acts and phrases expressing subjection.
We saw that along with servile obeisances, good wishes and
congratulations are addressed to a superior among IsTegro
nations; and among the Fulahs and the Abyssinians they
are elaborate. It is in Asia, however, that the highest
developments of them occur. Beginning with such hyper
bolic speeches as — " O king, live for ever! " we descend to
speeches between equals which, in like exaggerated ways,
signify great sympathy ; as among the Arabs, who indicate
their anxiety by rapidly repeating — " Thank God, how are
you? " for some minutes, and who, when well-bred, occa
sionally interrupt the subsequent conversation by again
asking — " How are you? " or as among the Chinese, who
on an ordinary visiting billet write — " The tender and
152 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
sincere friend of your lordship, and the perpetual disciple
of jour doctrine, presents himself to pay his duty and make
his reverence even to the earth." In Western societies,
less despotically governed, professions of liking and soli
citude have been less exaggerated ; and they have decreased
as freedom has increased. In ancient France, at the royal
table, " every time the herald cried — ' The king drinks! '
every one made voeux and cried — ' Long live the king! '
And though both abroad and at home the same or an allied
speech is still used, it recurs with nothing like the same fre
quency. So, too, is it with the good wishes expressed in
social intercourse. The exclamation — " Long life to your
honour! " may, indeed, still be heard; but it is heard
among a people who, till late times under personal rule, are
even now greatly controlled by their loyalty to representa
tives of old families. And in parts of the kingdom longer
emancipated from feudalism and disciplined by industrial
ism, the ordinary expressions of interest, abridged to " How
do you do? " and " Good-bye," are uttered in a manner
implying not much more interest than is felt.
Along with phrases in which divine aid is invoked on
behalf of the person saluted, as in the " May God grant you
his favours " of the Arab, " God keep you well " of the
Hungarian, " God protect you " of the Negro; and along
with those which express sympathy by inquiries after health
and fortune, which are also widespread; there are some
which take their characters from surrounding conditions.
One is the oriental " Peace be with you," descending from
turbulent times when peace was the great desideratum ;
another is the "How do you perspire?" alleged of the
Egyptians; and a still more curious one is " How have the
mosquitoes used you? " which, according to Humboldt, is
the morning salute on the Orinoco.
§ 397. There remain to be noted those modifications of
language, grammatical and other, which, by implication,
FORMS OF ADDRESS. 153
exalt tlie person addressed or abase the person addressing.
These have certain analogies with other elements of cere
mony. We have seen that where subjection is extreme,
the ruler, if he does not keep himself invisible, must, when
present, not be looked at; and from the idea that it is an
unpardonable liberty to gaze at the supreme person, there
has arisen in some countries the usage of turning the back
on a superior. Similarly, the practice of kissing the ground
before one who is reverenced, or kissing some object be
longing to him, implies that the subject is so remote in sta
tion, that he may not take the liberty of kissing even the
foot or the dress. And in a kindred spirit, the linguistic
forms used in compliment have the trait that they avoid
direct relations with the individual addressed.
Such forms make their appearance in comparatively
early social stages. Of the superior people among the Abi-
pones, we read that " the names of men belonging to this
class end in my those of the women, who also partake of
these honours, in en. These syllables you must add even to
substantives and verbs in talking with them." Again, " the
Samoan language contains ( a distinct and permanent vo
cabulary of words which politeness requires to be made use
of to superiors, or on occasions of ceremony.' ' By the
Javans, " on no account is any one, of whatever rank, al
lowed to address his superior in the common or vernacular
language of the country." And of the ancient Mexican
language Gallantin says, there is " a special form, called
Reverential, which pervades the whole language, and is
found in no other . . . this is believed to be the only one
[language] in which every word uttered by the inferior
reminds him of his social position."
The most general of the indirectnesses which etiquette
introduces into forms of address, apparently arise from
the primitive superstition about proper names. Conceiving
that a man's name is part of his individuality, and that pos
session of his name gives power over him, savages almost
154: CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
everywhere are reluctant to disclose names. Whether this
is the sole cause, or whether, apart from this, utterance of
a man's name is felt to be a liberty taken with him, the fact
is that among rude peoples names acquire a kind of sacred-
ness, and taking a name in vain is interdicted: especially
to inferiors when speaking to superiors. Hence a curious
incidental result. As in early stages personal names are
derived from objects, the names of objects have to be dis
used and replaced by others. Among the Kaffirs " a wife
may not publicly pronounce the i-gama [the name given
at birth] of her husband or any of his brothers; nor may
she use the interdicted word in its ordinary sense. . . .
The chief's i-yama is withdrawn from the language of his
people." Again, " the hereditary appellation of the chief
of Pango-Pango [in Samoa] being now Maunga, or Moun
tain, that word must never be used for a hill in his pres
ence, but a courtly term . . . substituted." And then
where there exist proper names of a developed kind, there
are still kindred restrictions on the general use of them;
as in Siam, where " the name of the king must not be
uttered by a subject: he is always referred to by a peri
phrasis, such as i the master of life,' i the lord of the land,'
{ the supreme head; ' " and as in China, where " the ' old
man of the house,' e excellent honourable one,' and ' ven
erable great prince,' are terms used by a visitor to desig
nate the father of his host."
Similarly, there is avoidance of personal pronouns;
which also establish with the individual addressed a rela
tion too immediate to be allowed where distance is to be
maintained. In Siam, when asking the king's commands,
the pronominal form is, as much as possible, evaded; and
that this usage is general among the Siamese is implied by
the remark of Pere Bruguiere, that " they have personal
pronouns, but rarely use them." In China, also, this style
descends into ordinary intercourse. " If they are not inti
mate friends, they never say I and You, which would be a
FORMS OF ADDRESS. 155
gross incivility. But instead of saying, I am very sensible
of the service you have done me, they will say, The service
that the Lord or the Doctor has done for his meanest Ser
vant, or his Scholar, has greatly affected me."
We come next to those perversions in the uses of pro
nouns which raise the superior and lower the inferior.
" ' I ' and ' me ' are expressed by several terms in Siamese;
as (1) between a master and slave; (2) between a slave and
master; (3) between a commoner and a nobleman; (4)
between persons of equal rank; while there is, lastly, a
form of address which is only used by the priests." Still
more developed has this system been by the Japanese.
" In Japan all classes have an ' I ' peculiar to themselves,
which no other class may use; and there is one exclusively
appropriated by the Mikado . . . and one confined to
women. . . . There are eight pronouns of the second per
son peculiar to servants, pupils, and children." Though
throughout the West, the distinctions established by abus
ing pronominal forms have been less elaborated, yet they
have been well marked. By Germans " in old times . . .
all inferiors were spoken to in the third person singular, as
( er ? : " that is, an oblique form by which the inferior was
referred to as though not present, served to disconnect him
from the speaker. And then, conversely, " inferiors invari
ably use the third person plural in addressing their supe
riors: " a mode which, while dignifying the superior by
pluralization, increases the distance of the inferior by its
relative indirectness; and a mode which, beginning as a
propitiation of those in power, has, like the rest, spread
till it has become a general propitiation. In our own
speech, lacking such misuse of pronouns as humiliates,
there exists only that substitution of the " you " for the
" thou," which, once a complimentary exaltation, has now
by diffusion wholly lost its ceremonial meaning. That it
retained some ceremonial meaning at the time when the
Quakers persisted in using " thou " is clear; and that in
156 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
still earlier times it was employed to ascribe dignity, is in
ferable from the fact that during the Merovingian period
in France, the kings ordered that they should be addressed
in the plural. Whoever fails to think that calling him
" yon/7 once served to exalt the person addressed, will be
aided by contemplating this perversion of speech in its
primitive and more emphatic shape; as in Samoa, where
they say to a chief — " Have you two come? " or " Are you
two going? "
§ 398. Since they state in words what obeisances ex
press by acts, forms of address of course have the same gen
eral relations to social types. The parallelisms must be
noted.
Speaking of the Dacotahs, who are politically unorgan
ized, and who had not even nominal chiefs till the whites be
gan to make distinctions among them, Burton says — " Cere
mony and manners in our sense of the word they have
none; " and he instances the entrance of a Dacotah into a
stranger's house with a mere exclamation meaning " Well."
Bailey remarks of the Veddahs that in addressing others,
" they use none of the honorifics so profusely common in
Singhalese ; the pronoun i to, ' thou/ being alone used,
whether they are addressing each other or those whose posi
tion would entitle them to outward respect." These cases
will sufficiently indicate the general fact that where there is
no subordination, speeches which elevate the person spoken
to and abase the person speaking, do not arise. Con
versely, where personal government is absolute, verbal
self-humiliations and verbal exaltations of others assume
exaggerated forms. Among the Siamese, who are all slaves
of the king, an inferior calls himself dust under the feet
of a superior, while ascribing to the superior transcendent
powers; and the forms of address, even between equals,
avoid naming the person addressed. In China, where there
is no check on the power of the " Imperial Supreme," the
FORMS OF ADDRESS. 157
phrases of adulation and humility, first used in intercourse
with rulers and afterwards spreading, have elaborated to
such extremes that in inquiring another's name the form is
— " May I presume to ask what is your noble surname and
your eminent name; " while the reply is — " The name of
my cold (or poor) family is - — , and my ignoble name
is — — ." If we ask where ceremony has initiated the most
elaborate misuses of pronouns, we find them in Japan,
where wars long ago established a despotism which acquired
divine prestige.
Similarly, on contrasting the Europe of past times, char
acterized by social structures developed by, and fitted for,
perpetual fighting, with modern Europe, in which, though
fighting on a large scale occurs, it is the temporary rather
than the permanent form of social activity, we observe that
complimentary expressions, now less used, are also now
less exaggerated. Xor does the generalization fail when
we compare the modern European societies that are organ
ized in high degrees for war, like those of the Continent,
with our own society, not so well organized for war; or
when we compare the regulative parts of our own society,
which are developed by militancy, with the industrial
parts. Elattering superlatives and expressions of devotion
are less profuse here than abroad; and much as the use
of complimentary language has diminished among our rul
ing classes in recent times, there remains a greater use of it
among them than among the industrial classes: especially
those of the industrial classes who have no direct relations
with the ruling classes.
These connexions are obviously, like previous ones,
necessary. Should any one say that along with the en
forced obedience which military organization implies, and
which characterizes the whole of a society framed for mili
tary action, there naturally go forms of address not express
ing submission; and if, conversely, he should say that along
with the active exchanging of goods for money, and services
158 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
for wages, freely carried on, which characterizes the life of
an industrial society, there naturally go exaggerated eulo
gies of others and servile depreciations of self; his proposi
tion would manifestly be absurd. And the absurdity of
this hypothetical proposition serves to bring into view the
truth of the actual proposition opposed to it.
CHAPTEE VIII.
TITLES.
§ 399. Adhering tenaciously to all his elders taught
him, the primitive man deviates into novelty only through
unintended modifications. Everyone now knows that lan
guages are not devised but evolve; and the same is true
of usages. To many proofs of this, the foregoing chapters
have added further proofs.
The like holds of titles. Looked at as now existing,
these appear artificial: there is suggested the idea that
once upon a time they wrere consciously settled. But this
is no more true than it is true that our common words were
once consciously settled. Names of objects and qualities
and acts, were at the outset directly or indirectly descrip
tive; and the names we class as titles were so too. Just as
the deaf-mute who calls to mind a person he means by mim
icking a peculiarity, has no idea of introducing a symbol ; so
neither has the savage wrhen he indicates a place as the one
where the kangaroo was killed or the one where the cliff
fell down ; so neither has he when he suggests an individual
by referring to some marked trait in his appearance or fact
in his life ; and so neither has he when he gives those names,
literally descriptive or metaphorically descriptive, which
now and again develop into titles.
The very conception of a proper name grew up una
wares. Among the uncivilized a child becomes known as
" Thunderstorm," or " New Moon," or " Father-come-
159
160 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
home," simply from the habit of referring to an event which
occurred 011 its birthday, as a way of raising the thought of
the particular child meant. And if afterwards it gets such
a name as " Squash-head/' or " Dirty-saddle " (Dacotah
names), " The Great Archer," or " He who runs up the
Hill " (Blackfoot names), this results from spontaneously
using an alternative, and sometimes better, means of identi
fication. Evidently the like has happened with such less
needful names as titles. These have differentiated from
ordinary proper names, by being descriptive of some trait,
or some deed, or some function, held in honour.
§ 400. Various savage races give a man a name of re
nown in addition to, or in place of, the name by which he
was previously known, on the occasion of a great achieve
ment in battle. The Tupis furnish a good illustration.
" The founder of the [cannibal] feast took an additional
name as an honourable remembrance of -what had been
done, and his female relations ran through the house shout
ing the new title." And of these same people Hans Stade
says, — " So many enemies as one of them slays, so many
names does he give himself; and those are the noblest
among them who have many such names." In North
America, too, when a young Creek Indian brings his first
scalp, he is dubbed a man and a warrior, and receives a
" war-name." Among the people of ancient Nicaragua,
this practice had established a general title for such: they
called one who had killed another in battle ta/palique; and
cobra was an equivalent title given by the Indians of the
Isthmus.
That descriptive names of honour, thus arising during
early militancy, become in some cases official names, we see
on comparing evidence furnished by two sanguinary and
cannibal societies in different stages of advance. In Fiji,
" warriors of rank receive proud titles, such as ' the divider
of ' a district, ' the waster of ' a coast, ' the depopulator of 7
TITLES. 161
an island — the name of the place in question being affixed."
And then in ancient Mexico, the names of offices filled by
the king's brothers or nearest relatives were, one of them,
" Cutter of men," and another, " Shedder of blood."
Where, as among the Fijians, the conceived distinction
between men and gods is vague, and the formation of new
gods by apotheosis of chiefs continues, we find the gods
bearing names like those given during their lives to fero
cious warriors. " The Woman-stealer," " the Brain-eater,"
" the Murderer," " Fresh-fr cm-slaughter/' are naturally
such divine titles as arise from descriptive naming among
ancestor-worshipping cannibals. That sundry titles of the
gods worshipped by superior races have originated in a kin
dred manner, is implied by the ascription of conquests to
them. Be they the Egyptian deities, the Babylonian dei
ties, or the deities of the Greeks, their power is represented
as having been gained by battle ; and with accounts of their
achievements are in some cases joined congruous descrip
tive names, such as that of Mars — " the Blood-stainer," and
that of the Hebrew god — " the Violent One; " which, ac
cording to Keunen, is the literal interpretation of Shaddai.
§ 401. Very generally among primitive men, instead of
the literally-descriptive name of honour, there is given the
metaphorically-descriptive name of honour. Of the Tupis,
whose ceremony of taking wTar-names is instanced above,
we read that " they selected their appellations from visible
objects, pride or ferocity influencing their choice." That
such names, first spontaneously given by applauding com
panions and afterwards accorded in some deliberate way,
are apt to be acquired by men of the greatest prowess, and
so to become names of rulers, is suggested by what Ximenez
tells us respecting the semi-civilized peoples of Guatemala.
Their king's names enumerated by him are — " Laughing
Tiger," " Tiger of the Wood,"' " Oppressing Eagle,"
" Eagle's Head," " Strong Snake." Throughout Africa
162 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
the like has happened. The king of Ashantee has among
his glorifying names " Lion " and " Snake." In Dahomey,
titles thus derived are made superlative: the king is " the
Lion of Lions." And in a kindred spirit the king of LTsam-
bara is called " Lion of Heaven: " a title whence, should
this king undergo apotheosis, myths may naturally result.
From Zulu-land, along with evidence of the same thing,
there comes an illustration of the way in which names of
honour derived from imposing objects, animate and in
animate, are joined with names of honour otherwise de
rived, and pass into certain of those forms of address lately
dealt with. The titles of the king are — " The noble ele
phant," " Thou who art for ever," " Thou who art as high
as the heavens," " The black one," " Thou who art the
bird who eats other birds," " Thou who art as high as the
mountains," &c. Shooter shows how these Zulu titles are
used, by quoting part of a speech adressed to the king —
" You mountain, you lion, you tiger, you that are black.
There is none equal to you." Further, there is proof that
names of honour thus originating, pass into titles applied to
the position occupied, rather than to the occupant consid
ered personally; for a Kaffir chief's wife " is called the Ele-
phantess, while his great wife is called the Lioness."
Guided by such clues, we cannot miss the inference that
the use of kindred names for both kings and gods by extinct
historic races, similarly arose. If we find that now in Mada
gascar one of the king's titles is " Mighty Bull," and are
reminded by this that to the conquering Ramses a like
laudatory name was given by defeated foes, we may reason
ably conclude that from animal-names thus given to kings,
there resulted the animal-names anciently given as names
of honour to deities; so that Apis in Egypt became an
equivalent for Osiris and the Sun, and so that Bull similarly
became an equivalent for the conquering hero and Sun-
god Indra.
With titles derived from imposing inanimate objects it
TITLES. 163
is the same. We have seen how, among the Zulus, the hy
perbolic compliment to the king — " Thou who art as high
as the mountains," passes from the form of simile into the
form of metaphor when he is addressed as " you Mountain."
And that the metaphorical name thus used sometimes be
comes a proper name, proof comes from Samoa; where, as
we saw, " the chief of Pango-Pango " is " now Maunga, or
Mountain." There is evidence that by sundry ancestor-
worshipping peoples, divine titles are similarly derived.
The Chinooks and Navajos and Mexicans in North Amer
ica, and the Peruvians in South America, regard certain
mountains as gods; and since these gods have other names,
the implication is that in each case an apotheosized man had
received in honour either the general name Mountain, or
the name of a particular mountain, as has happened in E"ew
Zealand. From complimentary comparisons to the Sun, re
sult not only personal names of honour and divine names,
but also official titles. On reading that the Mexicans distin
guished Cortes as " the offspring of the Sun," and that the
Chibchas called the Spaniards in general " children of the
Sun," — on reading that " child of the Sun " was a compli
mentary name given to any one particularly clever in Peru,
where the Yncas, regarded as descendants of the Sun, suc
cessively enjoyed a title hence derived; we are enabled to
understand how " Son of the Sun " came to be a title borne
by the successive Egyptian kings, joined with proper names
individually distinctive of them. In elucidation of this as
well as of sundry other points, let me add an account of a
reception at the court of Burmah which has occurred since
the foregoing sentences were first published :—
" A herald lying on his stomach read aloud my credentials. The
literal translation is as follows: ' So-and-So, a great newspaper teach
er of the Daily News of London, tenders to his Most Glorious Excel
lent Majesty, Lord of the Ishaddan, King of Elephants, master of
many white elephants, lord of the mines of gold, silver, rubies, am
ber, and the noble serpentine, Sovereign of the Empires of Thuna-
CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
paranta and Tampadipa, and other great empires and countries, and
of all the umbrella- wearing chiefs, the supporter of religion, the Sun-
descended Monarch, arbiter of life, and great, righteous King, King
of Kings, and possessor of boundless dominions and supreme wis
dom, the following presents.' The reading was intoned in a comical
high recitative, strongly resembling that used when our Church serv
ice is intoned ; and the long-drawn ' Phya-a-a-a-a ' (my lord) which
concluded it, added to the resemblance, as it came in exactly like
the 'Amen' of the Liturgy." [Showing the kinship in religious
worship.]
Given, then, the metaphorically-descriptive name, and
we have the germ from which grow up these primitive titles
of honour; which, at first individual titles, become in some
cases titles attaching to the offices filled.
§ 402. To say that the words which in various lan
guages answer to our word " God," were originally descrip
tive words, will be startling to those who, unfamiliar with
the facts, credit the savage with thoughts like our own^ and
will be repugnant to those who, knowing something of the
facts, yet persist in asserting that the conception of a uni
versal creative power was possessed by man from the be
ginning. But whoever studies the evidence without bias,
will find proof that the general word for deity was at first
simply a word expressive of superiority. Among the Fiji-
ans the name is applied to anything great or marvellous;
among the Malagasy to whatever is new, useful, or extra
ordinary; among the Todas to everything mysterious, so
that, as Marshall says, " it is truly an adjective noun of
eminence." Applied alike to animate and inanimate
things, as indicating some quality above the common, the
word is in this sense applied to human beings, both living
and dead ; but as the dead are supposed to have mysterious
powers of doing good and evil to the living, the word comes
to be especially applicable to them. Though ghost and god
have with us widely-distinguished meanings, yet they are
originally equivalent words; or rather, originally, there is
TITLES. 165
but one word for a supernatural being. And since in early
belief, the other-self of the dead man is equally visible and
tangible with the living man, so that it may be slain,
drowned, or otherwise killed a second time — since the re
semblance is such that it is difficult to learn what is the
difference between a god and a chief among the Fijians —
since the instances of theophany in the Iliad prove that the
Greek god was in all respects so like a man that special
insight was required to discriminate him ; we see how natu
rally it results that the name " god," given to a powerful
being thought of as usually, but not always, invisible, is
sometimes given to a visible powerful being. Indeed, as a
sequence of this theory, it inevitably happens that men
transcending in capacity those around them, are suspected
to be these returned ghosts or gods, to whom special powers
are ordinarily ascribed. Hence the fact that, considered as
the doubles of their own deceased people, Europeans are
called ghosts by Australians, Xew Caledonians, Darnley
Islanders, Kroomen, Calabar people, Mpongwe, &c. Hence
the fact that they are called by the alternative name gods by
Bushmen, Bechuanas, East Africans, Eulahs, Khonds, Fiji
ans, Dyaks, Ancient Mexicans, Chibchas, &c. Hence the
fact that, using the word in the above sense, superior men
among some uncivilized peoples call themselves gods.
The original meaning of the word being thus under
stood, we need feel no surprise on finding that " God " be
comes a title of honour. The king of Loango is so called by
his subjects; as is also the king of Msambara. At the pres
ent time among wandering Arabs, the name " God " is ap
plied in no other sense than as the generic name of the most
powerful living ruler known to them. This makes more
credible than it might else be, the statement that the Grand
Lama, personally worshipped by the Tartars, is called by
them " God, the Father." It is in harmony with such
other facts as that Radama, king of Madagascar, is addressed
by the women who sing his praises as — " O our God; "
69
166 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
and that to the Dahoman king the alternative word " Spir
it " is used ; so that, when he summons any one, the messen
ger says — " The Spirit requires you/7 and when he has
spoken, all exclaim — " The Spirit speaketh true." All
which facts make comprehensible that assumption of ©eo?
as a title by ancient kings in the East, which is to moderns so
astonishing.
Descent of this name of honour into ordinary inter
course, though not common, does sometimes occur. After
what has been said, it will not appear strange that it should
be applied to deceased persons; as it was by the ancient
Mexicans, who " called any of their dead teotl so and so —
i. e., this or that god, this or that saint." And prepared by
such an instance we shall understand its occasional use as a
greeting between the living. Colonel Yule says of the Ka-
sias, " the salutation at meeting is singular — ' Kuble! oh
God.' "
§ 403. The connexion between " God " as a title and
a Father " as a title, becomes clear on going back to those
early forms of conception and language in which the two
are undifferentiated. The fact that even in so advanced a
language as Sanscrit, words which mean " making," " fab
ricating,'7 " begetting," or " generating,77 are indiscrim
inately used for the same purpose, suggests how naturally in
the primitive mind, a father, as begetter or causer of new be
ings, ceasing at death to be visible, is then associated in word
and thought with dead and invisible causers at large, who,
some of them acquiring pre-eminence, come to be regarded
as causers in general — makers or creators. When Sir
Rutherford Alcock remarks that " a spurious mixture of
the theocratic aiid patriarchal elements form the bases of
nil government, both in the Celestial and the Japanese
Empires, under emperors who claim not only to be each the
patriarch and father of his people, but also Divine de
scent; " he adds another to the misinterpretations produced
TITLES. 167
by descending from our own higher conceptions, instead of
ascending from the lower conceptions of the primitive man.
For what he thinks a " spurious mixture " of ideas is, in
fact, a normal union of ideas; which, in the cases named,
has persisted longer than commonly happens in developed
societies.
The Zulus show us this union very clearly. They have
traditions of Unkulunkulu (literally, the old, old one),
" who was the first man," " who came into being and begat
men," " who gave origin to men and everything besides "
(including the sun, moon, and heavens), and who is inferred
to have been a black man because all his descendants are
black. The original Unkulunkulu is not worshipped by
them, because he is supposed to be permanently dead; but
instead of him the Unkulunkulus of the various tribes into
which his descendants have divided, are severally wor
shipped, and severally called " Father." Here, then, the
ideas of a Creator and a Father are directly connected.
Equally specific, or even more specific, are the ideas con
veyed in the response which the ancient Kicaraguans gave
to the question — " Who made heaven and earth? " After
their first answers, " Tamagastad and Qipattoval," " our
great gods whom we call teotes," cross-examination brought
out the further answers — " Our fathers are these teotes / "
" all men and women descend from them; " " they are of
flesh and are man and woman; " " they walked over the
earth dressed, and ate what the Indians ate." Gods and
first parents being thus identified, fatherhood and divinity
become allied ideas. The remotest ancestor supposed to be
still existing in the other world to which he went, " the old,
old one," or " ancient of days," becomes the chief deity;
and so " father " is not, as we suppose, a metaphorical
equivalent for " god," but a literal equivalent.
Therefore it happens that among all nations we find it
an alternative title. In the before-quoted prayer of the
New Caledonian to the ghost of his ancestor — " Compas-
CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
sionate father, here is some food for you ; eat it ; be kind to
us on account of it "• —we are shown that original identifi
cation of fatherhood and godhood, to which all mythologies
and theologies carry us back. We see the naturalness of the
facts that the Peruvian Yncas worshipped their father the
Sun; that Ptah, the first of the dynasty of the gods who
ruled Egypt, is called " the father of the father of the
gods; " and that Zeus is " father of gods and men."
After contemplating many such early beliefs, in which
the divine and the human are so little distinguished, or
after studying the beliefs still extant in China and Japan,
where the rulers, " sons of heaven," claim descent from
these most ancient fathers or gods; it is easy to see how
the name father in its higher sense, comes to be applied to
a living potentate. His proximate and remote ancestors
being all spoken of as fathers, distinguished only by the
prefixes grand, great great, &c., it results that the name
father, given to every member of the series, comes to be
given to the last of the series still living. With this cause
is joined a further cause. Where establishment of descent
in the male line has initiated the patriarchal family, the
name father, even in its original meaning, comes to be
associated with supreme authority, and to be therefore a
name of honour. Indeed, in nations formed by the com
pounding and re-compounding of patriarchal groups, the
two causes coalesce. The remotest known ancestor of each
compound group, at once the most ancient father and the
god of the compound group, being continuously represented
in blood, as well as in power, by the eldest descendant of
the eldest, it happens that this patriarch, who is head not
of his own group only but also of the compound group,
stands to both in a relation analogous to that in which the
apotheosized ancestor stands; and so combines in a measure
the divine character, the kingly character, and the paternal
character.
Hence the prevalence of this word as a royal title. It is
TITLES. 169
used equally by American Indians and by New Zealanders
in addressing the rulers of the civilized. We find it in
Africa. Of the various names for the king among the
Zulus, father heads the list; and in Dahomey, when the
king walked from the throne to the palace, " every inequal
ity was pointed out, with finger snappings, lest it might
offend the royal toe, and a running accompaniment of
'Dadda! Dadda! ' (Grandfather! Grandfather!) and of
'Dedde! Dedde! ' (softly! softly!) was kept up." Asia
supplies cases in which the titles " Lord Raja and Lord
Father " are joined. In Russia, at the present time, father
is a name applied to the Czar; and of old in France, under
the form sire, it was the common name for potentates of
various grades — feudal lords and kings ; and ever continued
to be a name of address to the throne.*
More readily than usual, perhaps from its double mean
ing, has this title been diffused. Everywhere we find it the
name for any kind of superior. Not to the king only among
the Zulus is the word " baba," father, used; but also by in
feriors of all ranks to those above them. In Dahomey a
slave applies this name to his master, as his master applies it
to the king. Livingstone tells us that he was referred to as
" our father " by his attendants; as also was Burchell by
the Bachassins. It was the same of old in the East ; as when
" his servants came near, and spake unto Naaman, and
said, My father," &c. ; and it is the same in the remote
East at the present time. A Japanese " apprentice ad
dresses his patron as ' father.' ' In Siam " children of the
* Though the disputes respecting the origins of sire and sifur have ended in
the conclusion that they are derived from the same root, meaning originally
elder, yet it has become clear that sire was a contracted form in use earlier
than sieur (the contracted form of seigneur], and hence acquired a more gen
eral meaning, which became equivalent to father. Its applicability to various
persons of dignity besides the seigneur, is evidence of its previous evolution
and spread ; and that it had a meaning equivalent to father, is shown by the
fact that in early French, grant-sire was an equivalent for grand-pere, and also
by the fact that sire was not applicable to an unmarried man.
170 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
nobles are called ' father and mother ' by their subordi
nates." And Hue narrates how he saw Chinese labourers
prostrating themselves before a mandarin exclaiming —
" Peace and happiness to our father and mother." Then, as
a stage in the descent to more general use, may be noted its
extension to those who, apart from their rank, have ac
quired the superiority ascribed to age: a superiority some
times taking precedence of rank, as in Siam, and in certain
ways in Japan and China. Such extension occurred in an
cient Rome, where pater was at once a magisterial title
and a title given by the younger to the elder, whether re
lated or not. In Russia at the present time, the equivalent
word is used to the Czar, to a priest, and to any aged
man. Eventually it spreads to young as well as old.
Under the form sire, at first applied to feudal rulers,
major and minor, the title " father " originated our fa
miliar sir.
A curious group of derivatives, common among uncivil
ized and semi-civilized peoples, must be named. The wish
to compliment by ascribing that dignity which fatherhood
implies, has in many places led to the practice of replacing
a man's proper name by a name which, while it recalls this
honourable paternity, distinguishes him by the name of his
child. The Malays have " the same custom as the Dyaks of
taking the name of their first-born, as Pa Sipi, the father
of Sipi.7' The usage is common in Sumatra; and equally
prevails in Madagascar. It is so too among some Indian
Hill tribes: the Kasias " address each other by the names
of their children, as Pabobon, father of Bobon! " Africa
also furnishes instances. Bechuanas addressing Mr. Moffat,
used to say — " I speak to the Father of Mary." And in
the Pacific States of North America there are people so so
licitous to bear this primitive name of honour, that until
a young man has children, his dog stands to him in the
position of a son, and he is known as the father of his
dog.
TITLES.
§ 404. The supremacy associated with age in patri
archal groups, and in societies derived by composition from
patriarchal groups, shown primarily in that honouring of
parents which, as in the Jewish commandments, is put next
to the worship of God, and secondarily in the honouring of
old men in general, gives rise to a kindred but divergent
group of titles. Age being dignified, words indicating sen
iority become names of dignity.
The beginnings may be discerned among the uncivil
ized. Counsels being formed of the older men, the local
name for an older man becomes associated in thought with
an office of power and therefore of honour. Merely noting
this, it will suffice if we trace in European language the
growth of titles hence resulting. Among the Romans sena
tor, or member of the senatus, words having the same root
with sen ex, was a name for a member of the assembly of
elders; and in early times these senators or elders, other
wise called patres, represented the component tribes : father
and elder being thus used as equivalents. From the fur
ther cognate word senior, we have, in derived languages,
signior, seigneur, senlior ; first applied to head men,
rulers, or lords, and then by diffusion becoming names of
honour for those of inferior rank. The same thing has
happenel with ealdor or aldor. Of this Max Miiller
says, — " like many other titles of rank in the various Teu
tonic tongues, it is derived from an adjective implying
age; " so that " earl " and " alderman," both originat
ing from this root, are names of honour similarly result
ing from that social superiority gained by advanced
years.
Whether or not the German title graf should be added,
is a moot point. If Max Miiller is right in considering the
objections of Grimm to the current interpretation inade
quate, then the wrord originally means grey; that is, grey
headed.
172 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
§ 405. We may deal briefly with the remaining titles;
which re-illustrate, in their respective ways, the general
principle set forth.
Like other names of honour that grew up in early
times, the name " king " is one concerning the formation of
which there are differences of opinion. By general agree
ment, however, its remote source is the Sanscrit gandka;
and lt in Sanscrit, ganaka means producing, parent, then
king." If this is the true derivation, we have simply an al
ternative title for the head of the family-group, of the patri
archal group, and of the cluster of patriarchal groups.
The only further fact respecting it calling for remark, is the
way in which it becomes compounded to produce a higher
title. Just as in Hebrew, Abram, meaning " high father/'
came to be a compound used to signify the fatherhood and
headship of any minor groups; and just as the Greek and
Latin equivalents to our patriarch, signified by implication,
if not directly, a father of fathers ; so in the case of the title
" king," it has happened that a potentate recognized as
dominant over numerous potentates, has in many cases
been descriptively called " king of kings." In Abyssinia
this compound royal name is used down to the present
time; as we lately saw that it is also in Burmah. Ancient
Egyptian monarchs assumed it; and it occurred as a su
preme title in Assyria. And here again we meet a cor
respondence between terrestrial and celestial titles. As
" father " and " king " are applied in common to the vis
ible and to the invisible ruler; so, too, is " king of kings."
This need for marking by some additional name the
ruler who becomes head over many rulers, leads to the in
troduction of other titles of honour. In France, for exam
ple, while the king was but a predominant feudal noble, he-
was addressed by the title sire, which was a title borne by
feudal nobles in general; but towards the end of the fif
teenth century, when his supremacy became settled, the
additional word " majesty " grew into use as specially ap-
TITLES. 173
plicable to him. Similarly with the names of secondary
potentates. In the earlier stages of the feudal period, the
titles baron, marquis, duke, and count, were often con
founded: the reason being that their attributes as feudal
nobles, as guards of the marches, as military leaders, and
as friends of the king, were so far common to them as to
yield no clear grounds for distinction. But along with
differentiation of functions wTent differentiation of these
titles.
"The name 'baron,'" says Ch6ruel, "appears to have been the
generic term for every kind of great lord, that of duke for every kind
of military chief, that of count and marquis for every ruler of a ter
ritory. These titles are used almost indiscriminately in the romances
of chivalry. When the feudal hierarchy was constituted, the name
baron denoted a lord inferior in rank to a count and superior to a
simple knight."
That is to say, with the progress of political organization
and the establishment of rulers over rulers, certain titles
became specialized for the dignifying of the superiors, in
addition to those which they had in common with the in
feriors.
As is shown by the above cases, special titles, like gen
eral titles, are not made but grow — are at first descriptive.
Further to exemplify their descriptive origin, and also to
exemplify the undifferentiated use of them in early days,
let me enumerate the several styles by which, in the Mero
vingian period, the mayors of the palace were known; viz.
major domus regie®, senior domus, princeps domus, and in
other instances prwpositus, prcefectus, rector, gubernator,
moderator, dux, custos, subregulus. In which list (noting
as we pass how our own title " mayor/' said to be derived
from the French maire, is originally derived from the Latin
major, meaning either greater or elder) we get proof that
other names of honour carry us back to words implying
age as their originals ; and that in place of such descriptive
words, the alternative words used describe functions.
174 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
§ 406. Perhaps better in the case of titles than in any
other case, is illustrated the diffusion of ceremonial forms
that are first used to propitiate the most powerful only.
Uncivilized and semi-civilized peoples, civilized peoples
of past times, and existing civilized peoples, all furnish
examples. Among Samoans "it is usual, in the courtesies
of common conversation, for all to call each other chiefs.
If you listen to the talk of little boys even, you will hear
them addressing each other as chief this, that, and the other
thing.'7 In Siam, a man's children by any of his inferior
wives, address their father as " my lord, the king; " and the
word Xai, which is the name for chief among the Siamese,
" has become a term of civility which the Siamese give to
one another." A kindred result has occurred in China,
where sons speak of their father as " family's majesty,"
"prince of the family;" and China supplies a further
instance which is noteworthy because it is special. Here,
where the supremacy of ancient teachers became so great,
and where the titles tze m futze, signifying " great teacher,"
added to their names, were subsequently added to the names
of distinguished writers, and where class distinctions based
on intellectual eminence characterize the social organiza
tion; it has resulted that this name of honour signifying
teacher, has become an ordinary complimentary title. An
cient Rome furnishes other evidences. The spirit which
led to the diffusion of titles is well shadowed forth by
Mommsen in describing the corrupt giving of public tri
umphs that were originally accorded only to a " supreme
magistrate who augmented the power of the State in open
battle."
"In order to put an end to peaceful triumphators, . . . the grant
ing of a triumph was made to depend on the producing proof of a
pitched battle which had cost the lives of at least five thousand of the
enemy ; but this proof was frequently evaded by false bulletins. . . .
Formerly the thanks of the community once for all had sufficed for
service rendered to the State ; now every meritorious act seemed to
demand a permanent distinction. ... A custom came into vogue, by
TITLES. 175
which the victor and his descendants derived a permanent surname
from the victories they had won. . . . The example set by the higher
was followed by the humbler classes."
And under influences of this kind, dominus and rex even
tually became titles used to ordinary persons. Nor do mod
ern European nations fail to exemplify the process. The
prevalence of names of rank on the contine-nt, often re
marked, reaches in some places great extremes. " In Meck
lenburg," says Captain Spencer, " it is computed that the
nobility include one half of the population. . . . At one
of the inns I found a Herr Graf [Count] for a landlord,
a Frau Grafinn [Countess] for a landlady, the young Her-
ren Gr'afen filled the places of ostler, waiter, and boots,
while the fair young Fraulein Grafinnen were the cooks and
chambermaids. I was informed that in one village . . .
the whole of the inhabitants were noble except four."
French history shows us more clearly perhaps than any
other, the stages of diffusion. Noting that in early days,
while madame was the title for a noble lady, mademoiselle
was used to the wife of an advocate or physician; and that
when, in the sixteenth century, madame descended to the
married women of these middle ranks, mademoiselle
descended from them to the unmarried women ; let us look
more especially at the masculine titles, sire, seigneur, sieur,
and monsieur. Setting out with sire as an early title for a
feudal noble, we find, from a remark of Montaigne, that in
1580, though still applicable in a higher sense to the king,
it had descended to the vulgar, and was not used for inter
mediate grades. Seigneur, introduced as a feudal title while
sire was losing its meaning by diffusion, and for a period
used alternatively with it, became, in course of time, con
tracted into sieur. By and by sieur also began to spread
to those of lower rank. Afterwards, re-establishing a dis
tinction by an emphasizing prefix, there came into use mon
sieur; which, as applied to great seigneurs, was new in
1321, and which came also to be the title of sons of kings
176 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
and dukes. And then by the time that monsieur also had
become a general title among the upper classes, sieur had
become a bourgeois title. Since which time, by the same
process, the early sire and the later sieur dying out, have
been replaced by the universal monsieur. So that there
appear to have been three waves of diffusion: sire, sieur,
and monsieur have successively spread downwards. K"ay,
even a fourth may be traced. The duplication of the mon
sieur on a letter, doubtless at first used to mark a distinc
tion, has ceased to mark a distinction.
How by this process high titles eventually descend to
the very lowest people, we are shown most startingly in
Spain; where " even beggars address each other as Senor y
Caballero — Lord and Knight."
§ 407. For form's sake, though scarcely otherwise, it is
needful to point out that we are taught here the same lesson
as before. The title-giving among savages which follows
victory over a foe, brute or human, and which literally or
metaphorically distinguishes the individual by his achieve
ment, unquestionably originates in militancy. Though the
more general names father, king, elder, and their deriva
tives, which afterwards arise, are not directly militant in
their implications, yet they are indirectly so; for they are
the names of rulers evolved by militant activity, who habit
ually exercise militant functions: being in early stages al
ways the commanders of their subjects in battle. Down to
our most familiar titles we have this genesis implied. " Es
quire " and " Mister " are derived the one from the name of
a knight's attendant and the other from the name magister
—originally a ruler or chief, who was a military head by
origin and a civil head by development.
As in other cases, comparisons of societies of different
types disclose this relation in another way. Remarking that
in sanguinary and despotic Dahomey, the personal name
" can hardly be said to exist; it changes with every rank of
TITLES. 177
the holder," Burton says — " The dignities seem to be in
terminable; except amongst the slaves and the canaille,
i handles ' are the rule, not the exception, and most of them
are hereditary." So, too, under Oriental despotisms. " The
name of every Burman disappears when he gets a title of
rank or office, and is heard no more; " and in China, " there
are twelve orders of nobility, conferred solely on the mem
bers of the imperial house or clan," besides " the five an
cient orders of nobility." Europe supplies further evi
dence. Travellers in both Russia and Germany, with their
social organizations adapted to war, comment on the " in
sane rage for titles of every description : " the results being
that in Russia " a police-office clerk belongs to the eight
eenth grade, and has the right to the title of Your Hon
our; " and in Germany the names of rank and names of
office so abundantly distributed, are habitually expected and
studiously given, in both speech and writing. Meanwhile
England, for ages past less militant in type, has ever shown
this trait in a smaller degree; and along with the growth of
industrialism and accomp'aying changes of organization,
the use of titles in social intercourse has decreased.
With equal clearness is this connexion seen within each
society. By the thirteen grades in our army and the four
teen grades in our navy, we are shown that the exclusively-
militant structures continue to be characterized in the high-
• est degree by numerous and specific titular marks. To the
ruling classes, descendants or representatives of those who
in past times were heads of military forces, the higher dis
tinctions of rank still mostly belong; and of remaining
titles, the ecclesiastical and legal are also associated with the
regulative organization developed by militancy. Mean
while, the producing and exchanging parts of the society,
carrying on industrial activities, only in exceptional cases
bear any titles beyond those which, descending and spread
ing, have almost lost their meanings.
It is indisputable, then, that serving first to commemo-
178 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
rate the triumphs of savages over their foes, titles have ex
panded, multiplied, and differentiated, as conquests have
formed large societies by consolidation and re-consolidation
of small ones; and that, belonging to the social type gener
ated by habitual war, they tend to lose their uses and their
values, in proportion as this type is replaced by one fitted
for carrying on the pursuits of peace.
CHAPTEE IX.
BADGES AND COSTUMES.
§ 408. The pursuit of interpretations once more takes
us back to victories achieved over men or animals.
Badges are derived from trophies; with which, in early
stages, they are identical. We have seen that by the Sho-
shones, a warrior is allowed to wear the feet and claws of a
grizzly bear, constituting their " highest insignia of glory/'
only when he has killed one: the trophy being thus made
into a recognized mark of honour. And seeing this, we can
not doubt that the buffalo-horns decorating the head of a
Maiidan chief and indicating his dignity, were at first worn
as spoils of the chase in which he prided himself: implying
a genesis of a badge out of a trophy, which gives meaning to
the head-dresses of certain divine and human personages
among ancient peoples.
Beginning as a personal distinction naturally resulting
from personal prowess, like the lion's skin which Hercules
wrears, the trophy-badge borne by a warrior whose supe
riority gains for him supremacy, tends to originate a fam
ily-badge; which becomes a badge of office if his descend
ants retain power. Hence the naturalness of the facts that
in Ukimi " the skin [of a lion] ... is prepared for the
sultan's wear, as no one else dare use it; " that " a leopard-
skin mantle is the insignia of rank among the Zoolus; " and
that in Uganda, certain of the king's attendants wear " leop
ard-cat skins girt round the waist, the sign of royal blood."
179
180 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
Of course if skins or other parts of slain beasts, tend
thus to become badges, so, too, do parts of slain men. " The
Chichimecs flea their heads [of their vanquished enemies]
and fit that skin upon their own heads with all the hair, and
so wear it as a token of valour, till it rots off in bits." Here
the scalp which proves his victory, is itself used in stamp
ing the warrior as honourable. Similarly when, of the Yu-
catanese, Lancia says that " after a victory they tore from
the slain enemy the jaw-bone, and having stripped it of
flesh, they put it on their arm," we may recognize the be
ginning of another kind of badge from another kind of
trophy. Though clear evidence that jawbones become
badges, is not forthcoming, we have good reason to think
that substituted representations of them do. After our war
with Ashantee, where, as we have seen, jawbones are ha
bitually taken as trophies, there were brought over to Eng
land among other curiosities, small models of jawbones
made in gold, used for personal adornment. And facts
presently to be cited suggest that they became ornaments
after having originally been badges worn by those who had
actually taken jawbones from enemies.
§ 409. Besides sometimes losing parts of their bodies,
which thereupon become trophies, conquered men inva
riably lose their weapons, which naturally also become
trophies; as they did among the. Greeks, and as they
did again in the time of Charlemagne, to whom swords
of subdued chiefs were brought. And if, as we see, parts
of vanquished foes' bodies, brute or human, when worn be
come badges; we may expect that the weapons of the van
quished when carried by the victors, will also become
badges.
That swords are thus transformed from trophies' into
badges, if not directly proved is indirectly implied. In
Japan " the constant criterion [of rank] turns upon the
wearing of swords. The higher orders wear two . . . the
BADGES AND COSTUMES. 181
next in rank wear one. . . . To the lower orders, a sword is
strictly prohibited." And since a practice so inconvenient
as that of carrying a superfluous sword, is not likely to have
been adopted gratuitously; it may be inferred that the
" two-sworded man/' as he is called, was originally one who,
in addition to his own sword, wore a sword taken from an
enemy: in which case what is now a badge was once a tro
phy. Even where both swords are not worn, it results
that as the vanquished man is made swordless, the victor's
sword marks him as master in contrast with the swordless
as slave. Hence, then, the fact that in various countries a
sword is a symbol of power. Hence the fact that of old the
investiture of princes was in many cases by the girding on of
a sword. Hence the use of a sword as an emblem of judicial
authority. Implying power and position, the sword
is a mark of honour which, in common with all others, has
tended to spread downwards; as till lately in Japan, where
swordless men in underhand ways acquired the privilege of
wearing swords; and as in France, where, two centuries
ago, punishments for the unauthorized wearing of swords
were inflicted.
Better than the sword does the spear illustrate this gene
sis of the badge from the trophy ; since, while the sword in
becoming a badge retains its original shape, the spear in
becoming a badge partially loses the aspect of a weapon.
In its untransformed state, the spear is used to signify au
thority by various semi-civilized peoples. Among several
parties met by Mr. Ellis when travelling in Madagascar, he
noticed that " the chief usually carried a spear or staff, or
both." " Xo person is permitted to carry weapons of any
sort in the palace," of Uganda, says Speke; " but the king-
habitually bears a couple of spears " : a duplication of
weapons again suggestive, like the two swords, of a trophy.
In Japan, nobles " are entitled in virtue of their rank to
have a spear carried before them when moving about offi
cially." That the javelin was a symbol of authority among
70
182 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
the Hebrews, Ewald infers from 1 Samuel, xviii., 10 and
xx vi., 12 and 22. And then there is the still more signifi
cant fact that a lance or spear, in the time of Pausanias,
was worshipped as the sceptre of Zeus. Early European
history yields further evidence. " The lance was a sign of
kingly power'7 among the Franks, says Waitz; and when
Guntchram adopted Childebert, his nephew, he placed a
spear in his hand, saying, " this is a sign that I have given
over my whole kingdom to thee."t Add the evidence fur
nished by the shape of its terminal ornament, and we cannot
doubt that the sceptre is simply a modified spear — a spear
which, ceasing to be used as a weapon, lost its fitness for de
structive purposes while becoming enriched with gold and
precious stones. That only by degrees did its character as a
weapon disappear, is implied by the fact that the prelate who
consecrated Otho in 937, said — " By this sceptre you shall
paternally chastise your subjects." And then we may infer
that while the spear, borne by the supreme ruler, underwent
transformation into the sceptre, the spears borne by sub
ordinates, symbolizing their deputed authority, gradually
changed into staves of office, batons of command, and
wands.
Other facts from various quarters, support the conclu
sion that all such marks of official power are derived from
the weapons or appendages carried by the militant man.
Among the Araucanians " the discriminative badge of the
toqui [supreme chief] is a species of battle-axe, made of
porphyry or marble." Describing a governor-general of a
Uganda province, Speke says: — " His badge of office is an
iron hatchet, inlaid with copper and handled with ivory."
And then mediaeval Erance supplies two instances in which
other parts of the warrior's belongings became badges.
Plate armour, originally worn by the knight as a defence,
was clung to by the nobility after it had ceased to be useful,
because it was a mark of distinction, says Quicherat; and
spurs, also at first knightly appendages, grew into append-
BADGES AND COSTUMES. 183
ages of honour, and spread through bishops down even to
the ordinary clergy.
§ 410. Another symbol of authority, the flag or ensign,
seems to have had a kindred origin. This, too, is a modified
and developed spear.
Certain usages of the Peruvians yield evidence. Gar-
cilasso says, " the lance was adorned with feathers of many
colours; extending from the point to the socket, and fas
tened with rings of gold. The same ensign served as a ban
ner in time of war." This suggests that the appendages of
the lance, first used for display, incidentally furnished a
means of identification, whereby the whereabouts of the
leader could be traced. And then Mr. Markham's statement
that planting a lance with a banner at the end seems to have
been a sign of the royal presence, while it verifies the in
ference that the lance became by association a mark of gov
ernmental power, suggests also how, by development of its
decorative part, the banner resulted.
That along with consolidation of small societies into
larger ones by conquest, followed by development of mili
tant organization, there arises not only the need for dis
tinguishing each chief of a tribe from his followers, but
also for distinguishing the tribes from one another, is shown
by sundry slightly civilized and semi-civilized peoples.
During wars in the Sandwich Islands, different ranks of
chiefs were distinguished by the sizes and colours of their
feather cloaks. Among the Fijians each band " fights
under its own flag," and " the flags are distinguished from
each other by markings." AVhcn armies were formed by
the Chibchas, " each cazique and tribe came with different
signs on their tents, fitted out with the mantles by which
they distinguished themselves from each other." And " the
Mexicans were very attentive to distinguish persons, par
ticularly in war, by different badges." When with this last
statement we join the further statement that " the armorial
184 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
ensign of the Mexican empire was an eagle in the act of
darting upon a tiger/' recalling the animal-names of the
kings, we are shown how, at any rate in some cases, the
distinctive marks on the flags of leaders represented their
names; carrying us back to those achievements in war and
the chase which originated their names.
That the devices on flags were in early stages commonly
of this kind (though naturally not in cases like those of
Sandwich Islanders and Fijians above named, whose habi
tats contained no wild beasts of fit characters) seems im
plied by the fact that even still, the predatory mammals and
birds of prey which, in early times, mostly furnished the
animal names of great warriors, still linger on flags, or on
the standards carrying them: the reason for the gradual
subordination of the animal-figure being obviously the
growth of that expanse of colour which gives the needful
conspicuousness.
§ 411. And here we come upon the now-familiar in
ference that heraldic badges have descended from these
primitive tribal badges, or totems. That the names of
tribes, in so many parts of the world derived from animals,
and often joined with beliefs that the animals giving the
names were the actual ancestors, sometimes originate tribal
badges, we have direct proof. Of the Thlinkeets we read
in Bancroft that—
"The whole nation is separated into two great divisions or clans,
one of which is called the Wolf, and the other the Raven. Upon
their houses, boats, robes, shields, and wherever else they can find
a place for it, they paint or carve their crest, an heraldic device of
the beast or the bird designating the clan to which the owner be
longs."
With such support for an inference reasonably to be
drawn, we cannot but accept the hypothesis that the heral
dic devices which early prevailed among the civilized, had
a like genesis. When we read that in China, " the Man-
BADGES AND COSTUMES. 185
darins of letters have birds on their Habit embroidered in
Gold, to distinguish their rank; the Mandarins of the
Army have Animals, as the Dragon, the Lion, the Tiger,"
and that " by these Marks of Honour the People know
the Rank these officers have in the nine Degrees of the
State; " we can scarcely draw any other conclusion than
that this use of animal-symbols, however much it has de
viated from its original use, arose from the primitive
system of tribal naming and consequent tribal badges.
And finding that during early times in Europe, coats of
arms were similarly emblazoned upon the dresses, as well
as otherwise displayed, we must infer that whether painted
on coach-panels, chased on plate, or cut on seals, these
family-marks among ourselves have a kindred deriva
tion.
§ 412. Civilized usages obscure the truth that men
were not originally prompted to clothe themselves by either
the desire for warmth or the thought of decency. When
Speke tells us that the Africans attending him, donning
with pride their goat-skin mantles when it was fine, took
them off when it rained, and went about naked and shiver
ing; or when we read in Heuglin that " among the Schiluk
the men go quite naked, even their sultan and his wezir ap
pear in a kind of parti-coloured shirt, only during official in
terviews and on festive occasions; " we are shown that the
dress, like the badge, is at first worn from the wish for ad
miration.
Some of the facts already given concerning American
Indians, who wear as marks of honour the skins of formi
dable animals they have killed, suggest that the badge and
the dress have a common root, and that the dress is, at any
rate in some cases, a collateral development of the badge.
There is evidence that it was so with early European races.
In their Life of the Greeks and Romans, Guhl and Koner
remark: —
186 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
" The covering of the head and the upper part of the body, to
protect them from the weather and the enemy's weapons, originally
consisted of the hide of wild animals. Thus the hunter's trophy
became the warrior's armour. . . . The same custom prevailed
amongst Germanic nations, and seems to have been adopted by the
Roman standard-bearers and trumpeters, as is proved by the monu
ments of the Imperial period."
Whence it is inferable that the honour ableness of the badge
and of the dress, simultaneously arise from the honourable-
ness of the trophy. That possession of a skin-dress passes
into a class-distinction, I find no direct proof; though, as
the skins of formidable beasts often become distinctive
of chiefs, it seems probable that skins in general become
distinctive of a dominant class where a servile class
exists. Indeed, in a primitive society there unavoidably
arises this contrast between those who, engaged in the
chase when not engaged in war, can obtain skin-garments,
and those who, as slaves, are debarred from doing so
by their occupation. Hence, possibly, the interdicts in
mediaeval Europe against the wearing of furs by the inferior
classes.
Even apart from this it is inferable that since, by taking
his clothes, nakedness is commonly made a trait of the pris
oner, and consequently of the slave, relative amount of
clothing becomes a class-distinction. In some cases there
result exaggerations of the difference thus incidentally aris
ing. Where the inferior are clothed, the superior distin
guish themselves by being more clothed. Cook says of the
Sandwich Islanders that quantity of clothing is a mark of
position, and of the Tongans he says the same; while he tells
us that in Tahiti, the higher classes signify their rank by
wearing a large amount of clothing at great inconvenience
to themselves. A kindred case occurs in Africa. Accord
ing to Laird, " on all great occasions it is customary for the
king " of Fundah " and his attendants to puff themselves
out to a ridiculous size with cotton wadding." And the
Arabs furnish an allied fact. In Kaseem " it is the fashion
BADGES AND COSTUMES. 187
to multiply this important article of raiment [shirts] by
putting on a second over the first and a third over the sec
ond.'7
That there simultaneously arise differences in the forms
and in qualities of the dresses worn^by rulers and ruled,
scarcely needs saying. Obviously, the partial dress of the
slave must become distinguished by shape as well as by
amount, from the complete dress of the master; and ob
viously, the clothing allowed to him as a slave will be
relatively coarse. But beyond the distinctions thus marking
rank in early stages, there must in later stages habitually
arise further such distinctions. As wars between small
societies end from time to time in subjugation, it must hap
pen that when the dress of the ruling class of the con
quering society differs from that of the ruling class of the
society conquered, it will become distinctive of the new and
higher ruling class. There is evidence that contrasts were
thus initiated during the spread of the Romans. Those
inhabitants of Gaul who were inscribed Roman citizens,
wore the Roman costume, and formed a privileged order.
" The Gallo-Romans, who were incomparably the more
numerous . . . were obliged to dress otherwise : " freemen
meanwhile being distinguished from slaves, and slaves from
coloni, by their mantles.
Distinctions of rank naturally come to be marked by the
colours of dresses, as well as by their quantities, qualities,
and shapes. The coarse fabrics worn by the servile classes,
must as a matter of course be characterized by those dull
colours possessed by the raw materials used; as happened
in Rome, where " only poor people, slaves and freedmen,
wore dresses of the natural brown or black colour of the
wool." Consequently, bright colours will habitually distin
guish the dresses of the ruling classes, able to spend money
on costly dyes. Illustrations come from many countries.
In Madagascar the use of a " dress of entire scarlet is the
prerogative of the sovereign alone. " In Siam " the Prince;
188 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
and all who follow him in war or the chase, are clothed in
red." " The Kututuchtu [Mongol pontiff] and his lamas
are all clothed in yellow, and no layman is allowed to wear
this colour except the prince." In China also, yellow is the
imperial colour, limited to the emperor and his clan; and
among the Chinese other colours, crimson, green, &c.,
mark potentates of divers grades, while sashes and caps of
various bright hues are marks of rank. Then in Europe we
have, during the last years of the Roman republic, the wear
ing of scarlet, violet, arid purple, by men of the wealth
ier classes; ending in the purple of special quality distinc
tive of the emperor, when his supremacy became established
And among later peoples like causes have effected like dis
tinctions. In mediaeval France scarlet, as the most costly
colour, was worn exclusively by princes, knights, and women
of high rank. " ( The laws ordain that no one shall wear
purple, which signifies exalted rank, except the nobles.'
Froissart, speaking of Artevelle, chief of the revolted Gan-
tese, says that ' he was clothed in sanguine robes and in
scarlet, like the Duke of Brabant and the Count of Hai-
naut.' "
Of course with that development of ceremonial control
which goes along with elaboration of political structure,
differences of quantity, quality, shape and colour, are united
to produce dresses distinctive of classes. This trait is most
marked where the rule is most despotic; as in China where
" between the highest mandarin or prime minister, and the
lowest constable, there are nine classes, each distinguished
by a dress peculiar to itself; " as in Japan, where the at
tendants of the Mikado " are clad after a particular fashion
. . . and there is so much difference even among them
selves, as to their habits, that thereby alone it is easily
known what rank they are of, or what employment they
have at Court; " and as in European countries during
times of unchecked personal government, when each class
had its distinctive costume.
BADGES AND COSTUMES. 189
§ 413. The causes which have originated, developed,
and specialized badges and dresses, have done the like with
ornaments; which have, indeed, the same origins.
How trophy-badges pass into ornaments, we shall see on
joining with facts given at the outset of the chapter, certain
kindred facts. In Guatemala, when commemorating by
war-dances the victories of earlier times, the Indians were
" dressed in the skins and wearing the heads of animals on
their own; " and among the Chibchas, persons of rank
" wore helmets, generally made of the skins of fierce ani
mals." If we recall the statement already quoted, that in
primitive European times, the warrior's head and shoulders
were protected by the hide of a wild animal (the skin of its
head sometimes surmounting his head) ; and if we add the
statement of Plutarch that the Cimbri wore helmets repre
senting the heads of wild beasts ; we may infer that the ani
mal-ornaments on metal-helmets began as imitations of
hunter's trophies. This inference is supported by evidence
already cited in part, but in part reserved for the present oc
casion. The Ashantees who, as we have seen, take human
jaws as trophies, use both actual jaws and golden models of
jaws for different decorative purposes: adorning their musi
cal instruments, &c., with the realities, and carrying on
their persons the metallic representations. A parallel deri
vation occurs among the Malagasy. When we read that by
them silver ornaments like crocodile's teeth are worn on
various parts of the body, we can scarcely doubt that the
silver teeth are substitutes for actual teeth originally worn
as trophies.
We shall the less doubt this derivation on observing in
how many parts of the world personal ornaments are made
out of these small and durable parts of conquered men and
animals, — how by Caribs, Tupis, Moxos, Ashantees, human
teeth are made into armlets, anklets, and necklaces; and
how in other cases the teeth of beasts, mostly formidable,
are used in like ways. The necklaces of the Land Dyaks
190 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
contain tiger-cat's teeth ; the New Guinea people ornament
their necks, arms, and waists with hogs' teeth; while the
Sandwich Islanders have bracelets of the polished tusks of
the hog, with anklets of dogs' teeth. Some Dacotahs wear
" a kind of necklace of white bear's claws, three inches
long." Among the Kukis " a common armlet worn by the
men consists of two semi-circular boar's tusks tied together
so as to form a ring." Enumerating objects hanging from
a Dy all's ear, Boyle includes " two boar's tusks, one alli
gator's tooth." And picturing what her life would be at
home, a captive New Zealand girl in her lament says — " the
shark's tooth would hang from my ear." Though small
objects which are attractive in colour and shape, will natu
rally be used by the savage for decorative purposes, yet pride
in displaying proofs of his prowess, will inevitably make
him utilize fit trophies in preference to other things, when
he has them. The motive which made Mandans have their
buffalo-robes " fringed on one side with scalp-locks," which
prompts a Naga chief to adorn the collar round his neck
with " tufts of the hair of the persons he had killed," and
which leads the Hottentots to ornament their heads with
the bladders of the wild beasts they have slain, as Kolben
tells us, will inevitably tend to transform trophies into
decorations wherever it is possible. Indeed while I write
I find direct proof that this is so. Concerning the Snake
Indians, Lewis and Clarke say :—
"The collar most preferred, because most honourable, is one of
the claws of the brown bear. To kill one of these animals is as dis
tinguished an achievement as to have put to death an enemy, and in
fact with their weapons is a more dangerous trial of courage. These
claws are suspended on a thong of dressed leather, and being orna
mented with beads, are worn round the neck by the warriors writh
great pride."
And sundry facts unite in suggesting that many of the
things used for ornaments were at first substitutes for tro
phies having some resemblance to them. When Tuckey
BADGES AND COSTUMES. 191
tells us that the natives of the Congo region make their
necklaces, bracelets, &c., of iron and brass rings, lion's
teeth, beads, shells, seeds of plants; we may suspect that
the lion's teeth stand to the beads and shells in much the
same relation that diamonds do to paste.
And then from cases in which the ornament is an actual
trophy or representation of a trophy, we pass to cases in
which it avowedly stands in place of a trophy. Describing
practices of the Chibchas, Acosta says that certain of their
strongest and bravest men had " their lips, noses, and ears
pierced, and from them hung strings of gold quills, the
number of which corresponded with that of the enemies
they had killed in battle: " the probability being that these
golden ornaments, originally representations of actual tro
phies, had lost resemblance to them.
Thus originating, adornments of these kinds become
distinctive of the wTarrior-class ; and there result interdicts
on the use of them by inferiors. Such interdicts have oc
curred in various places. Among the Chibchas, " paint
ings, decorations and jewels on dresses, and ornaments, were
forbidden to the common people." So, too, in Peru, " none
of the common people could use gold or silver, except by
special privilege." And without multiplying evidence
from nearer regions, it will suffice to add that in mediaeval
France, jewellery and plate were marks of distinction not
allowed to those below a certain rank.
Of course decorations beginning as actual trophies,
passing into representations of trophies made of precious
materials, and, while losing their resemblance to trophies,
coming to be marks of honour given to brave warriors by
their militant rulers (as in Imperial Rome, where armlets
were thus awarded) inevitably pass from relative uniform
ity to relative multiformity. As society complicates there
result orders of many kinds — stars, crosses, medals, and the
like. These it is observable are most if not all of them of
military origin. And then where a militant organization
192 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
evolved into rigidity, continues after the life has ceased to
be militant, we find such decorations used to mark ranks of
another kind; as in China, with its differently-coloured
buttons distinguishing its different grades of mandarins.
I must not, however, be supposed to imply that this
explanation covers all cases. Already I have admitted that
the rudimentary aesthetic sense which leads the savage to
paint his body, has doubtless a share in prompting the use
of attractive objects for ornaments; and two other origins
of ornaments must be added. Cook tells us that the New
Zealanders carry suspended to their ears the nails and teeth
of their deceased relations; and much more bulky relics,
which are carried about by widows and others among some
races, may also occasionally be modified into decorative ob
jects. Further, it seems that badges of slavery undergo a
kindred transformation. The ring through the nose, which
Assyrian sculptures show us was used for leading captives
taken in war, which marked those who, as priests, entered
the service of certain gods in ancient America, and which in
Astrachan is even now a sign of dedication, that is of sub
jection; seems elsewhere to have lost its meaning, and to
have survived as an ornament. And this is a change analo
gous to that which has occurred with marks on the skin.
(§ 364)
§ 414. We cannot say that the wish to propitiate, which
caused the spread of present-giving, of obeisances, of com
plimentary addresses, and of titles, has also caused the
spread of badges, costumes, and decorations. In this case it
is rather that the lower grades have sought to raise them
selves into the grades above, by assuming their distinctive,
marks; and that, where feared, they have been propitiated
by allowing them to do this.
Already in passing we have noted how such badges of
rank as swords and as spurs, have descended even in spite
of interdicts; and here must be added proofs that the like
BADGES AND COSTUMES. 193
has occurred with dresses and ornaments. It was thus in
Rome. " All these insignia," writes Mommsen, " proba
bly belonged at first only to the nobility proper, i. e. to the
agnate descendants of curule magistrates; although, after
the manner of such decorations, all of them in course of time
were extended to a wider circle.7' And then, in illustration,
he says that the purple-bordered toga, originally significant
of the highest rank, had, as early as the time of the second
Punic wrar, descended " even to the sons of freedmen; "
while the gold amulet-case distinguishing the triumphator,
was, at the same date, " only mentioned as a badge of the
children of senators." So was it, too, with signet rings.
" Originally only ambassadors sent to foreign nations were allowed
to wear gold rings . . . ; later, senators and other magistrates of
equal rank, and soon afterwards knights, received the jus annuli
aurei. After the civil war, . . . the privilege was frequently en
croached upon. The first emperors tried to enforce the old law, but
as many of their freedmen had become entitled to wear gold rings,
the distinction lost its value. After Hadrian the gold ring ceased to
be the sign of rank."
Sumptuary laws in later times, have shown us alike the
distinctions of dress which once marked off classes and the
gradual breaking down of those distinctions; as, for exam
ple, in mediaeval France. Just alluding to the facts that in
early days silk and velvet were prohibited to those below a
certain grade, that under Philip Augustus shoe-points were
limited in their lengths to six inches, twelve inches, or
twenty-four inches according to social position, and that in
the 17th century, ranks at the French court were marked by
the lengths of trains; it will suffice, in illustration of the
feelings and actions which cause and resist such changes, to
name the complaints of moralists in the 14th and 15th cen
turies, that by extravagance in dress " all ranks were con
founded," and to add that in the 16th century, women were
sent to prison by scores for wearing clothes like those of
their superiors.
How this diffusion of dresses marking honourable posi-
CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
tion and disuse of dresses marking inferiority, lias gone far
among ourselves, but is still incomplete, is shown in almost
every household. On the one hand we have the fashionable
gowns of cooks and housemaids ; on the other hand we have
that dwarfed representative of the muslin cap, which, once
hiding the hair, was insisted upon by mistresses as a class
distinction, but which, gradually dwindling, has now be
come a small patch on the back of the head : a good instance
of the unobtrusive modifications by which usages are
changed.
§ 415. Before summing up, I must point out that
though, in respect of these elements of ceremony, there are
not numerous parallelisms between the celestial rule and the
terrestrial rule, still there are some. That the symbol of
dominion, the sceptre, originally derived from a weapon,
the spear, is common to the two, will be at once recalled as
one instance; and the ball held in the hand as a second.
Further, in regions so far from one another as Polynesia
and ancient Italy, we find such communities of dress be
tween the divine and the human potentate, as naturally
follow the genesis of deities by ancestor-worship. Ellis
tells us that the Tahitians had a great religious festival at
the coronation of their kings. During the ceremonies, he
was girded with the sacred girdle of red feathers, which
identified him with the gods. And then in ancient Rome,
says Mommsen, the king's " costume was the same as that
of the supreme god; the state-chariot, even in the city
where everyone else went on foot, the ivory sceptre wTith
the eagle, the vermilion-painted face, the chaplet of oaken
leaves in gold, belonged alike to the Roman god and to the
Roman king."
As clearly as in preceding cases, we see, in the genesis
of badges and costumes, how ceremonial government begins
with, and is developed by, militancy. Those badges which
carry us back for their derivation to trophies taken from the
BADGES AND COSTUMES. 195
bodies of slain brutes and men, conclusively show this ; and
we are shown it with equal collusiveness by those badges,
or symbols of authority, which were originally weapons
taken from the vanquished. On finding that a dress, too,
originally consisting of a wild animal's skin, has at the out
set like implications bringing like honours; and on finding
also that as a spoil wrenched from the conquered man, the
dress, whether a trophy of the chase or of other kind, comes
by its presence and absence to be distinctive of conqueror
and conquered; and on further finding that in subsequent
stages such additional dress-distinctions as arise, are brought
in by members of conquering societies, differently clothed
from both upper and lower classes of the societies con
quered; we are shown that from the beginning these con
spicuous marks of superiority and inferiority resulted from
war. And after seeing how war incidentally initiated
badges and costumes, we shall understand how there fol
lowed a conscious recognition of them as connected with
success in arms, and as being for that reason honourable.
Instances of this direct relation are furnished by the mili
tant societies of ancient America. In Mexico, the king
could not wear full dress before he had made a prisoner in
battle. In Peru, " those (of the vassals) who had worked
most in the subjugation of the other Indians . . . were al
lowed to imitate the Ynca most closely in their badges."
And how dresses, at first marking military supremacy, be
come afterwards dresses marking political supremacy, or
political power derived from it, we may gather from the
statement that in ancient Rome " the toga picta and the toga
palmata (the latter so called from the palm branches em
broidered on it) were worn by victorious commanders at
their triumphs; also (in imperial times) by consuls entering
on their office, by the prsetors at \hQpompa circensis, and by
tribunes of the people at theAugustalia."
Enforcing direct evidence of this kind, comes the in
direct evidence obtained by comparing societies of different
196 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
types and by comparing different stages of the same society.
In China and Japan, where the political organization
evolved in ancient times by war, acquired a rigidity which
has kept it unchanged till modern times, we see great per
sistence of these class-badges and costumes; and among
European nations, those which have retained types pre
dominantly militant, are in greater degrees characterized
by the prevalence of special dresses and decorations than
those which have become relatively industrial in their types.
In Russia, " a dress which could not denote the rank of
the man, and a man whose only worth should arise from his
personal merit, would be considered as anomalies." De
scribing a Russian dinner-party, Dr. Moritz Wagner says —
" I found that on the breasts of thirty-five military guests,
there glittered more than two hundred stars and crosses;
many of the coats of generals had more orders than but
tons." And this trait which by contrast strikes a German in
Russia, similarly by contrast strikes an Englishman in Ger
many. Capt. Spencer remarks — " I do not believe that any
people in Europe are more partial to titles and orders than
the Germans, and more especially the Austrians." And
then after recalling the differences between the street-scenes
on the Continent and in England, caused by the relative in-
frequency here of official costumes, military and civil, we
are reminded of a further difference of kindred nature.
For here among the non-official, there are fewer remnants
of those class-distinctions in dress which were everywhere
pronounced during the more militant past. The blouse of
the French workman stamps him in a way in which the
Avorkman in England is not stamped by his comparatively
varied dress; and the French woman-servant is much more
clearly identifiable as such by cap and gown than is her
sister in England. Along with this obliteration of visible
distinctions carried further at home than abroad, there is
another kind of obliteration also carried further. Official
costumes, in early times worn constantly, have tended in
BADGES AND COSTUMES. 197
the less militant countries to fall into disuse, save during
times for performing official functions; and in England
this change, more marked than elsewhere, has gone to the
extent of leading even military and naval officers to assume
" mufti " when off duty.
Most striking, however, is the evidence yielded by the
general contrast between the controlling part of each so
ciety and the controlled part. The facts that those who
form the regulative organization, which is originated by
militancy, are distinguished from those who form the or
ganization regulated, which is of industrial origin, by the
prevalence among them of visible signs of rank; and that
the militant part of this regulative organization is more
than the rest characterized by the conspicuousness, multi
plicity, and definiteness, of those costumes and badges
which distinguish both its numerous divisions and the nu
merous ranks in each division; are facts unmistakably sup
porting the inference that militancy has generated all these
marks of superiority and inferiority.
71
CHAPTEB X.
FURTHER CLASS-DISTINCTIONS.
§ 416. Foregoing chapters have shown how, from
primitive usages of the ceremonial kind, there are derived
usages which, in course of time, lose the more obvious traces
of their origin. There remain to be pointed out groups of
secondarily-derived usages still more divergent.
In battle, it is important to get the force of gravity to
fight on your side ; and hence the anxiety to seize a position
above that of the foe. Conversely, the combatant who is
thrown down, cannot further resist without struggling
against his own weight, as wrell as against his antagonist's
strength. Hence, being below is so habitually associated
with defeat, as to have made maintenance of this relation
(literally expressed by the words superior and inferior) a
leading element in ceremony at large. The idea of relative
elevation as distinguishing the positions of rulers from those
of ruled, runs through our language; as when we speak of
higher and lower classes, upper and under servants, and call
officers of minor rank subordinates or subalterns. Every
where this idea enters into social observances. That ten
dency to connect the higher level with honourableness,
which among ourselves in old times was shown by reserving
the dais for those of rank and leaving the body of the hall
for common people, produces in the East, where ceremonial
is so greatly developed, various rigid regulations. Writing
of Lombock, Wallace says —
198
FURTHER CLASS-DISTINCTIONS. 199
"The highest seat is literally, with these people, the place of
honour and the sign of rank. So unbending are the rules in this re
spect, that when an English carriage which the Rajah of Lornbock
had sent for, arrived, it was found impossible to use it because the
driver's seat was the highest, and it had to be kept as a show in its
coach-house."
Similarly, according to Yule, in Burmah. " That any per
son should occupy a floor over head, would be felt as an in
tense degradation. ... To the same reason is generally
ascribed the little use made by the kings of Ava of the car
riages, which have at various times been sent to them as
presents." So too of Siam, Bowring remarks:—
"No man of inferior rank dares to raise his head to the level of
that of his superior; no person can cross a bridge if an individual of
higher grade chances to be passing below ; no mean person may walk
upon a floor above that occupied by his betters."
And this idea that relative elevation is an essential accom
paniment of superior rank, we shall presently see dictates
several kinds of sumptuary regulations.
Other derivative class-distinctions are sequent upon dif
ferences of wealth; which themselves originally follow
differences of power. From that earliest stage in which
master and slave are literally captor and captive, abundance
of means has been the natural concomitant of mastery, and
poverty the concomitant of slavery. Hence where the
militant type of organization predominates, being rich in
directly implies being victorious, or having the political
supremacy gained by victory. It is true that some primi
tive societies furnish exceptions. Among the Dacotahs
" the civil-chiefs and war-chiefs are distinguished from the
rest by their poverty. They generally are poorer clad than
any of the rest." The like holds of the Abipones, whose
customs supply an explanation. A cazique, distinguished
by the " peculiar oldness and shabbiness " of his clothes,
remains shabby because, if he puts on " new and handsome
apparel, . . . the first person he meets will boldly cry
' Give me that dress ' . . . and unless he immediately
200 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
parts with it, lie becomes the scoff and the scorn of all, and
hears himself called covetous and niggardly." But with a
few such exceptions, marks of wealth are regarded as marks
of honour, even by primitive peoples. Among the Mish-
mis,
"The skull of every animal that has graced the board, is hung up
as a record in the hall of the entertainer ; . . . and when he dies, the
whole smoke-dried collection of many years is piled upon his grave
as a monument of his riches and a memorial of his worth."
A like usage occurs in Africa. " The Bambarans," says
Caillie, " hang on the outside of their huts the heads of all
the animals they eat ; this is looked upon as a mark of gran
deur." And then on the Gold Coast, " the richest man is
the most honoured, without the least regard to nobility."
Naturally the honouring of wealth, beginning in these early
stages, continues through subsequent stages; and signs of
wealth hence become class-distinctions: so originating vari
ous ceremonial restrictions.
Carrying with us the two ruling ideas thus briefly exem
plified, we shall readily trace the genesis of sundry curious
observances.
§ 417. In tropical countries the irritation produced by
flies is a chief misery in life; and sundry habits which
in our eyes are repulsive, result from endeavours to mitigate
this misery. In the absence of anything better, the lower
races of mankind cover their bodies with films of dirt as
shields against these insect-enemies. Hence, apparently,
one motive for painting the skin. Juarros says: — " The
barbarians, or unreclaimed Indians, of Guatemala ....
always paint themselves black, rather for the purpose of
defence against mosquitoes than for ornament." And then
we get an indication that where the pigment used, being
decorative and costly, is indicative of wealth, the abundant
use of it becomes honourable. In Tanna " some of the
chiefs show their rank by an extra coat of pigment [red
FURTHER CLASS-DISTINCTIONS. 201
earth on the face], and have it plastered on as thick as
clay." Coming in this way to distinguish the man of power
who possesses much, from subject men who possess little,
the putting on of a protective covering to the skin, grows
into a ceremony indicating supremacy. Says D. Duran
of the Mexicans, " they anointed [Vitziliuitl, the elected
king] on his whole body with the bitumen with which they
anointed the statue of their god Vitzilopochtli ; " and speci
fying otherwise the material used, Herrera says " they
crowned and anointed Yitzilocutly with an ointment they
called divine, because they used it to their idol."
Instead of earths, paints, and bituminous substances,
other people employ for protecting the skin, oils and fatty
matters. Proof exists that the use of these also, in great
quantity and of superior quality, serves to indicate wealth,
and consequently rank ; and, guided by the above facts, we
may suspect that there have hence arisen certain ceremonies
performed in recognition of superior power. Africa fur
nishes two pieces of evidence which go far to justify this
conclusion.
"The richer a Hottentot is," says Kolben, "the more Fat and
Butter he employs in anointing himself and his family. This is the
grand Distinction between the Rich and the Poor. . . . Everyone's
Wealth, Magnificence, and Finery being measured by the Quantity
and delicacy of the Butter or Fat upon his Body and Apparel."
And then we read in Wilkinson that —
''With the Egyptians as with the Jews, the investiture to any
sacred office, as that of king or priest, was confirmed by this external
sign [of anointing] ; and as the Jewish lawgiver mentions the cere
mony of pouring oil on the head of the high-priest after he had put
on his entire dress, with the mitre and crown, the Egyptians repre
sent the anointing of their priests and kings after they were attired
in their full robes with the cap and crown upon their head. . . .
They also anointed the statues of the gods ; which was done with the
little finger of the right hand. . . . The custom of anointing was the
ordinary token of welcome to guests in every party at the house of a
friend. . . . The dead were made to participate in it, as if sensible
of the token of esteem thus bestowed upon them."
202 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
When we thus find that among some uncivilized people
the abundance and fine quality of the fat used for protecting
the skin marks wealth, and consequently rank; when we
join with this a proof that the anointing with unguents
among the Egyptians was an act of propitiation, alike to
gods, kings, deceased persons, and ordinary guests; and
when we remember that the anointment with which Christ
was anointed was " precious; " we may reasonably infer
that this ceremony attending investiture with sovereign
ty was originally one indicating the wealth that implied
power.
§ 418. The idea of relative height and the idea of rela
tive wealth, appear to join in originating certain building
regulations expressive of class-distinctions. An elevated
abode implies at once display of riches and assumption of
a position overlooking others. Hence, in various places,
limitations of the heights to which different ranks may
build. In ancient Mexico, under Montezuma's laws, " no
one was allowed to build a house with [several] stories, ex
cept the great lords and gallant captains, on pain of death."
A kindred regulation exists at the present time in Dahomey ;
where the king, wishing to honour some one, " gave him a
formal leave to build a house two stories high; " and wThere
" the palace and the city gates are alloAved five surish
[steps] ; chiefs have four tall or five short, and all others
three, or as the king directs." There are restrictions of like
kind in Japan. " The height of the street-front, and even
the number of windows, are determined by sumptuary
laws." So, too, is it in Burmah. Yule says: — ( The char
acter of house, and especially of roof, appropriate to each
rank, appears to be a matter of regulation, or inviolable pre
scription; " and, according to Sangermano, "nothing less
than death can expiate the crime, either of choosing a shape;
[for a house] that does not belong to the dignity of the mas
ter, or of painting the house white j which colour is per-
FURTHER CLASS-DISTINCTIONS. 203
mitted to the members of the royal family alone." More
detailed are the interdicts named by Syme.
"Piasath, the regal spire, distinguishes the dwellings of the mon
arch and the temples of the divinity. To none other is it allowed.
. . . There are no brick buildings either in Pegue or Rangoon except
such as belong to the king, or are dedicated to their divinity Gauda-
ma. . . . Gilding is forbidden to all subjects of the Birman Empire.
Liberty even to lacker and paint the pillars of their houses, is granted
to very few."
§ 419. Along with laws forbidding those of inferior
rank to have the higher and more ornamental houses which
naturally imply the wealth that accompanies power, there
go interdicts on the use by common people of various appli
ances to comfort which the man of rank and influence has.
Among these may first be noted artificial facilities for loco
motion.
A sketch in an African book of travels, representing the
king of Obbo making a progress, seated on the shoulders of
an attendant, shows us in its primitive form, the connexion
between being carried by other men and the exercise of
power over other men. Marking, by implication, a ruling
person, the palanquin or equivalent vehicle is in many
places forbidden to inferior persons. Among the ancient
Chibchas, " the law did* not allow any one to be carried in a
litter on the shoulders of his men, except the Bogota and
those to whom he gave the privilege." Prior to the year
1821, no person in Madagascar " was allowed to ride in the
native chair or palanquin, except the royal family, the
judges, and first officers of state." So, too, in Europe, there
have been restrictions on the use of such chairs. Among the
Romans, " in town only the senators and ladies were al
lowed to be carried in them; " and in France, in past times,
the sedan was forbidden to those below a certain rank. In
some places the social status of the occupant is indicated by
the more or less costly accompaniments. Kcempfer says
that in Japan, " the bigness and length of these [sedan]
204 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
poles had been determined by the political laws of the em
pire, proportionable to every one's quality." . . . The
sedan " is carried by two, four, eight, or more men, accord
ing to the quality of the person in it." The like happens in
China. " The highest officers are carried by eight bearers,
others by four, and the lowest by two : this, and every other
particular, being regulated by laws." Then, elsewhere, the
character of appliances for locomotion on water is similarly
prescribed. In Turkey, " the hierarchy of rank is main
tained and designated by the size of each Turkish function
ary's boat; " and in Siam " the height and ornaments of the
cabin [in barges] designate the rank or the functions of the
occupier."
As the possession of chair-bearers, who in early stages
are slaves, implies alike the mastery and the wealth always
indicative of rank in societies of militant type ; so, too, does
possession of attendants to carry umbrellas or other protec
tions against the sun. Hence interdicts on the use of these
by inferiors. Such restrictions occur in comparatively
early stages. In Fiji (Somo-somo) only the king and the
two high priests in favour, can use the sun-shade. In Congo
only those of royal blood are allowed to use an umbrella,
or to be carried in a mat. The sculptured records of ex
tinct eastern peoples, imply the existence of this class-mark.
Among the Assyrians,
"the officers in close attendance upon the monarch varied accord
ing to his employment. In war he was accompanied by his chariot
eer, his shield-bearer or shield-bearers, his groom, his quiver-bearer,
his mace-bearer, and sometimes by his parasol-bearer. In peace the
parasol-bearer is always represented as in attendance, except in hunt
ing exp3ditions, or where he is replaced by a fan-bearer."
Adjacent parts of the world show us the same mark of dis
tinction in use down to the present time. " From India to
Abyssinia," says Burton, " the umbrella is the sign of roy
alty." Still further east this symbol of dignity is multiplied
to produce the idea of greater dignity. In Siam, at the
FURTHER CLASS-DISTINCTIONS. 205
king's coronation, " a page comes forward and presents to
the king the seven-storied umbrella, — the savetrawat or
primary symbol of royalty." And when the emperor of
China leaves his palace, he is accompanied by twenty men
bearing large umbrellas and twenty fan-bearers. Else
where umbrellas, not monopolized by kings, may be used by
others, but with differences; as in Java, where custom pre
scribes six colours for the umbrellas of six ranks. Evi
dently the shade-yielding umbrella is closely allied to the
shade-yielding canopy; the use of which also is a class-dis
tinction. Ancient America furnished a good instance.
In Utlatlan the king sat under four canopies, the " elect "
under three, the chief captain under two, and the second
captain under one. And here we are reminded that this de
veloped form of the umbrella, having four supports, is
alike in the East and in Europe, used in exaltation of both
the divine ruler and the human ruler: in the one region
borne by attendants over kings and supported in a more per
manent manner over the cars in which idols are drawn ; and
in the other used alike in state-processions and ecclesiastical
processions, to shade now the monarch and now the Host.
Of course with regulations giving to higher ranks the
exclusive enjoyment of the more costly conveniences, there
go others forbidding the inferior to have conveniences of
even less costly natures. For example, in Fiji the best kind
of mat for lying on is forbidden to the common people. In
Dahomey, the use of hammocks is a royal prerogative,
shared in only by the whites. Concerning the Siamese,
Bowring says: — " We were informed that the use of such
cushions [more or less ornamented, according to rank] was
prohibited to the people." And we learn from Bastian that
among the Joloffs the use of the mosquito-curtain is a royal
prerogative.
§ 420. Of sumptuary laws, those regulating the uses of
foods may be traced back to very early stages — stages in
206 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
which usages have not yet taken the shape of laws. They
go along with the subordination of the young to the old,
and of females to males. Among the Tasmanians, " the old
men get the best food; " and Sturt says, " only the old men
of the natives of Australia have the privilege of eating the
emu. For a young man to eat it is a crime." The Khond
women, Macpherson tells us, " for some unknown cause,
are never, I am informed, permitted to eat the flesh of the
hog." In Tahiti " the men were allowed to eat the flesh of
the pig, and of fowls, and a variety of fish, cocoa-nuts, and
plantains, and whatever was presented as an offering to the
gods, which the females, on pain of death, were forbidden
to touch." After stating that the Fijian women are never
permitted to enter the temple, the United States' explorers
add — " nor, as we have seen, to eat human flesh, at least in
public."
Of food-restrictions other than those referring to age
and sex, may first be named one from Fiji — one which also
refers to the consumption of human flesh. Seeman says
" the common people throughout the group, as well as
women of all classes, were by custom debarred from it.
Cannibalism was thus restricted to the chiefs and gentry."
Of other class-restrictions on food, ancient America fur
nishes examples. Among the Chibchas, " venison could
not be eaten unless the privilege had been granted by the
cazique." In San Salvador, " none formerly drank choco
late but the prime men and notable soldiers; " and in Peru
" the kings (Yncas) had the coca as a royal possession
and privilege."
Of course there might be added to these certain of the
sumptuary laws respecting food which prevailed during
past times throughout Europe.
§ 421. Of the various class-distinctions which imply su
perior rank by implying greater wealth, the most curious re
main. I refer to certain inconvenient, and sometimes pain-
FURTHER CLASS-DISTINCTIONS. 207
ful, traits, only to be acquired by those whose abundant
means enable them to live without labour, or to indulge in
some kind of sensual excess.
One group of these distinctions, slightly illustrated
among ourselves by the pride taken in delicate hands, as in
dicating freedom from manual labor, is exhibited in
marked forms in some societies that are comparatively little
advanced. " The chiefs in the Society Islands value them
selves on having long nails on all, or on some, of their fin
gers." " Fijian kings and priests wear the finger nails
long," says Jackson; and in Sumatra, " persons of superior
rank encourage the growth of their hand-nails, particular
ly those of the fore and little fingers, to an extraordinary
length." Everyone knows that a like usage has a like ori
gin in China; where, however, long nails have partially
lost their meaning: upper servants being allowed to wear
them. But of personal defects similarly originating, China
furnishes a far more striking instance in the cramped feet of
ladies. Obviously these have become signs of class-dis
tinction, because of the implied inability to labour, and
the implied possession of means sufficient to purchase at
tendance. Then, again, as marking rank because
implying riches, we have undue, and sometimes excessive,
fatness; either of the superior person himself or of his be
longings. The beginnings of this may be traced in quite
early stages ; as among some uncivilized American peoples.
" An Indian is respectable in his own community, in propor
tion as his wife and children look fat and well fed : this be
ing a proof of his prowess and success as a hunter, and his
consequent riches." From this case, in which the relation
between implied wealth and implied power is directly rec
ognized, we pass in the course of social development to cases
in which, instead of the normal fatness indicating suffi
ciency, there comes the abnormal fatness indicating super
fluity, and, consequently, greater wealth. In China, great
fatness is a source of pride in a mandarin. Ellis tells us
208 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
that corpulence is a mark of distinction among Tahitian
females. Throughout Africa there prevails an admiration
for corpulence in women, which, in some places, rises to a
great pitch ; as in Karague where the king has " very fat
wives "• —where, according to Speke, the king's sister-in-law
" was another of those wonders of obesity, unable to stand
excepting on all fours/7 and where, " as fattening is the
first duty of fashionable female life, it must be duly en
forced by the rod if necessary. " Still stranger
are the marks of dignity constituted by diseases resulting
from those excessive gratifications of appetite which wealth
makes possible. Even among ourselves may be traced an
association of ideas which thus originates. The story about
a gentleman of the old school, who, hearing that some man
of inferior extraction was suffering from gout, exclaimed—
"Damn the fellow; wasn't rheumatism good enough for
him," illustrates the still-current idea that gout is a gentle
manly disease, because it results from that high living which
presupposes the abundant means usually associated with su
perior position. Introduced by this instance, the instance
which comes to us from Polynesia will seem not unnatural.
" The habitual use of ava causes a whitish scurf on the skin,
which among the heathen Tahitians was reckoned a badge
of nobility; the common people not having the means of
indulgence requisite to produce it." But of all marks of
dignity arising in this way, or indeed in any way, the
strangest is one which Ximenez tells us of as existing
among the people of ancient Guatemala. The sign of a
disorder, here best left unspecified, which the nobles were
liable to, because of habits which wealth made possible,
had become among the Guatemalans a sign " of great
ness and majesty; " and its name was applied even to the
deity !
§ 1-22. How these further class-distinctions, though not,
like preceding ones, directly traceable to militancy, are in-
FURTHER CLASS-DISTINCTIONS. 209
directly traceable to it, and how they fade as industrialism
develops, need not be shown at length.
Foregoing instances make it clear that they are still
maintained rigorously in societies characterized by that type
of organization which continuous war establishes; and that
they prevailed to considerable degrees during the past war
like times of more civilized societies. Conversely, they
show that as, along with the rise of a wealth which does
not imply rank, luxuries and costly modes of life have
spread to those who do not form part of the regulative or
ganization; the growth of industrialism tends to abolish
these marks of class-distinction which militancy originates.
Xo matter what form they take, all these supplementary
rules debarring the inferior from usages and appliances
characterizing the superior, belong to a social regime based
on coercive co-operation; while that unchecked liberty
which, among ourselves, the classes regulated have to imi
tate the regulating classes in habits and expenditure, be
longs to the regime of voluntary co-operation.
CHAPTEE XL
FASHION.
§ 423. To say nothing about Fashion under the general
head of Ceremonial Institution would be to leave a gap;
and yet Fashion is difficult to deal with in a systematic man
ner. Throughout the several forms of social control thus
far treated, we have found certain pervading characters
traceable to common origins; and the conclusions reached
have hence been definite. But those miscellaneous and
ever-changing regulations of conduct which the name Fash
ion covers, are not similarly interpretable ; nor does any
single interpretation suffice for them all.
In the Mutilations, the Presents, the Visits, the Obei
sances, the Forms of Address, the Titles, the Badges and
Costumes, &c. we see enforced, not likeness between the
acts of higher and lower, but unlikeness: that which the
ruler does the ruled must not do ; and that which the ruled
is commanded to do is that which is avoided by the ruler.
But in those modifications of behaviour, dress, mode of
life, &c., which constitute Fashion, likeness instead of un
likeness is insisted upon. Respect must be shown by follow
ing the example of those in authority, not by differing from
them. How does there arise this contrariety?
The explanation appears to be this. Fashion is intrinsi
cally imitative. Imitation may result from two widely
divergent motives. It may be prompted by reverence for
one imitated, or it may be prompted by the desire to assert
210
FASHION. 211
equality with him. Between the imitations prompted by
these unlike motives, no clear distinction can be drawn;
and hence results the possibility of a transition from those
reverential imitations going along with much subordina
tion, to those competitive imitations characterizing a state of
comparative independence.
Setting out with this idea as our clue, let us observe how
the reverential imitations are initiated, and how there be
gins the transition from them to the competitive imitations.
§ 424. Given a society characterized by servile submis
sion, and in what cases will a superior be propitiated by the
imitations of an inferior? In respect of what traits will as
sumption of equality with him be complimentary? Only
in respect of his defects.
From the usages of those tyrannically-ceremonious sav
ages the Fijians, may be given an instance well illustrating
the motive and the result.
" A chief was one day going over a mountain- path, followed by a
long string of his people, when he happened to stumble and fall; all
the rest of the people immediately did the same, except one man, who
was instantly set upon by the rest, to know whether he considered
himself better than his chief."
And Williams, describing his attempt to cross a slip
pery bridge formed of a single cocoa-nut stem, writes:—
"Just as I commenced the experiment, a heathen said, with much
animation, ' To-day, 1 shall have a musket ! ' . . . When I asked him
why he spoke of a musket, the man replied, ' I felt certain that you
would fall in attempting to go over, and I should have fallen after
you; ' [that is, it appeared to be equally clumsy;] 'and as the bridge
is high, the water rapid, and you a gentleman, you would not have
thought of giving me less than a musket.' "
Even more startling is a kindred practice in Africa,
among the people of Darfur. " If the Sultan, being on
horseback, happens to fall off, all his followers must fall off
likewise; and should anyone omit this formality, however
great he may be, he is laid down and beaten."
212 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
Such examples of endeavours to please a ruler by avoid
ing any appearance of superiority to him, seem less incredi
ble than they would else seem, on finding that among Euro
pean peoples there have occurred, if not like examples, still,
analogous examples. In 1461 Duke Philip of Burgundy
having had his hair cut during an illness, " issued an edict
that all the nobles of his state should be shorn also. More
than five hundred persons . . . sacrificed their hair."
From this instance, in which the ruler insisted on having
his defect imitated by the ruled against their wills (for
many disobeyed), we may pass to a later instance in which a
kindred imitation was voluntary. In France, in 1665, after
the operation on LeAvis XIV for fistula, the royal infirmity
became the fashion among the courtiers.
u Some who had previously taken care to conceal it were now not
ashamed to let it be known. There were even courtiers who chose to
be .operated on in Versailles, because the king was then informed of
all the circumstances of the malady. ... I have seen more than
thirty wishing to be operated on, and w^hose folly was so great that
they were annoyed when told that there was no occasion to do so."
And now if with cases like these we join cases in which a
modification of dress which a king adopts to hide a defect
(such as a deep neckcloth where a scrofulous neck has to be
concealed) is imitated by courtiers, and spreads down
wards; we see how from that desire to propitiate which
prompts the pretence of having a like defect, there may re
sult fashion in dress; and how from approval of imitations
of this kind may insensibly come tolerance of other imita
tions.
§ 425. Not that such a cause would produce such an
effect by itself. There is a co-operating cause which takes
advantage of the openings thus made. Competitive imita
tion, ever going as far as authority allows, turns to its own
advantage every opportunity which reverential imitation
makes.
FASHION. 213
This competitive imitation begins quite as early as the
reverential. Members of savage tribes are not unfrequent-
ly led by the desire for applause into expenditure relatively
more lavish than are the civilized. There are barbarous
peoples among whom the expected hospitalities on the occa
sion of a daughter's marriage, are so costly as to excuse
female infanticide, on the ground that the ruinous expense
which rearing the daughter would eventually entail is thus
avoided. Thomson and Angas unite in describing the ex
travagance into which the New Zealand chiefs are impelled
by fashion in giving great feasts, as often causing famines —
feasts for which chiefs begin to provide a year before : each
being expected to out-do his neighbours in prodigality.
And the motive thus coming into play early in social evolu
tion, and making equals vie with one another in display,
similarly all along prompts the lower to vie, so far as they
are allowed, with the higher. Everywhere and always the
tendency of the inferior to assert himself has been in an
tagonism with the restraints imposed on him ; and a preva
lent way of asserting himself has been to adopt costumes
and appliances and customs like those of his superior.
Habitually there have been a few of subordinate rank who,
for one reason or other, have been allowed to encroach by
imitating the ranks above; and habitually the tendency
has been to multiply the precedents for imitation, and so to
establish for wider classes the freedom to live and dress in
ways like those of the narrower classes.
Especially has this happened as fast as rank and wealth
have ceased to be coincident — as fast, that is, as industrial
ism has produced men rich enough to compete in style of
living with those above them in rank. Partly from the
greater means, and partly from the consequent greater
power, acquired by the upper grades of producers and dis
tributors ; and partly from the increasing importance of the
financial aid they can give to the governing classes in pub
lic and private affairs: there has been an ever-decreasing re-
72
214 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
sistance to the adoption by them of usages originally forbid
den to all but the high born. The restraints in earlier times
enacted and re-enacted by sumptuary laws, have been grad
ually relaxed ; until the imitation of superiors by inferiors,
spreading continually downwards, has ceased to be checked
by anything more than sarcasm and ridicule.
§ 426. Entangled and confused with one another as
Ceremonial and Fashion are, they have thus different ori
gins and meanings: the first being proper to the regime of
compulsory co-operation, and the last being proper to the
regime of voluntary co-operation. Clearly there is an es
sential distinction, and, indeed, an opposition in nature,
between behaviour required by subordination to the great
and behaviour resulting from imitation of the great.
It is true that the regulations of conduct here distin
guished, are ordinarily fused into one aggregate of social
regulations. It is true that certain ceremonial forms come
to be fulfilled as parts of the prevailing fashion; and that
certain elements of fashion, as for instance the order of
courses at a dinner, come to be thought of as elements of
ceremonial. And it is true that both are now enforced by
an unembodied opinion which appears to be the same for
each. But, as we have seen above, this is an illusion.
Though wrhen, in our day, a wealthy quaker, refusing to
wear the dress worn by those of like means, refuses also to
take off his hat to a superior, we commonly regard these1
nonconformities as the same in nature; wre are shown that
they are not, if we go back to the days when the salute to the
superior was insisted on under penalty, while the imitation
of the superior's dress, so far from being insisted on, was
forbidden. Two different authorities are defied by his
acts — the authority of class-rule, which once dictated sucli
obeisances; and the authority of social opinion, which
thinks nonconformities in dress imply inferior status.
So that, strange to say, Fashion, as distinguished from
FASHION. 215
Ceremony, is an accompaniment of the industrial type as
distinguished from the militant type. It needs but to ob
serve that by using silver forks at his table, the trades
man in so far asserts his equality with the squire; or still
better to observe how the servant-maid out for her holiday
competes with her mistress in displaying the last style of
bonnet; to see how the regulations of conduct grouped
under the name Fashion, imply that increasing liberty
which goes along with the substitution of peaceful activities
for warlike activities.
As now existing, Fashion is a form of social regulation
analogous to constitutional government as a form of politi
cal regulation : displaying, as it does, a compromise between
governmental coercion and individual freedom. Just as,
along with the transition from compulsory co-operation to
voluntary co-operation in public action, there has been a
growth of the representative agency serving to express the
average volition; so has there been a growth of this indefi
nite aggregate of wealthy and cultured people, whose con
sensus of habits rules the private life of society at large.
And it is observable in the one case as in the other, that this
ever-changing compromise between restraint and freedom,
tends towards increase of freedom. For while, on the aver
age, governmental control of individual action decreases,
there is a decrease in the rigidity of Fashion ; as is shown by
the greater latitude of private judgment exercised within
certain vaguely marked limits.
Imitative, then, from the beginning, first of a superior's
defects, and then, little by little, of other traits peculiar to
him, Fashion has ever tended towards equalization. Serv
ing to obscure, and eventually to obliterate, the marks of
class-distinction, it has favoured the growth of individual
ity; and by so doing has aided in weakening Ceremonial,
which implies subordination of the individual.
CHAPTEE XII.
CEREMONIAL RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT.
§ 427. We find, then, that rules of behaviour are not
results of conventions at one time or other deliberately
made, as people tacitly assume. Contrariwise, they are
natural products of social life which have gradually evolved.
Apart from detailed proofs of this, we find a general proof
in their conformity to the laws of Evolution at large.
In primitive headless groups of men, such customs as
regulate conduct form but a small aggregate. A few natu
rally prompted actions on meeting strangers; in certain
cases bodily mutilations; and in some interdicts on foods
monopolized by adult men; constitute a brief code. But
with consolidation into compound, doubly compound, and
trebly compound societies, there arise great accumulations
of ceremonial arrangements regulating all the actions of
life — there is increase in the mass of observances.
Originally simple, these observances become progres
sively complex. From the same root grow up various kinds
of obeisances. Primitive descriptive names develop into
numerous graduated titles. Erom aboriginal salutes come,
in course of time, complimentary forms of address adjusted
to persons and occasions. Weapons taken in war give origin
to symbols of authority, assuming, little by little, great
diversities in their shapes. While certain trophies, differ
entiating into badges, dresses and decorations, eventually in
each of these divisions present multitudinous varieties, no
216
CEREMONIAL RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT. 217
longer bearing any resemblance to their originals. And
besides the increasing heterogeneity which in each society
arises among products having a common origin, there is
the further heterogeneity which arises between this aggre
gate of products in one society and the allied aggregates
in other societies.
Simultaneously there is progress in defi niteness ; end
ing, as in the East, in fixed forms prescribed in all their de
tails, which must not under penalty be departed from. And
in sundry places the vast assemblages of complex and defi
nite ceremonies thus elaborated, are consolidated into coher
ent codes set forth in books.
The advance in integration, in heterogeneity, in defi-
niteness, and in coherence, is thus fully exemplified.
§ 428. When we observe the original unity exhibited
by ceremony as it exists in primitive hordes, in contrast
with the diversity which ceremony, under its forms of
political, religious, and social, assumes in developed socie
ties; we recognize another aspect of this transformation
undergone by all products of evolution.
The common origin of propitiatory forms which eventu
ally appear unallied, was in the last volume indicated by
the numerous parallelisms we found between religious cere
monies and ceremonies performed in honouring the 'dead;
and the foregoing chapters have shown that still more re
markable are the parallelisms between ceremonies of these
kinds and those performed in honouring the living. We
have seen that as a sequence of trophy-taking, parts of the
body are surrendered to rulers, offered at graves, deposited
in temples, and occasionally presented to equals; and we
have seen that mutilations hence originating, become marks
of submission to kings, to deities, to dead relatives, and in
some cases to living friends. Beginning with presents,
primarily of food, made to strangers by savages to secure
goodwill, we pass to the presents, also primarily of food,
218 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
made to chiefs; and, answering to these, we find the offer
ings, primarily of food, made to ghosts and to gods, de
veloping among ancestor-worshipping peoples into sacri
fices showing parallel elaborations; as in China, where
feasts of many dishes are placed alike before the tablets
inscribed to ancestors, apotheosized men, and great deities,
and where it is a saying that " whatever is good for food is
good for sacrifice." Visits are paid to graves out of respect
to the spirits of the departed, to temples in worship of the
deities supposed to be present in them, to the courts of
rulers in evidence of loyalty, and to private persons to show
consideration. Obeisances, originally implying subjuga
tion, are made before monarchs and superiors, are similarly
made before deities, are sundry of them repeated in honour
of the dead, and eventually become observances between
equals. Expressing now the humility of the speaker and
now the greatness of the one spoken to, forms of address,
alike in nature, are used to the visible and the invisible
ruler, and, descending to those of less power, are at length
used to ordinary persons; while titles ascribing fatherhood
and supremacy, applied at first to kings, gods, and deceased
persons, become in time names of honour used to undistin
guished persons. Symbols of authority like those carried
by monarchs, occur in the representations of deities; in
some cases the celestial and the terrestrial potentates have
like costumes and appendages; and sundry of the dresses
and badges once marking superiority of position, become
ceremonial dresses worn, especially on festive occasions,
by persons of inferior ranks. Other remarkable parallel
isms exist. One we see in the anointing, which, performed
on kings and on the images of gods, extended in Egypt to
dead persons and to guests. In Egypt, too, birthday-cere
monials were at once social, political, and religious : besides
celebrations of private birthdays and of the birthdays of
kings and queens, there were celebrations of the birthdays
of gods. Nor must we omit the sacredness of names. In
CEREMONIAL RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT. 219
many countries it is, or lias been, forbidden to utter the
name of the god; the name of the king is in other places
similarly interdicted; elsewhere it is an offence to refer by
name to a dead person; and among various savages the
name of the living person may not be taken in vain. The
feeling that the presence of one who is to be worshipped or
honoured, is a bar to the use of violence, also has its parallel
sequences. Not only is the temple of the god a sanctuary,
but in sundry places the burial-place of the chief is a sanc
tuary, and in other places the presence of the monarch,
as in Abyssinia where " it is death to strike, or lift the hand
to strike, before the king; " and then among European
peoples, the interdict on fighting in presence of a lady,
shows how this element in ceremonial rule extends into
general intercourse. Finally let me add a fuller statement
of a curious example before referred to — the use of incense
in worship of a deity, as a political honour, and as a social
observance. In Egypt there was incense-offering before
both gods and kings, as also among the Hebrews: instance
the passage from the Song of Solomon (iii., 6-7) — " Who is
this that cometh out of the wilderness like pillars of smoke,
perfumed with myrrh and frankincense. . . Behold his
bed [litter], which is Solomon's." Clavigero tells us that
" incense-offering among the Mexicans, and other nations of
Anahuac, was not only an act of religion towards their gods,
but also a piece of civil courtesy to lords and ambassadors."
During mediaeval days in Europe, incense was burnt in
compliment to rank: nobles on entering churches severally
expected so many swings of the censer in front of them,
according to their grades.
While, then, we are shown by numerous sets of paral
lelisms the common origin of observances that are now
distinguished as political, religious, and social — while we
thus find verified in detail the hypothesis that ceremonial
government precedes in time the other forms of govern
ment, into all of which it enters; we are shown how, in con-
220 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
f ormity with the general laws of Evolution, it differentiates
into three great orders at the same time that each of these
orders differentiates within itself.
§ 429. From the beaten dog which, crawling 011 its
belly licks its master's hand, we trace up the general truth
that ceremonial forms are naturally initiated by the relation
of conqueror and conquered, and the consequent truth that
they develop along with the militant type of society. "While
re-enunciated, this last truth may be conveniently presented
under a different aspect. Let us note how the connexion be
tween ceremonial and militancy, is shown at once in its rig
our, in its defiiiiteness, in its extent, and in its elaborateness.
" In Fiji, if a chief sees any of his subjects not stooping
IOAV enough in his presence, he will kill him on the spot; "
while " a vast number of fingers, missing from the hands of
men and women, have gone as the fine for disrespectful or
awkward conduct." And then of these same sanguinary
and ferociously-governed people, Williams tells us that
" not a member of a chief's body, or the commonest acts of
his life, are mentioned in ordinary phraseology, but all are
hyperbolized." Africa furnishes a kindred instance of this
connexion between ceremonial rigour and the rigour of
despotic power accompanying excessive militancy. In the
kingdom of Uganda, where, directed by the king to try a
rifle presented to him by Speke, a page went to the door
and shot the first man he saw in the distance, and where, as
Stanley tells us, under the last king, Suna, five days were
occupied in cutting up thirty thousand prisoners who had
surrendered; we find that " an officer observed to salute
informally is ordered for execution," while another who,
" perhaps, exposes an inch of naked leg whilst squatting, or
has his mbugutied contrary to regulations," " is condemned
to the same fate." And then in Asia a parallel connexion
is shown us by the more civilized Siamese, whose adult males
are all soldiers, and over whom rules omnipotently a sacred
CEREMONIAL RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT. 221
king, whose " palace must not be passed without marks of
reverence " duly prescribed, and " severe punishments fol
low any inattention to these requirements/' and where, in
social intercourse, " mistakes in these kinds of duties [obei
sances] may be punished with the Mton by him against
whom they have been committed."
Along with this rigour of ceremonial rule we find great
definiteness. In Fiji there are " various forms of saluta
tion, according to the rank of the parties ; and great attention
is paid to insure that the salutation shall have the proper
form: " such precision naturally arising where loss of life or
fingers follows breach of observance. A kindred precision
is similarly caused in the tyrannically-governed African
kingdoms, such as Loango, where a king killed his own son,
and had him quartered, because the son happened to see
his father drink; or such as Ashantee, where there is much
" punctilious courtesy, and a laboured and ceremonious
formality." And this definiteness characterizes observ
ances under the despotisms of the remote East. Of the
Siamese La Loubere says — " In the same ceremonies they
always say almost the same things. The king of Siam him
self has his words almost told [ contees] in his audiences of
ceremony." So, too, in China, in the imperial hall of audi
ence "stones are inlaid with plates of brass, on which are en
graved in Chinese characters the quality of the persons who
are to stand or kneel upon them; " and as Hue says, " it is
easier to be polite in China than elsewhere, as politeness is
subject to more fixed regulations." Japan, also, shows us
this precise adjustment of the observance to the occasion: —
" The marks of respect to superiors . . . are graduated
from a trifling acknowledgment to the most absolute pros
tration." " This state of things is supported by law as well
as custom, and more particularly by the permission given to
a two-sworded man, in case of him feeling himself insulted,
to take the law into his own hands." Nor does Europe in its
most militant country, autocratically ruled, fail to yield an
222 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
illustration. Custine says of Russia that, at the marriage
of the Grand Duchess Maria with the Duke of Leuchten-
berg (1839) the Emperor Nicholas " was continually leav
ing his prayers, and slipping from one side to the other, in
order to remedy the omissions of etiquette among his chil
dren, or the clergy. . . . All the great functionaries of the
Court seemed to be governed by his minute but supreme
directions."
In respect of the range and elaborateness of ceremonial
rule, assimilating the control of civil life to the control of
military life, Oriental despotisms yield equally striking ex
amples. La Loubere says: — " If there are several Siamese
together, and another joins them, it often happens that the
postures of all change. They know before whom and to
what extent they should bend or remain erect or seated;
whether they should join their hands or not and hold them
low or high; whether being seated they may advance one
foot or both, or should keep both hidden." Even the mon
arch is under kindred restraints. " The Phra raxa mon-
thierdban [apparently, sacred book] lays down the laws
which the Sovereign is bound to obey, prescribes the hours
for rising and for bathing, the manner of offering and the
alms to be offered, to the bonzes, the hours of audience for
nobles and for princes, the time to be devoted to public af
fairs and to study, the hours for repasts, and when audiences
shall be allowed to the Queen and the ladies of the palace."
Again, in the account of his embassy to Ava, Syme writes:
— " The subordination of rank is maintained and marked
by the Birmans with the most tenacious strictness; and not
only houses, but even domestic implements, such as the bet-
tie box, water flagon, drinking cup, and horse furniture,
all express and manifest, by shape and quality, the precise
station of the owner." In China, too, the Li ki, or Book of
Rites, gives directions for all actions of life ; and a passage
in Hue shows at once the antiquity of their vast, coherent,
elaborate system of observances, and the reverence with
CEREMONIAL RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT. 223
which its prescriptions were regarded : — " ' Under the first
dynasties/ says a famous Chinese moralist, e the government
had perfect unity, the ceremonies and music embraced the
whole empire.' ' Once more, in Japan, especially in past
times, ceremony was elaborated in books so far that every
transaction, down to an execution, had its various move
ments prescribed with a scarcely credible minuteness.
That these connexions are necessary, we cannot fail to
see on remembering how, with the compoundings and re-
compoundings of social groups effected by militancy, there
must go an evolution of the forms of subordination; made
strong by the needs for restraint, made multitudinous by the
gradations of rank, made precise by continual performance
under penalty.
§ 430. The moral traits which accompany respectively
the development of ceremonial rule and the decay of cere
monial rule, may with advantage be named while not-
ing how observances weaken as fast as industrialism
strengthens.
We have seen that ceremony originates from fear : on
the one side supremacy of a victor or master; on the other
side dread of death or punishment felt by the vanquished or
the slave. And under the regime of compulsory co-opera
tion thus initiated, fear develops and maintains in strength
all forms of propitiation. But with the rise of a social type
based on voluntary co-operation, fear decreases. The sub
ordinate ruler or officer is no longer wholly at the mercy of
his superior; the trader, not liable to be robbed or tortured
by the noble, has a remedy against him for non-payment;
the labourer in receipt of wages, cannot be beaten like the
slave. In proportion as the system of exchanging services
under contract spreads, and the rendering of services under
compulsion diminishes, men dread one another less; and,
consequently, become less scrupulous in fulfilling propitia
tory forms.
224 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
War of necessity cultivates deception : ambush, ma
noeuvring, feints, and the like, involve acted lies; and skil
ful lying by actions is regarded as a trait of military genius.
The slavery which successful war establishes, implies daily
practice in duplicity. Against the anger of his cruel master
a successful falsehood is the slave's defence. Under tyrants
unscrupulous in their exactions, skilful lying is a means of
salvation, and is a source of pride. And all the ceremonies
which accompany the regime of compulsory co-operation
are pervaded by insincerity : the fulsome laudations are not
believed by the utterer; he feels none of that love for his
superior which he professes; nor is he anxious for his wel
fare as his words assert. But in proportion as compul
sory co-operation is replaced by voluntary co-operation, the
temptations to deceive that penalties may be escaped, be
come less strong and perpetual; and simultaneously, truth
fulness is fostered, since voluntary co-operation can increase
only as fast as mutual trust increases. Though throughout
the activities of industry there yet survives much of the
militant untruthf ulness ; yet, on remembering that only by
daily fulfilment of contracts can these activities go on, we
see that in the main the things promised are performed.
And along with the spreading truthfulness thus implied,
there goes on an increasing dislike of the more extreme un
truthf ulness implied in the forms of propitiation. Neither
in word nor in act do the professed feelings so greatly ex
ceed the real feelings.
It scarcely needs saying that as social co-operation be
comes less coercive and more voluntary, independence in
creases; for the two statements are different aspects of
the same. Forced service implies dependence; while ser
vice rendered under agreement implies independence.
Naturally, the different moral attitudes involved, express
ing themselves in different political types, as relatively des
potic and relatively free, express themselves also in the ac
companying kinds of ceremonial rule that are tolerated or
CEREMONIAL RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT. 225
liked. In the one case, badges of subjection are thought
honourable and pleasure is taken in acts of homage; in the
other case, liveries come to be hated and there is reluctance
to use reverential forms approaching the obsequious. The
love of independence joins the love of truthfulness in gener
ating a repugnance to obeisances and phrases which express
subordination where none is internally acknowledged.
The discipline of war, being a discipline in destruction
of life, is a discipline in callousness. Whatever sympathies
exist are seared ; and any that tend to grow up are checked.
This unsympathetic attitude which war necessitates, is main
tained by- the coercive social co-operation which it initiates
and evolves. The subordination of slave by master, main
tained by use of whatever force is needful to secure services
however unwilling, implies repression of fellow-feeling.
This repression of fellow-feeling is also implied by insisting
on forms of homage. To delight in receiving cringing obei
sances shows lack of sympathy with another's dignity ; and
with the development of a freer social type and accompany
ing increase of sympathy, there grows up on the part of su
periors a dislike to these extreme manifestations of subjec
tion coming from inferiors. " Put your bonnet to its right
use," says Hamlet to Osric, standing bareheaded: showing
us that in Shakespeare's day, there had arisen the fellow-
feeling which produced displeasure on seeing another hum
ble himself too much. And this feeling, increasing as the
industrial type evolves, makes more repugnant all cere
monial forms which overtly express .subordination.
Once more, originating in societies which have the glory
of victory in war as a dominant sentiment, developed cere
mony belongs to a social state in which love of applause is
the ruling social motive. But as fast as industrialism re
places militancy, the sway of this ego-altruistic sentiment
becomes qualified by the growing altruistic sentiment; and
with an increasing respect for others' claims, there goes a
decreasing eagerness for distinctions which by implication
226 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
subordinate them. Sounding titles, adulatory forms of
address, humble obeisances, gorgeous costumes, badges,
privileges of precedence, and the like, severally minister to
the desire to be regarded with actual or simulated admira
tion. But as fast as the wish to be exalted at the cost of
humiliation to others, is checked by sympathy, the appetite
for marks of honour, becoming less keen, is satisfied with,
and even prefers, more subdued indications of respect.
So that in various ways the moral character natural to
the militant type of society, fosters ceremony; while the
moral character natural to the industrial type is unfavour
able to it.
§ 431. Before stating definitely the conclusions, already
foreshadowed, that are to be drawn respecting the future
of ceremony, we have to note that its restraints not only
form a part of the coercive regime proper to those lower so
cial types characterized by predominant militancy, but also
that they form part of a discipline by which men are adapt
ed to a higher social life.
While the antagonistic or anti-social emotions in men,
have that predominance which is inevitable while war is
habitual, there must be tendencies, great and frequent, to
words and acts generating enmity and endangering social
coherence. Hence the need for prescribed forms of behav
iour which, duly observed, diminish the risk of quarrels.
Hence the need for a ceremonial rule rigorous in proportion
as the nature is selfish and explosive.
Not a priori only, but d posteriori, it is inferable that
established observances have the function of educating, in
respect of its minor actions, the anti-social nature into a
form fitted for social life. Of the Japanese, living for these
many centuries under an unmitigated despotism, castes se
verely restricted, sanguinary laws, and a ceremonial system
rigorous and elaborate, there has arisen a character which,
while described by Mr. Rundell as " haughty, vindictive,
CEREMONIAL RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT. 227
and licentious/ ' yet prompts a behaviour admirable in its
suavity. Mr. Cornwallis asserts that amiability and an un
ruffled temper are the universal properties of the women
in Japan ; and by Mr. Drummond they are credited with a
natural grace which it is impossible to describe. Among
the men, too, the sentiment of honour, based upon that re
gard for reputation to which ceremonial observance largely
appeals, carries them to great extremes of consideration.
Another verifying fact is furnished by another despotical
ly-governed and highly ceremonious society, Russia. Cus-
tine says — " If fear renders the men serious, it also renders
them extremely polite. I have never elsewhere seen so
many men of all classes treating each other with such re
spect." Kindred, if less pronounced, examples of this con
nexion are to be found in Western countries. The Italian,
long subject to tyrannical rule, and in danger of his life if
he excites the vengeful feelings of a fellow-citizen, is distin
guished by his conciliatory manner. In Spain, where gov
ernmental dictation is unlimited, where women are harshly
treated, and where " no labourer ever wralks outside his door
without his knife," there is extreme politeness. Contrari
wise our own people, long living under institutions which
guard them against serious consequences from giving
offence, greatly lack suavity, and show a comparative in
attention to minor civilities.
Both deductively and inductively, then, we see that
ceremonial government is one of the agencies by which so
cial co-operation is facilitated among those, whose natures
are in large measure anti-social.
§ 432. And this brings us to the general truth that
within each embodied set of restraining agencies— the cere
monial as well as the political and ecclesiastical which grow
out of it — there gradually evolves, a special kind of disem
bodied control, which eventually becomes independent.
Political government, having for its original end subor-
228 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
dination; and inflicting penalties on men who injure others
not because of the intrinsic badness of their acts but because
their acts break the ruler's commands; has ever been ha
bituating men to obey regulations conducive to social order;
until there has grown up a consciousness that these regu
lations have not simply an extrinsic authority derived from
a ruler's will, but have an intrinsic authority derived from
their utility. The once arbitrary, fitful, and often irra
tional, dictates of a king, grow into an established system of
laws, which formulate the needful limitations to men's ac
tions arising from one another's claims. And these limita
tions men more and more recognize and conform to, not only
without thinking of the monarch's injunctions, but without
thinking of the injunctions set forth in Acts of Parlia
ment. Simultaneously, out of the supposed wishes
of the ancestral ghost, which now and again developing
into the traditional commands of some expanded ghost of a
great man, become divine injunctions, arises the set of re
quirements classed as religious. Within these, at first al
most exclusively concerning acts expressing submission to
the celestial king, there evolve the rules we distinguish as
moral. As society advances, these moral rules become of a
kind formulating the conduct requisite for personal, domes
tic, and social wellbeing. For a long time imperfectly dif
ferentiated from the essential political rules, and to the last
enforcing their authority, these moral rules, originally re
garded as sacred only because of their supposed divine ori
gin, eventually acquire a sacredness derived from their
observed utility in controlling certain parts of human con
duct — parts not controlled, or little controlled, by civil law.
Ideas of moral duty develop and consolidate into a moral
code, which eventually becomes independent of its theologi
cal root. In the meantime, from within that part of
ceremonial rule which has evolved into a system of regula
tions for social intercourse, there grows a third class of re
straints; and these, in like manner, become at length inde-
CEREMONIAL RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT. 229*
pendent. From observances which, in their primitive
forms, express partly subordination to a superior and partly
attachment to him, and which, spreading downwards, be
come general forms of behaviour, there finally come observ
ances expressing a proper regard for the individualities of
other persons, and a true sympathy in their welfare. Cere
monies which originally have no other end than to propiti
ate a dominant person, pass, some of them, into rules of po
liteness; and these gather an authority distinct from that
which they originally had. Apt evidence is furnished by
the " Ritual Remembrancer " of the Chinese, which gives
directions for all the actions of life. Its regulations " are in
terspersed with truly excellent observations regarding mu
tual forbearance and kindness in society, which is regarded
as the "true principle of etiquette." The higher the social
evolution, the more does this inner element of ceremonial
rule grow, while the outer formal element dwindles. As
fast as the principles of natural politeness, seen to originate
in sympathy, distinguish themselves from the code of cere
monial within which they originate, they replace its author
ity by a higher authority, and go on dropping its non-essen
tials while developing further its essentials.
So that as law differentiates from personal commands,
and as morality differentiates from religious injunctions, so
politeness differentiates from ceremonial observance. To
which I may add, so does rational usage differentiate from
fashion.
§ 433. Thus guided by retrospect we cannot doubt
about the prospect. With further development of the so
cial type based on voluntary co-operation, will come a still
greater disuse of obeisances, of complimentary forms of ad
dress, of titles, of badges, &c., &c. The feelings alike of
those by whom, and those to whom, acts expressing subor
dination are performed, will become more and more averse
to them.
73
230* CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
Of course the change will be, and should be, gradual.
Just as, if political freedom is gained faster than men be
come adequately self-controlled, there results social dis
order — just as abolition of religious restraints while yet
moral restraints have not grown strong enough, entails
increase of misconduct ; so, if the observances regulating so
cial intercourse lose their sway faster than the feelings
which prompt true politeness develop, there inevitably fol
lows more or less rudeness in behaviour and consequent
liability to discord. It needs but to name certain of our
lower classes, such as colliers and brickmakers, whose rela
tions to masters and others are such as to leave them scarcely
at all restrained, to see that considerable evils arise from a
premature decay of ceremonial rule.
The normal advance toward that highest state in which
the minor acts of men towards one another, like their major
acts, are so controlled by internal restraints as to make ex
ternal restraints needless, implies increasing fulfilment of
two conditions. Both higher emotions and higher intelli
gence are required. There must be a stronger fellow feel
ing with all around, and there must be an intelligence devel
oped to the extent needful for instantly seeing how all words
and acts will tell upon their states of mind — an intelligence
which, by each expression of face and cadence of speech, is
informed what is the passing state of emotion, and how
emotion has been affected by actions just committed.
ADDENDA. 231*
ADDENDA.
MUTILATIONS. — In Chap. III., and in the appended note, I have
assigned grounds for the conclusion that (beyond some which arise
from the simulation of battle-wounds) the skin-marks made on sav
ages, from the scars of great gashes down to tatoo-lines, originate in
the wide-spread practice of letting blood for the dead at a funeral :
naming, in all, there and elsewhere, fourteen illustrations. I add
here an instructive one given by Beckwourth, " who for many years
lived among " the Crows. Describing the ceremonies at a head chief's
death, he writes: —
" Blood was streaming from every conceivable part of tlie bodies of all who
were old enough to comprehend their loss. Hundreds of fingers were dismem
bered ; hair torn from the head lay in profusion about the paths ; wails and
moans in every direction assailed the ear. . . . Long Hair cut off a large roll
of his hair, a thing he was never known to do before. The cutting and hack
ing of human flesh exceeded all my previous experience ; fingers were dismem
bered as readily as twigs, and blood was poured out like water. Many of the
warriors would cut two gashes nearly the entire length of their arm ; then,
separating the skin from the flesh at one end, would grasp it in their other
hand and rip it asunder to the shoulder. Others would carve various devices
upon their breasts and shoulders, and raise the skin in the same manner to
make the scars show to advantage after the wound was healed." — H. C. Yar
row's Introduction to the Study of Mortuary Customs among the North Ameri
can Indians, pp. 90—91.
Here, besides seeing that offerings of blood are accompanied by
offerings of fingers and of hair, with which I have associated them
(all of them acts of propitiation which leave marks that become signs
of allegiance and subordination), we get clear evidence of the transi
tion to decorative marks. Some of the mourners "would carve vari
ous devices upon their breasts and shoulders," and raise the skin "to
make the scars show to advantage." Dr. Tylor, who, describing my
method as being that of deducing all men's customs " from laws of
nature," alleges that my inferences are vitiated by it, contends that the
skin-marks are all record-marks, when not deliberately decorative.
Whether the inductive basis for this conclusion is wider than that for
the conclusion drawn by me, and whether the superiority of Dr.
Tylor's method is thereby shown, may be judged by the reader who
refers to his essay.
PRESENTS. — In § 376, sundry facts were named which pointed to
the conclusion that barter does not begin consciously as such, but is
initiated by the exchange of presents, which usage more and more re
quires to be of equal values. My attention has since been drawn to a
verifying instance in the Iliad ; where, in token of friendship, an ex
change of arms is made between Glaucus and Diomedes : —
" Howbeit Zeus then bereaved Glaucus of his wits, in that he exchanged
with Diomedes, the son of Tydeus, golden arms for bronze, a hundred oxen's
worth for nine."
Homer's obvious notion being that there should be likeness of worth
in the presents mutually made ; and the implication being that this
232* CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
requirement was commonly observed. Of course, if a propitiatory
gift, at first offered without expectation of a return, came eventually
to be offered with expectation of an equivalent return, bargaining and
barter would inevitably arise.
A clear illustration furnished by a primitive people still extant oc
curs in the account of the Andamanese given by Mr. E. II. Man in
the Journal of the Anthropological Institute, vol. xi. pp. 285-6. Say
ing of this people that "it is customary for each family to supply
itself with the chief necessaries in the shape of weapons and food,"
Mr. Man tells us that —
" They set no fixed value on their various properties, and rarely make or pro
cure anything for the express purpose of bartering with it. ... These trans
actions [exchanges] they are pleased to consider as presentations ; but it is
tacitly understood that no present is to be accepted unless an equivalent is
rendered, and, as the opinions of donor and recipient are liable to differ as to
the respective value of the articles in question, a quarrel is not unfrequently
the result."
These facts, joined with the facts given in Chapter iv., go far to
prove that savages (who invent nothing, but even in the making of
implements develop this or that kind by unobtrusive modifications),
were led unawares, and not aforethought, into the practice of barter.
That in the course of social evolution, presents precede fixed sal
aries, illustrated in § 375 by the fact, among others, that in the East
the attendants of a man of power are supported chiefly by propitiatory
gifts from those who come to get favours from him, is further illus
trated by the fact that the great man himself similarly remunerates
them if need be.
" Should he desire to retain any of them whose income does not prove suffi
cient, he himself makes presents to them, or favours them in their business
by means of his influence, but never pays them wages." — Van Lennep, Bible
Lands and Customs, ii. 592.
Which last fact, joined with the others before named of like kind, im
ply that exchange of services for payments, did not begin as such :
services being at first given from fear, or loyalty, or the desire for
protection ; and any return made for these services, beyond the pro
tection, not being consciously regarded as equivalent payment, but
as a mark of approval or good will. The fact that the exchange of
service for fixed payment developed out of this practice, harmonizes
with, and confirms, the conclusion that the exchange of commodities
had an analogous origin.
PART V.
POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
CHAPTER I.
PEELIMINAEY.
§ 434. Thought and feeling cannot be completely die-,
sociated. Each emotion has a more or less distinct frame
work of ideas; and each group of ideas is more or less suffused
with emotion. There are, however, great differences between
their degrees of combination under both of these aspects.
AVe have some feelings which are vague from lack of intel
lectual definition ; and others to which clear shapes are given
by the associated conceptions. At one time our thoughts
are distorted by the passion running through them ; and at
another time it is difficult to detect in them a trace of liking
or disliking. Manifestly, too, in each particular case these
components of the mental state may be varied in their pro
portions. The ideas being the same, the emotion joined with
them may be greater or less ; and it is a familiar truth that
the correctness of the judgment formed, depends, if not on
the absence of emotion, still, on that balance of emotions
which negatives excess of any one.
Especially is this so in matters concerning human life.
There are two ways in which men's actions, individual or
social, may be regarded. We may consider them as groups
of phenomena to be analyzed, and the laws of their depen
dence ascertained ; or, considering them as causing pleasures
or pains, we may associate with them approbation or repro
bation. Dealing with its problems intellectually, we may
230 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
regard conduct as always the result of certain forces ; or,
dealing with its problems morally, and recognizing its out
come as in this case good and in that case bad, we may
allow now admiration and now indignation to fill our con
sciousness. Obviously, it must make a great difference in
our conclusions whether, as in the one case, we study men's
doings as those of alien creatures, which it merely concerns
us to understand ; or whether, as in the other case, we con
template them as the doings of creatures like ourselves, with
whose lives our own lives are bound up, and whose behaviour
arouses in us, directly and sympathetically, feelings of love
or hate.
In an ancillary work, TJie Study of Sociology, I have de
scribed the various perversions produced in men's judgments
by their emotions. Examples are given showing how fears
and hopes betray them into false estimates ; how impatience
prompts unjust condemnations ; how in this case antipathy,
and in that case sympathy, distorts belief. The truth that
the bias of education and the bias of patriotism severally
warp men's convictions, is enforced by many illustrations.
And it is pointed out that the more special forms of bias —
the class bias, the political bias, the theological bias— each
originates a predisposition towards this or that view of public
affairs.
Here let me emphasize the conclusion that in pursuing
our sociological inquiries, and especially those on which we
are now entering, we must, as much as possible, exclude
whatever emotions the facts are calculated to excite, and
attend solely to the interpretation of the facts. There are
several groups of phenomena in contemplating which either
contempt, or disgust, or indignation, tends to arise but must
be restrained.
§ 435. Instead of passing over as of no account, or else
regarding as purely mischievous, the superstitions of the
primitive man, we must inquire what part they play in
PRELIMINARY. 231
social evolution ; and must be prepared, if need be, to re
cognize their usefulness. Already we bave seen that the
belief which prompts the savage to bury valuables with the
corpse and carry food to the grave, has a natural genesis ;
that the propitiation of plants and animals, and the " worship
of stocks and stones," are not gratuitous absurdities ; and
that slaves are sacrificed at funerals in pursuance of an idea
which seems rational to uninstructed intelligence. Pre
sently we shall have to consider in what way the ghost-
theory has operated politically ; and if we should find reason
to conclude that it has been an indispensable aid to political
progress, we must be ready to accept the conclusion.
Knowledge of the miseries which have for countless ages
been everywhere caused by the antagonisms of societies, must
not prevent us from recognizing the all-important part these
antagonisms have played in civilization. Shudder as we
must at the cannibalism which all over the world in early
days was a sequence of war — shrink as we may from the
thought of those immolations of prisoners which have, tens
of thousands of times, followed battles between wild tribes —
read as we do with horror of the pyramids of heads and the
whitening bones of slain peoples left by barbarian invaders —
hate, as we ought, the militant spirit which is even now
among ourselves prompting base treacheries and brutal ag
gressions ; we must not let our feelings blind us to the
proofs that inter-social conflicts have furthered the develop
ment of social structures.
Moreover, dislikes to governments of certain kinds must
not prevent us from seeing their fitnesses to their circum
stances. Though, rejecting the common idea of glory, and
declining to join soldiers and school-boys in applying the
epithet " great " to conquering despots, we detest despotism —
though we regard their sacrifices of their own peoples and of
alien peoples in pursuit of universal dominion as gigantic
crimes; we must yet recognize the benefits occasionally
arising from the consolidations they achieve. Neither the
POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
massacres of subjects which Eoman emperors directed, nor
the assassinations of relatives common among potentates
in the East, nor the impoverishment of whole nations by the
exactions of tyrants, must so revolt us as to prevent appre
ciation of the benefits which have, under certain conditions,
resulted from the unlimited power of the supreme man. Nor
must the remembrances of torturing implements, and oub
liettes, and victims built into walls, shut out from our minds
the evidence that abject submission of the weak to the
strong, however unscrupulously enforced, has in some times
and places been necessary.
So, too, with the associated ownership of man by man.
Absolute condemnation of slavery must be withheld, even if
we accept the tradition repeated by Herodotus, that to build
the Great Pyramid relays of a hundred thousand slaves toiled
for twenty years ; or even if we find it true that of the serfs
compelled to work at the building of St. Petersburg, three
hundred thousand perished. Though aware that the un
recorded sufferings of men and women held in bondage are
beyond imagination, we must be willing to receive such
evidence as there may be that benefits have resulted.
In brief, trustworthy interpretations of social arrangements
imply an almost passionless consciousness. Though feeling
cannot and ought not to be excluded from the mind when
otherwise contemplating them, yet it ought to be excluded
when contemplating them as natural phenomena to be under
stood in their causes and effects.
§ 436. Maintenance of this mental attitude will be furthered
by keeping before ourselves the truth that in human actions
the absolutely bad may be relatively good, and the absolutely
good may be relatively bad.
Though it has become a common-place that the institutions
under which one race prospers will not answer for another,
the recognition of this truth is by no means adequate. Men
svho have lost faith in "paper constitutions/' nevertheless
PRELIMINAEY. 233
advocate such conduct towards inferior races, as implies the
belief that civilized social forms can with advantage be im
posed on uncivilized peoples ; that the arrangements which
seem, to us vicious are vicious for them ; and that they would
benefit by institutions — domestic, industrial, or political —
nkin to those which we find beneficial. But acceptance of
the truth that the type of a society is determined by the
natures of its units, forces on us the corollary that a regime
intrinsically of the lowest, may yet be the best possible under
primitive conditions.
Otherwise stating the matter, we must not substitute our
developed code of conduct, which predominantly concerns
private relations, for the undeveloped code of conduct, which
predominantly concerns public relations. Now that life is
generally occupied in peaceful intercourse with fellow-citizens,
ethical ideas refer chiefly to actions between man and man ;
but in early stages, while the occupation of life was mainly
in conflicts with adjacent societies, such ethical ideas as
existed referred almost wholly to inter-social actions : men's
deeds were judged by their direct bearings on tribal welfare.
And since preservation of the society takes precedence of
individual preservation, as being a condition to it, we must,
in considering social phenomena, interpret good and bad
rather in their earlier senses than in their later senses ; and
so must regard as relatively good, that which furthers sur
vival of the society, great as may be the suffering inflicted on
its members.
§ 437. Another of our ordinary conceptions has to be much
widened before we can rightly interpret political evolution.
The words " civilized " and " savage " must have given to
them meanings differing greatly from those which are current.
That broad contrast usually drawn wholly to the advantage
of the men who form large nations, and to the disadvantage
of the men who form simple groups, a better knowledge
obliges us profoundly to qualify. Characters are to be found
234 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
among rude peoples which compare well with those of the
best among cultivated peoples. With little knowledge and
but rudimentary arts, there in some cases go virtues which
might shame those among ourselves whose education and
polish are of the highest.
Surviving remnants of some primitive races in India, have
natures in which truthfulness seems to be organic. Not only
to the surrounding Hindoos, higher intellectually and rela
tively advanced in culture, are they in this respect far superior;
but they are superior to Europeans. Of certain of these Hill
peoples it is remarked that their assertions may always be
accepted with perfect confidence ; which is more than can be
said of manufacturers who use false trade-marks, or of diplo
matists who intentionally delude. As having this trait may
be named the Santals, of whom. Hunter says, " they were the
most truthful set of men I ever met;" and, again, the Sowrahs,
of whom Shortt says, " a pleasing feature in their character
is their complete truthfulness. They do not know how to
tell a lie." Notwithstanding their sexual relations of a
primitive and low type, even the Todas are described as con
sidering " falsehood one of the worst of vices." Though Metz
says that they practise dissimulation towards Europeans, yet
he recognizes this as a trait consequent on their intercourse
with Europeans ; and this judgment coincides with one given
to me by an Indian civil servant concerning other Hill tribes,
originally distinguished by their veracity, but who are
rendered less veracious by contact with the whites. So rare
is lying among these aboriginal races when unvitiated by the
" civilized," that, of those in Bengal, Hunter singles out the
Tipperahs as " the only hill-tribe in which this vice is met
with."
Similaily in respect of honesty, some of these peoples
classed as inferior read lessons to those classed as superior.
Of the Todas just named, ignorant and degraded as they are
in some respects, Harkness says, "I never saw a people,
civilized or uncivilized, who seemed to have a more religious
PRELIMINARY. 235
respect for the rights of meum and tuum" The Marias
(Gonds), " in common with many other wild races, bear a
singular character for truthfulness and honesty." Among the
Khonds " the denial of a debt is a breach of this principle,
which is held to be highly sinful. ' Let a man/ say they,
' give up all he has to his creditors.' " The Santal prefers to
have " no dealings with his guests ; but when his guests
introduce the subject he deals with them as honestly as he
would with his own people : " " he names the true price at
first." The Lepchas "are wonderfully honest, theft being
scarcely known among them." And the Bodo and Dhimals
are " honest and truthful in deed and word." Colonel Dixon
dilates on the w fidelity, truth, and honesty " of the Carnatic
aborigines, who show " an extreme and almost touching
devotion when put upon their honour." And Hunter asserts
of the Chakmas, that " crime is rare among these primitive
people Theft is almost unknown."
So it is, too, with the general virtues of these and sundry
other uncivilized tribes. The Santal " possesses a happy dis
position," is " sociable to a fault," and while the " sexes are
greatly devoted to each other's society," the women are " ex
ceedingly chaste." The Bodo and the Dhimals are " full of
amiable qualities." The Lepcha, " cheerful, kind, and patient,"
is described by Dr. Hooker as a most "attractive com
panion ; " and Dr. Campbell gives " an instance of the effect
of a very strong sense of duty on this savage." In like
manner, from accounts of certain Malayo-Polynesian societies,
and certain Papuan societies, may be given instances show
ing in high degrees sundry traits which we ordinarily
associate only with a human nature that has been long sub
ject to the discipline of civilized life and the teachings of a
superior religion. One of the latest testimonies is that of
Signor D'Albertis, who describes certain New Guinea people
he visited (near Yule Island) as strictly honest, " very kind,"
" good and peaceful," and who, after disputes between villages,
" are as friendly as before, bearing no animosity ; " but of
236 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
whom the Eev. W. G. Lawes, commenting on Signor
D'Albertis' communication to the Colonial Institute, says
that their goodwill to the whites is being destroyed by the
whites' ill-treatment of them : the usual history.
Contrariwise, in various parts of the world men of several
types yield proofs that societies relatively advanced in
organization and culture, may yet be inhuman in their ideas,
sentiments, and usages. The Eijians, described by Dr.
Pickering as among the most intelligent of unlettered peoples,
are among the most ferocious. " Intense and vengeful
malignity strongly marks the Fijian character." Lying,
treachery, theft, and murder, are with them not criminal, but
honourable ; infanticide is immense in extent ; strangling
the sickly habitual ; and they sometimes cut up while alive
the human victims they are going to eat. Nevertheless they
have a " complicated and carefully- conducted political
system ; " well-organized military forces ; elaborate fortifica
tions ; a developed agriculture with succession of crops and
irrigation ; a considerable division of labour ; a separate dis
tributing agency with incipient currency ; and a skilled
industry which builds canoes that carry three hundred
men. Take again an African society, Dahomey. We
find there a finished system of classes, six in number ; com
plex governmental arrangements with officials always in
pairs ; an army divided into battalions, having reviews and
sham fights ; prisons, police, and sumptiiary laws ; an agri
culture which uses manure and grows a score kinds of plants;
moated towns, bridges, and roads with turnpikes. Yet along
with this comparatively high social development there goes
what we may call organized criminality. "Wars are made to
get skulls with which to decorate the royal palace ; hundreds
of subjects are killed when a king dies ; and great numbers
are annually slaughtered to carry messages to the other
world. Described as cruel and blood-thirsty, liars and
cheats, the people are "void either of sympathy or gratitude,
•even in their own families;" so that " not even the appearance
PRELIMINARY. 237
of affection exists between husband and wife, or between
parents and children." The New World, too, furnished
when it was discovered, like evidence. Having great cities
of 120,000 houses, the Mexicans had also cannibal gods,
whose idols were fed on warm, reeking, human flesh, thrust
into their mouths — wars being made purposely to supply
victims for them ; and with skill to build vast and stately
temples, there went the immolation of two thousand five
hundred persons annually, in Mexico and adjacent towns
alone, and of a far greater number throughout the country at
large. Similarly in the populous Central American States,
sufficiently civilized to have a developed system of calcula
tion, a regular calendar, books, maps, &c., there were exten
sive sacrifices of prisoners, slaves, children, whose hearts
were torn out and offered palpitating on altars, and who, in
other cases, were flayed alive and their skins used as dancing-
dresses by the priests.
Nor need we seek in remote regions or among alien races,
for proofs that there does not exist a necessary connexion
between the social types classed as civilized and those
higher sentiments which we commonly associate with civili
zation. The mutilations of prisoners exhibited on Assyrian
sculptures are not surpassed in cruelty by any we find among
the most bloodthirsty of wild races ; and Eameses II., who
delighted in having himself sculptured on temple-walls
throughout Egypt as holding a dozen captives by the hair,
and striking off their heads at a blow, slaughtered during his
conquests more human beings than a thousand chiefs of
savage tribes put together. The tortures inflicted on cap
tured enemies by Eed Indians are not greater than were
those inflicted of old on felons by crucifixion, or on suspected
rebels by sewing them up in the hides of slaughtered animals,
or on heretics by smearing them over with combustibles and
setting fire to them. The Damaras, described as so heartless
that they laugh on seeing one of their number killed by a
wild beast, are not worse than were the Romans, who gratified
238 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
themselves by watching wholesale slaughters in their arenas,
If the numbers destroyed by the hordes of Attila were not
equalled by the numbers which the Eoman armies destroyed
at the conquest of Selucia, and by the numbers of the Jews
massacred under Hadrian, it was simply because the occa
sions did not permit. The cruelties of Nero, Gallienus, and
the rest, may compare with those of Zingis and Timour ; and
when we read of Caracalla, that after he had murdered
twenty thousand friends of his murdered brother, his soldiers
forced the Senate to place him among the gods, we are shown
that in the Roman people there was a ferocity not less than
that which deifies the most sanguinary chiefs among the worst
of savages. Nor did Christianity greatly change matters.
Throughout Mediaeval Europe, political offences and religious
dissent brought on men carefully-devised agonies equalling if
not exceeding any inflicted by the most brutal of barbarians.
Startling as the truth seems, it is yet a truth to be recog
nized, that increase of humanity does not go on pari passu
with civilization ; but that, contrariwise, the earlier stages of
civilization necessitate a relative inhumanity. Among tribes
of primitive men, it is the more brutal rather than the more
kindly who succeed in those conquests which effect the earliest
social consolidations; and through many subsequent stages
unscrupulous aggression outside of the society and cruel
coercion within, are the habitual concomitants of political
development. The men of whom the better organized societies
have been formed, were at first, and long continued to be,
nothing else but the stronger and more cunning savages ; and
even now, when freed from those influences which super
ficially modify their behaviour, they prove themselves to be
little better. If, on the one hand, we contemplate the utterly
uncivilized Wood-Yecldahs, wrho are described as " proverbially
truthful and honest," "gentle and affectionate/' " obeying the
slightest intimation of a wish, and very grateful for attention
or assistance," and of whom Pridham remarks — " What a
lesson in gratitude and delicacy even a Veddah may teach 1 *
PRELIMINARY. 239
and then if, on the other hand, we contemplate our own
recent acts of international brigandage, accompanied by the
slaughter of thousands who have committed no wrong against
us — accompanied, too, by perfidious breaches of faith and the
killing of prisoners in cold blood ; we must admit that be
tween the types of men classed as uncivilized and civilized,
the differences are not necessarily of the kinds commonly
supposed. Whatever relation exists between moral nature
and social type, is not such as to imply that the social man is
in all respects emotionally superior to the pre-social man.*
§ 438. " How is this conclusion to be reconciled with the
conception of progress ? " most readers will ask. " How is
civilization to be justified if, as is thus implied, some of the
highest of human attributes are exhibited in greater degrees
by wild people who live scattered in pairs in the woods, than
by the members of a vast, well-organized nation, having
* What the social man, even of advanced race, is capable of, has been
again shown while the;e lines are standing in type. To justify the destruc
tion of two African towns in Batanga, we are told that their king, wishing to
have a trading factory established, and disappointed with the promise of a
sub-factory, boarded an English schooner, carried off Mr. Grovier, the mate,
and refusing to release him when asked, " threatened to cut the man's head
off " : a strange mode, if true, of getting a trading factory established.
Mr. Grovier afterwards escaped ; not having been ill-treated during his deten
tion. Anchoring the Boadicea and two gunboats off Kribby's Town (" King
Jack's" residence), Commodore Richards demanded of the king that he
should come on board and explain : promising him safety, and threatening
serious consequences in case of refusal. Not trusting the promise, the king
failed to come. Without ascertaining from the natives whether they had
any reason for laying hands on Mr. Govier, save this most improbable one
alleged by our people, Commodore Richards proceeded, after some hours'
notice, to clear the beach with shells, to burn the town of 300 houses, to cut
down the natives' crops, and to destroy their canoes ; and then, not satisfied
with burning "King Jack's" town, went further south and burnt "King
Long-Long's" town. These facts are published in the Times of September
10, 1880. In an article on them, this organ of English respectability regrets
that "the punishment must seem, to the childish mind of the savage, wholly-
disproportionate to the offence :" implying that to the adult mind Of tlio
civilized it will not seem disproportionate. Further, this leading journal of
ruling classes who hold that, in the absence of established theological dogmas,
74
240 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
marvellously-elaborated arts, extensive and profound know
ledge, and multitudinous appliances to welfare ? " The
answer to this question will best be conveyed by an
analogy.
As carried on throughout the animate world at large, the
struggle for existence has been an indispensable means to
evolution. Not simply do we see that in the competition
among individuals of the same kind, survival of the fittest,
has from the beginning furthered production of a higher type ;
but we see that to the unceasing warfare between species is
mainly due both growth and organization. Without univer
sal conflict there would have been no development of the
active powers. The organs of perception and of locomotion
have been little by little evolved during the inter-action of
pursuers and pursued. Improved limbs and senses have
furnished better supplies to the viscera, and improved visceral
structures have ensured a better supply of aerated blood to
the limbs and senses ; while a higher nervous system has at
each stage been called into play for co-ordinating the actions
of these more complex structures. Among predatory animals
death by starvation, and among animals preyed upon death
by destruction, have carried off the least-favourably modified
individuals and varieties. Every advance in strength, speed,
agility, or sagacity, in creatures of the one class, has necessi
tated a corresponding advance in creatures of the other class ;
and without never-ending efforts to catch and to escape, with
loss of life as the penalty for failure, the progress of neither
could have been achieved.
there would be no distinction between right and wrong, remarks tbat " if it
were not for the dark shadow cast over it by this loss of life" [of two of our
men], " the whole episode would be somewhat humorous." Doubtless, after
the " childish mind of the savage " has accepted the "glad tidings" brought
by missionaries of " the religion of love," there is humour, somewhat of the
grimmest, perhaps, in showing him the practice of this religion by burning
his house. Comments on Christian virtues, uttered by exploding shells, may
fitly be accompanied by a Mephistophelian smile. Possibly the king, in declin
ing to trust himself on board an English ship, was swayed by the common
Negro belief that the devil is white.
PRELIMINARY. 241
Mark now, however, that while this merciless discipline of
Nature, "red in tooth and claw/' has been essential to
the progress of sentient life, its persistence through all
time with all creatures must not be inferred. The high
organization evolved by and for this universal conflict, is not
necessarily for ever employed to like ends. The resulting
power and intelligence admit of being far otherwise employed.
Not for offence and defence only are the inherited structures
useful, but for various other purposes; and these various
other purposes may finally become the exclusive purposes.
The myriads of years of warfare which have developed the
powers of all lower types of creatures, have bequeathed to
the highest type of creature the powers now used by him for
countless objects besides those of killing and avoiding being
killed. His limbs, teeth and nails are but little employed in
fight; and his mind is not ordinarily occupied in devising
ways of destroying other creatures, or guarding himself from
injury by them.
Similarly with social organisms. We must recognize the
truth that the struggles for existence between societies have
been instrumental to their evolution. Neither the consolida
tion and re-consolidation of small groups into large ones ; nor
the organization of such compound and doubly compound
groups ; nor the concomitant developments of those aids to
a higher life which civilization has brought; would have
been possible without inter-tribal and inter-national con
flicts. Social cooperation is initiated by joint defence and
offence ; and from the cooperation thus initiated, all kinds of
cooperations have arisen. Inconceivable as have been the
horrors caused by this universal antagonism which, beginning
with the chronic hostilities of small hordes tens of thou
sands of years ago, has ended in the occasional vast battles of
immense nations, we must nevertheless admit that with*
out it the world would still have been inhabited only by
men of feeble types, sheltering in caves and living on wild
food.
242 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
But now observe that the inter-social struggle for exist
ence which has been indispensable in evolving societies, will
not necessarily play in the future a part like that which it has
played in the past. Eecognizing our indebtedness to war for
forming great communities and developing their structures,
we may yet infer that the acquired powers, available for other
activities, will lose their original activities. While conceding
that without these perpetual bloody strifes, civilized societies
could not have arisen, and that an adapted form of human
nature, fierce as well as intelligent, was a needful concomitant ;
we may at the same time hold that such societies having been
produced, the brutality of nature in their units which was
necessitated by the process, ceasing to be necessary with the
cessation of the process, will disappear. While the benefits
achieved during the predatory period remain a permanent
inheritance, the evils entailed by it will decrease and slowly
die out.
Thus, then, contemplating social structures and actions
from the evolution point of view, we may preserve that
calmness which is needful for scientific interpretation of them,
without losing our powers of feeling moral reprobation or
approbation.
§ 439. To these preliminary remarks respecting the mental
attitude to be preserved by the student of political institu
tions, a few briefer ones must be added respecting the subject-
matters he has to deal with.
If societies were all of the same species and differed only
in their stages of growth and structure, comparisons would
disclose clearly the course of evolution ; but unlikenesses
of type among them, here great and there small, obscure the
results of such comparisons.
Again, if each society grew and unfolded itself without the
intrusion of additional factors, interpretation would be rela
tively easy; but the complicated processes of development
are frequently re-complicated by changes in the gets of
PRELIMINARY. 243
factors. Now the size of the social aggregate is all at once
increased or decreased by annexation or by loss of territory ;
and now the average character of its -units is altered by the
coming in of another race as conquerors or as slaves ;. while,
as a further effect of this event, new social relations are
superposed on the old. In many cases the repeated over-
runnings of societies by one another, the minglings of peoples
and institutions, the breakings up and re-aggregations, so
destroy the continuity of normal processes as to make it
extremely difficult, if not impossible, to draw conclu
sions.
Once more, modifications in the average mode of life
pursued by a society, now increasingly warlike and now
increasingly industrial, initiate metamorphoses : changed
activities generate changes of structures. Consequently there
have to be distinguished those progressive re-arrangements
caused by the further development of one social type, from
those caused by the commencing development of another
social type. The lines of an organization adapted to a mode
of activity which has ceased, or has been long suspended, begin
to fade, and are traversed by the increasingly-definite lines of
an organization adapted to the mode of activity which has
replaced it; and error may result from mistaking traits
belonging to the one for those belonging to the other.
Hence we may infer that out of the complex and confused
evidence, only the larger truths will emerge with clearness.
While anticipating that certain general conclusions are to be
positively established, we may anticipate that more special
ones can be alleged only as probable.
Happily, however, as we shall eventually see, those general
conclusions admitting of positive establishment, are the con
clusions of most value for guidance.
CHAPTER II.
POLITICAL ORGANIZATION IN GENERAL.
§ 440. The mere gathering of individuals into a group does
not constitute them a society. A society, in the sociological
sense, is formed only when, besides juxtaposition there is co
operation. So long as members of the group do not combine
their energies to achieve some common end or ends, there is
little to keep them together. They are prevented from sepa
rating only when the wants of each are better satisfied by
uniting his efforts with those of others, than they would be
if he a/;ted alone.
Cooperation, then, is at once that which cannot exist
without a society, and that for which a society exists. It
may be a joining of many strengths to effect something which
the strength of no single man can effect ; or it may be an
apportioning of different activities to different persons, who
severally participate in the benefits of one another's activities.
The motive for acting together, originally the dominant one,
may be defence against enemies ; or it may be the easier ob-
tamment of food, by the chase or otherwise ; or it may be,
and commonly is, both of these. In any case, however, the
units pass from the state of perfect independence to the state
of mutual dependence; and as fast as they do this they
become united into a society rightly so called.
But cooperation implies organization. If acts are to be
effectually combined, there must be arrangements under which
they are adjusted in their times, amounts, and characters.
§ 441. This social organization, necessary as a means to
concerted action, is of two kinds. Though these two kinds
POLITICAL ORGANIZATION IN GENERAL. 245
generally co-exist, and are more or less interfused, yet they
are distinct in their origins and natures. There is a spon
taneous cooperation which grows up without thought during
the pursuit of private ends ; and there is a cooperation which,
consciously devised, implies distinct recognition of public
ends. The ways in which the two are respectively established
and carried on, present marked contrasts.
Whenever, in a primitive group, there begins that coopera
tion which is effected by exchange of services — whenever
individuals find their wants better satisfied by giving certain
products which they can make best, in return for other pro
ducts they are less skilled in making, or not so well circum
stanced for making, there is initiated a kind of organization,
which then, and throughout its higher stages, results from
endeavours to meet personal needs. Division of labour,
to the last as at first, grows by experience of mutual facilita
tions in living. Each new specialization of industry arises
from the effort of one who commences it to get profit ; and
establishes itself by conducing in some way to the profit of
others. So that there is a kind of concerted action, with an
elaborate social organization developed by it, which does not
originate in deliberate concert. Though within the small sub
divisions of this organization, we find everywhere repeated
the relation of employer and employed, of whom the one
directs the actions of the other; yet this relation, sponta
neously formed in aid of private ends and continued only at
will, is not formed with conscious reference to achievement of
public ends: these are not thought of. And though, for
regulating trading activities, there arise agencies serving to
adjust the supplies of commodities to the demands ; yet such
agencies do this not by direct stimulations or restraints, but
by communicating information which serves to stimulate or
restrain; and, further, these agencies grow up not for the
avowed purpose of thus regulating, but in the pursuit of gain
by individuals. So unintentionally has there arisen the
elaborate division of labour by which production and distil-
246 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
bution are now carried on, that only in modern days has
there come a recognition of the fact that it has all along been
arising.
On the other hand, cooperation for a purpose immediately
concerning the whole society, is a conscious cooperation ; and
is carried on by an organization of another kind, formed in a
different way. When the primitive group has to defend
itself against other groups, its members act together under
further stimuli than those constituted by purely personal
desires. Even at the outset, before any control by a chief
exists, there is the control exercised by the group over its
members ; each of whom is obliged, by public opinion, to join
in the general defence. Very soon the warrior of recognized
superiority begins to exercise over each, during war, an in
fluence additional to that exercised by the group ; and when
his authority becomes established, it greatly furthers com
bined action. From the beginning, therefore, this kind of
social cooperation is a conscious cooperation, and a coopera
tion which is not wholly a matter of choice — is often at
variance with private wishes. As the organization initiated
by it develops, we see that, in the first place, the fighting
division of the society displays in the highest degree these
same traits : the grades and divisions constituting an army,
cooperate more and more under the regulation, consciously
established, of agencies which override individual volitions —
or, to speak strictly, control individuals by motives which
prevent them from acting as they would spontaneously act.
In the second place, we see that throughout the society as a
whole there spreads a kindred form of organization — kindred
in so far that, for the purpose of maintaining the militant
body and the government which directs it, there are esta
blished over citizens, agencies which force them to labour
more or less largely for public ends instead of private ends.
And, simultaneously, there develops a further organization,
still akin in its fundamental principle, which restrains indi
vidual actions in such wise that social safety shall not be
POLITICAL ORGANIZATION IN GENERAL. 247
endangered by the disorder consequent on unchecked pursuit
of personal ends. So that this kind of social organization is
distinguished from the other, as arising through conscious
pursuit of public ends; in furtherance of which individual
wills are constrained, first by the joint wills of the entire
group, and afterwards more definitely by the will of a regu
lative agency which the group evolves.
Most clearly shall we perceive the contrast between these
two kinds of organization on observing that, while they are
both instrumental to social welfare, they are instrumental in
converse ways. That organization shown us by the division
of labour for industrial purposes, exhibits combined action ;
but it is a combined action which directly seeks and subserves
the welfares of individuals, and indirectly subserves the
welfare of society as a whole by preserving individuals.
Conversely, that organization evolved for governmental and
defensive purposes, exhibits combined action ; but it is a com
bined action which directly seeks and subserves the welfare
of the society as a whole, and indirectly subserves the wel
fares of individuals by protecting the society. Efforts for
self-preservation by the units originate the one form of
organization ; while efforts for self-preservation by the aggre
gate originate the other form of organization. In the first
case there is conscious pursuit of private ends only ; and the
correlative organization resulting from this pursuit of private
ends, growing up unconsciously, is without coercive power.
In the second case there is conscious pursuit of public ends ;
and the correlative organization, consciously established,
exercises coercion.
Of these two kinds of cooperation and the structures
effecting them, we are here concerned only with one. Poli
tical organization is to be understood as that part of social
organization which consciously carries on directive and re
straining functions for public ends. It is true, as already
hinted, and as we shall see presently, that the two kinds are
mingled in various ways — that each ramifies through the
248 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
other more or less according to their respective degrees of
predominance. But they are essentially different in origin
and nature ; and for the present we must, so far as may be,
limit our attention to the last.
§ 442. That the cooperation into which men have gradually
risen secures to them benefits which could not be secured
while, in their primitive state, they acted singly ; and that,
as an indispensable means to this cooperation, political
organization has been, and is, advantageous ; we shall see on
contrasting the states of men who are not politically organized,
with the states of men who are politically organized in less
or greater degrees.
There are, indeed, conditions under which as good an indi
vidual life is possible without political organization as with
it. Where, as in the habitat of the Esquimaux, there are but
few persons and these widely scattered ; where there is no
war, probably because the physical impediments to it are
great and the motives to it feeble ; and where circumstances
make the occupations so uniform that there is little scope for
division of labour; mutual dependence can have no place, and
the arrangements which effect it are not needed. Eecog-
iiizing this exceptional case, let us consider the cases which
are not exceptional.
The Digger Indians, " very few degrees removed from the
ourang-outang," who, scattered among the mountains of the
Sierra Nevada, sheltering in holes and living on roots and
vermin, "drag out a miserable existence in a state of nature,
amid the most loathsome and disgusting squalor," differ from
the other divisions of the Shoshones by their entire lack of
social organization. The river-haunting and plain-haunting
divisions of the race, under some, though but slight, govern
mental control, lead more satisfactory lives. In South
America the Chaco Indians, low in type as are the Diggers,
and like them degraded and wretched in their lives, are simi
larly contrasted with the superior and more comfortable
POLITICAL ORGANIZATION IN GENERAL. 249
savages around them in being dissociated. Among the
Bedouin tribes, the Sherarat are unlike the rest in being divided
and sub-divided into countless bands which have no common
chief; and they are described as being the most miserable of
the Bedouins. More decided still is the contrast noted by
Baker between certain adjacent African peoples. Passing
suddenly, he says, from the unclothed, ungoverned tribes —
from the "wildest savagedom to semi-civilisation" — we come,
in Unyoro, to a country ruled by " an unflinching despot,"
inflicting " death or torture " for " the most trivial offences ;"
but where they have developed administration, sub-governors,
taxes, good clothing, arts, agriculture, architecture. So, too,
concerning New Zealand when first discovered, Cook re
marked that there seemed to be greater prosperity and popu-
lousness in the regions subject to a king.
These last cases introduce us to a further truth. Not only
does that first step in political organization which places
individuals under the control of a tribal chief, bring the ad
vantages gained by better cooperation ; but such advantages
are increased when minor political heads become subject to
a major political head. As typifying the evils which are
thereby avoided, I may name the fact that among the Beloo-
chees, whose tribes, unsubordinated to a general ruler, are
constantly at war with one another, it is the habit to erect a
small mud tower in each field, where the possessor and his
retainers guard his produce : a state of things allied to, but
worse than, that of the Highland clans, with their strongholds
for sheltering women and cattle from the inroads of their
Deighbours, in days when they were not under the control of
•a central power. The benefits derived from such wider con
trol, whether of a simple head or of a compound head, were
felt by the early Greeks when an Amphictyonic council esr
tablished the laws that " no Hellenic tribe is to lay the habi
tations of another level with the ground; and from no
Hellenic city is the water to be cut off during a siege.'1 How
that advance of political structure which unites smaller com-
250 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
inanities into larger ones furthers welfare, was shown in our
own country when, by the Eoman conquest, the incessant
fights between tribes were stopped ; and again, in later days,
when feudal nobles, becoming subject to a monarch, were de
barred from private wars. Under its converse aspect the
same truth was illustrated when, amidst the anarchy which
followed the collapse of the Carolingian empire, dukes and
counts, resuming their independence, became active enemies
to one another : their state being such that " when they were
not at war they lived by open plunder." And the history of
Europe has repeatedly, in many places and times, furnished
kindred illustrations.
While political organization, as it extends itself throughout
masses of increasing size, directly furthers welfare by re
moving that impediment to cooperation which the antago
nisms of individuals and of tribes cause, it indirectly furthers
it in another way. Nothing beyond a rudimentary division
of labour can arise in a small social group. Before commo
dities can be multiplied in their kinds, there must be multi
plied kinds of producers ; and before each commodity can be
produced in the most economical way, the different stages
in the production of it must be apportioned among special
hands. NOT is this all. Neither the required complex com
binations of individuals, nor the elaborate mechanical appli
ances which facilitate manufacture, can arise in the absence
of a large community, generating a great demand.
§ 443. But though the advantages gained by cooperation
presuppose political organization, this political organization
necessitates disadvantages ; and it is quite possible for these
disadvantages to outweigh the advantages. The controlling
structures have to be maintained ; the restraints they impose
have to be borne ; and the evils inflicted by taxation and by
tyranny may become greater than the evils prevented.
Where, as in the East, the rapacity of monarchs has some
times gone to the extent of taking from cultivators so much
POLITICAL ORGANIZATION IN GENERAL. 251
of their produce as to have afterwards to return part for
seed, we see exemplified the truth that the agency which
maintains order may cause miseries greater than the miseries
caused by disorder. The state of Egypt under the
Romans, who, on the native set of officials superposed their
own set, and who made drafts on the country's resources not
for local administration only but also for imperial administra
tion, furnishes an instance. Beyond the regular taxes there
were demands for feeding and clothing the military, wherever
quartered. Extra calls were continually made on the people
for maintaining public works and subaltern agents. Men in
office were themselves so impoverished by exactions that
they "assumed dishonourable employments or became the
slaves of persons in power." Gifts made to the government
were soon converted into forced contributions. And those who
purchased immunities from extortions found them disregarded
as soon as the sums asked had been received. More
terrible still were the curses following excessive development
of political organization in Gaul, during the decline of the
Roman empire : —
" So numerous were the receivers in comparison with the payers, and
so enormous the weight of taxation, that the labourer broke down,
the plains became deserts, and woods grew where the plough had
been It were impossible to number the officials who were rained
upon every province and town The crack of the lash and the cry
of the tortured filled the air. The faithful slave was tortured for evi
dence against his master, the wife to depose against her husband, the
son against his sire Not satisfied with the returns of the first
enumerators, they sent a succession of others, who each swelled the
valuation — as a proof of service done ; and so the imposts went on in
creasing. Yet the number of cattle fell off, and the people died.
Nevertheless, the survivors had to pay the taxes of the dead."
And how literally in this case the benefits were exceeded by
the mischiefs, is shown by the contemporary statement that
* they fear the enemy less than the tax-gatherer : the truth
is, that they fly to the first to avoid the last. Hence the one
unanimous wish of the Roman populace, that it was their lot to
live with the barbarian." In the same region during
252 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
later times the lesson was repeated. While internal peace and
its blessings were achieved in mediaeval France as fast as feudal
nobles became subordinate to the king — while the central
power, as it grew stronger, put an end to that primitive prac
tice of a blood-revenge which wreaked itself on any relative
of an offender, and made the " trace of God " a needful miti
gation of the universal savagery ; yet from this extension of
political organization there presently grew up evils as great
or greater — multiplication of taxes, forced loans, groundless
confiscations, arbitrary fines, progressive debasements of
coinage, and a universal corruption of justice consequent on
the sale of offices : the results being that many people died
by famine, some committed suicide, while others, deserting
their homes, led a wandering life. And then, afterwards,
when the supreme ruler, becoming absolute, controlled social
action in all its details, through an administrative system vast
in extent and ramifications, with the general result that in
less than two centuries the indirect taxation alone " crossed
the enormous interval between 11 millions and 311," there
came the national impoverishment and misery which resulted
in the great revolution. Even the present day sup
plies kindred evidence from sundry places. A voyage up the
Nile shows every observer that the people are better off
where they are remote from the centre of government — that
is, where administrative agencies cannot so easily reach them.
Nor is it only under the barbaric Turk that this happens.
Notwithstanding the boasted beneficence of our rule in India,
the extra burdens and restraints it involves, have the effect
that the people find adjacent countries preferable : the ryots
in some parts have been leaving their homes and settling iu
the territory of the Nizam and in Gwalior.
Not only do those who are controlled suffer from political
organization evils which greatly deduct from, and sometimes
exceed, the benefits. Numerous and rigid governmental
restraints shackle those who impose them, as well as those on
whom they are imposed. The successive grades of ruling
POLITICAL ORGANIZATION TN GENERAL. 253
agents, severally coercing grades below, are themselves
coerced by grades above ; and even the highest ruling agent
is enslaved by the system created for the preservation of his
supremacy. In ancient Egypt the daily life of the king was
minutely regulated alike as to its hours, its occupations, its
ceremonies ; so that, nominally all powerful, he was really less
free than a subject. It has been, and is, the same with other
despotic monarchs. Till lately in Japan, where the form of
organization had become fixed, and where, from the highest
to the lowest, the actions of life were prescribed in detail, the
exercise of authority was so burdensome that voluntary re
signation of it was frequent: we read that "the custom
of abdication is common among all classes, from the Emperor
down to his meanest subject." European states have ex
emplified this re-acting tyranny. " In the Byzantine palace,"
says Gibbon, " the Emperor was the first slave of the cere
monies he imposed." Concerning the tedious court life of
Louis XIV., Madame de Maintenon remarks — " Save those
only who fill the highest stations, I know of none more un
fortunate than those who envy them. If you could only
form an idea of what it is ! "
So that while the satisfaction of men's wants is furthered
both by the maintenance of order and by the formation of
aggregates large enough to permit extensive division of labour,
it is hindered both by great deductions from the products of
their actions, and by the restraints imposed on their actions —
usually in excess of the needs. And political control in
directly entails evils on those who exercise it as well as on
those over whom it is exercised.
§ 444. The stones composing a house cannot be otherwise
used until the house has been pulled down. If the stones
are united by mortar, there must be extra trouble in destroy
ing their present combination before they can be re-combined.
And if the mortar has had centuries in which to consolidate,
the breaking up of the masses formed is a matter of such
254 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
difficulty, that building with new materials becomes more
economical than rebuilding with the old.
I name these facts to illustrate the truth that any arrange
ment stands in the way of re-arrangement; and that this
must be true of organization, which is one kind of arrange
ment. When, during the evolution of a living body, its com
ponent substance, at first relatively homogeneous, has been
transformed into a combination of heterogeneous parts, there
results an obstacle, always great and often insuperable, to
any considerable further change : the more elaborate and defi
nite the structure the greater being the resistance it opposes
to alteration. And this, which is conspicuously true of an
individual organism, is true, if less conspicuously, of a social
organism. Though a society, formed of discrete units, and
not having had its type fixed by inheritance from countless
like societies, is much more plastic, yet the same principle
holds. As fast as its parts are differentiated — as fast as there
arise classes, bodies of functionaries, established administra
tions, these, becoming coherent within themselves and with
one another, struggle against such forces as tend to modify
them. The conservatism of every long-settled institution
daily exemplifies this law. Be it in the antagonism of a
church to legislation interfering with its discipline ; be it in
the opposition of an army to abolition of the purchase-
system ; be it in the disfavour with which the legal profes
sion at large has regarded law-reform ; we see that neither in
their structures nor- in their modes of action, are parts that
have once been specialized easily changed.
As it is true of a living body that its various acts have as
their common end self-preservation, so is it true of its com
ponent organs that they severally tend to preserve them
selves in their integrity. And, similarly, as it is true of a
society that maintenance of its existence is the aim of its
combined actions, so it is true of its separate classes, its sets
of officials, its other specialized parts, that the dominant aim
of each is to maintain itself. Not the function to be pei-
POLITICAL ORGANIZATION IN GENERAL. 255
formed, but the sustentation of those who perform the func
tion, becomes the object in view : the result being that when
the function is needless, or even detrimental, the structure
still keeps itself intact as long as it can. In early days
the history of the Knights Templars furnished an illustration
of this tendency. Down to the present time we have before
us the familiar instance of trade-guilds in London, which
having ceased to perform their original duties, nevertheless
jealously defend their possessions and privileges. The con
vention of Royal Burghs in Scotland, which once regulated
the internal municipal laws, still meets annually though it
has no longer any work to do. And the accounts given in
The Black Book of the sinecures which survived up to recent
times, yield multitudinous illustrations.
The extent to which an organization resists re-organization,
we shall not fully appreciate until we observe that its resist
ance increases in a compound progression. For while each new
part is an additional obstacle to change, the formation of it
involves a deduction from the forces causing change. If,
other things remaining the same, the political structures of a
society are further developed — if existing institutions are
extended or fresh ones set up — if for directing social activities
in greater detail, extra staffs of officials are appointed ; the
simultaneous results are — an increase in the aggregate of
tliose who form the regulating part, and a corresponding de
crease in the aggregate of those who form the part regulated.
In various ways all who compose the controlling and adminis
trative organization, become united with one another and
separated from the rest. Whatever be their particular
duties, they are similarly related to the governing centres of
their departments, and, through them, to the supreme govern
ing centre ; and are habituated to like sentiments and ideas
respecting the set of institutions in which they are incorpo
rated. Receiving their subsistence through the national
revenue, they tend towards kindred views and feelings
respecting the raising of such revenue. Whatever jealousies
75
256 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
there may be between their divisions, are over-ridden by
sympathy when any one division has its existence or privi
leges endangered; since the interference with one division
may spread to others. Moreover, they all stand in similar
relations to the rest of the community, whose actions are in
one way or other superintended by them ; and hence are led
into allied beliefs respecting the need for such superin
tendence and the propriety of submitting to it. No matter
what their previous political opinions may have been, men
cannot become public agents of any kind without being
biassed towards opinions congruous with their functions. So
that, inevitably, each further growth of the instrumentalities
which control, or administer, or inspect, or in any way direct
social forces, increases the impediment to future modifica
tions, both positively by strengthening that which has to be
modified, and negatively, by weakening the remainder ; until
at length the rigidity becomes so great that change is impos
sible 'and the type becomes fixed.
ISTor does each further development of political organization
increase the obstacles to change, only by increasing the
power of the regulators and decreasing the power of the
regulated. .For the ideas and sentiments of a community as
a whole, adapt themselves to the regime familiar from child
hood, in such wise that it comes to be looked upon as natural.
In proportion as public agencies occupy a larger space in
daily experience, leaving but a smaller space for other
agencies, there comes a greater tendency to think of public
control as everywhere needful, and a less ability to conceive
of activities as otherwise controlled. At the same time the
sentiments, adjusted by habit to the regulative machinery,
become enlisted on its behalf, and adverse to the thought of
a vacancy to be made by its absence. In brief, the general
law that the social organism and its units act and re -act until
congruity is reached, implies that every further extension of
political organization increases the obstacle to re-organiza
tion, not only by adding to the strength of the regulative
POLITICAL ORGANIZATION IN GENERAL. 257
part, and taking from the strength of the part regulated,
but also by producing in citizens thoughts and feelings
in harmony with the resulting structure, and out of har
mony with anything substantially different. Both
France and Germany exemplify this truth. M. Comte, while
looking forward to an industrial state, was so swayed by
the conceptions and likings appropriate to the French form
of society, that his scheme of organization for the ideal
future, prescribes arrangements characteristic of the militant
type, and utterly at variance with the industrial type.
Indeed, he had a profound aversion to that individualism
which is a product of industrial life and gives the character
to industrial institutions. So, too, in Germany, we see that
the socialist party, who are regarded and who regard them
selves as wishing to re-organize society entirely, are so in
capable of really thinking away from the social type under
which they have been nurtured, that their proposed social
system is in essence nothing else than a new form of the
system they would destroy. It is a system under which life
and labour are to be arranged and superintended by public
instrumentalities, omnipresent like those which already exist
and no less coercive : the individual having his life even
more regulated for him than now.
While, then, the absence of settled arrangements negatives
cooperation, yet cooperation of a higher kind is hindered by
the arrangements which facilitate cooperation of a lower
kind. Though without established connexions among parts,
there can be no combined actions ; yet the more extensive
and elaborate such connexions grow, the more difficult does it
become to make improved combinations of actions. There is
an increase of the forces which tend to fix, and a decrease of
the forces which tend to unfix ; until the fully-structured
social organism, like the fully-structured individual organism,
becomes no longer adaptable.
§ 445. In a living animal, formed as it is of aggregated
258 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS
units originally like in kind, the progress of organization im
plies, not only that the units composing each differentiated
part severally maintain their positions, but also that their
progeny succeed to those positions. Bile-cells which, while
performing their functions, grow and give origin to new bile-
cells, are, when they decay and disappear, replaced by these :
the cells descending from them do not migrate to the kid
neys, or the muscles, or the nervous centres, to join in the
performance of their duties. And, evidently, unless the
specialized units each organ is made of, produced units simi
larly specialized, which remained in the same place, there
could be none of those settled relations among parts which
characterize the organism, and fit it for its particular mode of
life.
In a society also, establishment of structure is favoured by
the transmission of positions and functions through successive
generations. The maintenance of those class-divisions which
arise as political organization advances, implies the inherit
ance of a rank and a place in each class. The like happens
with those sub-divisions of classes which, in some societies,
constitute castes, and in other societies are exemplified by in
corporated trades. Where custom or law compels the sons of
each worker to follow their father's occupation, there result
among the industrial structures obstacles to change analogous
to those which result in the regulative structures from im
passable divisions of ranks. India shows this in an extreme
degree ; and in a less degree it was shown by the craft-guilds
of early days in England, which facilitated adoption of a craft
by the children of those engaged in it, and hindered adoption
of it by others. Thus we may call inheritance of position and
function, the principle of fixity in social organization.
There is another way in which succession by inheritance,
whether to class-position or to occupation, conduces to
stability. It secures supremacy of the elder ; and supremacy
of the elder tends towards maintenance of the established
order. A system under which a chief-ruler, sub-ruler, head of
POLITICAL ORGANIZATION IN GENERAL. 259
clan or house, official, or any person having the power given
by rank or property, retains his place until at death it is filled
by a descendant, in conformity with some accepted rule of
succession, is a system under which, by implication, the
young, and even the middle-aged, are excluded from the con
duct of affairs. So, too, where an industrial system is such
that the son, habitually brought up to his father's business,
cannot hold a master's position till his father dies, it follows
that the regulative power of the elder over the processes of
production and distribution, is scarcely at all qualified by the
power of the younger. Now it is a truth daily exemplified,
that increasing rigidity of organization, necessitated by the
process of evolution, produces in age an increasing strength
of habit and aversion to change. Hence it results that suc
cession to place and function by inheritance, having as its
necessary concomitant a monopoly of power by the eldest,
involves a prevailing conservatism ; and thus further insures
maintenance of things as they are.
Conversely, social change is facile in proportion as men's
places and functions are determinable by personal qualities.
Members of one rank who establish themselves in another
rank, in so far directly break the division between the ranks ;
and they indirectly weaken it by preserving their family
relations with the first, and forming new ones with the
second ; while, further, the ideas and sentiments pervading
the two ranks, previously more or less different, are made
to qualify one another and to work changes of character.
Similarly if, between sub-divisions of the producing and dis
tributing classes, there are no barriers to migration, then, in
proportion as migrations are numerous, influences physical
and mental, following inter-fusion, alter the natures of their
units ; at the same time that they check the establishment of
differences of nature caused by differences of occupation.
Such transpositions of individuals between class and class, or
group and group, must, on the average, however, depend on
the fitnesses of the individuals for their new places and duties.
260 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
Intrusions will ordinarily succeed only where the intruding
citizens have more than usual aptitudes for the businesses
they undertake. Those who desert their original functions,
are at a disadvantage in the competition with those whose
functions they assume; and they can overcome this disad
vantage only by force of some superiority : must do the new
thing better than those born to it, and so tend to improve
the doing of it by their example. This leaving of men to
have their careers determined by their efficiencies, we may
therefore call the principle of change in social organization.
As we saw that succession by inheritance conduces in a
secondary way to stability, by keeping authority in the hands
of those who by age are made most averse to new practices,
so here, conversely, we may see that succession by efficiency
conduces in a secondary way to change. Both positively and
negatively the possession of power by the young facilitates
innovation. While the energies are overflowing, little fear is
felt of those obstacles to improvement and evils it may bring,
which, when energies are failing, look formidable ; and at the
same time the greater imaginativeness that goes along with
higher vitality, joined with a smaller strength of habit, facili
tates acceptance of fresh ideas and adoption of untried
methods. Since, then, where the various social positions come
to be respectively filled by those who are experimentally
proved to be the fittest, the relatively young are permitted to
exercise authority, it results that succession by efficiency
furthers change in social organization, indirectly as well as
directly.
Contrasting the two, we thus see that while the acquire
ment of function by inheritance conduces to rigidity of struc
ture, the acquirement of function by efficiency conduces to
plasticity of structure. Succession by descent favours the
maintenance of that which exists. Succession by fitness
favours transformation, and makes possible something better.
§ 446. As was pointed out in § 228, " complication of
POLITICAL ORGANIZATION IN GENERAL. 261
structure accompanies increase of mass," in social organisms
as in individual organisms. When small societies are com
pounded into a larger society, the controlling agencies needed
in the several component societies must be subordinated to a
central controlling agency : new structures are required. Ee-
compounding necessitates a kindred further complexity in
the governmental arrangements ; and at each of such stages
of increase, all other arrangements must become more com
plicated. As Duruy remarks — "By becoming a world in
place of a town, Eome could not conserve institutions esta
blished for a single city and a small territory. . . . How
was it possible for sixty millions of provincials to enter the
narrow and rigid circle of municipal institutions ?" The like
holds where, instead of extension of territory, there is only
increase of population. The contrast between the simple
administrative system which sufficed in old English times
for a million people, and the complex administrative system
at present needed for many millions, sufficiently indicates
this general truth.
Bat now, mark a corollary. If, on the one hand, further
growth implies more complex structure, on the other hand,
changeableness of structure is a condition to further growth ;
and, conversely, unchangeableness of structure is a concomi
tant of arrested growth. Like the correlative law just noted,
this law is clearly seen in individual organisms. Necessarily,
transition from the small immature form to the large
mature form in a living creature, implies that all the parts
have to be changed in their sizes and connexions: every
detail of every organ has to be modified ; and this implies
the retention of plasticity. Necessarily, also, when, on
approaching maturity, the organs are assuming their final
arrangement, their increasing definiteness and firmness con
stitute an increasing impediment to growth : the un-building
and re-building required before there can be re-adjustment,
become more and more difficult. So is it with a society.
Augmentation of its mass necessitates change of the pre-
262 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
existing structures, either by incorporation of the increment
with them, or by their extension through it. Every further
elaboration of the arrangements entails an additional obstacle
to this ; and when rigidity is reached, such modifications of
them as increase of mass would involve, are impossible, and
increase is prevented.
Nor is this all. Controlling and administrative instru
mentalities antagonize growth by absorbing the materials for
growth. Already when pointing out the evils which accom
pany the benefits gained by political organization, this effect
has been indirectly implied. Governmental expenditure,
there represented as deducting from the lives of producers
by taking away their produce, has for its ulterior result de
ducting from the life of the community : depletion of the
units entails depletion of the aggregate. Where the abstrac
tion of private means for public purposes is excessive, the
impoverishment leads to decrease of population ; and where
it is less excessive, to arrest of population. Clearly those
members of a society who form the regulative parts, together
with all their dependents, have to be supplied with the means
of living by the parts which carry on the processes of pro
duction and distribution ; and if the regulative parts go on
increasing relatively to the other parts, there must eventually
be reached a point at which they absorb the entire surplus,
and multiplication is stopped by innutrition.
Hence a significant relation between the .structure of a
society and its growth. Organization in excess of need, pre
vents the attainment of that larger size and accompanying
higher type which might else have arisen.
§ 447. To aid our interpretations of the special facts
presently to be dealt with, we must keep in mind the fore
going general facts. They may be summed up as fol
lows : —
Cooperation is made possible by society, and makes society
POLITICAL ORGANIZATION IN GENERAL. 263
possible. It pre-supposes associated men ; and men remain
associated because of the benefits cooperation yields them.
But there cannot be concerted actions without agencies by
which actions are adjusted in their times, amounts, and kinds;
and the actions cannot be of various kinds without the co-
operators undertaking different duties. That is to say, the
cooperators must become organized, either voluntarily or
involuntarily.
The organization which cooperation implies, is of two
kinds, distinct in origin and nature. The one, arising directly
from the pursuit of individual ends, and indirectly conducing
to social welfare, develops unconsciously and is non-coercive.
The other, arising directly from the pursuit of social ends,
and indirectly conducing to individual welfare, develops
consciously and is coercive.
While, by making cooperation possible, political organiza
tion achieves benefits, deductions from these benefits are
entailed by the organization. Maintenance of it is costly ;
and the cost may become a greater evil than the evils escaped.
It necessarily imposes restraints ; and these restraints may
become so extreme that anarchy, with all its miseries, is
preferable.
An established organization is an obstacle to re-organiza
tion. Self-sustentation is the primary aim of each part as of
the whole ; and hence parts once formed tend to continue,
whether they are or are not useful. Moreover, each addition
to the regulative structures, implying, other things equal, a
simultaneous deduction from the rest of the society which
is regulated, it results that while the obstacles to change
are increased, the forces causing change are decreased.
Maintenance of a society's organization implies that the
units forming its component structures shall severally be re
placed as they die. Stability is favoured if the vacancies
they leave are filled without dispute by descendants ; while
change is favoured if the vacancies are filled by those who
264 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
are experimentally proved to be best fitted for them. Sue-
cession by inheritance is thus the principle of social rigidity ;
while succession by efficiency is the 'principle of social
plasticity.
Though, to make cooperation possible, and therefore to
facilitate social growth, there must be organization, yet the
organization formed impedes further growth; since further
growth implies re-organization, which the existing organiza
tion resists ; and since the existing organization absorbs part
of the material for growth.
So that while, at each stage, better immediate results may
be achieved by completing organization, they must be at the
expense of better ultimate results.
CHAPTER III.
POLITICAL INTEGRATION.
§ 448. THE analogy between individual organisms and
social organisms, which holds in so many respects, holds in
respect to the actions which cause growth. We shall find it
instructive to glance at political integration in the light of
this analogy.
Every animal sustains itself and grows by incorporating
either the materials composing other animals or those com
posing plants ; and from microscopic protozoa upwards, it has
been through success in the struggle thus to incorporate, that
animals of the greatest sizes and highest structures have been
evolved. This process is carried on by creatures of the lowest
kinds in a purely physical or insentient way. Without
nervous system or fixed distribution of parts, the rhizopod
draws in fragments of nutritive matter by actions which we
are obliged to regard as unconscious. So is it, too, with
simple aggregates formed by the massing of such minute
creatures. The sponge, for example, in that framework of
fibres familiar to us in its dead state, holds together, when
living, a multitude of separate monads; and the activities
which go on in the sponge, are such as directly further the
separate lives of these monads, and indirectly further the
life of the whole: the whole having neither sentiency nor
power of movement. At a higher stage, however, the process
of taking in nutritive materials by a composite organism.
266 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
comes to be carried on in a sentient way, and in a way
differing from the primitive way in this, that it directly
furthers the life of the whole, and indirectly furthers the
lives of the component units. Eventually, the well-consoli
dated and organized aggregate, which originally had no other
life than was constituted by the separate lives of these
minute creatures massed together, acquires a corporate life
predominating over their lives ; and also acquires desires by
which its activities are guided to acts of incorporation. To
which add the obvious corollary that as, in the course of
evolution, its size increases, it incorporates with itself larger
and larger aggregates as prey.
Analogous stages may be traced in the growth of social
organisms, and in the accompanying forms of action. At first
there is no other life in the group than that seen in the lives
of its members ; and only as organization increases does the
group as a whole come to have that joint life constituted
by mutually-dependant actions. The members of a primi
tive horde, loosely aggregated, and without distinctions of
power, cooperate for immediate furtherance of individual
sustentation, and in a comparatively small degree for corpo
rate sustentation. Even when, the interests of all being
simultaneously endangered, they simultaneously fight, they
still fight separately — their actions are uncoordinated ; and
the only spoils of successful battle are such as can be indi
vidually appropriated. But in the course of the struggles for
existence between groups thus unorganized, there comes, with
the development of such political organization as gives tribal
individuality, the struggle to incorporate one another, first
partially and then wholly. Tribes which are larger, or better
organized, or both, conquer adjacent tribes and annex them,
so that they form parts of a compound whole. And as
political evolution advances, it becomes a trait of the larger
and stronger societies that they acquire appetites prompting
them to subjugate and incorporate weaker societies.
Full perception of this difference will be gained on looking
POLITICAL INTEGRATION. 267
more closely at the contrast between the wars of small groups
and those of large nations. As, even among dogs, the fights
that arise between individuals when one attempts to take
another's food, grow into fights between packs if one tres
passes upon the feeding haunts of another (as is seen in
Constantinople) ; so among primitive men, individual con
flicts for food pass into conflicts between hordes, when, in
pursuit of food, one encroaches on another's territory. After
the pastoral state is reached, such motives continue with a
difference. " Retaliation for past robberies," is the habitual plea
for war among the Bechuanas : " their real object being always
the acquisition of cattle." Similarly among European peoples
in ancient days. Achilles says of the Trojans — " They are
blameless as respects me, since they have never driven away
my oxen, nor my horses." And the fact that in Scotland
during early times, cattle-raids were habitual causes of inter
tribal fights, shows us how persistent have been these
struggles for the means of individual sustentation. Even
where the life is agricultural, the like happens at the outset.
" A field or a farrow's breadth of land is disputed upon the
border of a district, and gives rise to rustic strife between the
parties and their respective hamlets," says Macpherson of the
Khonds; and "should the tribes to which the disputants
belong be disposed to hostility, they speedily embrace the
quarrel." So that competition in social growth is still re
stricted to competition for the means to that personal welfare
indirectly conducive to social growth.
In yet another way do we see exemplified this general
truth. The furthering of growth by that which furthers the
multiplication of units, is shown us in the stealing of
women — a second cause of primitive war. Men of one tribe
who abduct the women of another, not only by so doing
directly increase the number of their own tribe, but, in a
greater degree, indirectly conduce to its increase by after
wards adding to the number of children. In which mode of
growing at one another's expense, common among existin«
268 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
tribes of savages, and once common among tribes from which
civilized nations have descended, we still see the same trait :
any augmentation of the group which takes place, is an indi
rect result of individual appropriations and reproductions.
Contrariwise, in more advanced stages the struggle between
societies is, not to appropriate one another's means of sus-
tentation and multiplication, but to appropriate one another
bodily. Which society shall incorporate other societies with
itself, becomes the question. Under one aspect, the history
of large nations is a history of successes in such struggles ;
and down to our own day nations are being thus enlarged.
Part of Italy is incorporated by France ; part of France is
incorporated by Germany ; part of Turkey is incorporated by
Russia ; and between Russia and England there appears to
be a competition which shall increase most by absorbing
uncivilized and semi-civilized peoples.
Thus, then, with social organisms as with individual
organisms, it is through the struggle for existence, first, by
appropriating one another's means of growth, and then by
devouring one another, that there arise those great aggre
gates which at once make possible high organization, and
require high organization.
§ 44-9. Political integration is in some cases furthered, and
in other cases hindered, by conditions, external and internal.
There are the characters of the environment, and there are
the characters of the men composing the society. We will
glance at them in this order.
How political integration is prevented by an inclemency
of climate, or an infertility of soil, which keeps down popu
lation, was shown in §§ 14 — 21. To the instances there
named may be added that of the Seminoles, who " being so
thinly scattered over a barren desert, they seldom assemble
to take black drink, or deliberate on public matters ;" and,
again, that of certain Snake Indians, of whom Schoolcraft
says, " the paucity of game in this region is, I have little
POLITICAL INTEGRATION. 269
doubt, the cause of the almost entire absence of social organi
zation." We saw, too, that great uniformity of surface, of
mineral products, of flora, of fauna, are impediments ; and
that on the special characters of the flora and fauna, as con
taining species favourable or unfavourable to human welfare,
in part depends the individual prosperity required for social
growth. It was also pointed out that structure of the
habitat, as facilitating or impeding communication, and as
rendering escape easy or hard, has much to do with the size
of the social aggregate formed. To the illustrations before
given, showing that mountain-haunting peoples and peoples
living in deserts and marshes are difficult to consolidate,
while peoples penned in by barriers are consolidated with
facility, I may here add two significant ones not before
noticed. One occurs in the Polynesian islands — Tahiti,
Hawaii, Tonga, Samoa, and the rest — where, restrained
within limits by surrounding seas, the inhabitants have
become united more or less closely into aggregates of con
siderable sizes. The other is furnished by ancient Peru,
where, before the time of the Yncas, semi-civilized com
munities had been formed in valleys separated from each
other " on the coast, by hot, and almost impassable deserts,
and in the interior by lofty mountains, or cold and trackless
punas" And to the implied inability of these peoples to
escape governmental coercion, thus indicated by Squier as a
factor in their civilization, is ascribed, by the ancient Spanish
writer Cieza, the difference between them and the neighbour
ing Indians of Popoyan, who could retreat, " whenever
attacked, to other fertile regions." How, conversely,
the massing of men together is furthered by ease of inteinal
communication within the area occupied, is sufficiently mani
fest. The importance of it is implied by the remark of
Grant concerning Equatorial Africa, that "no jurisdiction
extends over a district which cannot be crossed in three or
four days." And such facts, implying that political integra
tion may increase as the means of going from place to place
270 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
become better, remind us how, from Homan times down
wards, the formation of roads has made larger social aggre
gates possible.
Evidence that a certain type of physique is requisite, was
given in § 16 ; where we saw that the races which have
evolved large societies, had previously lived under conditions
fostering vigour of constitution. I will here add only that
the constitutional energy needed for continuous labour, with
out which there cannot be civilized life and the massing of
men presupposed by it, is an energy not to be quickly
acquired ; but is to be acquired only by inherited modifica
tions slowly accumulated. Good evidence that in lower
types of men there is a physical incapacity for work, is
supplied by the results of the Jesuit government over the
Paraguay Indians. These Indians were reduced to indus
trious habits, and to an orderly life which was thought by
many writers admirable ; but there eventually resulted a
fatal evil: they became infertile. JSTot improbably, the
infertility commonly observed in savage races that have been
led into civilized activities, is consequent on taxing the
physique to a degree greater than it is constituted to bear.
Certain moral traits which favour, and others which hinder,
the union of men into large groups, were pointed out when
treating of " The Primitive Man — Emotional." Here I will
re-illustrate such of these as concern the fitness or unfitness
of the type for subordination. " The Abors, as they them
selves say, are like tigers, two cannot dwell in one den;" and
" their houses are scattered singly, or in groups of two and
three." Conversely, some of the African races not only yield
when coerced but admire one who coerces them. Instance
the Damaras, who, as Gal ton says, "court slavery" and
" follow a master as spaniels would." The like is alleged of
other South Africans. One of them said to a gentleman
known to me — " You're a pretty fellow to be a master ; I've
been with you two years and you've never beaten me once."
Obviously on the dispositions thus strongly contrasted, the
POLITICAL INTEGRATION. 271
impossibility or possibility of political integration largely
depends. There must be added, as also influential, the
presence or the absence of the nomadic instinct. Varieties
of men whose wandering habits have been unchecked during
countless generations of hunting life and pastoral life, show
us that even when forced into agricultural life, their tendency
to move about greatly hinders aggregation. It is thus among
the hill-tribes of India. " The Kookies are naturally a mi
gratory race, never occupying the same place for more than
two or, at the utmost, three years ;" and the like holds of the
Mishmees, who " never name their villages :" the existence of
them being too transitory. In some races this migratory
instinct survives and shows its effects, even after the forma
tion of populous towns. Writing of the Bachassins in 1812,
Burchell says that Litakun, containing 15,000 inhabitants,
had been twice removed during a period of ten years.
Clearly, peoples thus characterized are less easily united into
large societies than peoples who love their early homes.
Concerning the intellectual traits which aid or imp'ede the
cohesion of men into masses, I may supplement what was
said when delineating "The Primitive Man — Intellectual,"
by two corollaries of much significance. Social life being co
operative life, presupposes not only an emotional nature
fitted for cooperation, but also such intelligence as perceives
the benefits of cooperation, and can so regulate actions as to
effect it. The unreflectiveness, the deficient consciousness of
causation, and the lack of constructive imagination, shown by
the uncivilized, hinder combined action to a degree difficult to
believe until proof is seen. Even the semi-civilized exhibit
in quite simple matters an absence of concert which ia
astonishing.* Implying, as this does, that cooperation can
* The behaviour of Arab boatmen on the Nile displays, in a striking way,
this inabilily to act together. When jointly hauling at a rope, and begin
ning to chant, the inference one draws is that they pull in time with their
words. On observing, however, it turns out that their effoi'ts are not com
bined at given intervals, but are put forth without any unity of rhythm.
Similarly when using their poles to push the dahabeiah off a sand-bank, the
76
272 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
at first be effective only where there is obedience to peremp
tory command, it follows that there must be not only an
emotional nature which produces subordination, but also an
intellectual nature which produces faith in a commander. That
credulity which leads to awe of the capable man as a pos
sessor of supernatural power, and which afterwards, causing
dread of his ghost, prompts fulfilment of his remembered
injunctions — that credulity which initiates the religious con
trol of a deified chief, re-inforcing the political control of his
divine descendant, is a credulity which cannot be dispensed
with during early stages of integration. Scepticism is fatal
while the character, moral and intellectual, is such as to
necessitate compulsory cooperation.
Political integration, then, hindered in many regions by
environing conditions, has in many races of mankind been
prevented from advancing far by unfitnesses of nature —
phvsical, moral, and intellectual.
§ 450. Besides fitness of nature in the united individuals,
social union requires a considerable homogeneity of nature
among them. At the outset this needful likeness of kind is
insured by greater or less kinship in blood. Evidence meets
us everywhere among the uncivilized. Of the Bushmen,
Lichtenstein says, "families alone form associations in single
small hordes — sexual feelings, the instinctive love to children,
or the customary attachment among relations, are the only
ties that keep them in any sort of union/' Again, "the
Eock Veddahs are divided into small clans or families asso
ciated for relationship, who agree in partitioning the forest
succession of grunts they severally make, is so rapid that it is manifestly
impossible for them to give those effectual united pushes which imply
appreciable intervals of preparation. Still more striking is the want of con
cert shown by the hundred or more Nubians and Arabs employed to drag
the vessel up the rapids. There are shoutings, gesticulations, divided actions,
utter confusion ; so that only by accident does it at length happen that a
sufficient number of efforts are put forth at the same moment. As was said
to me, with some exaggeration, by our Arab dragoman, a travelled mau
— " Ten Englishmen or Frenchmen would do the thing at once."
POLITICAL INTEGRATION. 273
among themselves for hunting grounds." And this rise of
the society out of the family, seen in these least organized
groups, re-appears in the considerably organized groups of
more advanced savages. Instance the New Zealanders, of
whom we read that " eighteen historical nations occupy the
country, each being sub-divided into many tribes, originally
families, as the prefix Ngati, signifying offspring (equivalent
to 0 or Mac) obviously indicates." This connexion between
blood relationship and social union is well shown by
Humboldt's remarks concerning South American Indians.
" Savages," he says, " know only their own family, and a tribe
appears to them but a more numerous assemblage of rela
tions." When Indians who inhabit the missions see those of
the forest, who are unknown to them, they say — " They are
no doubt my relations ; I understand them when they speak
to me." But these same savages detest all who are not of
their tribe. " They know the duties of family ties and of
relationship, but not those of humanity."
When treating of the domestic relations, reasons were
given for concluding that social stability increases as kinships
become more definite and extended ; since development of
kinships, while insuring the likeness of nature which furthers
cooperation, involves the strengthening and multiplication
of those family bonds which check disruption. Where pro
miscuity is prevalent, or where marriages are temporary, the
known relationships are relatively few and not close ; and
there is little more social cohesion than results from habit
and vague sense of kinship. Polyandry, especially of the
higher kind, produces relationships of some defmiteness,
which admit of being traced further : so serving better to tie
the social group together. And a greater advance in the
nearness and the number of family connexions results from
P°lygTny- But, as was shown, it is from monogamy that
there arise family connexions which are at once the most
definite and the most wide-spreading in their ramifications ;
and out of monogamic families are developed the largest and
274 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
most coherent societies. In two allied, yet distinguishable,
ways, does monogamy favour social solidarity.
Unlike the children of the polyandric family, who are
something less than half brothers and sisters (see § 300, note),
and unlike the children of the polygynic family, most of
whom are only half brothers and sisters, the children of the
nionogainic family are, in the great majority of cases, all of
the same blood on both sides. Being thus themselves more
closely related, it follows that their clusters of children are
more closely related ; and where, as happens in early stages,
these clusters of children when grown up continue to form a
community, and labour together, they are united alike by
their kinships and by their industrial interests. Though
with the growth of a family group into a gens which spreads,
the industrial interests divide, yet these kinships prevent the
divisions from becoming as marked as they would otherwise
become. And, similarly, when the gens, in course of time,
develops into the tribe. Nor is this all. If local cir
cumstances bring together several such tribes, which are still
allied in blood though more remotely, it results that when,
seated side by side, they are gradually fused, partly by inter-
spersion and partly by intermarriage, the compound society
formed, united by numerous and complicated links of kin
ship as well as by political interests, is more strongly bound
together than it would otherwise be. Dominant ancient
societies illustrate this truth. Says Grote — "All that we
hear of the most ancient Athenian laws is based upon the
gentile and phratric divisions, which are treated throughout
as extensions of the family." Similarly, according to Momm-
sen, on the " Eoman Household was based the Eoman
State, both as respected its constituent elements and its form.
The community of the Eoman people arose out of the junc
tion (in whatever way brought about) of such ancient clan
ships as the Eomilii, Voltinii, Fabii, &c." And Sir Henry
Maine has shown in detail the ways in which the simple
family passes into the house-community, and eventually the
POLITICAL INTEGRATION. 275
village-community. Though, in presence of the
evidence furnished by races having irregular sexual relations,
we cannot allege that sameness of blood is the primary
reason for political cooperation — though in numerous tribes
which have not risen into the pastoral state, there is com
bination for offence and defence among those whose different
totems are recognized marks of different bloods ; yet where
there has been established descent through males, and
especially where monogamy prevails, sameness of blood
becomes largely, if not mainly, influential in determining
political cooperation. And this truth, under one of its
aspects, is the truth above enunciated, that combined action,
requiring a tolerable homogeneity of nature among those who
carry it on, is, in early stages, most successful among those
who, being descendants of the same ancestors, have the
greatest likeness.
An all-important though less direct effect of blood-relation
ship, and especially that more definite blood-relationship
which arises from monogamic marriage, has to be added. I
mean community of religion — a likeness of ideas and senti
ments embodied in the worship of a common deity. Begin
ning, as this does, with propitiation of the deceased
founder of the family ; and shared in, as it is, by the multi
plying groups of descendants, as the family spreads ; it
becomes a further means of holding together the compound
cluster gradually formed, and checking the antagonisms that
arise between the component clusters : so favouring integra
tion. The influence of the bond supplied by a common cult
everywhere meets us in ancient history. Each of the cities
in primitive Egypt was a centre for the worship of a special
divinity ; and no one who, unbiassed by foregone conclusions,
observes the extraordinary development of ancestor-worship,
under all its forms, in Egypt, can doubt the origin of this
divinity. Of the Greeks we read that —
"Each family had its own sacred rites and funereal commemoration
of ancestors, celebrated by the master of the house, to which none but
members of the family were admissible : the extinction of a family,
276 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
carrying with it the suspension of these religious rites, was held by the
Greeks to be a misfortune, not merely from the loss of the citizens
composing it, but also because the family gods and the manes of
deceased citizens were thus deprived of their honours and might visit
the country with displeasure. The larger associations, called Gens,
Phratry, Tribe, were formed by an extension of the same principle —
of the family considered as a religious brotherhood, worshipping some
common god or hero with an appropriate surname, and recognizing him
as their joint ancestor."
A like bond was generated in a like manner in the Eoman
community. Each curia, which was the homologue of the
phratry, had a head, " whose chief function was to preside
over the sacrifices." And, on a larger scale, the same thing
held with the entire society. The primitive Eoman king was
a priest of the deities common to all : " he held intercourse
with the gods of the community, whom he consulted and
whom he appeased." The beginnings of this religious bond,
here exhibited in a developed form, are still traceable in
India. Sir Henry Maine says, " the joint family of the
Hindoos is that assemblage of persons who would have
joined in the sacrifices at the funeral of some common
ancestor if he had died in their lifetime." So that political
integration, while furthered by that likeness of nature which
identity of descent involves, is again furthered by that like
ness of religion simultaneously arising from this identity of
descent.
Thus is it, too, at a later stage, with that less-pronounced
likeness of nature characterizing men of the same race who
have multiplied and spread in such ways as to form adjacent
small societies. Cooperation among them continues to be
furthered, though less effectually, by the community of their
natures, by the community of their traditions, ideas, and
sentiments, as well as by their community of speech. Among
men of diverse types, concert is necessarily hindered
both by ignorance of one another's words, and by unlike-
nesses of thought and feeling. It needs but to remember
how often, even among those of the same family, quarrela
arise from misinterpretations of things said, to see what
POLITICAL INTEGRATION. 277
fertile sources of confusion and antagonism must be the
partial or complete differences of language which habitually
accompany differences of race. Similarly, those who are
widely unlike in their emotional natures or in their intellec
tual natures, perplex one another by unexpected conduct — a
fact on which travellers habitually remark. Hence a further
obstacle to combined action. Diversities of custom, too,
become causes of dissension. Where a food eaten by one
people is regarded by another with disgust, where an animal
held sacred by the one is by the other treated with contempt,
where a salute which the one expects is never made by the
other, there must be continually generated alienations which
hinder joint efforts. Other things equal, facility of coopera
tion will be proportionate to the amount of fellow feeling ;
and fellow feeling is prevented by whatever prevents men
from behaving in the same ways under the same conditions.
The working together of the original and derived factors
above enumerated, is well exhibited in the following passage
from Grote : —
"The Hellens were all of common blood and parentage, were all
descendants of the common patriarch Hellen. In treating of the his
torical Greeks, we have to accept this as a datum ; it represents the
sentiment under the influence of which they moved and acted. It is
placed by Herodotus in the front rank, as the chief of those four ties
which bound together the Hellenic aggregate : 1. Fellowship of blood ;
2. Fellowship of language ; 3. Fixed domiciles of gods, and sacrifices
common to all ; 4. Like manners and dispositions."
Influential as we thus find to be the likeness of nature
which is insured by common descent, the implication is that,
in the absence of considerable likeness, the political aggre
gates formed are unstable, and can be maintained only by a
coercion which, some time or other, is sure to fail. Though
other causes have conspired, yet this has doubtless been a
main cause of the dissolution of great empires in past ages.
At the present time the decay of the Turkish Empire is
largely, if not chiefly, ascribable to it. Our own Indian
Empire too, held together by force in a state of artificial
278 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
equilibrium, threatens some day to illustrate by its fall the
incohesion arising from lack of congruity in components.
§ 451, One of the laws of evolution at large, is that inte
gration results when like units are subject to the same force
or to like forces (First Principles, § 169) ; and from the first
stages of political integration up to the last, we find this law
illustrated. Joint exposure to uniform external actions, and
joint reactions against them, have from the beginning been
the leading causes of union among members of societies.
Already in § 250 there has been indirectly implied the
truth that coherence is first given to small hordes of primitive
men during combined opposition to enemies. Subject to the
same danger, and joining to meet this danger, the members of
the horde become, in the course of their cooperation against
it, more bound together. In the first stages this relation of
cause and effect is clearly seen in the fact that such union as
arises during a war, disappears when the war is over : there
is loss of all such slight political combination as was begin
ning to show itself. But it is by the integration of simple
groups into compound groups in the course of common re
sistance to foes, and attacks upon them, that this process is
best exemplified. The cases before given may be reinforced
by others. Of the Karens, Mason says: — "Each village,
being an independent community, had always an old feud to
settle with nearly every other village among their own people.
But the common danger from more powerful enemies, or
having common injuries to requite, often led to several villages
uniting together for defence or attack." According to Kolben,
" smaller nations of Hottentots, which may be near some
powerful nation, frequently enter into an alliance, offensive
and defensive, against the stronger nation." Among the New
Caledonians of Tanna, " six, or eight, or more of their villages
unite, and form what may be called a district, or county, and
all league together for mutual protection In war
two or more of these districts unite." Samoan " villages, in
POLITICAL INTEGRATION. 279
numbers of eight or ten, unite by common consent, and form
a district or state for mutual protection ;" and during hosti
lities these districts themselves sometimes unite in twos and
threes. The like has happened with historic peoples.
It was during the wars of the Israelites in David's time, that
they passed from the state of separate tribes into the state of
a consolidated ruling nation. The scattered Greek communi
ties, previously aggregated into minor confederacies by minor
wars, were prompted to the Pan-Hellenic congress and to the
subsequent cooperation, when the invasion of Xerxes was
impending ; and of the Spartan and Athenian confederacies
afterwards formed, that of Athens acquired the hegemony,
and finally the empire, during continued operations against
the Persians. So, too, was it with the Teutonic races.
The German tribes, originally without federal bonds, formed
occasional alliances for opposing enemies. Between the
first and fifth centuries these tribes massed themselves into
great groups for resistance against, or attack upon, Eome.
During the subsequent century the prolonged military con
federations of peoples " of the same blood " had grown into
States, which afterwards became aggregated into still larger
States. And, to take a comparatively modern instance, the
wars between France and England aided each in passing
from that condition in which its feudal divisions were in
considerable degrees independent, to the condition of a con
solidated nation. As further showing how integration
of smaller societies into larger ones is thus initiated, it may
be added that at first the unions exist only for military pur
poses. Each component society retains for a long time its
independent internal administration ; and it is only when
joint action in war has become habitual, that the cohesion is
made permanent by a common political organization.
This compounding of smaller communities into larger by
military cooperation, is insured by the disappearance of such
smaller communities as do not cooperate. Barth remarks
that '' the Fiilbe [Fulahs] are continually advancing, as they
280 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
have not to do with one strong enemy, but with a number of
small tribes without any bond of union." Of the Damaras,
Galton says — a If one werft is plundered, the adjacent ones
rarely rise to defend it, and thus the Namaquas have de
stroyed or enslaved piecemeal about one-half of the whole
Damara population." Similarly with the Ynca conquests in
Peru : " there was no general opposition to their advance,
for each province merely defended its land without aid from
any other." This process, so obvious and familiar, I name
because it has a meaning which needs emphasizing. For we
here see that in the struggle for existence among societies,
the survival of the fittest is the survival of those in which
the power of military cooperation is the greatest ; and mili
tary cooperation is that primary kind of cooperation which
prepares the way for other kinds. So that this formation of
larger societies by the union of smaller ones in war, and this
destruction or absorption of the smaller un-united societies by
the united larger ones, is an inevitable process through which
the varieties of men most adapted for social life, supplant the
less adapted varieties.
Eespecting the integration thus effected, it remains only to
remark that it necessarily follows this course — necessarily
begins with the formation of simple groups and advances by
the compounding and re-compounding of them. Impulsive
in conduct and with rudimentary powers of concerted action,
savages cohere so slightly that only small bodies of them
can maintain their integrity. Not until such small bodies
have severally had their members bound to one another by
some slight political organization, does it become possible to
unite them into larger bodies; since the cohesion of these
implies greater fitness for concerted action, and more de
veloped organization for achieving it. And similarly, these
composite clusters must be to some extent consolidated before
the composition can be carried a stage further. Pass
ing over the multitudinous illustrations occurring among the
uncivilized, it will suffice if I refer to those given in § 220,
POLITICAL INTEGRATION. 281
and reinforce them by some which historic peoples have
supplied. There is the fact that in primitive Egypt, the
numerous small societies (which eventually became the
" nomes") first united into the two aggregates, Upper Egypt
and Lower Egypt, which were afterwards joined into one ;
and the fact that in ancient Greece, villages became united to
form towns before the towns became united into states, while
this change preceded the change which united the states with
one another ; and the fact that in the old English period,
small principalities were massed into the divisions constitut
ing the Heptarchy, before these passed into something like a
whole. It is a principle in physics that, since the
force with which a body resists strains increases as the squares
of its dimensions, while the strains which its own weight
subject it to increase as the cubes of its dimensions, its power
of maintaining its integrity becomes relatively less as its
mass becomes greater. Something analogous may be said of
societies. Small aggregates only can hold together while
cohesion is feeble ; and successively larger aggregates become
possible only as the greater strains implied are met by that
greater cohesion which results from an adapted human nature
and a resulting development of social organization.
§ 452. As social integration advances, the increasing aggre
gates exercise increasing restraints over their units — a truth
which is the obverse of the one just set forth, that the main
tenance of its integrity by a larger aggregate implies greater
cohesion. The forces by which aggregates keep their units
together are at first feeble ; and becoming strenuous at a
certain stage of social evolution afterwards relax — or rather,
change their forms.
Originally the individual savage gravitates to one group or
other, prompted by sundry motives, but mainly by the desire
for protection. Concerning the Patagonians, we read that no
one can live apart : " if any of them attempted to do it, they
would undoubtedly be killed, or carried away as slaves, aa
232 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
soon as they were discovered." In Xorth America, ainoug
the Chinooks, " on the coast a custom prevails which autho
rizes the seizure and enslavement, unless ransomed by his
friends, of every Indian met with at a distance from his
tribe, although they may not be at war with each other." At
first, however, though it is necessary to join some group, it is
not necessary to continue in the same group. When oppressed
by their chief, Kalmucks and Mongols desert him and go over
to other chiefs. Of the Abipones Dobrizhoffer says : — " With
out leave asked on their part, or displeasure evinced on his,
they remove with their families whithersoever it suits them,
and join some other cacique ; and when tired of the second,
return with impunity to the horde of the first." Similarly in
South Africa, " the frequent instances which occur [among
the Balonda] of people changing from one part of the country
to another, show that the great chiefs possess only a limited
power." And how, through this process, some tribes grow
while others dwindle, we are shown by M'Culloch's remark
respecting the Kukis, that " a village, having around it plenty
of land suited for cultivation and a popular chief, is sure
soon, by accessions from less favoured ones, to become large."
With the need which the individual has for protection, is
joined the desire of the tribe to strengthen itself; and the
practice of adoption, hence resulting, constitutes another
mode of integration. Where, as in tribes of Xorth American
Indians, "adoption or the torture were the alternative
chances of a captive" (adoption being the fate of one admired
for his bravery), we see re-illustrated the tendency which
each society has to grow at the expense of other societies.
That desire for many actual children whereby the family
may be strengthened, which Hebrew traditions show us,
readily passes into the desire for factitious children — here
made one with the brotherhood by exchange of blood, and
there by mock birth. As was implied in § 319, it is probable
that the practice of adoption into families among Greeks and
Romans, arose during those early times when the wandering
POLITICAL HTTEGRATIOy. 283
patriarchal group constituted the tribe, and when the wish
of the tribe to strengthen itself was dominant ; though it w as
doubtless afterwards maintained chiefly by the wish to have
someone to continue the sacrifices to ancestors. And, indeed,
on remembering that, long after larger societies were formed
by unions of patriarchal groups, there continued to be feuds
between the component families and clans, we may see that
there hail never ceased to operate on such families and clans,
the primitive motive for strengthening themselves by increas
ing their numbers.
Kindred motives produced kindred results within more
modern societies, during times when their parts were so im
perfectly integrated that there remained antagonisms among
them Thus we have the fact that in mediaeval England,
while local rule was incompletely subordinated to general
rule, every free man had to attach himself to a lord, a burgh,
or a guild : being otherwise " a friendless man," and in a
danger like that which the savage is in when not belonging
to a tribe. And then, on the other hand, in the law that
" if a bondsman continued a year and a day within a free
burgh or municipality, no lord could reclaim him," we may
recognize an effect of a desire on the part of industrial groups
to strengthen themselves against the feudal groups around —
an effect analogous to that of adoption, here into the savage
tribe and there into the family as it existed in more ancient
societies. Xaturally, as a whole nation becomes more in
tegrated, local integrations lose their separateness, and their
divisions fade ; though they long leave their traces, as among
ourselves in the law of settlement, and as, up to 182-i, in the
kws affecting the freedom of travelling of artisans.
These last illustrations introduce us to the truth that while
at first there is little cohesion and great mobility of the units
forming a group, advance in integration is habitually accom
panied not only by decreasing ability to go from group to
group, but also by decreasing ability to go from place to
place within the group. Of course the transition from the
284 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
nomadic to the settled state partially implies this ; since
each person becomes in a considerable degree tied by his
material interests. Slavery, too, effects in another way this
binding of individuals to locally-placed members of the
society, and therefore to particular parts to it; and, where
serfdom exists, the same thing is shown with a difference.
But in highly-integrated societies, not simply those in
bondage, but others also, are tied to their localities. Of the
ancient Mexicans, Zurita says : — " The Indians never changed
their village nor even their quarter. This custom was
observed as a law." In ancient Peru, " it was not lawful for
any one to remove from one province, or village, to another ; "
and " any who travelled without just cause were punished as
vagabonds." Elsewhere, along with that development of the
militant type accompanying aggregation, there have been
imposed restraints on transit under other forms. Ancient
Egypt had a system of registration ; and all citizens periodi
cally reported themselves to local officers. " Every Japanese
is registered, and whenever he removes his residence, the
Nanushi, or head man of the temple gives a certificate."
And then, in despotically-governed European countries we
have passports-systems, hindering the journeys of citizens
from place to place, and in some cases preventing them from
going abroad.
In these, as in other respects, however, the restraints which
the social aggregate exercises over its units, decrease as the
industrial type begins greatly to qualify the militant type ;
partly because the societies characterized by industralism are
amply populous, and have superfluous members to fill the
places of those who leave them, and partly because, in the
alienee of the oppressions accompanying a militant regime, a
sufficient cohesion results from pecuniary interests, family
bonds, and love of country.
§ 453. Thus, saying nothing for the present of that political
evolution manifested by increase of structure, and restricting
POLITICAL INTEGRATION. 285
ourselves to that political evolution manifested by increase of
mass, here distinguished as political integration, we find that
this has the following traits.
While the aggregates are small, the incorporation of
materials for growth is carried on at one another's expense in
feeble ways — by taking one another's game, by robbing one
another of women, and, occasionally by adopting one another's
men. As larger aggregates are formed, incorporations pro
ceed in more wholesale ways ; first by enslaving the separate
members of conquered tribes, and presently by the bodily
annexation of such tribes, with their territory. And as com
pound aggregates pass into doubly and trebly compound
ones, there arise increasing desires to absorb adjacent smaller
societies, and so to form still larger aggregates.
Conditions of several kinds further or hinder social growth
and consolidation. The habitat may be fitted or unfitted for
supporting a large population ; or it may, by great or small
facilities for intercourse within its area, favour or impede co
operation ; or it may, by presence or absence of natural
barriers, make easy or difficult the keeping together of the
individuals under that coercion which is at first needful.
And, as the antecedents of the race determine, the indi
viduals may have in greater or less degrees the physical,
the emotional, and the intellectual natures fitting them for
combined action.
While the extent to which social integration can in each
case be carried, depends in part on these conditions, it also
depends in part upon the degree of likeness among the units.
At first, while the nature is so little moulded to social life
that cohesion is small, aggregation is largely dependent on
ties of blood : implying great degrees of likeness. Groups in
which such ties, and the resulting congruity, are most
marked, and which, having family traditions in common, a
common male ancestor, and a joint worship of him, are in
these further ways made alike in ideas and sentiments, are
groups in which the greatest social cohesion and power of co-
286 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
operation arise. Tor a long time the clans and tribes de
scending from such primitive patriarchal groups, have their
political concert facilitated by this bond of relationship and
the likeness it involves. Only after adaptation to social life
has made considerable progress, does harmonious cooperation
among those who are not of the same stock become practi
cable ; and even then their unlikenesses of nature must be
small. Where their unlikenesses of nature are great, the
society, held together only by force, tends to disintegrate
when the force fails.
Likeness in the units forming a social group being one
condition to their integration, a further condition is their
joint reaction against external action : cooperation in war is
the chief cause of social integration. The temporary unions
of savages for offence and defence, show us the initiatory
step. When many tribes unite against a common enemy,
long continuance of their combined action makes them
coherent under some common control. And so it is subse
quently with still larger aggregates.
Progress in social integration is both a cause and a con
sequence of a decreasing separableness among the units.
Primitive wandering hordes exercise no such restraints over
their members as prevent them individually from leaving one
horde and joining another at will. Where tribes are more
developed, desertion of one and admission into another are
less easy — the assemblages are not so loose in composition.
And throughout those long stages during which societies are
being enlarged and consolidated by militancy, the mobility of
the units becomes more and more restricted. Only with that
substitution of voluntary cooperation for compulsory co
operation which characterizes developing industrialism, do
the restrictions on movement disappear : enforced union
being in such societies adequately replaced by spontaneous
union.
A remaining truth to be named is that political integration,
as it advances, obliterates the original divisions among the
POLITICAL INTEGRATION. 287
united parts. In the first place there is the slow disappear
ance of those non-topographical divisions arising from rela
tionship, as seen in separate gentes and tribes : gradual inter
mingling destroys them. In the second place, the smaller
local societies united into a larger one, which at first retain
their separate organizations, lose them by long cooperation :
a common organization begins to ramify through them. And
in the third place, there simultaneously results a fading of
their topographical bounds, and a replacing of these by
the new administrative bounds of the common organiza
tion. Hence naturally results the converse truth,
that in the course of social dissolution the great groups
separate first, and afterwards, if dissolution continues, these
separate into their component smaller groups. Instance the
ancient empires successively formed in the East, the united
kingdoms of which severally resumed their autonomies when
the coercion keeping them together ceased. Instance, again,
the Carolingian empire, which, first parting into its large
divisions, became in course of time further disintegrated by
subdivision of these. And where, as in this last case, the
process of dissolution goes very far, there is a return to some
thing like the primitive condition, under which small preda
tory societies are engaged in continuous warfare with like
small societies around them.
77
CHAPTER IV.
POLITICAL DIFFERENTIATION".
§ 454. As was pointed out in First Principles, § 154, it is
true of a social aggregate, as of every other aggregate, that
the state of homogeneity is an unstable state; and that
where there is already some heterogeneity, the tendency is
towards greater heterogeneity.
Lapse from homogeneity, however, or rather, the increase
of such heterogeneity as usually exists, requires that the
parts shall be heterogeneously conditioned; and whatever
prevents the rise of contrasts among the conditions, prevents
increase of heterogeneity. One of the implications is that
there must not be continual changes in the distribution of
the parts. If now one part and now another, occupies the
same position in relation to the whole, permanent structural
differences cannot be produced. There must be such cohesion
among the parts as prevents easy transposition.
We see this truth exemplified in the simplest individual
organisms. A low Rhizopod, of which the substance has a
mobility approaching to that of a liquid, remains almost
homogeneous ; because each part is from moment to moment
assuming new relations to other parts and to the environ
ment. And the like holds with the simplest societies.
Concern ing the members of the small unsettled groups of
Fuegians, Cook remarks that " none was more respected than
another." The Veddahs, the Andamanese, the Australians,
the Tasmanians, may also be instanced as loose assemblages
POLITICAL DIFFERENTIATION. 289
which present no permanent unlikenesses of social position ;
or if unlikeness exist, as some travellers allege, they are so
vague that they are denied by others. And in such wander
ing hordes as the Coroados of South America, formed of
individuals held together so feebly that they severally join
one or other horde at will, the distinctions of parts are but
nominal.
Conversely, it is to be anticipated that where the several
parts of a social aggregate are heterogeneously conditioned in
a permanent way, they will become proportionately hetero
geneous. We shall see this more clearly on changing the
point of view.
§ 455. The general law that like units exposed to like
forces tend to integrate, was in the last chapter exemplified
by the formation of social groups. Here the correlative
general law, that in proportion as the like units of an aggregate
are exposed to unlike forces they tend to form differentiated
parts of the aggregate, has to be observed in its application to
such groups, as the second step in social evolution.
The primary political differentiation originates from the
primary family differentiation. Men and women being by
the unlikenesses of their functions in life, exposed to unlike
influences, begin from the first to assume unlike positions in
the community as they do in the family : very early they
respectively form the two political classes of rulers and
ruled. And how truly such dissimilarity of social positions
as arises between them, is caused by dissimilarity in their
relations to surrounding actions, we shall see on observing
that the one is small or great according as the other is small
or great. When treating of the status of women, it was
pointed out that to a considerable degree among the Chippe-
wayans, and to a still greater degree among the Clatsops and
Chinooks, " who live upon fish and roots, which the women
are equally expert with the men in procuring, the former have
a rank and influence very rarely found among Indians." We
290 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
saw also that in Cueba, where the women join the men in
war, " fighting by their side/' their position is much higher
than usual among rude peoples; and, similarly, that in
Dahomey, where the women are as much warriors as the men,
they are so regarded that, in the political organization, " the
woman is officially superior." On contrasting these excep
tional cases with the ordinary cases, in which the men, solely
occupied in war and the chase, have unlimited authority,
while the women, occupied in gathering miscellaneous small
food and carrying burdens, are abject slaves, it becomes clear
that diversity of relations to surrounding actions initiates
diversity of social relations. And, as we saw in § 327, this
truth is further illustrated by those few uncivilized societies
which are habitually peaceful, such as the Bodo and the
Dhimals of the Indian hills, and the ancient Pueblos of North
America — societies in which the occupations are not, or were
not, broadly divided into fighting and working, and severally
assigned to the two sexes ; and in which, along with a com
paratively small difference between the activities of the sexes,
there goes, or went, small difference of social status.
So is it when we pass from the greater or less political
differentiation which accompanies difference of sex, to that
which is independent of sex — to that which arises among
men. Where the life is permanently peaceful, definite class-
divisions do not exist. One of the Indian Hill-tribes to
which I have already referred as exhibiting the honesty,
truthfulness, and amiability, accompanying a purely indus
trial life, may be instanced. Hodgson says, "all Bodo and
all Dhimals are equal — absolutely so in right or law —
wonderfully so in fact." The like is said of another unwar-
like and amiable hill tribe : " the Lepchas have no caste dis
tinctions." And among a different race, the Papuans, may
be named the peaceful Arafuras as displaying "brotherly
love with one another," and as having no divisions of rank.
§456. As, at first, the domestic relation between the sexea
POLITICAL DIFFERENTIATION. 291
passes into a political relation, such that men and women
become, in militant groups, the ruling class and the subject
class ; so does the relation between master and slave, origin
ally a domestic one, pass into a political one as fast as, by
habitual war, the making of slaves becomes general. It is
with the formation of a slave-class, that there begins that
political differentiation between the regulating structures and
the sustaining structures, which continues throughout all
higher forms of social evolution.
Kane remarks that " slavery in its most cruel form exists
among the Indians of the whole coast from California to
Behring's Straits, the stronger tribes making slaves of all the
others they can conquer. In the interior, where there is but
little warfare, slavery does not exist." And this statement
does but exhibit, in a distinct form, the truth everywhere
obvious. Evidence suggests that the practice of enslavement
diverged by small steps from the practice of cannibalism.
Concerning the Nootkas, we read that " slaves are occasion
ally sacrificed and feasted upon;" and if we contrast this
usage with the usage common elsewhere, of killing and
devouring captives as soon as they are taken, we may infer
that the keeping of captives too numerous to be immediately
eaten, with the view of eating them subsequently, leading, as
it would, to the employment of them in the meantime, caused
the discovery that their services might be of more value
than their flesh, and so initiated the habit of preserving
them as slaves. Be this as it may, however, we find that
very generally among tribes to which habitual militancy has
given some slight degree of the appropriate structure, the
enslavement of prisoners becomes an established habit. That
women and children taken in war, and such men as have not
l.«een slain, naturally fall into unqualified servitude, is mani
fest. They belong absolutely to their captors, who might
have killed them, and who retain the right afterwards to kill
them if they please. They become property, of which any
use whatever may be made.
292 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
The acquirement of slaves, which is at first an incident of
war, becomes presently an object of war. Of the ISTootkas we
read that " some of the smaller tribes at the north of the
island are practically regarded as slave-breeding tribes, and
are attacked periodically by stronger tribes ;" and the like
happens among the Chinooks. It was thus in ancient
Vera Paz, where periodically they made "an inroad into
the enemy's territory . . . and captured as many as they
wanted ;" and it was so in Honduras, where, in declaring war,
they gave their enemies notice " that they wanted slaves."
Similarly with various existing peoples. St. John says that
" many of the Dyaks are more desirous to obtain slaves than
heads ; and in attacking a village kill only those who resist
or attempt to escape." And that in Africa slave-making
wars are common needs no proof.
The class-division thus initiated by war, afterwards main
tains and strengthens itself in sundry ways. Very soon there
begins the custom of purchase. The Chinooks, besides slaves
who have been captured, have slaves who were bought as
children from their neighbours ; and, as we saw when dealing
with the domestic relations, the selling of their children into
slavery is by no means uncommon with savages. Then the
slave-class, thus early enlarged by purchase, comes afterwards
to be otherwise enlarged. There is voluntary acceptance of
slavery for the sake of protection ; there is enslavement for
debt ; there is enslavement for crime.
Leaving details, we need here note only that this political
differentiation which war begins, is effected, not by the bodily
incorporation of other societies, or whole classes belonging to
other societies, but by the incorporation of single members
of other societies, and by like individual accretions. Com
posed of units who are detached from their original social
relations and from one another, and absolutely attached to
their owners, the slave-class is, at first, but indistinctly
separated as a social stratum. It acquires separateness only
as fast as there arise some restrictions on the powers of the
POLITICAL DIFFERENTIATION. 293
owners. Ceasing to stand in the position of domestic cattle,
slaves begin to form a division of the body politic when their
personal claims begin to be distinguished as limiting the
claims of their masters.
§ 457. It is commonly supposed that serfdom arises by
mitigation of slavery ; but examination of the facts shows that
it arises in a different way. While, during the early struggles
for existence between them, primitive tribes, growing at one
another's expense by incorporating separately the individuals
they capture, thus form a class of absolute slaves, the formation
of a servile class considerably higher, and having a distinct
social status, accompanies that later and larger process of
growth under which one society incorporates other societies
bodily. Serfdom originates along with conquest and annexa
tion.
For whereas the one implies that the captured people are
detached from their homes, the other implies that the subju
gated people continue in their homes. Thomson remarks
that, " among the New Zealanders whole tribes sometimes
became nominally slaves when conquered, although permitted
to live at their usual places of residence, on condition of
paying tribute, in food, &c." — a statement which shows the
origin of kindred arrangements in allied societies. Of the
Sandwich Islands government when first known, described as
consisting of a king with turbulent chiefs, who had been sub
jected in comparatively recent times, Ellis writes: — "The
common people are generally considered as attached to the
soil, and are transferred with the land from one chief to
another." Before the late changes in Fiji, there were enslaved
districts ; and of their inhabitants we read that they had to
supply the chiefs' houses " with daily food, and build and
keep them in repair." Though conquered peoples thus
placed, differ widely in the degrees of their subjection (being
at the one extreme, as in Fiji, liable to be eaten when wanted,
and at the other extreme called on only to give specified pro
294 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
portions of produce or labour) ; yet they remain alike as being
undetached from their original places of residence. That
serfdom in Europe originated in an analogous way, there is
good reason to believe. In Greece we have the case of Crete,
where, under the conquering Dorians, there existed a vassal
population, formed, it would seem, partly of the aborigines
and partly of preceding conquerors ; of which the first were
serfs attached to lands of the State and of individuals, and the
others had become tributary landowners. In Sparta the like
relations were established by like causes. There were the
helots, who lived on, and cultivated, the lands of their
Spartan masters, and the perioeci, who had probably been,
before the Dorian invasion, the superior class. So was it also
in the Greek colonies afterwards founded, such as Syracuse,
where the aborigines became serfs. Similarly in later times
and nearer regions. When Gaul was overrun by the Eomans,
and again when Eomanized Gaul was overrun by the Franks,
there was little displacement of the actual cultivators of the
soil, but these simply fell into lower positions : certainly
lower political positions, and M. Guizot thinks lower indus
trial positions. Our own country yields illustrations.
" Among the Scottish Highlanders some entire septs or clans are
stated to have been enslaved to others ; and on the very threshold of
Irish history we meet with a distinction between free and rent-paying
tribes, which may possibly imply the same kind of superiority and sub
ordination."
In ancient British times, writes Pearson, " it is probable that,
in parts at least, there were servile villages, occupied by a
kindred but conquered race, the first occupants of the soil."
More trustworthy is the evidence which comes to us from
old English days and Norman days. Professor Stubbs says —
" The ceorl had his right in the common land of his township ; his Latin
name, villanus, had been a symbol of freedom, but his privileges were
bound to the land, and when the Norman lord took the land he took
the villein with it. Still the villein retained his customary rights, his
house and land and rights of wood and hay ; his lord's demesne depended
for cultivation on his services, and he had in his lord's sense of self-
interest the sort of protection that was shared by the horse and the ox.*
POLITICAL DIFFERENTIATION. 295
And of kindred import is the following passage from Innes: — •
" I have said that of the inhabitants of the Grange, the lowest in the
scale was the ceorl, bond, serfj or villein, who was transferred like the
laud on which he laboured, and who might be caught and brought
back if he attempted to escape, like a stray ox or sheep. Their legal
name of nativus, or neyfy which I have not found but in Britain, seems
to point to their origin in the native race, the original possessors of the
soil. ... In the register of Dunf ermline are numerous ' genealogies,' or
stud-books, for enabling the lord to trace and reclaim his stock of serf a
by descent. It is observable that most of them are of Celtic names."
Clearly, a subjugated territory, useless without cultivators,
was left in the hands of the original cultivators, because
nothing was to be gained by putting others in their places ;
even could an adequate number of others be had. Hence,
while it became the conqueror's interest to tie each original
cultivator to the soil, it also became his interest to let him
have such an amount of produce as to maintain him and
enable him to rear offspring, and it further became his interest
to protect him against injuries which would incapacitate him
for work.
To show how fundamental is the distinction between bondage
of the primitive type and the bondage of serfdom, it needs but
to add that while the one can, and does, exist among savages
and pastoral tribes, the other becomes possible only after the
agricultural stage is reached ; for only then can there occur the
bodily annexation of one society by another, and only then
can there be any tying to the soil.
§ 458. Associated men who live by hunting, and to whom
the area occupied is of value only as a habitat for game, can
not well have anything more than a common participation iii
the use of this occupied area : such ownership of it as they
have, must be joint ownership. Naturally, then, at the outset
all the adult males, who are at once hunters and warriors,
are the common possessors of the undivided land, encroach
ment on which by other tribes they resist. Though, in the
earlier pastoral state, especially where the barrenness of the
296 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
region involves wide dispersion, there is no definite pro
prietorship of the tract wandered over ; yet, as is shown us ill
the strife between the herdsmen of Abraham and those of Lot
respecting feeding grounds, some claims to exclusive use tend
to arise; and at a later half-pastoral stage, as among the
ancient Germans, the wanderings of each division fall within
prescribed limits.
I refer to these facts by way of showing the identity esta
blished at the outset between the militant class and the land
owning class. For whether the group is one which lives by
hunting or one which lives by feeding cattle, any slaves its
members possess are excluded from land-ownership : the free
men, who are all fighting men, become, as a matter of course,
the proprietors of their territory. This connexion in variously
modified forms, long continues ; and could scarcely do other
wise. Land being, in early settled communities, the almost
exclusive source of wealth, it happens inevitably that during
times in which the principle that might is right remains
unqualified, personal power and ownership of the soil go
together. Hence the fact that where, instead of being held
by the whole society, land comes to be parcelled out among
component village-communities, or among families, or among
individuals, possession of it habitually goes along with the
bearing of arms. In ancient Egypt " every soldier was a land
owner " — " had an allotment of land of about six acres." In
Greece the invading Hellenes, wresting the country from its
original holders, joined military service with territorial endow
ment. In Rome, too, " every freeholder from the seventeenth
to the sixtieth year of his age, was under obligation of
service ... so that even the emancipated slave had to
serve who, in an exceptional case, had come into possession
of landed property." The like happened in the early Teutonic
community. Joined with professional warriors, its army
included " the mass of freemen arranged in families fighting
for their homesteads and hearths :" such freemen, or markmen,
owning land partly in common and partly as individual pro-
POLITICAL DIFFERENTIATION. 297
prietors. Or as is said of this same arrangement among the
ancient English, " their occupation of the land as cognationes
resulted from their enrolment in the field, where each kindred
was drawn up under an officer of its own lineage and appoint
ment ;" and so close was this dependence that " a thane for
feited his hereditary freehold by misconduct in battle."
Beyond the original connexion between militancy and land
owning, which naturally arises from the joint interest which
those who own the land and occupy it, either individually or
collectively, have in resisting aggressors, there arises later a
further connexion. As, along with successful militancy, there
progresses a social evolution which gives to a dominant ruler
increased power, it becomes his custom to reward his leading
soldiers by grants of land. Early Egyptian kings " bestowed
on distinguished military officers" portions of the crown
domains. When the barbarians were enrolled as Roman
soldiers, " they were paid also by assignments of land, accord
ing to a custom which prevailed in the Imperial armies. The
possession of these lands was given to them on condition of
the son becoming a soldier like.his father." And that kindred
usages were general throughout the feudal period, is a familiar
truth : feudal tenancy being, indeed, thus constituted ; and
inability to bear arms being a reason for excluding women
from succession. To exemplify the nature of the relation
established, it will suffice to name the fact that " "William
the Conqueror . . . distributed this kingdom into about
60,000 parcels, of nearly equal value [partly left in the hands
of those who previously held it, and partly made over to his
followers as either owners or suzerains], from each of which
the service of a soldier was due ;" and the further fact that
one of his laws requires all owners of land to "swear
that they become vassals or tenants," and will " defend their
lord's territories and title as well as his person " by " knight-
service on horseback."
That this original relation between landowning and mili
tancy long survived, we are shown by the armorial bearings
298 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
of county families, as well as by the portraits of family ances
tors, who are mostly represented in military costume.
§ 459. Setting out with tho class of warriors, or men bear
ing arms, who in primitive communities are owners of the
land, collectively or individually, or partly one and partly the
other, there arises the question — How does this class dif
ferentiate into nobles and freemen ?
The most general reply is, of course, that since the state
of homogeneity is by necessity unstable, time inevitably brings
about inequalities of positions among those whose positions
were at first equal. Before the semi-civilized state is reached,
the differentiation cannot become decided ; because there can
be no large accumulations of wealth, and because the laws of
descent do not favour maintenance of such accumulations as
are possible. But in the pastoral, and still more in the agri
cultural, community, especially where descent through males
has been established, several causes of differentiation come into
play. There is, first, unlikeness of kinship to the head man.
Obviously, in course of generations, the younger descendants
of the younger become more and more remotely related to
the eldest descendant of the eldest ; and social inferiority
arises. As the obligation to execute blood-revenge for a mur
dered member of the family does not extend beyond a certain
degree of relationship (in ancient France not beyond the
seventh), so neither does the accompanying distinction. From
the same cause comes inferiority in point of possessions.
Inheritance by the eldest male from generation to genera
tion, works the effect that those who are the most distantly
connected in blood with the head of the group, are also the
poorest. Then there cooperates with these factors a
consequent factor; namely, the extra power which greater
wealth gives. For when there arise disputes within the tribe,
the richer are those who, by their better appliances for
defence and their greater ability to purchase aid, naturally
have the advantage over the poorer. Proof that this is a
POLITICAL DIFFERENTIATION. 299
potent cause is found in a fact named by Sir Henry Maine.
" The founders of a part of our modern European aristocracy,
the Danish, are known to have been originally peasants who
fortified their houses during deadly village struggles and then
used their advantage." Such superiorities of position,
once initiated, are increased in another way. Already in the
last chapter we have seen that communities are to a certain
extent increased by the addition of fugitives from other com
munities — sometimes criminals, sometimes those who are
oppressed. While, in places where such fugitives belong to
races of superior types, they often become rulers (as among
many Indian hill-tribes, whose rajahs are of Hindoo extrac
tion), in places where they are of the same race and cannot
do this, they attach themselves to those of chief power in
their adopted tribe. Sometimes they yield up their freedom
for the sake of protection : a man makes himself a slave by
breaking a spear in the presence of his wished for master, as
among the East Africans, or by inflicting some small bodily
injury upon him, as among the Fulahs. In ancient Kome
the semi-slave class distinguished as clients, originated by this
voluntary acceptance of servitude with safety. But where
his aid promises to be of value in war, the fugitive offers
himself as a warrior in exchange for maintenance and refuge.
Other things equal, he chooses for master some one marked
by superiority of power and property ; and thus enables the
man already dominant to become more dominant. Such
armed dependents, having as aliens no claims to the lands of
the group, and bound to its head only by fealty, answer in
position to the comites as found in the early German commu
nities, and as exemplified in old English times by the
"Huscaiias" (Housecarls), with whom nobles surrounded
themselves. Evidently, too, followers of this kind, having
certain interests in common with their protector and no inte
rests in common with the rest of the community, become, in
his hands, the means of usurping communal rights and ele
vating himself while depressing the rest.
300 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
Step by step the contrast strengthens. Beyond such as
have voluntarily made themselves slaves to a head man,
others have become enslaved by capture in the wars mean
while going on, others by staking themselves in gaming,
others by purchase, others by crime, others by debt. And of
necessity the possession of many slaves, habitually accom
panying wealth and power, tends further to increase that
wealth and power, and to mark off still more the higher rank
from the lower.
And then, finally, the inferior freeman finds himself so
much at the mercy of the superior freeman, or noble, and his
armed followers of alien origin, that it becomes needful for
safety's sake to be also a follower ; and, at first voluntary, the
relation of dependence grows more and more compulsory.
" The freeman might choose his Lord, he might determine
to whom, in technical phrase, he should commend himself ;
but a Lord he must have, a Lord to act at once as his pro
tector and as his surety."
§ 460. Certain concomitant influences generate differences
of nature, physical and mental, between those members of a
community who have attained superior positions, and those who
have remained inferior. Unlikenesses of status once initiated,
lead to unlikenesses of life, which, by the constitutional
changes they work, presently make the unlikenesses of status
more difficult to alter.
First there comes difference of diet and its effects. In the
habit, common among primitive tribes, of letting the women
subsist on the leavings of the men, and in the accompanying
habit of denying to the younger men certain choice viands
which the older men eat, we see exemplified the inevitable
proclivity of the strong to feed themselves at the expense of
the weak ; and when there arise class-divisions, there habit
ually results better nutrition of the superior than of the
inferior. Forster remarks that in the Society Islands the
lower classes often suffer from a scarcity of food which never
POLITICAL DIFFERENTIATION. 301
extends to the upper classes. In the Sandwich Islands the
flesh of such animals as they have, is eaten principally by
the chiefs. Of cannibalism among the Fijians, Seeman says
— " the common people throughout the group, as well as
women of all classes, were by custom debarred from it."
These instances sufficiently indicate the contrast that every
where arises between the diets of the ruling few and of the
subject many. Naturally by such differences in diet, and
accompanying differences in clothing, shelter, and strain on
the energies, are eventually produced physical differences.
Of the Fijians we read that " the chiefs are tall, well made,
and muscular ; while the lower orders manifest the meagre-
ness arising from laborious service and scanty nourish
ment." The chiefs among the Sandwich Islanders " are tall
and stout, and their personal appearance is so much superior
to that of the common people, that some have imagined them
a distinct race." Ellis, verifying Cook, says of the Tahitians,
that the chiefs are, " almost without exception, as much
superior to the peasantry ... in physical strength as they
are in rank and circumstances ;" and Erskine notes a parallel
contrast among the Tongans. That the like holds of the
African races may be inferred from Eeade's remark that —
" The court lady is tall and elegant ; her skin smooth and transparent ;
her beauty has stamina and longevity. The girl of the middle classes, so
frequently pretty, is very often short and coarse, and soon becomes a
matron ; while, if you descend to the lower classes, you. will find good
looks rare, and the figure angular, stunted, sometimes almost de
formed.57*
Simultaneously there arise between rulers and ruled, nn-
likenesses of bodily activity and skill. Occupied, as those of
higher rank commonly are, in the chase when not occupied
in war, they have a life-long discipline of a kind conducive
to various physical superiorities ; while, contrariwise, those
occupied in agriculture, in carrying burdens, and in other
* "While writing I find, in the re* -entry-issued " Transactions of the Anthro
pological Institute," proof that even now in England, the professional classes
axe both taller and heavier than the artizan classes.
302 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
drudgeries, partially lose what agility and address they natu
rally had. Class-predominance is thus further facilitated.
And then there are the respective mental traits produced
by daily exercise of power and by daily submission to power.
The ideas, and sentiments, and modes of behaviour, perpetu
ally repeated, generate on the one side an inherited fitness for
command, and on the other side an inherited fitness for
obedience; with the result that, in course of time, there
arises on both sides the belief that the established relations of
classes are the natural ones.
§ 461. By implying habitual war among settled societies,
the foregoing interpretations have implied the formation of
compound societies. Such class-divisions as have been
described, are therefore usually complicated by further class-
divisions arising from the relations established between those
conquerors and conquered whose respective groups already
contain class-divisions.
This increasing differentiation which accompanies increas
ing integration, is clearly seen in such semi-civilized societies
as that of the Sandwich Islanders. Their ranks are — •
" 1. King, queens, and royal family, along with the councillor or
chief minister of the king. 2. The governors of the different islands,
and the chiefs of several large divisions. Many of these are descendants
of those who were kings of the respective islands in Cook's time, and
until subdued by T-amehameha. 3. Chiefs of districts or villages, who
pay a regular rent for the land, cultivating it by means of their depen
dants, or letting it out to tenants. This rank includes also the ancient
priests. 4. The labouring classes — those renting small portions of land,
those working on the land for food and clothing, mechanics, musicians,
and dancers."
And, as shown elsewhere, these labouring classes are other
wise divisible into — artizans, who are paid wages ; serfs,
attached to the soil ; and slaves. Inspection makes it tolera
bly clear that the lowest chiefs, once independent, were re
duced to the second rank when adjacent chiefs conquered
them and became local kings ; and that they were reduced to
the third rank at the same time that these local kings became
. POLITICAL DIFFERENTIATION. 303
chiefs of the second rank, when, by conquest, a kingship of
the whole group was established. Other societies in kindred
stages show us kindred divisions, similarly to be accounted
for. Among the New Zealanders there are six grades ; there
are six among the Ashantees ; there are five among the
Abyssinians ; and other more or less compounded African
States present analogous divisions. Perhaps ancient Peru
furnishes as cleai a case as any of the superposition of ranks
resulting from, subjugation. The petty kingdoms which were
massed together by the conquering Yncas, were severally left
with the rulers and their subordinates undisturbed ; but over
the whole empire there was a superior organization of Ynca
rulers of various grades. That kindred causes produced
kindred effects in early Egyptian times, is inferable from
traditions and remains which tell us both of local struggles
£D£~)
which ended in consolidation, and of conquests by invading
races ; whence would naturally result the numerous divisions
and sub-divisions which Egyptian society presented : an in
ference justified by the fact that under Eoman dominion,
there was a re-complication caused by the superposing of
Eoman governing agencies upon native governing agencies.
Passing over other ancient instances, and coming to the
familiar case of our own country, we may note how, from the
followers of the conquering Norman, there arose the two
ranks of the greater and lesser barons, holding their land
directly from the king, while the old English thanes were
reduced to the rank of sub-feudatories. Of course where
perpetual wars produce, first, small aggregations, and then
larger ones, and then dissolutions, and then re-aggregations,
and then unions of them, various in their extents, as happened
in mediaeval Europe, there result very numerous divisions.
In the Merovingian kingdoms there were slaves having seven
different origins ; there were serfs of more than one grade ;
there were freedmen — men who, though emancipated, did not
rank with the fully free ; and there were two other classes
less than free — the liten and the coloni. Of the free there
78
304 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
were three classes — independent landowners ; freemen in
relations of dependence with other freemen, of whom there
were two kinds ; and freemen in special relations with the
king, of whom there were three kinds.
And here, while observing in these various cases how
greater political differentiation is made possible by greater
political integration, we may also observe that in early stages,
while social cohesion is small, greater political integration is
made possible by greater political differentiation. For the
larger the mass to be held together, while incoherent, the more
numerous must be the agents standing in successive degree?
of subordination to hold it together.
o
§ 462. The political differentiations which militancy origi
nates, and which for a long time increase in defmiteness, so
that mixture of ranks by marriage is made a crime, are at
later stages, and under other conditions, interfered with,
traversed, and partially or wholly destroyed.
Where, for ages and in varying degrees, war has been pro
ducing aggregations and dissolutions, the continual breaking
up and re-forming of social bonds, obscures the original
divisions established in the ways described: instance the
state of things in the Merovingian kingdoms just named,,
And where, instead of conquests by kindred adjacent societies,
which in large measure leave standing the social positions
and properties of the subjugated, there are conquests by alien
races carried on more barbarously, the original grades may be
practically obliterated, and, in place of them, there may come
grades established entirely by appointment of the despotic
conqueror. In parts of the East, where such over-runnings
of race by race have been going on from the earliest recorded
times, we see this state of tilings substantially realized.
There is little or nothing of hereditary rank; and the only
rank recognized is that of official position. Besides the
different grades of appointed state-functionaries, there are
no class-distinctions having political meanings.
POLITICAL DIFFERENTIATION. 305
A tendency to subordination of the original ranks, and a
substitution of new ranks, is otherwise caused : it accompanies
the progress of political consolidation. The change which
occurred in China illustrates this effect. Gutzlatf says —
" Mere title was afterwards (on the decay of the feudal system) the
reward bestowed by the sovereign . . . and the haughty and powerful
giandees of other countries are here the dependant and penurious
servants of the Crown. . . . The revolutionary principle of levelling
all classes has been carried, in China, to a very great extent. . . . This
is introduced for the benefit of the sovereign, to render his authority
supreme."
The causes of such changes are not difficult to see. In the
first place the subjugated local rulers, losing, as integration
advances, more and more of their power, lose, consequently,
more and more of their actual, if not of their nominal, rank :
passing from the condition of tributary rulers to the condition
of subjects. Indeed, jealousy on the part of the monarch
sometimes prompts positive exclusion of them from influential
positions ; as in France, where " Louis XIV. systematically
excluded the nobility from ministerial functions." Presently
their distinction is further diminished by the rise of com
peting ranks created by State-authority. Instead of the titles
inherited by the land-possessing military chiefs, which were
descriptive of their attributes and positions, there come to be
titles conferred by the sovereign. Certain of the classes thus
established are still of military origin ; as the knights made
on the battle-field, sometimes in large numbers before battle,
as at Agincourt, when 500 were thus created, and sometimes
afterwards in reward for valour. Others of them arise from
the exercise of political functions of different grades ; as in
France, where, in the seventeenth century, hereditary nobility
was conferred on officers of the great council and officers of
the chamber of accounts. The administration of law, too,
originates titles of honour. In France, in 1607, nobility was
granted to doctors, regents, and professors of law ; and u the
superior courts obtained, in 1644, the privileges of nobility of
the first degree." So that, as Warnkcenig remarks, " the
306 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
original conception of nobility was in the course of time so
much widened that its primitive relation to the possession of
a fief is no longer recognizable, and the whole institution
seems changed." These, with kindred instances which our
own country and other European countries furnish, show us
both how the original class-divisions become blurred, and
how the new class-divisions are distinguished by being de-
localized. They are strata which run through the integrated
society, having, many of them, no reference to the land and
no more connexion with one place than with another. It is
true that of the titles artificially conferred, the higher are
habitually derived from the names of districts and towns : so
simulating, but only simulating, the ancient feudal titles ex
pressive of actual lordship over territories. The other modern
titles, however, which have arisen with the growth of political,
judicial, and other functions, have not even nominal references
to localities. This change naturally accompanies the growing
integration of the parts into a whole, and the rise of an or
ganization of the whole which disregards the divisions among
the parts.
More effective still in weakening those primitive political
divisions initiated by militancy, is increasing industrialism.
This acts in two ways — firstly, by creating a class having
power derived otherwise than from territorial possessions or
official positions; and, secondly, by generating ideas and
sentiments at variance with the ancient assumptions of class-
superiority. As we have already seen, rank and
wealth are at the outset habitually associated. Existing
uncivilized peoples still show us this relation. The chief of
a kraal among the Koranna Hottentots is " usually the per
son of greatest property." In the Bechuana language " the
word Jcosi . . . has a double acceptation, denoting either a
chief or a rich man." Such small authority as a Chinook
chief has, "rests on riches, which consists in wives, children,
slaves, boats, and shells." Eude European peoples, like the
Albanians, yield kindred facts : the heads of their communes
POLITICAL DIFFERENTIATION. 307
u sont en general les gens les plus riches." Indeed it is
manifest that before the development of commerce, and while
possession of land could alone give largeness of means, lord
ship and riches were directly connected; so that, as Sir
Henry Maine remarks, "the opposition commonly set up
between birth and wealth, and particularly wealth other than
landed property, is entirely modern." When, however, with
the arrival of industry at that stage in which wholesale
transactions bring large profits, there arise traders who vie
with, and exceed, many of the landed nobility in wealth ;
find when by conferring obligations on kings and nobles, such
traders gain social influence ; there comes an occasional
removal of the barrier between them and the titled classes.
In France the process began as early as 1271, when there
were issued letters ennobling Eaoul the goldsmith — " the
first letters conferring nobility in existence" in France. The
precedent once established is followed with increasing fre
quency; and sometimes, under pressure of financial needs,
there grows up the practice of selling titles, in disguised
ways or openly. In France, in 1702, the king ennobled 200
persons at 3,000 livres a-head ; in 1706, 500 persons at
6,000 livres a-head. And then the breaking down of the
ancient political divisions thus caused, is furthered by that
weakening of them consequent on the growing spirit of
equality fostered by industrial life. In proportion as men
are habituated to maintain their own claims while respect
ing the claims of others, which they do in every act of
exchange, whether of goods for money or of services for pay,
there is produced a mental attitude at variance with that
which accompanies subjection ; and, as fast as this happens,
such political distinctions as imply subjection, lose more and
more of that respect which gives them strength.
§ 463. Class-distinctions, then, date back to the beginnings
of social life. Omitting those small wandering assemblages
which are so incoherent that their component parts are
308 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
ever changing their relations to one another and to the
environment, we see that wherever there is some coherence
and some permanence of relation among the parts, there
begin to arise political divisions. Eelative superiority of
power, first causing a differentiation at once domestic anJ
social, between the activities of the sexes and the consequent
positions of the sexes, presently begins to cause a differentia
tion among males, shown in the bondage of captives : a
master-class and a slave-class are formed.
Where men continue the wandering life in pursuit of wild
food for themselves or their cattle, the groups they form are
debarred from doing more by war than appropriate one
another's units individually; but where men have passed
into the agricultural or settled state, it becomes possible for
one community to take possession bodily of another com
munity, along with the territory it occupies. When this
happens there arise additional class-divisions. The conquered
and tribute-paying community, besides having its headmen
reduced to subjection, has its people reduced to a state such
that, while they continue to live on their lands, they yie^d
up, through the intermediation of their chiefs, part of the
produce to the conquerors : so foreshadowing what eventually
becomes a serf-class.
From the beginning the militant class, being by force of
arms the dominant class, becomes the class which owns the
source of food— the land. During the hunting and pastoral
stages, the warriors of the group hold the land collectively.
On passing into the settled state, their tenures become
partly collective and partly individual in sundry ways, and
eventually almost wholly individual. But throughout long
stages of social evolution, landowning and militancy con
tinue to be associated.
The class-differentiation of which militancy is the active
cause, is furthered by the establishment of definite descent,
and especially male descent, and by the transmission of posi
tion and property to the eldest son of the eldest continually.
POLITICAL DIFFERENTIATION. 309
Tliis conduces to inequalities of position and wealth between
near kindred and remote kindred ; and such inequalities once
initiated, tend to increase ; since it results from them that
the superior get greater means of maintaining their power
by accumulating appliances for offence and defence.
Such differentiation is augmented, at the same time that a
new differentiation is set up, by the immigration of fugitives
who attach themselves to the most powerful member of the
group : now as dependants who work, and now as armed
followers — armed followers who form a class bound to the
dominant man and unconnected with the land. And since,
in clusters of such groups, fugitives ordinarily flock most to
the strongest group, and become adherents of its head, they
are instrumental in furthering those subsequent integrations
and differentiations which conquests bring about.
Inequalities of social position, bringing inequalities in the
supplies and kinds of food, clothing, and shelter, tend to
establish physical differences ; to the further advantage of the
rulers and disadvantage of the ruled. And beyond the
physical differences, there are produced by the respective
habits of life, mental differences, emotional and intellectual,
strengthening the general contrast of nature.
When there come the conquests which produce compound
societies, and, again, doubly compound ones, there result
superpositions of ranks. And the general effect is that, while
the ranks of the conquering society become respectively
higher than those which existed before, the ranks of the con
quered society become respectively lower.
The class-divisions thus formed during the earlier stages
of militancy, are traversed and obscured as fast as many
small societies are consolidated into one large society. Banks
referring to local organization are gradually replaced by ranks
referring to general organization. Instead of deputy and
sub-deputy governing agents who are the militant owners of
the sub-divisions they rule, there come governing agents who
more or less clearly form strata running throughout tho
310 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
society as a whole — a concomitant of developed political
administration.
Chiefly, however, we have to note that while the higher
political evolution of large social aggregates, tends to break
down the divisions of rank which grew up in the small com
ponent social aggregates, by substituting other divisions,
these original divisions are still more broken down by grow
ing industrialism. Generating a wealth that is not connected
with rank, this initiates a competing power; and at the
same time, by establishing the equal positions of citizens
before the law in respect of trading transactions, it weakens
those divisions which at the outset expressed inequalities of
position before the law.
As verifying these interpretations, I may add that they
harmonize with the interpretations of ceremonial insti
tutions already given. When the conquered enemy is made
a slave, and mutilated by taking a trophy from his body, we
see simultaneously originating the deepest political distinction
and the ceremony which marks it ; and with the continued
militancy that compounds and re-compounds social groups,
there goes at once the development of political distinctions
and the development of ceremonies marking them. And as
we before saw that growing industrialism diminishes the
rigour of ceremonial rule, so here we see that it tends to
destroy those class- divisions which militancy originates, and
to establish quite alien ones which indicate differences of
position consequent on differences of aptitude for the various
ianctions which an industrial society needs.
CHAPTER V.
POLITICAL FORMS AND FOKCES.
§ 464. THE conceptions of biologists have been greatly en
larged by the discovery that organisms which, when adult,
appear to have scarcely anything in common, were, in their
first stages, very similar ; and that, indeed, all organisms start
with a common structure. Recognition of this truth has re
volutionized not only their ideas respecting the relations of
organisms to one another, but also their ideas respecting the
relations of the parts of each organism to one another.
If societies have evolved, and if that mutual dependence of
their parts which cooperation implies, has been gradually
reached, then the implication is that however imlike their
developed structures become, there is a rudimentary structure
with which they all set out. And if there can be recognized
any such primitive unity, recognition of it will help us to
interpret the ultimate diversity. We shall understand better
how in each society the several components of the political
agency have come to be what we now see them; and also
how those of one society are related to those of another.
Setting out witli an unorganized horde, including both
sexes and all ages, let us ask what must happen when some
public question, as that of migration, or of defence against
enemies, has to be decided. The assembled individuals will
fall, more or less clearly, into two divisions. The elder, the
stronger, and those whose sagacity and courage have been
proved by experience, will form the smaller part, who carry
312 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
on the discussion ; while the larger part, formed of the young,
the weak, and the undistinguished, will be listeners, who
usually do no more than express from time to time assent or
dissent. A further inference may safely be drawn. In the
cluster of leading men there is sure to be one whose weight
is greater than that of any other — some aged hunter, some
distinguished warrior, some cunning medicine-man, who will
have more than his individual share in forming the resolution
finally acted upon. That is to say, the entire assemblage will
resolve itself into three parts. To use a biological metaphor,
there will, out of the general mass, be differentiated a nucleus
and a nucleolus.
These first traces of political structure which we infer
d priori must spontaneously arise, we find have arisen among
the rudest peoples : repetition having so strengthened them
as to produce a settled order. When, among the aborigines
of Victoria, a tribe plans revenge on another tribe supposed
to have killed one of its members, " a council is called of all
the old men of the tribe. . . The women form an outer
circle round the men. . . The chief [simply ' a native of
influence '] opens the council." And what we here see hap
pening in an assemblage having no greater differences than
those based on strength, age, arid capacity, happens when,
later, these natural distinctions have gained definiteness. In
illustration may be named the account which Schoolcraft
gives of a conference at which the Chippewas, Ottawas, and
Pottowattomies met certain United States' Commissioners :
Schoolcraft being himself present. After the address of the
head commissioner had been delivered, the speaking on be
half of the Indians was carried on by the principal chiefs :
the lead being taken by " a man venerable for his age and
standing." Though Schoolcraft does not describe the as-
O O
semblage of undistinguished people, yet that they were pre
sent is shown by a passage in one of the native speeches :—
" Behold ! see my brethren, both young and old — the warriors
and chiefs — the women and children of mv nation." And
POLITICAL FORMS AND FORCES. 313
that Hie political order observed on this occasion was the
usual order, is implied by its recurrence even in parts of
America where chiefs have become marked off by ascribed
nobility ; as instance the account of one of the Central
American tribes, who " have frequent reunions in their
council-house at night. The hall is then lighted up by a
large fire, and the people sit with uncovered heads, listening
respectfully to the observations and decisions of the ahuales
— men over forty years of age, who have occupied public
positions, or distinguished themselves in some way." Among
peoples unlike in type and remote in locality, we find, modi
fied in detail but similar in general character, this primitive
governmental form. Of the Hill tribes of India may be in
stanced the Khonds, of whom we read that —
u Assemblies of the whole tribe, or of any of its sub-divisions, are con
vened, to determine questions of general importance. The members of
every society, however, have a right to be present at all its councils,
and to give their voices on the questions mooted, although the patri
archs alone take a part in their public discussion" ..." The federal
patriarchs, in like manner, consult with the heads of tribes, and
assemble when necessary the entire population of the federal group."
In New Zealand, too, the government was conducted in
accordance with public opinion expressed in general assem
blies ; and the chiefs " could not declare peace or war, or do
anything affecting the whole people, without the sanction of
the majority of the clan." Of the Tahitians, Ellis tells us
that the king had a few chiefs as advisers, but that no affair
of national importance could be undertaken without consult
ing the land-holders or second rank, and also that public
assemblies were held. Similarly of the Malagasy. " The
greatest national council in Madagascar is an assembly of the
people of the capital, and the heads of the provinces, towns,
villages, &c." The king usually presides in person.
Though in these last cases we see considerable changes in
the relative powers of the three components, so that the inner
few have gained in authority at the expense of the outer
many, yet all three are still present • and they continue to
314 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
be present when we pass to sundry historic peoples. Even
of the Phoenicians, Movers notes that " in the time of Alex
ander a war was decided upon by the Tyrians without the
consent of the absent king, the senate acting together with
the popular assembly." Then there is the familiar case of
the Homeric Greeks, whose Agora, presided over by the king,
was " an assembly for talk, communication and discussion to
a certain extent by the chiefs, in presence of the people as
listeners and sympathisers," wh» w^-re seated around ; and
that the people were not always passive is shown by the story
of Thersites, who, ill-used though he was by Odysseus and
derided by the crowd for interfering, had first made his
harangue. Again, the king, the senate, and the freemen, in
early Eoman times, stood in relations which had manifestly
grown out of those existing in the original assembly ; for
though the three did not simultaneously co-operate, yet on
important occasions the king communicated his proposals -to
the assembled burgesses, who expressed their approval or dis
approval, and the clan-chiefs, forming the senate, though they
did not debate in public, had yet such joint power that they
could, on occasion, negative the decision of king and bur
gesses. Concerning the primitive Germans, Tacitus, as trans
lated by Mr. Freeman, writes —
" On smaller matters the chiefs debate, on greater matters all men ; but
so that those things whose final decision rests with the whole people
are first handled by the chiefs. . . . The multitude sits armed in such
order as it thinks good ; silence is proclaimed by the priests, who have also
the right of enforcing it. Presently the king or chief, according to the
age of each, according to his birth, according to his glory in war or his
eloquence, is listened to, speaking rather by the influence of persuasion
than by the power of commanding. If their opinions give offence,
they are thrust aside with a shout ; if they approved, the hearers clash
their spears."
Similarly among the Scandinavians, as shown us in Iceland,
where, besides the general Al-thing annually held, which it
was " disreputable for a freeman not to attend," and at which
" people of all classes in fact pitched their tents," there were
local assemblies called Var-things " attended by all the free-
POLITICAL FOftMS AND FORCES. 315
men of the district, with a crowd of retainers . . . both for
the discussion of public affairs and the administration of jus
tice . . . Within the circle [formed for administering justice]
sat the judges, the people standing on the outside." In the ac
count given by Mr. Freeman of the yearly meetings in the Swiss
cantons of Uri and Appenzell, we may trace this primitive
political form as still existing ; for though the presence of the
people at large is the fact principally pointed out, yet there is
named, in the case of Uri, the body of magistrates or chosen
chiefs who form the second element, as well as the head magis
trate who is the first element. And that in ancient England
there was a kindred constitution of the Witenagemot, is in
directly proved ; as witness the following passage from
Freeman's Growth of the English Constitution : —
* No ancient record gives us any clear or formal account of the constitu
tion of that body. It- is commonly spoken of in a vague way as a
gathering of the wise, the noble, the great men. But, alongside pas
sages like these, we find other passages which speak of it in a way
which implies a far more popular constitution. King Eadward is said
to be chosen King by * all folk.' Earl Godwine ' makes his speech
before the king and all the people of the land.' "
And the implication, as Mr. Freeman points out, is that the
share taken by the people in the proceedings was that of
expressing by shouts their approval or disapproval.
This form of ruling agency is thus shown to be the funda
mental form, by its presence at the outset of social life and
by its continuance under various conditions. Not among
peoples of superior types only, such as Aryans and some
Semites, do we find it, but also among sundry Malayo-Poly-
nesians, among the red men of North America, the Dravidian
tribes of the Indian hills, the aborigines of Australia. In
fact, as already implied, governmental organization could not
possibly begin in any other way. On the one hand, no con
trolling force at first exists save that of the aggregate will as
manifested in the assembled horde. On the other hand, lead
ing parts in determining this aggregate will are inevitably
taken by the few whose superiority is recognized. And of
316 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
these predominant few, some one is sure to be most pre
dominant. That which we have to note as specially significant,
is not that a free form of government is the primitive form ;
though this is an implication which may be dwelt upon. NOT
are we chiefly concerned with the fact that at the very begin
ning there shows itself that separation of the superior few
from the inferior many, which becomes marked in later
stages ; though this, too, is a fact which may be singled out
and emphasized. Nor is attention to be mainly directed to
the early appearance of a man whose controlling power is
greater than that of any other ; though the evidence given may
be cited to prove this. But here we have to note, particularly,
the truth that at the outset may be discerned the vague out
lines of a tri-une political structure.
§ 465. Of course the ratios among the powers of these
three components are in no two cases quite the same ; and, as
implied in sundry of the above examples, they everywhere
undergo more or less change — change determined here by the
emotional natures of the men composing the group ; there by
the physical circumstances as favouring or hindering inde
pendence ; now by the activities as warlike or peaceful ; and
now by the exceptional characters of particular individuals.
Unusual sagacity, skill, or strength, habitually regarded by
primitive men as supernatural, may give to some member of
the tribe an influence which, transmitted to a successor sup
posed to inherit his supernatural character, establishes an
authority subordinating both that of the other leading men
and that of the mass. Or from a division of labour such tlmt
while some remain exclusively warriors the rest are in a
measure otherwise occupied, it may result that the two supe
rior components of the political agency get power to over-ride
the third. Or the members of the third, keeping up habits
which make coercion of them difficult or impossible, may
maintain a general predominance over the other two. And
then the relations of these three governing elements to the
POLITICAL FORMS AND FORCES. 317
entire community may, and ordinarily do, undergo change by
the formation of a passive class excluded from their delibera
tions — a class at first composed of the women and afterwards
containing also the slaves or other dependents.
War successfully carried on, not only generates this passive
class, but also, implying as it does subjection to leaders,
changes more or less decidedly the relative powers of these
three parts of the political agency. As, other things equal,
groups in which there is little subordination are subjugated
by groups in which subordination is greater, there is a ten
dency to the survival and spread of groups in which the con
trolling power of the dominant few becomes relatively great.
In like manner, since success in war largely depends on that
promptitude and consistency of action which singleness of
will gives, there must, where warfare is chronic, be a tendency
for members of the ruling group to become more and more
obedient to its head : failure in the struggle for existence
among tribes otherwise equal, being ordinarily a consequence
of disobedience. And then it is also to be noted that the
over-runnings of societies one by another, repeated and re-
repeated as they often are, have the effect of obscuring and
even obliterating the traces of the original structure.
While, however, recognizing the fact that during political
evolution these three primitive components alter their propor
tions in various ways and degrees, to the extent that some of
them become mere rudiments or wholly disappear, it will
greatly alter our conception of political forms if we remember
that they are all derived from this primitive form — that a
despotism, an oligarchy, or a democracy, is a type of govern
ment in which one of the original components has greatly
developed at the expense of the other two; and that the
various mixed types are to be arranged according to the
degrees in which one or other of the original components has
the greater influence.
§ 4G6. Is there any fundamental unity of political forces
318 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
accompanying this fundamental unity of political forms?
While losing sight of the common origin of the structures,
have we not also "become inadequately conscious of the
common source of their powers ? How prone we are to forget
the ultimate while thinking of the proximate, it may be worth
while pausing a moment to observe.
One who in a storm watches the breaking-up of a wreck or
the tearing down of a sea-wall, is impressed by the immense
energy of the waves. Of course, when it is pointed out that
in the absence of winds no such results can be produced, he
recognizes the truth that the sea is in itself powerless, and
that the power enabling it to destroy vessels and piers is
given by the currents of air which roughen its surface. If he
stops short here, however, he fails to identify the force which
works these striking changes. Intrinsically, the. air is just as
passive as the water is. There would be no winds were it
not for the varying effects of the Sun's heat on different parts
of the Earth's surface. Even when he has traced back thus
far the energy which undermines cliffs and makes shingle, he
has not reached its source ; for in the absence of that con
tinuous concentration of the solar mass caused by the mutual
gravitation of its parts, there would be no solar radiations.
The tendency here illustrated, which all have in some
degree and most in a great degree, to associate power with the
visible agency exercising it rather than with its incon
spicuous source, has, as above implied, a vitiating influence
on conceptions at large, and, among others, on political ones.
Though the habit, general in past times, of regarding the
powers of governments as inherent, has been, by the growth
of popular institutions, a good deal qualified ; yet, even now,
there is no clear apprehension of the fact that governments
are not themselves powerful, but are the instrumentalities of
a power. This power existed before governments arose ;
governments were themselves produced by it ; and it ever
continues to be that which, disguised more or less completely,
works through them. Let us go back to the beginning.
POLITICAL FOKMS AND FORCES. 319
The Greenlanders are entirely without political control;
having nothing which represents it more nearly than the
deference paid to the opinion of some old man, skilled in seal-
catching and the signs of the weather. But a Greenlander
who is aggrieved by another, has his remedy in what is called
a singing combat. He composes a satirical poem, and
challenges his antagonist to a satirical duel in face of the
tribe : " he who has the last word wins the trial." And then
Crantz adds — " nothing so effectually restrains a Greenlander
from vice, as the dread of public disgrace." Here we see
operating in its original unqualified way, that governing
influence of public sentiment which precedes more special
governing influences. The dread of social reprobation is
in some cases enforced by the dread of banishment. Among
the otherwise unsubordinated Australians, they " punish each
other for such offences as theft, sometimes by expulsion from
the camp." Of one of the Columbian tribes we read that
" the Salish can hardly be said to have any regular form of
government ;" and then, further, we read that " criminals are
sometimes punished by banishment from their tribe." Certain
aborigines of the Indian hills, widely unlike these Columbians
in type and in mode of life, show us a similar relation between
undeveloped political restraint and the restraint of aggregate
feeling. Among the Bodo and the Dhimals, whose- village
heads are simply respected elders with no coercive powers,
those who offend against customs " are admonished, fined, or
excommunicated, according to the degree of the offence."
But the controlling influence of public sentiment in groups
which have little or no organization, is best shown in the
force with which it acts on those who are bound to avenge
murders. Concerning the Australian aborigines, Sir George
Grey writes : —
* The holiest duty a native is called on to perform is that of avenging
the death of his nearest relation, for it is his peculiar duty to do so ;
until he has fulfilled this task, he is constantly taunted by the old
women ; his wives, if he is married, would soon quit him ; if he is un
married, not a single young woman would speak to him ; his mother
79
320 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
would constantly cry, and lament that she should ever have given
birth to so degenerate a son ; his father would treat him with contempt,
and reproaches would constantly be sounded in his ear."
We have next to note that for a long time after political
control has made its appearance, it remains conspicuously
subordinate to this control of general feeling ; both because,
while there are no developed governmental structures, the
head man has but little ability to enforce his will, and because
such ability as he has, if unduly exercised, causes desertion.
All parts of the world furnish illustrations. In America
among the Snake Indians " each individual is his own master,
and the only control to which his conduct is subjected, is the
advice of a chief supported by his influence over the opinions
of the rest of the tribe." Of a Chinook chief we are told
that his ability to render service to his neighbours, and the
popularity which follows it, is at once the foundation and the
measure of his authority." If a Dakota " wishes to do mis
chief, the only way a chief can influence him is to give him
something, or pay him to desist from his evil intentions. The
chief has no authority to act for the tribe, and dare not do it."
And among the Creeks, more advanced in political organiza
tion though they are, the authority of the elected chiefs " con
tinues during good behaviour. The disapproval of the body
of the people is an effective bar to the exercise of their powers
and functions." Turning to Asia, we read that the
bais or chiefs of the Khirgiz " have little power over them for
good or evil. In consideration of their age and blood, some
deference to their opinions is shown, but nothing more."
The Ostyaks " pay respect, in the fullest sense of the word, to
their chief, if wise and valiant, but this homage is voluntary,
and founded on personal regard." And of the Naga chiefs
Butler says—" Their orders are obeyed so far only as they
accord with the wishes and convenience of the com
munity." So, too, is it in parts of Africa ; as instance
the Koranna Hottentots. " A chief or captain presides over
each clan or kraal, being usually the person of greatest pro-
POLITICAL FORMS AND FORCES. 321
perty ; but his authority is extremely limited, and only obeyed
so far as it meets the general approbation." And even among
the more politically-organized Kaffirs, there is a kindred
restraint. The king " makes laws and executes them according
to his sole will. Yet there is a power to balance his in the
people: he governs only so long as they choose to obey."
They leave him if he governs ill.
In its primitive form, then, political power is the feeling of
the community, acting through an agency which it has either
informally or formally established. Doubtless, from the
beginning, the power of the chief is in part personal : his
greater strength, courage, or cunning, enables him in some
degree to enforce his individual will. But, as the evidence
shows, his individual will is but a small factor ; and the autho
rity he wields is proportionate to the degree in which he
expresses the wills of the rest.
§ 467. While this public feeling, which first acts by itself
and then partly through an agent, is to some extent the feeling
spontaneously formed by those concerned, it is to a much
larger extent the opinion imposed on them or prescribed for
them. In the first place, the emotional nature prompting
the general mode of conduct is derived from ancestors — is a
product of all ancestral activities ; and in the second place,
the special desires which, directly or indirectly, determine
the courses pursued, are induced during early life by seniors,
and enlisted on behalf of beliefs and usages which the tribe
inherits. The governing sentiment is, in short, mainly the
accumulated and organized sentiment of the past.
It needs but to remember the painful initiation which, at a
prescribed age, each member of a tribe undergoes (submitting
to circumcision, or knocking out of teeth, or gashing of the
flesh, or tatooing) — it needs but to remember that from these
imperative customs there is no escape; to see that the
directive force which exists before a political agency arises,
and which afterwards makes the political agency its organ,
322 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
is the gradually-formed opinion of countless preceding gene
rations ; or rather, not the opinion, which, strictly speaking,
is an intellectual product wholly impotent, but the emotion
associated with the opinion. This we everywhere find to bo
at the outset the chief controlling power.
The notion of the Tupis that "if they departed from the
customs of their, forefathers they should be destroyed," may
be named as a definite manifestation of the force with which
this transmitted opinion acts. In one of the rudest tribes of
the Indian hills, the Juangs, less clothed than even Adam
and Eve are said to have been, the women long adhered to
their bunches of leaves in the belief that change was wrong.
Of the Koranna Hottentots we read that "when ancient
usages are not in the way, every man seems to act as is right
in his own eyes." Though the Damara chiefs "have the
power of governing arbitrarily, yet they venerate the tradi
tions and customs of their ancestors." Smith says, "laws
the Araucanians can scarcely be said to have, though there
are many ancient usages which they hold sacred and strictly
observe." According to Brooke, among the Dyaks custom
simply seems to have become law, and breaking the custom
leads to a fine. In the minds of some clans of the Malagasy,
" innovation and injury are .... inseparable, and the idea
of improvement altogether inadmissible."
This control by inherited usages is not simply as strong
in groups of men who are politically unorganized, or but
little organized, as it is in advanced tribes and nations, but it
is stronger. As Sir John Lubbock remarks — " No savage is
free. All over the world his daily life is regulated by a
complicated and apparently most inconvenient set of customs
(as forcible as laws), of quaint prohibitions and privileges."
Though one of these rude societies appears structureless,
yet its ideas and usages form a kind of invisible framework
for it, serving rigorously to restrain certain classes of its
actions. And this invisible framework has been slowly and
unconsciously shaped, during daily activities impelled by pre-
POLITICAL FORMS AND FORCES. 323
vailing feelings and guided by prevailing thoughts, through
generations stretching back into the far past.
In brief, then, before any definite agency for social control
is developed, there exists a control arising partly from the
public opinion of the living, and more largely from the public
opinion of the dead.
§ 468 But now let us note definitely a truth implied in
some of the illustrations above given — the truth that when a
political agency has been evolved, its power, largely de
pendent on present public opinion, is otherwise almost wholly
dependent on past public opinion. The ruler, in part the
organ of the wills of those around, is in a still greater degree
the organ of the wills of those who have passed away ; and
his own will, much restrained by the first, is still more
restrained by the last.
For his function as regulator is mainly that of enforcing
the inherited rules of conduct which embody ancestral senti
ments and ideas. Everywhere we are shown this. Among
the Arafuras such decisions as are given by their elders, are
"according to the customs of their forefathers, which are held
in the highest regard." So is it with the Khirgiz : " the judg
ments of the Bis, or esteemed elders, are based on the known
and universally-recognized customs." And in Sumatra " they
are governed, in their various disputes, by a set of long-
established customs (adafy, handed down to them from their
ancestors. . . . The chiefs, in pronouncing their decisions, are
not heard to say, 'so the law directs/ but 'such is the
custom.' "
As fast as custom passes into law, the political head be
comes still more clearly an agent through whom the feelings of
the dead control the actions of the living, That the power
he exercises is mainly a j ower which acts through him, we
see on noting how little ability he has to resist it if he
wishes to do so. His individual will is practically in
operative save where the overt or tacit injunctions of departed
324 POLITICAL INSTITUTION'S.
•generations leave him free. Thus in Madagascar,
where there is no law, custom, or precedent, the word of the
sovereign is sufficient." Among the East Africans, " the only
limit to the despot's power is the Ada or precedent." Of the
Javans, Eaffies writes — " the only restraint upon the will of
the head of the government is the custom of the country,
and the regard which he has for his character among his sub
jects." In Sumatra the people " do not acknowledge a right
in the chiefs to constitute what laws they think proper, or to
repeal or alter their ancient usages, of which they are
extremely tenacious and jealous." And how imperative is con
formity to the beliefs and sentiments of progenitors, is shown
by the fatal results apt to occur from disregarding them.
'"The King of Ashantee, although represented as a despotic monarch
.... is not in all respects beyond control.' He is under an * obliga
tion to observe the national customs which have been handad down to
the people from remote antiquity ; and a practical disregard of this
obligation, in the attempt to change some of the customs of their fore
fathers, cost Osai Quamina his throne.' "
Which instance reminds us how commonly, as now among
the Hottentots, as in the past among the ancient Mexicans,
and as throughout the histories of civilized peoples, rulers
have engaged, on succeeding to power, not to change the esta
blished order.
§ 469. Doubtless the proposition that a government is in
the main but an agency through which works the force of
public feeling, present and past, seems at variance with the
many facts showing how great may be the power of a ruling
man himself. Saying nothing of a tyrant's ability to take
lives for nominal reasons or none at all, to make groundless
confiscations, to transfer subjects bodily from one place to
another, to exact contributions of money and labour without
stint, we are apparently shown by his ability to begin and
carry on wars which sacrifice his subjects wholesale, that his
single will may over-ride the united wills of all others. In
what way, then, must the original statement be qualified ?
POLITICAL FORMS AND FORCES. 325
While holding that, in unorganized groups of men, the
feeling manifested as public opinion controls political con
duct, just as it controls the conduct distinguished as cere
monial and religious; and while holding that governing
agencies, during their early stages, are at once the products
of aggregate feeling, derive their powers from it, and are
restrained by it ; we must admit that these primitive re
lations become complicated when, by war, small groups are
compounded and re-compounded into great ones. Where the
society is largely composed of subjugated people held down
by superior force, the normal relation above described no
longer exists. We must not expect to find in a rule coercively
established by an invader, the same traits as in a rule that
has grown up from within. Societies formed by conquest may
be, and frequently are, composed of two societies, which are
in large measure, if not entirely, alien ; and in them there
cannot arise a political force from the aggregate will. Under
such conditions the political head either derives his power
exclusively from the feeling of the dominant class, or else,
setting the diverse feelings originated in the upper and lower
classes, one against the other, is enabled so to make his indi
vidual will the chief factor.
After making which qualifications, however, it may still be
contended that ordinarily, nearly all the force exercised by
the governing agency originates from the feeling, if not of the
whole community, yet of the part which is able to manifest
its feeling. Though the opinion of the subjugated and un
armed lower society becomes of little account as a political
lector, yet the opinion of the dominant and armed upper
society continues to be the main cause of political action.
What we are told of the Congo people, that " the king, who
reigns as a despot over the people, is often disturbed in the
exercise of his power by the princes his vassals," — what we
are told of the despotically-governed Dahomans, that " the
ministers, war-captains, and feetishers may be, and often are,
individually punished by the king : collectively they are too
326 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
strong for him, and without their cordial cooperation he would
soon cease to reign ;" is what we recognize as having been
true, and as being still true, in various better-known societies
where the supreme head is nominally absolute. From
the time when the Eoman emperors were chosen by the
soldiers and slain when they did not please them, to the
present time when, as we are told of Eussia, the desire of the
army often determines the will of the Czar, there have been
many illustrations of the truth that an autocrat is politically
strong or weak according as many or few of the influential
classes give him their support ; and that even the sentiments of
those who are politically prostrate occasionally affect political
action ; as instance the influence of Turkish fanaticism over
the decisions of the Sultan.
A number of facts must be remembered if we are rightly
to estimate the power of the aggregate will in comparison
with the power of the autocrat's will. There is the fact that
the autocrat is obliged to respect and maintain the great mass
of institutions and laws produced by past sentiments and
ideas, which have acquired a religious sanction ; so that, as in
ancient Egypt, dynasties of despots live and die leaving the
social order essentially unchanged. There is the fact that a
serious change of the social order, at variance with general
feeling, is likely afterwards to be reversed ; as when, in Egypt,
Amenhotep IV., spite of a rebellion, succeeded in establishing
a new religion, which was abolished in a succeeding reign ; and
there is the allied fact that laws much at variance with the
general will prove abortive, as, for instance, the sumptuary
laws made by mediaeval kings, which, continually re-enacted,
continually failed. There is the fact that, supreme as he may
be, and divine as the nature ascribed to him, the all-powerful
monarch is often shackled by usages which make his daily
life a slavery : the opinions of the living oblige him to fulfil
the dictates of the dead. There is the fact that if he does not
conform, or if he otherwise produces by his acts much
adverse feeling, his servants, civil and military, refuse to act,
POLITICAL FORMS AND FORCES. 327
or turn against him ; and in extreme cases there conies an
example of " despotism tempered by assassination." And
there is the final fact that habitually in societies where
an offending autocrat is from time to time removed, another
autocrat is set up : the implication being that the average
sentiment is of a kind which not only tolerates but desires
autocracy. That which some call loyalty and others call
servility, both creates the absolute ruler and gives him the
power he exercises,
But the cardinal truth, difficult adequately to appreciate, is
that while the forms and laws of each society are the consoli
dated products of the emotions and ideas of those who lived
throughout the past, they are made operative by the subordi
nation of existing emotions and ideas to them. We are
familiar with the thought of " the dead hand " as controlling
the doings of the living in the uses made of property ; but
the effect of " the dead hand " in ordering life at large through
the established political system, is immeasureably greater.
That which, from hour to hour in every country, governed
despotically or otherwise, produces the obedience making
political action possible, is the accumulated and organized
sentiment felt towards inherited institutions made sacred by
tradition. Hence it is undeniable that, taken in its widest
acceptation, the feeling of the community is the sole source of
political power : in those communities, at least, which are not
under foreign domination. It was so at the outset of social
life, and it still continues substantially so.
§ 470. It has come to be a maxim of science that in the
causes still at work, are to be identified the causes which,
similarly at work during past times, have produced the state
of things now existing. Acceptance of this maxim, and pur-
suit of the inquiries suggested by it, lead to verifications of
the foregoing conclusions.
For day after day, every public meeting illustrates afresh
this same differentiation characterizing the primitive political
328 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
agency, and illustrates afresh the actions of its respective
parts. There is habitually the great body of the less distin
guished, forming the audience, whose share in the proceed
ings consists in expressing approval or disapproval, and say
ing aye or no to the resolutions proposed. There is the
smaller part, occupying the platform — the men whose wealth,
rank, or capacity, give them influence — the local chiefs, by
whom the discussions are carried on. And there is the chosen
head, commonly the man of greatest mark to be obtained,
who exercises a recognized power over speakers and audience
— the temporary king. Even an informally-summoned
assemblage soon resolves itself into these divisions more or
less distinctly ; and when the assemblage becomes a perma
nent body, as of the men composing a commercial company,
or a philanthropic society, or a club, definiteness is quickly
given to the three divisions — president or chairman, board or
committee, proprietors or members. To which add that,
though at first, like the meeting of the primitive horde or the
modern public meeting, one of these permanent associations
voluntarily formed, exhibits a distribution of powers such
that the select few and their head are subordinate to the
mass ; yet, as circumstances determine, the proportions of the
respective powers usually change more or less decidedly.
Where the members of the mass besides being much interested
in the transactions, are so placed that they can easily co
operate, they hold in check the select few and their head ;
but where wide distribution, as of railway-shareholders,
hinders joint action, the select few become, in large measure,
an oligarchy, and out of the oligarchy there not unfrequently
grows an autocrat : the constitution becomes a despotism
tempered by revolution.
In saying that from hour to hour proofs occur that the
force possessed by a political agency is derived from aggregate
feeling, partly embodied in the consolidated system which has
come down from the past, and partly excited by immediate
circumstances, I do not refer only to the proofs that among
POLITICAL FORMS AND FORCES. 329
ourselves governmental actions are habitually thus determined,
and that the actions of all minor bodies, temporarily or per
manently incorporated, are thus determined. I refer, rather,
to illustrations of the irresistible control exercised by popular
sentiment over conduct at large. Such facts as that, while
general opinion is in favour of duelling law does not prevent
it, and that sacred injunctions backed by threats of damnation,
fail to check iniquitous aggressions on foreign peoples when
the prevailing passions prompt them, alone suffice to show
that legal codes and religious creeds, with the agencies en
forcing them, are impotent in face of an adverse state of mind,
On remembering the eagerness for public applause and the
dread of public disgrace which stimulate and restrain men, we
cannot question that the diffused manifestations of feeling
habitually dictate their careers, when their immediate neces
sities have been satisfied. It requires only to contemplate
the social code which regulates life, down even to the colour
of an evening neck-tie, and to note how those who dare not
break this code have no hesitation in smuggling, to see that
an unwritten law enforced by opinion is more peremptory
than a written law not so enforced. And still more on ob
serving that men disregard the just claims of creditors, who
for goods given cannot get the money, while they are anxious
to discharge so-called debts of honour to those who have
rendered neither goods nor services, we are shown that the
control of prevailing sentiment, unenforced by law and reli
gion, may be more potent than law and religion together
when they are backed by sentiment less strongly manifested.
Looking at the total activities of men, we are obliged to admit
that they are still, as they were at the outset of social life,
guided by the aggregate feeling, past and present ; and that
the political agency, itself a gradually-developed product of
such feeling, continues still to be in the main the vehicle for
a specialized portion of it, regulating actions of certain kinds.
Partly, of course, I am obliged here to set forth this general
truth as an essential element of political theory. My excuse
330 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
for insisting at some length on what appears to be a trite con
clusion, must be that, however far nominally recognized, it is
actually recognized to a very small extent. Even in our own
country, where non- political agencies spontaneously produced
and worked are many and large, and still more in most other
countries less characterized by them, there is no due con
sciousness of the truth that the combined impulses which work
through political agencies, can, in the absence of such agencies,
produce others through which to work. Politicians reason as
though State-instrumentalities have intrinsic power, which
they have not, and as though the feeling which creates them
has not intrinsic power, which it has. Evidently theii
actions must be greatly affected by reversal of these ideas.
CHAPTER VI.
POLITICAL HEADS— CHIEFS, KINGS, ETC.
§ 471. Of the three components of the tri-une political struc
ture traceable at the outset, we have now to follow the develop
ment of the first. Already in the last two chapters something
has been said, and more has been implied, respecting that
most important differentiation which results in the establish
ment of a headship. What was there indicated under its
general aspects has here to be elaborated under its special
aspects.
" When Eink asked the Nicobarians who among them was
the chief, they replied laughing, how could he believe that
one could have power against so many ?" I quote this as a
reminder that there is, at first, resistance to the assumption
of supremacy by one member of a group — resistance which,
though in some types of men small, is in most considerable,
and in a few very great. To instances already given of tribes
practically chief less may be added, from America, the Haidahs,
among whom " the people seemed all equal ;" the Californian
tribes, among whom " each individual does as he likes ;" the
Navajos, among whom "each is sovereign in his o\\n right as
a warrior;" and from Asia the Angamies, who "have no
recognized head or chief, although they elect a spokesman,
who, to all intents and purposes, is powerless and irrespon
sible."
Such small subordination as rude groups show, occurs only
332 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
when the need for joint action is imperative, and control ig
required to make it efficient. Instead of recalling before-
named examples of temporary chieftainship, I may here give
some others. Of the Lower Californians we read — " In hunt
ing and war they have one or more chiefs to lead them, who
are selected only for the occasion." Of the Flatheads* chiefs
it is said that " with the war their power ceases." Among
the Sound Indians the chief "has no authority, and only
directs the movements of his band in warlike incursions."
As observed under another head, this primitive insubordi
nation has greater or less play according as the environment
and the habits of life hinder or favour coercion. The Lower
Californians, above instanced as chiefless, Baegert says
resemble " herds of wild swine, which run about according
to their own liking, being together to-day and scattered to
morrow, till they meet again by accident at some future time."
" The chiefs among the Chipewyans are now totally without
power," says Franklin; and these people exist as small
migratory bands. Of the Abipones, who are " impatient of
agriculture and a fixed home," and " are continually moving
from place to place," Dobrizhoffer writes — "they neither revere
their cacique as a master, nor pay him tribute or attendance
as is usual with other nations." The like holds under like
conditions with other races remote in type. Of the Bedouins
Burckhardt remarks " the sheikh has no fixed authority ;" and
according to another writer " a chief, who has drawn the bond
of allegiance too tight, is deposed or abandoned, and becomes
a mere member of a tribe or remains without one."
And now, having noted the original absence of political
control, the resistance it meets with, and the circumstances
which facilitate evasion of it, we may ask what causes aid its
growth. There are several ; and chieftainship becomes settled
in proportion as they cooperate.
§ 472. Among the members of the primitive group, slightly
unlike in various ways and degrees, there is sure to be some
POLITICAL HEADS — CHIEFS, KINGS, ETC. 333
one who has a recognized superiority. This superiority may
be of several kinds which we will briefly glance at.
Though in a sense abnormal, the cases must be recognized
in which the superiority is that of an alien immigrant. The
headmen of the Khonds " are usually descended from some
daring adventurer" of Hindoo blood. Foisyth remarks the
like of " most of the chiefs " in the highlands of Central Asia.
And the traditions of Bochica among the Chibchas, Amalivaca
among the Tamanacs, and Quetzalcoatl among the Mexicans,
imply kindred origins of chieftainships. Here, however, we
ate mainly concerned with superiorities arising within the
tribe.
The first to be named is that which goes with seniority.
Though age, when it brings incapacity, is often among rude
peoples treated with such disregard that the old are killed or
left to die, yet, so long as capacity remains, the greater expe
rience accompanying age generally insures influence. The
chiefless Esquimaux show " deference to seniors and strong
men." Burchell says that over the Bushmen, old men seem
to exercise the authority of chiefs to some extent ; and the
like holds true with the natives of Australia. Among the
Fuegians " the word of an old man is accepted as law by the
young people." Each party of Eock Veddahs "has a head
man, the most energetic senior of the tribe," who divides the
honey, &c. Even with sundry peoples more advanced the
like holds. The Dyaks in North Borneo " have no established
chiefs, but follow the counsels of the old man to whom they
are related;" and Edwards says of the ungoverned Caribs
that " to their old men, indeed, they allowed some kind of
authority/'
Naturally, in rude societies, the strong hand gives predomi
nance, Apart from the influence of age, "bodily strength
alone procures distinction among" the Bushmen. The leaders
of the Tasmanians were tall and powerful men : '•' instead of
an elective or hereditary chieftancy, the place of command
was yielded up to the bully of the tribe." A remark of
334 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
Shirt's implies a like origin of supremacy among the Austra
lians. Similarly in South America. Of people on the
Tapajos, Bates tells us that " the footmarks of the chief could
be distinguished from the rest by their great size and the
length of the stride." And in Bedouin tribes " the fiercest,
the strongest, and the craftiest obtains complete mastery over
his fellows." During higher stages physical vigour long con
tinues to be an all-important qualification; as in Homeric
Greece, where even age did not compensate for decline of
strength : " an old chief, such as Peleus and Laertes, cannot
retain his position." Everyone knows that throughout
Mediaeval Europe, maintenance of headship largely depended
on bodily prowess. And even but two centuries ago in the
Western Isles of Scotland, " every Heir, or young Chieftain of
a Tribe, was oblig'd in Honour to give a publick Specimen of
his Valour, before he was own'd and declar'd Governor."
Mental superiority, alone or joined with other attributes,
is a common cause of predominance. With the Snake Indians,
the chief is no more than "the most confidential person
among the warriors." Schoolcraft says of the chief acknow
ledged by the Creeks that "he is eminent with the people
only for his superior talents and political abilities ;" and that
over the Comanches " the position of a chief is not hereditary,
but the result of his own superior cunning, knowledge, or
success in war." A chief of the Coroados is one " who by his
strength, cunning, and courage had obtained some command
over them." And the Ostiaks " pay respect, in the fullest
sense of the word, to their chief, if wise and valiant; but this
homage is voluntary, and not a prerogative of his position."
Yet another source of governmental power in primitive
tribes is largeness of possessions : wealth being at once an
indirect mark of superiority and a direct cause of influence.
With the Tacullies " any person may become a miuty or chief
who will occasionally provide a village feast." " Among the
Tolewas, in Del Norte Country, money makes the chief."
The Spokanes have " no regularly recognized chief," " but an
POLITICAL HEADS — CHIEFS, KINGS, ETC. 335
intelligent and rich man often controls the tribe by his
influence." Of the chiefless Navajos we read that "every
rich man has many dependants, and these dependants are
obedient to his will, in peace and in war." And to other
evidence that it is the same in Africa, maybe added the state
ment of Heuglin that " a Dor chief is generally the richest
and most reputable man of the village or neighbourhood."
But, naturally, in societies not yet politically developed,
acknowledged superiority is ever liable to be competed with
or replaced by superiority arising afresh.
'* If an Arab, accompanied by his own relations only, has been suc
cessful on many predatory excursions against the enemy, he is joined
by other friends ; and if his success still continues, he obtains the repu
tation of being ' lucky;' and he thus establishes a kind of second, or
inferior agydship in the tribe."
So in Sumatra —
"A commanding aspect, an insinuating manner, a ready fluency in
discourse, and a penetration and sagacity in unravelling the little in
tricacies of their disputes, are qualities which seldom fail to procure to
their possessor respect and influence, sometimes, perhaps, superior to
that of an acknowledged chief."
And supplantings of kindred kinds occur among the Tongans
and the Dyaks.
At the outset then, what we before distinguished as the
principle of efficiency is the sole principle of organization.
Such political headship as exists, is acquired by one whose
fitness asserts itself in the form of greater age, superior
prowess, stronger will, wider knowledge, quicker insight, or
larger wealth. But evidently supremacy which thus depends
exclusively on personal attributes is but transitory. It is
liable to be superseded by the supremacy of some more able
man from time to time arising ; and if not superseded, is
ended by death. We have, then, to inquire how permanent
chieftainship becomes established. Before doing this, how
ever, we must consider more fully the two kinds of superiority
which especially conduce to chieftainship, and their modes of
operation.
80
336 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
§ 473. As bodily vigour is a cause of predominance within
the tribe on occasions daily occurring, still more on occasions
of war is it, when joined with courage, a cause of predomi
nance. War, therefore, tends to make more pronounced any
authority of this kind which is incipient. Whatever reluctai. ce
other members of the tribe have to recognize the leadership
of any one member, is likely to be over-ridden by their desire
for safety when recognition of his leadership furthers that
safety.
This rise of the strongest and most courageous warrior to
power is at first spontaneous, and afterwards by agreement
more or less definite : sometimes joined with a process of
testing. Where, as in Australia, each " is esteemed by the
rest only according to his dexterity in throwing or evading a
spear," it is inferable that such superior capacity for war as
is displayed, generates of itself such temporary chieftainship
as exists. Where, as among the Comanches, any one who
distinguishes himself by taking many " horses or scalps, may
aspire to the honours of chieftaincy, and is gradually inducted
by a tacit popular consent," this natural genesis is clearly
shown. Very commonly, however, there is deliberate choice ;
as by the Flatheads, among whom, " except by the war-chiefs
no real authority is exercised." Skill, strength, courage, and
endurance are in some cases deliberately tested. The King
of Tonga has to undergo a trial : three spears are thrown at
him, which he must ward off. " The ability to climb up a
large pole, well-greased, is a necessary qualification of a fight
ing chief among the Sea Dyaks ;" and St. John says that in
some cases, " it was a custom in order to settle who should be
chief, for the rivals to go out in search of a head : the first in
finding one being victor."
Moreover, the need for an efficient leader tends ever to
re-establish chieftainship where it has become only nominal
or feeble. Edward says of the Caribs that " in war, experi
ence had taught them that subordination was as requisite as
courage ; they therefore elected their captains in their general
POLITICAL HEADS— CHIEFS, KINGS, ETC. 337
assemblies with great solemnity ;" and " put their pretensions
to the proof with circumstances of outrageous barbarity."
Similarly, " although the Abipones neither fear their cacique
as a judge, nor honour him as a master, yet his fellow-soldiers
follow him as a leader and governor of the war, whenever
the enemy is to be attacked or repelled."
These and like facts, of which there are abundance, have
three kindred implications. One is that continuity of war
conduces to permanence of chieftainship. A second is that,
with increase of his influence as successful military head, the
chief gains influence as civil head. A third is that there is
thus initiated a union, maintained through subsequent phases
of social evolution, between military supremacy and political
supremacy. Not only among the uncivilized Hottentots,
Malagasy, and others, is the chief or king head of the army —
not only among such semi-civilized peoples as the ancient
Peruvians and Mexicans, do we find the monarch one with
the Commander-in-chief ; but the histories of extinct and
surviving nations all over the world exemplify the connexion.
In Egypt " in the early ages, the offices of king and general
were inseparable." Assyrian sculptures and inscriptions
represent the despotic ruler as also the conquering soldier; as
do the records of the Hebrews. Civil and military headship
were united among the Homeric Greeks; and in primitive
Eome " the general was ordinarily the king himself." That
throughout European history it has been so, and partially
continues so even now in the more militant societies, needs
no showing.
How command of a wider kind follows military command,
we cannot readily see in societies which have no records : we
can but infer that along with increased power of coercion
which the successful head-warrior gains, naturally goes the
exercise of a stronger rule in civil affairs. That this has
been so among peoples who have known histories, there is
proof. Of the primitive Germans Sohm remarks that the
Roman invasions had one result: —
33 8 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
" The kingship became united with the leadership (become peimanent)
of the army, and, as a consequence, raised itself to a power [instituticn]
in the State. The military subordination under the king-leader fur
thered political subordination under the king. .... Kingship
after the invasions is a kingship clothed with supreme rights — a kirg-
ship in our sense."
In like manner it is observed by Eanke that during the wars
with the English in the fifteenth century —
"The French monarchy, whilst struggling for its very existence,
acquired at the same time, and as the result of the struggle, a firmer
organization. The expedients adopted to carry on the contest grew, as
in other important cases, to national institutions."
And modern instances of the relation between successful
militancy and the strengthening of political control, are fur
nished by the career of Napoleon and the recent history of
the German Empire.
Headship of the society, then, commonly beginning with
the influence gained by the warrior of greatest power, bold
ness, and capacity, becomes established where activity in
war gives opportunity for his superiority to show itself and
to generate subordination ; and thereafter the growth of civil
governorship continues primarily related to the exercise of
militant functions.
§ 474. Very erroneous, however, would be the idea formed
if no further origin for political headship were named. There
is a kind of influence, in some cases operating alone and in
other cases cooperating with that above specified, which is all-
important. I mean the influence possessed by the medicine
man.
That this arises as early as the other, can scarcely be said ;
since, until the ghost-theory takes shape, there is no origin
for it. But when belief in the spirits of the dead becomes
current, the medicine-man, professing ability to control them,
and inspiring faith in his pretensions, is regarded with a
fear which prompts obedience. When we read of the
Thlinkeets that the "supreme feat of a conjuror's power is to
POLITICAL HEADS — CHIEFS, KINGS, ETC. 330
throw .one of his liege spirits into the body of one who
refuses to believe in his power, upon which the possessed is
taken with swooning and fits/' we may imagine the dread he
excites, and the sway he consequently gains. From some of
the lowest races upwards we find illustrations. Fitzroy says
of the " doctor-wizard among the Fuegians " that he is the
most cunning and most deceitful of his tribe, and that he has
great influence over his companions. " Though the Tas-
manians were free from the despotism of rulers, they were
swayed by the counsels, governed by the arts, or terrified by
the fears, of certain wise men or doctors. These could not
only mitigate suffering, but inflict it." A chief of the Haidahs
" seems to be the principal sorcerer, and indeed to possess
little authority save from his connexion with the preter
human powers." The Dakota medicine-men —
" Are the greatest rascals in the tribe, and possess immense influence
over the minds of the young, who are brought up in the belief of
their supernatural powers The war-chief, who leads the
party to war, is always one of these medicine-men, and is believed to
have the power to guide the party to success, or savo it from defeat."
Among more advanced peoples in Africa, supposed abilities to
control invisible beings similarly give influence — strengthen
ing authority otherwise gained. It is so with the Amazulu:
a chief " practises magic on another chief before fighting
with him;" and his followers have great confidence in him
if he has much repute as a magician. Hence the sway
acquired by Langalibalele, who, as Bishop Colenzo says,
" knows well the composition of that intehzi [used for
controlling the weather] ; and he knows well, too, the war-
medicine, i.e., its component parts, being himself a doctor."
Still better is seen the governmental influence thus acquired
*n the case of the king of Obbo, who in time of drought calls
his subjects together and explains to them —
" how much he regrets that their conduct has compelled him to afflict
them with unfavourable weather, but that it is their own fault. . . .
He must have goats and corn. ' No goats, no rain ; that's our contract,
my friends,' says Katchiba. . . . Should his people complain of too
340 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
much rain, lie threatens to pour storms and lightning upon them for
ever, unless they bring him so many hundred baskets of corn, &c.,
&c. . . . His subjects have the most thorough confidence in his power."
And the king is similarly supposed to exercise control over the
weather among the people of Loan go.
A like connexion is traceable in the records of various
extinct peoples in both hemispheres. Of Huitzilopochtli, the
founder of the Mexican power, we read that " a great wizard
he had been, and a sorcerer ;" and every Mexican king on
ascending the throne had to swear " to make the sun go his
course, to make the clouds pour down rain, to make the rivers
run, and all fruits to ripen/' Eeproaching his subjects for
want of obedience, a Chibcha ruler told them they knew
"that it was in his power to afflict them with pestilence,
small-pox, rheumatism, and fever, and to make to grow as
much grass, vegetables, and plants as they wanted." Ancient
Egyptian records yield indications of a similar early belief.
Thothmes III., after being deified, " was considered as the
luck-bringing god of the country, and a preserver against the
evil influence of wicked spirits and magicians." And it was
thus with the Jews : —
" Rabbinical writings are never weary of enlarging upon the magical
power and knowledge of Solomon. He was represented as not only
king of the whole earth, but also as reigning over devils and evil spirits,
arid having the power of expelling them from the bodies of men and
animals and also of delivering people to them."
The traditions of European peoples furnish kindred evidence.
As before shown (§ 198) stories in the Heims-kringla saga
imply that the Scandinavian ruler, Odin, was a medicine
man ; as were also Mort and Frey, his successors. And aftei
recalling the supernatural weapons and supernatural achieve
ments of early heroic kings, we can scarcely doubt that with
them were in some cases associated those ascribed magical
characters whence have descended the supposed powers of
kings to cure diseases by touching. We shall the less doubt
this on finding that like powers were attributed to subordinate
rulers of early origin. There existed certain Breton noblea
POLITICAL HEADS — CHIEFS, KINGS, ETO. 341
whose spittle and touch were said to have curative pro
perties.
Thus one important factor in the genesis of political head
ship, originates with the ghost theory, and the concomitant
rise of a belief that some men, Laving acquired power over
ghosts, can obtain their aid. Generally the chief and the
medicine-man are separate persons ; and there then exists
between them some conflict : they have competing authorities.
But where the ruler joins with his power naturally gained,
this ascribed supernatural power, his authority is necessarily
much increased. Recalcitrant members of his tribe who
might dare to resist him if bodily prowess alone could decide
the struggle, do not dare if they think he can send one of his
posse comitatus of ghosts to torment them. That rulers desire
to unite the two characters, we have, in one case, distinct
proof. Canon Callaway tells us that among the Amazulu, a
chief will endeavour to discover a medicine-man's secrets and
afterwards kill him.
§ 475. Still there recurs the question — How does per
manent political headship arise ? Such political headship as
results from bodily power, or courage, or sagacity, even when
strengthened by supposed supernatural aid, ends with the
life of any savage who gains it. The principle of efficiency,
physical or mental, while it tends to produce a temporary
differentiation into ruler and ruled, does not suffice to produce
a permanent differentiation. There has to cooperate another
principle, to which we now pass.
Already we have seen that even in the rudest groups, age
gives some predominance. Among both Fuegians and
Australians, not only old men, but also old women, exercise
authority. And that this respect for age, apart from other
distinction, is an important factor in establishing political
subordination, is implied by the curious fact that, in sundry
advanced societies characterized by extreme governmental
coercion, the respect due to age takes precedence of all other
342 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
respect. Sliarpe remarks of ancient Egypt that " here as in
Persia and Judsea the king's mother often held rank above his
wife." In China, notwithstanding the inferior position of
women socially and domestically, there exists this supremacy
of the female parent, second only to that of the male parent ;
and the like holds in Japan. As supporting the inference
that subjection to parents prepares the way for subjection to
rulers, I may add a converse fact. Of the Coroados, whose
groups are so incoherent, we read that —
" The paje, however, has as little influence over the will of the multi
tude as any other, for they live without any bond of social union,
neither under a republican nor a patriarchial form of government.
Even family ties are very loose among them .... there is no
regular precedency between the old and the young, for age appears to
enjoy no respect among them."
And, as re-inforcing this converse fact, I may call attention
to § 317, where it was shown that the Mantras, the Caribs,
the Mapuches, the Brazilian Indians, the Gallinomeros, the
Shoshones, the Navajos, the Caliibrnians, the Comanches,
who submit very little or not at all to chiefly rule, display a
filial submission which is mostly small and ceases early.
But now under what circumstances does respect for age
take that pronounced form seen in societies distinguished by
great political subordination ? It was shown in § 319 that
when men, passing from the hunting stage into the pastoral
stage, began to wander in search of food for their domesti
cated animals, they fell into conditions favouring the forma
tion of patriarchal groups. We saw that in the primitive
pastoral horde, the man, released from those earlier tribal
influences which interfere with paternal power, and prevent
settled relations of the sexes, was so placed as to acquire
headship of a coherent cluster : the father became by right
of the strong hand, leader, owner, master, of wife, children,
and all he carried with him. There were enumerated the
influences which tended to make the eldest male a patriarch;
and it was shown that not only the Semites, Aryans, and
Turanian races of Asia have exemplified this relation between
POLITICAL HEADS — CHIEFS, KINGS, ETC. 343
pastoral habits and the patriarchal organization, but that it
recurs in South African races.
Be the causes what they may, however, we find abundant
proof that this family-supremacy of the eldest male, common
among pastoral peoples and peoples who have passed through
the pastoral stage into the agricultural stage, develops into
political supremacy. Of the Santals Hunter says —
11 The village government is purely patriarchial. Each hamlet has an
original founder (the Manjhi-Hanan), who is regarded as the father of
the community. He receives divine honours in the sacred grove, and
transmits his authority to his descendants."
Of the compound family among the Khonds we read in Mac-
pherson that —
" There it [paternal authority] reigns nearly absolute. It is a Khond's
maxim that a man's father is his god, disobedience to whom is the
greatest crime ; and all the members of a family live united in strict
subordination to its head until his death."
And the growth of simple groups into compound and
doubly-compound groups, acknowledging the authority of one
who unites family headship with political headship, has been
made familiar by Sir Henry Maine and others as common to
early Greeks, Romans, Teutons, and as still affecting social
organization among Hindoos and Sclavs.
Here, then, we have making its appearance, a factor which
conduces to permanence of political headship. As was pointed
out in a foregoing chapter, while succession by efficiency
gives plasticity to social organization, succession by inherit
ance gives it stability. No settled arrangement can arise in
a primitive community so long as the function of each unit
is determined exclusively by his fitness ; since, at his death,
the arrangement, in so far as he was a part of it, must be
recommenced. Only when his place is forthwith filled by
one whose claim is admitted, does there begin a differentia
tion which survives through successive generations. And
evidently in the earlier stages of social evolution, while the
coherence is small and the want of structure great, it is requi
site that the principle of inheritance should, especially in re-
344 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
spect of the political headship, predominate over the principle
of efficiency. Contemplation of the facts will make this clear.
§ 476. Two primary forms of hereditary succession have to
be considered. The system of kinship through females, com
mon among rude peoples, results in descent of property and
power to brothers or to the children of sisters; while the
system of kinship through males, general among advanced
peoples, results in descent of property and power to sons 01
daughters. We have first to note that succession through
females is less conducive to stable political headships than is
succession through males.
From the fact named when treating of the domestic rela
tions, that the system of kinship through females arises where
unions of the sexes are temporary or unsettled, it is to be
inferred that this system characterizes societies which are
unadvanced in all ways, political included. We saw in § 294,
that irregular connexions involve paucity and feebleness of
known relationships, and a type of family the successive
links of which are not strengthened by so many collateral
links. A common consequence is that along with descent
through females there either goes no chieftainship, or such
chieftainship as exists is established by merit, or, if here
ditary, is usually unstable. The Australians and Tasmanians
supply typical instances. Among the Haidahs and other
savage peoples of Columbia, " rank is nominally hereditary,
for the most part by the female line ;" and actual chieftain
ship " depends to a great extent on wealth and ability in
war." Of other North American tribes the Chippewas,
Comanches, and Snakes, show us the system of kinship
through females joined with either absence of established
headship or very feeble development of it. Passing to South
America, the Arawaks and the Waraus may be instanced as
having female descent and almost nominal, though hereditary,
chiefs ; and the same may be said of the Caribs.
A group of facts having much signilicance may now be
POLITICAL HEADS — CHIEFS, KINGS, ETC. 345
noted. In many societies where descent of property and
rank in the female line is the rule, an exception is made in
the case of the political head ; and societies exemplifying this
exception are societies in which political headship is relatively
stable. Though in Fiji there is kinship through females, yet,
according to Seemann, the ruler, chosen from the members of
the royal family, is " generally the son " of the late ruler.
In Tahiti, where the two highest ranks follow the primitive
system of descent, male succession to rulership is so pro
nounced that, on the birth of an eldest son the father becomes
simply a regent on his behalf. And among the Malagasy,
along with a prevailing kinship through females, the sovereign
either nominates his successor, or, failing this, the nobles ap
point, and " unless positive disqualification exists, the eldest
son is usually chosen/' Africa furnishes evidence of
varied kinds. Though the Congo people, the Coast Negroes,
and the Inland Negroes have formed communities of some size
and complexity, notwithstanding that kinship through females
obtains in the succession to the throne, yet we read of the
first that allegiance is " vague and uncertain ;" of the second
that, save where free in form, the government is " an insecure
and short-lived monarchic despotism ;" and of the third that,
where the government is not of mixed type, it is " a rigid but
insecure despotism." Meanwhile, in the two most advanced
and powerful states, stability of political headship goes along
with departure, incipient or entire, from succession through
females. In Ashantee, claims to the crown stand in this
order — " the brother, the sister's son, the son ;" and in Dahomey
there is male primogeniture. Further instances of
this transition are yielded by extinct American civilizations.
The Aztec conquerors of Mexico brought with them the
system of kinship through females, and consequent law of
succession ; but this law of succession was partially, or com
pletely, changed to succession through males. In Tezcuco
and Tlacopan (divisions of Mexico) the eldest son inherited
the kingship ; and in Mexico the choice of a king was limited
346 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
to tlio sons and brothers of the preceding king. Then, of
ancient Peru, Gomara says — " nephews inherit, and not sons,
except in the case of the Yncas:" this exception in the
case of the Yncas, having the strange peculiarity that
" the first-born of this brother and sister \i.e., the Ynca and
his principal wife] was the legitimate heir to the king
dom": an arrangement which made the line of descent
unusually narrow and definite. And here we are
brought back to Africa by the parallelism between the case
of Peru and that of Egypt. " In Egypt it was maternal
descent that gave the right to property and to the throne.
The same prevailed in Ethiopia. If the monarch married
out of the royal family the children did not enjoy a legiti
mate right to the crown." When we add the statement that
the monarch was " supposed to be descended from the gods,
in the male and female line ;" and when we join with this
the further statement that there were royal marriages between
brother and sister ; we see that like causes worked like effects
in Egypt and in Peru. For in Peru the Ynca was of sup
posed divine descent ; inherited his divinity on both sides ;
and married his sister to keep the divine blood unmixed.
And in Peru, as in Egypt, there resulted royal succession in
the male line, where, otherwise, succession through females
prevailed. Ancient Ceylon, where " the form of government
was at all times an unmitigated despotism," appears to have
furnished a parallel case ; for Sir J. E. Tennant tells us that
" the Singhelese kings frequently married their sisters/'
With this process of transition from the one law of descent
to the other, implied by these last facts, may be joined some
processes which preceding facts imply. In New Caledonia a
" chief nominates his successor, if possible, in a son or
brother :" the one choice implying descent in the male line
and the other being consistent with descent in either male or
female line. And in Madagascar, where the system of female
kinship prevailed, " the sovereign nominated his successor —
naturally choosing a son/' Further it is manifest that where,
POLITICAL HEADS — CHIEFS, KINGS, ETC. 347
as iii these cases, when no nomination has been made the
nobles choose among members of the royal family, and are
determined in their choice by eligibility, there may be, and
naturally is, a departure from descent in the female line ;
and this system of descent once broken through is likely for
several reasons to be abolished. We are also intro
duced to another transitional process. For some of these cases
are among the many in which succession to rulership is fixed
in respect of the family, but not fixed in respect of the
member of the family — a stage implying a partial but incom
plete stability of the political headship. Several instances
occur in Africa. " The crown of Abyssinia is hereditary in
one family, but elective in the person," says Bruce. " Among
the Timmanees and Bulloms, the crown remains in the same
family, but the chiefs or head men of the country, upon whom
the election of a king depends, are at liberty to nominate a
very distant branch of that family." And a Kaffir " law
requires the successor to the king should be chosen from
amongst some of the youngest princes." In Java and Samoa,
too, while succession to rulership is limited to the family, it
is but partially settled with respect to the individual. And
the like held in Spain (Aragon) before the 12th century;
where " a small number of powerful barons elected their
sovereign on every vacancy, though, as usual in other
countries, out of one family."
That stability of political headship is secured by establish
ment of descent in the male line, is, of course, not alleged.
The allegation simply is that succession after this mode con
duces better than any other to its stability. Of probable
reasons for this, one is that in the patriarchal group, as
developed among those pastoral races from which the leading
civilize! peoples have descended, the sentiment of subordina
tion to the eldest male, fostered by circumstances in the
family and in the gens, becomes instrumental to a wider
subordination in the larger groups eventually formed. Another
probable reason is, that with descent in the male line there is
348 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
more frequently a union of efficiency with supremacy. The
son of a great warrior, or man otherwise capable as a ruler, is
more likely to possess kindred traits than is the son of his
sister ; and if so, it will happen that in those earliest stages
when personal superiority is requisite as well as legitimacy
of claim, succession in the male line will conduce to main
tenance of power by making usurpation more difficult.
There is, however, a more potent influence which aids in
giving permanence to political headship, and which operates
more in conjunction with descent through males than in con
junction with descent through females— an influence probably
of greater importance than any other.
§ 477. When showing, in § 475, how respect for age gene
rates patriarchal authority where descent through males has
arisen, I gave cases which incidentally showed a further result ;
namely, that the dead patriarch, worshipped by his descend
ants, becomes a family deity. In sundry chapters of Vol. I.
were set forth at length the proofs, past and present, furnished
by many places and peoples, of this genesis of gods from
ghosts. Here there remains to be pointed out the strengthen
ing of political headship which inevitably results.
Descent from a ruler who impressed men by his superiority,
and whose ghost, specially feared, is propitiated in so unusual
a degree as to distinguish it from ancestral ghosts at large,
exalte and supports the living ruler in two ways. He is
assumed to inherit from his great progenitor more or less of
the power, apt to be thought supernatural, which characterized
him ; and, making sacrifices to this great progenitor, he is
supposed to maintain such relations with him as insure divine
aid. Passages in Canon Callaway's account of the Amazulu,
show the influence of this belief. It is said, " the Itongo
[ancestral ghost] dwells with the great man, and speaks with
him ; " and then it is also said (referring to a medicine-man),
" the chiefs of the house of Uzulu used not to allow a mere
inferior to be even said to have power over the heaven ; for
POLITICAL HEADS — CHIEFS, KINGS, ETC. 349
it was said that the heaven belonged only to the chief of that
place." These facts yield a definite interpretation of others,
like the following, which show that the authority of the ter
restrial ruler is increased by his alleged relation to the celestial
ruler ; be the celestial ruler the ghost of the remotest known
ancestor who founded the society, or of a conquering invader,
or of a superior stranger.
Of the chiefs among the Kukis, who are descendants of
Hindoo adventurers, we read : —
"All these Rajahs are supposed to have sprung from the same stock,
which it is believed originally had connection with the gods them
selves ; their persons are therefore looked upon with the greatest
respect and almost superstitious veneration, and their commands are in
every case law."
Of the Tahitians EUis says :—
"The god and the king were generally supposed to share the authority
over the mass of mankind between them. The latter sometimes imper
sonated the former. . . . The kings, in some of the islands, were sup
posed to have descended from the gods. Their persons were always sacred."
According to Mariner, " Toritonga and Veachi (hereditary
divine chiefs in Tonga,) are both acknowledged descendants
of chief gods who formerly visited the islands of Tonga/'
And, in ancient Peru " the Ynca gave them [his vassals] to
understand that all he did with regard to them was by an
order and revelation of his father, the Sun."
This re-inforcement of natural power by supernatural
power, becomes extreme where the ruler is at once a descend-
ai.t of the gods and himself a god : a union which is familiar
among peoples who do not distinguish the divine from the
human as we do. It was thus in the case just instanced —
that of the Peruvians. It was thus with the ancient Egyp
tians : the monarch " was the representative of the Divinity
on earth, and of the same substance." Not only did he in
many cases become a god after death, but he was worshipped
as a god during life ; as witness this prayer to Barneses II.
" When they had come before the king . . . they fell down to the
ground, and with their hands they prayed to the king. They praised
this divine benefactor . . . speaking thus : — ' We are come before
350 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
thee, the lord of heaven, lord of the earth, sun, life of the whole world,
lord of time . . . lord of prosperity, creator of the harvest, fashioner
and former of mortals, dispenser of breath to all men ; animator of the
whole company of the gods . . . thou former of the great, creator
of the small . . . thou our lord, our sun, by whose words out of his
mouth Turn lives . . . grant us life out of thy hands . . . and
breath for our nostrils.' "
This prayer introduces us to a remarkable parallel. Barneses,
whose powers, demonstrated by his conquests, were regarded
as so transcendant, is here described as ruling not only the
lower world but also the upper world ; and a like royal power
is alleged in two existing societies where absolutism is simi
larly unmitigated — China and Japan. As shown when treat
ing of Ceremonial Institutions (§ 34?) both the Emperor of
China and the Japanese Mikado, have such supremacy in
heaven that they promote its inhabitants from rank to rank
at will.
That this strengthening of political headship, if not by
ascribed godhood then by ascribed descent from a god (either
the apotheosized ancestor of the tribe or one of the elder
deities), was exemplified among the early Greeks, needs not
be shown. It was exemplified, too, among the Northern
Aryans. " According to the old heathen faith, the pedigree
of the Saxon, Anglian, Danish, Norwegian, and Swedish kings
— probably also those of the German and Scandinavian kings
generally — was traced to Odin, or to some of his immediate
companions or heroic sons/'
It is further to be noted that a god-descended ruler who is
also chief priest of the gods (as he habitually is), obtains a
moie effective supernatural aid than does the ruler to whom
magical powers alone are ascribed. For in the first place the
invisible agents invoked by the magician are not conceived to
be those of highest rank ; whereas the divinely-descended
ruler is supposed to get the help of a supreme invisible agent.
And in the second place, the one form of influence over these
dreaded superhuman beings, tends much less than the othei
to become a permanent attribute of the ruler. Though among
POLITICAL HEADS — CHIEFS, KINGS, ETC. 351
the Chibchas, we find a case in which magical power was
transferred to a successor — though " the cazique of Sogamoso
made known that he [Bochica] had left him heir of all his
sanctity, and that he had the same power of making rain
when he liked," and giving health or sickness (an assertion
believed by the people) ; yet this is an exceptional case.
Speaking generally, the chief whose relations with the other
world are those of a sorcerer does not transmit his relations ;
and he does not therefore establish a supernatural dynasty, as
does the chief of divine descent.
§ 478. And now, having considered the several factors
which cooperate to establish political headship, let us consider
the process of cooperation through its ascending stages. The
truth to be noted is that the successive phenomena which
occur in the simplest groups, habitually recur in the same
order in compound groups, and again in doubly-compound
groups.
As, in the simple group, there is at first a state in which
there is no headship ; so, when simple groups which have
acquired political heads possessing slight authorities, are asso
ciated, there is at first no headship of the cluster. The
Chinooks furnish an example. Describing them Lewis and
Clarke say : — " As these families gradually expand into
bands, or tribes, or nations, the paternal authority is repre
sented by the chief of each association. This chieftain, how
ever, is not hereditary." And then comes the further fact,
which here specially concerns us, that " the chiefs of the
separate villages are independent of each other : " there is no
general chieftain.
As headship in a simple group, at first temporary, ceases
when the war which initiates it ends ; so in a cluster of groups
which severally have recognized heads, a common headship at
first results from a war, and lasts no longer than the war.
Falkner says — " In a general war, when man}- nations enter
into an alliance against a common enemy," the PatagoniaEs
81
352 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
" chose an Apo, or Commander-in-chief, from among the
oldest or most celebrated of the Caciques." The Indians of
the Upper Orinoco live " in hordes of forty or fifty undei a
family government, and they recognize a common chief only
in times of war." So is it in Borneo. " During war the
chiefs of the Sarcbas Dyaks give an uncertain allegiance to a
head chief, or commander-in-chief." It has been the same
in Europe. Seeley remarks that the Sabines " seem to have
had a central government only in war time." Again, " Ger
many had anciently as many republics as it had tribes. Except
in time of war, there was no chief common to all, or even to
any given confederation."
This recalls the fact, indicated when treating of Political
Integration, that the cohesion within compound groups is less
than that within simple groups, and that the cohesion within
the doubly compound is less than that within the compound.
What was there said of cohesion may here be said of the sub
ordination conducing to it ; for we find that when, by con
tinuous war, a permanent headship of a compound group has
been generated, it is less stable than the headships of the simple
groups are. Often it lasts only for the life of the man who
achieves it ; as among the Karens and the Maganga, instanced
in § 226, and as among the Dyaks, of whom Boyle says —
" It is an exceptional case if a Dyak chief is raised to an acknow
ledged supremacy over the other chiefs. If he is so raised he can lay
no claim to his power except that of personal merit and the consent of
his former equals ; and his death is instantly followed by the disruption
of his dominions."
E 7en where there has arisen a headship of the compound group
which lasts beyond the life of its founder, it remains for a long
time not equal in stability to the headships of the component
groups. Pallas, while describing the Mongol and Kalmuck
chiefs as having unlimited power over their dependants, says
that the khans had in general only an uncertain and weak
authority over the subordinate chiefs. Concerning the Arau-
canians, Thompson says " the ulmenes are the lawful judges
POLITICAL HEADS — CHIEFS, KINGS, ETC. 353
of their vassals, and for this reason their authority is less pre
carious than that of the higher officers " — the central rulers.
Of the Kaffirs we read : — " They are all vassals of the king,
chiefs, as well as those under them; but the subjects are
generally so blindly attached to their chiefs, that they will
follow them against the king." Europe has furnished kindred
examples. Of the Homeric Greeks Mr. Gladstone writes : —
" It is probable that the subordination of the sub-chief to his
local sovereign was a closer tie than that of the local sovereign
to the head of Greece." And during the early feudal period
in the West, allegiance to the minor but proximate ruler was
stronger than that to the major but remote ruler.
In the compound group, as in the simple group, the pro
gress towards stable headship is furthered by transition from
succession by choice to succession by inheritance. During
early stages of the independent tribe, chieftainship when not
acquired by individual superiority tacitly yielded to, is ac
quired by election. In North America it is so with the Aleuts,
the Comanches, and many more ; in Polynesia it is so with
the Land Dyaks ; and, before the Mahommedan conquest, it
was so in Java. Among the hill-peoples of India it is so with
the Nagas and others. In sundry regions the change to heredi
tary succession is shown by different tribes of the same race.
Of the Karens we read that " in many districts the chieftain
ship is considered hereditary, but in more it is elective."
Some Chinook villages have chiefs who inherit their powers,
though mostly they are chosen. Similarly, the com
pound group is at first ruled by an elected head. Several
examples come to us from Africa. Bastian tells us that " in
many parts of the Congo region the king is chosen by the
petty princes." The crown of Yariba is not hereditary:
" the chiefs invariably electing, from the wisest and most
sagacious of their own body." And the king of Ibu, says
Allen, seems to be " elected by a council of sixty elders, or
chiefs of large villages." In Asia it is thus with the Kukis.
" One, among all the Eajahs of each class, is chosen to be the Prudham
354 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
or chief Rajah of that clan. The dignity is not hereditary, as is the
case with the minor Eajahships, but is enjoyed by each Eajah of the
clan in rotation.'
So has it been in Europe. Though by the early Greeks here
ditary right was in a considerable measure recognized, yet the
case of Telemachus implies " that a practice, either approach
ing to election, or in some way involving a voluntary action
on the part of the subjects, or of a portion of them, had to be
gone through." The like is true of ancient Eome. That its
monarchy was elective " is proved by the existence in later
times of an office of interrex, which implies that the kingly
power did not devolve naturally upon a hereditary successor."
Later on it was thus with Western peoples. Up to the begin
ning of the tenth century " the formality of election sub
sisted . . . in every European kingdom ; and the imper
fect right of birth required a ratification by public assent."
And it was once thus with ourselves. Among the early
English the Bretwaldship, or supreme headship over the
minor kingdoms, was at first elective ; and the form of elec
tion continued long traceable in our history. Moreover, it is
observable that the change to hereditary succession is by
assent, as in France. " The first six kings of this dynasty
[the Capetian] procured the co-optation of their sons, by
having them crowned during their own lives. And this was
not done without the consent of the chief vassals."
The stability of the compound headship, made greater by
efficient leadership in war and by establishment of hereditary
succession, is further increased when there cooperates the
additional factor — supposed supernatural origin or super
natural sanction. Everywhere, up from a New Zealand
king, who is strictly tapu, or sacred, we may trace this in
fluence ; and occasionally, where divine descent or magical
powers are not claimed, there is a claim to origin that is
extraordinary. Asia yields an example in the Fodli dynasty,
which reigned 150 years in South Arabia — a six-fingered
dynasty, regarded with awe by the people because of its con-
POLITICAL HEADS — CHIEFS, KINGS, ETC. 355
tinuously-inherited malformation. Europe of the Merovin
gian period yields an example. In pagan times the king's
race had an alleged divine origin; but in Christian times,
says "Waitz, when they could no longer mount back to the
gods, a more than natural origin was alleged : " a sea-monster
ravished the wife of Chlogio as she sat by the sea-shore,
and from this embrace Merovech sprang." Later days show
us the gradual acquisition of a sacred or semi-supernatural
character, where it did not originally exist. Divine assent to
their supremacy was asserted by the Carolingian kings.
During the later feudal age, rare exceptions apart, kings
" were not far removed from believing themselves near rela
tives of the masters of heaven. Kings and gods were col
leagues." In the 17th century this belief was endorsed by
divines. " Kings," says Bossuet, " are gods, and share in a
manner the divine independence."
So that the headship of a compound group, arising tempo
rarily during war, then becoming, with frequent cooperation
of the groups, settled for life by election, passing presently
into the hereditary form, and gaining permanence as fast as
the law of succession grows well-defined and undisputed,
acquires its greatest stability only when the king is regarded
as a deputy god, or when, if he is not supposed to inherit a
divine nature, he is supposed to have a divine commission.
§ 479. Ascribed divine nature, or divine descent, or divine
commission, naturally gives to the political head unlimited
sway. In theory, and often to a large extent in practice, he
is owner of his subjects and of the territory they occupy.
Where militancy is pronounced, and the claims of a con
queror unqualified, it is indeed to a considerable degree thus
with those uncivilized peoples who do not ascribe super
natural characters to their rulers. Among the Zulu Kaffirs
the chief "exercises supreme power over the lives of his
people ;" the Bheel chiefs " have a power over the lives and
property of their own subjects ;" and in Fiji the subject is
356 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
property. But it is still more thus where the ruler is con
sidered more than human. Astley tells us that in Loango
the king is " called samba and pongo, that is, god :" and,
according to Proyart, the Loango people "say their lives
and goods belong to the king." In Wasoro (East Africa)
" the king has unlimited power of life and death ... in
some tribes ... he is almost worshipped." In Msam-
bara the people say " we are all slaves of the Zumbe (king),
who is our Mulungu" [god]. " By the state law of Dahomey,
as at Benin, all men are slaves to the king, and most women
are his wives ;" and in Dahomey the king is called " the
spirit." The Malagasy speak of their king as " our god ;" and
he is lord of the soil, owner of all property, and master of
his subjects. Their time and services are at his command."
In the Sandwich Islands the king, personating the god, utters
oracular responses ; and his power " extends over the pro
perty, liberty, and lives of his people." Various Asiatic
rulers, whose titles ascribe to them divine descent and nature,
stand in like relations to their peoples. In Siam " the king
is master not only of the persons but really of the property
of his subjects : he disposes of their labour and directs their
movements at will." Of the Burmese we read — " their goods
likewise, and even their persons are reputed his [the king's]
property, and on this ground it is that he selects for his con
cubine any female that may chance to please his eye." In
China "there is only one who possesses authority— the
Emperor. ... A wang, or king, has no hereditary pos
sessions, and lives upon the salary vouchsafed by the
Emperor. . . . He is the only possessor of the landed
property." And the like is alleged of the divinely-descended
Japanese Mikado : " his majesty, although often but a child
a few years old, still dispensed ranks and dignities, and the
ownership of the soil always in reality resided in him."
Of course, where the political head has unlimited power —
where, as victorious invader, his subjects lie at his mercy, or
where, as divinely descended, his will may not be questioned
POLITICAL HEADS— CHIEFS, KINGS, ETC. 357
without impiety, or where he unites the characters of con
queror and god, he naturally absorbs every kind of authority.
He is at once military head, legislative head, judicial head,
ecclesiastical head. The fully developed king is the supreme
centre of every social structure and director of every social
function.
§ 480. In a small tribe it is practicable for the chief per
sonally to discharge all the duties of his office. Besides
leading the other warriors in battle, he has time to settle
disputes, he can sacrifice to the ancestral ghost, he can keep
the village in order, he can inflict punishments, he can regu
late trading transactions ; for those governed by him are but
few, and they live within a narrow space. When he acquires
the headship of many united tribes, both the increased
amount of business and the wider area covered by his sub
jects, put difficulties in the way of exclusively personal
administration. It becomes necessary to employ others for
the purposes of gaining information, conveying commands,
seeing them executed ; and in course of time the assistants
thus employed grow into established heads of departments
with deputed authorities.
While this development of governmental structures in
creases the ruler's power, by enabling him to deal with more
numerous affairs, it, in another way, decreases his power ; for
his actions are more and more modified by the instrumentali
ties through which they are effected. Those who watch the
working of administrations, no matter of what kind, have
forced upon them the truth that a head regulative agency is
at once helped and hampered by its subordinate agencies.
In a philanthropic association, a scientific society, or a club,
those who govern find that the organized officialism which
they have created, often impedes, and not unfrequently
defeats, their aims. Still more is it so with the immensely
larger administrations of the State. Through deputies the
ruler receives his information; by them his orders are
358 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
executed ; and as fast as his connexion with affairs "becomes
indirect, his control over affahs diminishes ; until, in extreme
cases, he either dwindles into a puppet in the hands of his
chief deputy or has his place usurped by him.
Strange as it seems, the two causes which conspire to give
permanence to political headship, also, at a later stage, con
spire to reduce the political head to an automaton, executing
the wills of the agents he has created. In the first place,
when hereditary succession is finally settled in some line of
descent rigorously prescribed, the possession of supreme
power becomes independent of capacity for exercising it.
The heir to a vacant throne may be, and often is, too young
for discharging its duties ; or he may be, and often is, too
feeble in intellect, too deficient in energy, or too much occu
pied with the pleasures which his position offers in unlimited
amounts. The result is that in the one case the regent, and
in the other the chief minister, becomes the actual ruler. In
the second place, that sacredness which supposed divine origin
gives, makes him inaccessible to the ruled. All intercourse
between him and them must be through the agents he
surrounds himself with. Hence it becomes difficult or im
possible for him to learn more than they choose him to know ;
and there follows inability to adapt his commands to the re
quirements, and inability to discover whether his commands
have been fulfilled. His authority is consequently used to
give effect to the purposes of his agents.
Even in so relatively simple a society as that of Tonga,
we find an example. There is an hereditary sacred chief who
" was originally the sole chief, possessing temporal as well as
spiritual power, and regarded as of divine origin," but who is
now politically powerless. Abyssinia shows us something
analogous. Holding no direct communication with his sub
jects, and having a sacredness such that even in council he
sits unseen, the monarch is a mere dummy. In Gondar, one
of the divisions of Abyssinia, the king must belong to the
royal house of Solomon, but any one of the turbulent chiefs
POLITICAL HEADS— CHIEFS, KINGS, ETC. 359
who has obtained ascendancy by force of arms, becomes a
Eas- -a prime minister or real monarch ; though he requires
" a titular emperor to perform the indispensable ceremony of
nominating a Eas," since the name, at least, of emperor " is
deemed essential to render valid the title of Eas." The case
of Thibet may be named as one in which the sacredness of
the original political head is dissociated from the claim based
on hereditary descent ; for the Grand Llama, considered as
" God the Father," incarnate afresh in each new occupant of
the throne, is discovered among the people at large by certain
indications of his godhood. But with his divinity, involving
disconnexion with temporal matters, there goes absence of
political power. A like state of things exists in Bhotan.
" The Dhurma Eaja is looked upon by the Bhotanese in the same
light as the Grand Lama of Thibet is viewed by his subjects — namely
as a perpetual incarnation of the Deity, or Bhudda himself in a corpo
real form. During the interval between his death and reappearance,
or, more properly speaking, until he has reached an age sufficiently
mature to ascend his spiritual throne, the office of Dhurma Eaja is
tilled by proxy from amongst the priesthood."
And then along with this sacred ruler there co-exists a secular
ruler. Bhotan " has two nominal heads, known to us and to
the neighbouring hill-tribes under the Hindoostanee names
of the Dhurma and the Deb Eajas. . . . The former is
the spiritual head, the latter the temporal one." Though in
this case the temporal head has not great influence (probably
because the priest-regent, whose celibacy prevents him from
founding a line, stands in the way of unchecked assumption
of power by the temporal head), still the existence of a tem
poral head implies a partial lapsing of political functions out
of the hands of the original political head. But the most
remarkable, and at the same time most familiar, example, is
that furnished by Japan. Here the supplanting of inherited
authority by deputed authority is exemplified, not in the
central government alone, but in the local governments.
" Next to the prince and his family came the Jcaros or * elders.' Their
office became hereditary, and, like the princes, they in many instances
360 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
became effete. The business of what we may call the clan would thus
fall into the hands of any clever man or set of men of the lower ranks,
who, joining ability to daring and unscrupulousness, kept the princes
and the karos out of sight, but surrounded with empty dignity, and,
commanding the opinion of the bulk of the samarai or military class,
wielded the real power themselves. They took care, however, to perform
every act in the name of the faineants, their lords, and thus we hear
of ... daimios, just as in the case of the Emperors, accomplishing
deeds ... of which they were perhaps wholly ignorant."
This lapsing of political power into the hands of ministers
was, in the case of the central government, doubly illustrated.
Successors as they were of a god-descended conqueror whose
rule was real, the Japanese Emperors gradually became only
nominal rulers ; partly because of the sacredness which sepa
rated them from the nation, and partly because of the early
age at which the law of succession frequently enthroned
them. Their deputies consequently gained predominance.
The regency in the ninth century " became hereditary in the
Fujiwara [sprung from the imperial house], and these regents
ultimately became all-powerful. They obtained the privilege
of opening all petitions addressed to the sovereign, and of pre
senting or rejecting them at their pleasure." And then, in
course of time, this usurping agency had its own authority
usurped in like manner. Again succession by fixed rule was
rigorously adhered to; and again seclusion entailed loss of
hold on affairs. " High descent was the only qualification for
office, and unfitness for functions was not regarded in the
choice of officials." Besides the Shogun's four confidential
officers, " no one else could approach him. Whatever might
be the crimes committed at Kama Koura, it was impossible,
through the intrigues of these favourites, to complain of
them to the Seogoun." The result was that " subsequently
this family . . . gave way to military commanders, who,"
however, often became the instruments of other chiefs.
Though less definitely, this process was exemplified during
early times in Europe. The Merovingian kings, to whom there
clung a tradition of supernatural origin, and whose order of
POLITICAL HEADS — CHIEFS, KINGS, ETC. 361
succession was so far settled that minors reigned, fell under
the control of those who had become chief ministers. Long
before Childeric, the Merovingian family had ceased to govern.
" The treasures and the power of the kingdom had passed into the
hands of the prefects of the palace, who were called l mayors of the
palace,' and to whom the supreme power really belonged. The prince
was obliged to content himself with bearing the name of king, having
flowing locks and a long beard, sitting on the chair of State, and repre
senting the image of the monarch."
•*•
§ 481. From the Evolution-standpoint wo are thus enabled
to discern the relative beneficence of institutions which, con
sidered absolutely, are not beneficent; and are taught to
approve as temporary that which, as permanent, we abhor.
The evidence obliges us to admit that subjection to despots
has been largely instrumental in advancing civilization.
Induction and deduction alike prove this,
If, on the one hand, we group together those wandering
headless hordes which are found here and there over the
Earth, they show us that, in the absence of political organiza
tion, little progress has taken place ; and if we contemplate
those settled simple groups which have but nominal heads,
we are shown that though there is some development of the
industrial arts and some cooperation, the advance is but
small. If, on the other hand, we glance at those ancient
societies in which considerable heights of civilization were
first reached, we see them under autocratic rule. In America,
purely personal government, restricted only by settled customs,
characterized the Mexican, Central American, and Chibcha
states ; and in Peru, the absolutism of the divine king was
unqualified. In Africa, ancient Egypt exhibited very con
spicuously this connexion between despotic control and social
evolution. Throughout the distant past it was repeatedly
displayed in Asia, from the Accadian civilization downwards ;
and the still extant civilizations of Siam, Burmah, China, and
Japan, re-illustrate it. Early European societies, too, where
not characterized by centralized despotism, were still cha-
362 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
racterized by diffused patriarchal despotism. Only among
modern peoples, whose ancestors passed through the discipline
given under this social form, and who have inherited its
effects, is civilization being dissociated from subjection to
individual will.
The necessity there has been for absolutism is best seen on
observing that, during inter-tribal and inter-national conflicts,
those have conquered who, other things equal, were the
more obedient to their chiefs and kings. And since in
early stages, military subordination and social subordination
go together, it results that, for a long time, the conquering
societies continued to be the despotically-governed societies.
Such exceptions as histories appear to show us, really prove
the rule. In the conflict between Persia and Greece, the
Greeks, but for a mere accident, would have been ruined by
that division of councils which results from absence of sub
jection to a single head. And their habit of appointing a
dictator when in great danger from enemies, implies that the
Romans had discovered that efficiency in war requires un
divided control.
Thus, leaving open the question whether, in the absence of
war, wandering primitive groups could ever have developed
into settled civilized communities, we conclude that, under
such conditions as there have been, those struggles for
existence among societies which have gone on consolidating
smaller into larger, until great nations have been produced,
necessitated the development of a social type characterized
by personal rule of a stringent kind.
§ 482. To make clear the genesis of this leading political
institution, let us set down in brief the several influences
which have conspired to effect it, and the several stages
passed through.
In the rudest groups, resistance to the assumption of
supremacy by any individual, usually prevents the establish
ment of settled headship; though some influence is com-
POLITICAL HEADS— CHIEFS, KINGS, ETC. 363
monly acquired by superiority of strength, or courage, or
sagacity, or possessions, or the experience accompanying age.
In such groups, and in tribes somewhat more advanced,
two kinds of superiority conduce more than all others to
predominance — that of the warrior and that of the medicine
man. Usually separate, but sometimes united in the same
person, and then greatly strengthening him, both of these
superiorities tending to initiate political headship, continue
thereafter to be important factors in developing it.
At first, however, the supremacy acquired by great natural
power, or supposed supernatural power, or both, is transitory
— ceases with the life of one who has acquired it. So long
as the principle of efficiency alone operates, political headship
does not become settled. It becomes settled only when there
cooperates the principle of inheritance.
The custom of reckoning descent through females, which
characterizes many rude societies and survives in others that
have made considerable advances, is less favourable to esta
blishment of permanent political headship than is the custom
of reckoning descent through males; and in sundry semi-
civilized societies distinguished by permanent political head
ships, inheritance through males has been established in the
ruling house while inheritance through females survives in
the society at large.
Beyond the fact that reckoning descent through males
conduces to a more coherent family, to a greater culture of
subordination, and to a more probable union of inherited
position with inherited capacity, there is the more important
fact that it fosters ancestor-worship, and the consequent re
inforcing of natural authority by supernatural authority.
Development of the ghost-theory, leading as it does to special
fear of the ghosts of powerful men, until, where many tribes
have been welded together by a conque-or, his ghost acquires
in tradition the pre-eminence of a god, produces two effects.
In the first place his descendant, ruling after him, is supposed
to partake of his divine nature ; and in the secoi:d place, by
364 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
propitiatory sacrifices to him, is supposed to obtain his aid.
Rebellion hence conies to be regarded as alike wicked and
hopeless.
The processes by which political headships are established
repeat themselves at successively higher stages. In simple
groups chieftainship is at first temporary — ceases with the
war which initiated it. When simple groups that have
acquired permanent political heads, unite for military pur
poses, the general chieftainship is originally but temporary.
As in simple groups chieftainship is at the outset habitually
elective, and becomes hereditary at a later stage ; so chief
tainship of the compound group is habitually elective at the
outset, and only later passes into the hereditary. Similarly
in some cases where a doubly-compound society is formed.
Further, this later-established power of a supreme ruler, at
first given by election and presently gained by descent, is
commonly less than that of the local rulers in their own
localities ; and when it becomes greater, it is usually by the
help of ascribed divine origin or ascribed divine commission.
Where, in virtue of supposed supernatural genesis or
authority, the king has become absolute, and, owning both
subjects and territory, exercises all powers, he is obliged by
the multiplicity of his affairs to depute his powers. There
follows a reactive restraint due to the political machinery he
creates ; and this machinery ever tends to become too strong
for him. Especially where rigorous adhesion to the rule of
inheritance brings incapables to the throne, or where ascribed
divine nature causes inaccessibility save through agents, or
where both causes conspire, power passes into the hands of
deputies. The legitimate ruler becomes an automaton and
his chief agent the real ruler ; and this agent, again, in some
cases passing through parallel stages, himself becomes an auto
maton and his subordinates the rulers.
Lastly, by colligation and comparison of the facts, we are
led to recognize the indirectly-achieved benefits which have
followed the directly-inflicted evils of personal government.
POLITICAL HEADS — CHIEFS, KINGS, ETC. 365
Headship of the conquering chief has "been a normal accom
paniment of that political integration without which any high
degree of social evolution would probably have been impos
sible. Only by imperative need for combination in war were
primitive men led into cooperation. Only by subjection to
imperative command was such cooperation made efficient.
And only by the cooperation thus initiated were made pos
sible those other forms of cooperation characterizing civilized
life.
CHAPTER VII.
COMPOUND POLITICAL HEADS.
§ 483. In the preceding chapter we traced the development
of the first element in that tri-une political structure which
everywhere shows itself at the outset. We pass now to the
development of the second element — the group of leading
men among whom the chief is, at first, merely the most con
spicuous. Under what conditions this so evolves as to sub
ordinate the other two, what causes make it narrower, and
what causes widen it until it passes into the third, we have
here to observe.
If the innate feelings and aptitudes of a race have large
shares in determining the sizes and cohesions of the social
groups it forms, still more must they have large shares in de
termining the relations which arise among the members of
such groups. While the mode of life followed tends to gene
rate this or that political structure, its effects are always com
plicated by the effects of inherited character. Whether or
not the primitive state in which governing power is equally
distributed among all warriors or all elders, passes into the
state in which governing power is monopolized by one,
depends in part on the life of the group as predatory or
peaceful, and in part on the natures of its members as
prompting them to oppose dictation more or less doggedly.
A few facts will make this clear.
The A.rafuras (Papuan Islanders) who " live in peace and
COMPOUND POLITICAL HEADS. 367
brotherly love," have no other " authority among them than
the decisions of their elders." Among the harmless Todas
" all disputes and questions of right and wrong are settled
either by arbitration or by a Punchayet — i.e., a council of
five." Of the Bodo and the Dhimals, described as averse to
military service, and " totally free from arrogance, revenge,
cruelty, and fierte," we read that though each of their small
communities has a nominal head who pays the tribute on its
behalf, yet he is without power, and " disputes are settled
among themselves by juries of elders." In these
cases, besides absence of the causes which bring about chiefly
supremacy, may be noted the presence of causes which
directly hinder it. The Papuans generally, typified by the
Arafuras above-named, while described by Modera, Eoss,
and Kolff, as " good-naTured," " of a mild disposition," kind
and peaceful to strangers, are said by Earl to be unfit for
military action : " their impatience of control . . . utterly
precludes that organization which would enable" the Papuans
" to stand their ground against encroachments." The Bodo
and the Dhimals while " they are void of all violence towards
their own people or towards their neighbours" also " resist
injunctions, injudiciously urged, with dogged obstinacy."
And of a kindred "very fascinating people," the Lepchas,
amiable, peaceful, kind, as travellers unite in describing
them, and who refuse to take service as soldiers, we are told
that they will " undergo great privation rather than submit
to oppression or injustice."
Where the repugnance to control is strong, an uncen-
tralized political organization is maintained notwithstanding
the warlike activities which tend to initiate chieftainship.
The Nagas " acknowledge no king among themselves, and
deride the idea of such a personage among others ;" their
" villages are continually at feud ;" " every man being his own
master, his passions and inclinations are ruled by his share of
brute force." And then we further find that —
" Petty disputes and disagreements about property are settled by a
82
368 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
council of elders, the litigants voluntarily submitting to their arbitra
tion. But correctly speaking, there is not the shadow of a constituted
authority in the Naga community, and, wonderful as it may seem, this
want of government does not lead to any marked degree of anarchy."
Similarly among the warlike tribes of North America.
Speaking of these people at large, Schoolcraft says that " they
all wish to govern, and not to be governed. Every India a
thinks he has a right to do as he pleases, and that no one is
better than himself; and he will fight before he will give up
what he thinks right." Of the Comanches, as an example, he
remarks that " the democratic principle is strongly implanted
in them ;" and that for governmental purposes " public
councils are held at regular intervals during the year." Fur
ther, we read that in districts of ancient Central America
there existed somewhat more advanced societies which, though
warlike, were impelled by a kindred jealousy to provide
against monopoly of power. The government was carried on
by an elective council of old men who appointed a war chief;
and this war chief, "if suspected of plotting against the
safety of the commonwealth, or for the purpose of securing
supreme power in his own hands, was rigorously put to death
by the council."
Though the specialities of character which thus lead certain
kinds of men in early stages to originate compound political
heads, and to resist, even under stress of war, the rise of
single political heads, are innate, we are not without clues to
the circumstances which have made them innate ; and with
a view to interpretations presently to be made, it will be
useful to o-lance at these. The Comanches and kindred
O
tribes, roaming about in small bands, active and skilful
horsemen, have, through long past periods, been so con
ditioned as to make coercion of one man by another difficult.
So, too, has it been, though in another way, with the Nagas.
" They inhabit a rough and intricate mountain range ;" and
their villages are perched " on the crests of ridges." Again,
significant evidence is furnished by a remark of Captain
Burton to the effect that in Africa, as in Asia, there are three
COMPOUND POLITICAL HEADS. 369
distinct forms of government — military despotisms, feudal
monarchies, and rude republics: the rude republics being
those formed by " the Bedouin tribes, the hill people, and the
jungle races." Clearly, the names of these last show that
they inhabit regions which, hindering by their physical
characters a centralized form of government, favour a more
diffused form of government, and the less decided political
subordination which is its concomitant.
These facts are obviously related to certain others already
named. We saw in § 17, and again in § 449, that it is rela
tively easy to form a large society if the country is one within
which all parts are readily accessible, while it has barriers
through which exit is difficult ; and that, conversely, forma
tion of a large society is prevented, or greatly delayed, by
difficulties of communication within the occupied area, and
by facilities of escape from it. Here we see, further, that not
only is political integration under its primary aspect of in
creasing mass, hindered by these last-named physical condi
tions, but that there is hindrance to the development of a more
integrated form of government. The circumstances which
impede social consolidation also impede the concentration of
political power.
The truth here chiefly concerning us, however, is that the
continued presence of the one or the other set of conditions,
fosters a character to which either the centralized political
organization or the diffused political organization is appro
priate. Existence, generation after generation, in a region
where despotic control has arisen, produces an adapted type
of nature ; partly by daily habit and partly by survival of
those most fit for living under such control. Contrariwise, in
a region favouring preservation of their independence by
small groups, there is a strengthening, through successive
ages, of sentiments averse to restraint ; since, not only are
these sentiments exercised in all members of a group
by resisting the efforts from time to time made to sub
ordinate it, but, on the average, those who most per-
370 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
tinaciously resist are those who, remaining unsubdued, and
transmitting their mental traits to posterity, determine the
character of the race.
Having thus glanced at the effects of the factors, external
and internal, as displayed in simple tribes, we shall under
stand how they cooperate when, by migration or otherwise,
such tribes fall into circumstances favouring the growth of
large societies.
§ 484. The case of an uncivilized people of the nature de
scribed, who have in recent times shown what occurs when
union of small groups into great ones is prompted, will best
initiate the interpretation.
The Iroquois nations, each made up of many tribes pre
viously hostile, had to defend themselves against European
invaders. Combination for this purpose among these five
(and finally six) nations, necessitated a recognition of equality
among them ; since agreement to join would not have been
arrived at had it been required that some divisions should be
subject to others. The groups had to cooperate on the under
standing that their "rights, privileges and obligations" should
be the same. Though the numbers of permanent and here
ditary sachems appointed by the respective nations to form
the Great Council, differed, yet the voices of the several
nations were equal. Omitting details of the organization, we
have to note, first, that for many generations, notwithstanding
the wars which this league carried on, its constitution re
mained stable — no supreme individual arose; and, second,
that this equality among the powers of the groups co-existed
with inequality within each group : the people had no share
in its government.
A clue is thus furnished to the genesis of those compound
heads with which ancient history familiarizes us. We are
enabled to see how there came to co-exist in the same socie
ties, some institutions of a despotic kind, W7ith other institu
tions of a kind appearing to be based on the principle of
COMPOUND POLITICAL HEADS. 371
i
equality, and often confounded with free institutions. Let us
recall the antecedents of those early European peoples who
developed governments of this form.
During the wandering pastoral life, subordination to a
single head was made habitual. A recalcitrant member of
any group had either to submit to the authority under which
he had grown up, or, rebelling, had to leave the group and
face those risks which unprotected life in the wilderness
threatened. The establishment of this subordination was
furthered by the more frequent survival of groups in which
it was greatest ; since, in the conflicts between groups, those
of which the members were insubordinate, ordinarily being
both smaller and less able to cooperate effectually, were the
more likely to disappear. But now to the fact that in such
families and clans, obedience to the father and to the patriarch
was fostered by circumstances, has to be added the fact above
emphasized, that circumstances also fostered the sentiment of
liberty in the relations between clans. The exercise of power
by one of them over another, was made difficult by wide
scattering and by great mobility; and with successful oppo
sition to external coercion, or evasion of it, carried on through
numberless generations, the tendency to resent and resist all
strange authority was likely to become strong.
Whether, when groups thus disciplined aggregate, they
assume this or that form of political organization, depends
partly, as already implied, on the conditions into which they
fall. Even could we omit those differences between Mongols,
Semites, and Aryans, established in prehistoric times by
causes unknown to us, or even had complete likeness of
nature been produced among them by long-continued pastoral
life ; yet large societies formed by combinations of their
small hordes, could be similar in type only under similar
circumstances. In unfavourableness of circumstances is to
be found the reason why Mongols and Semites, where they
have settled and multiplied, have failed to maintain the
autonomies of their hordes after combination of them, and to
372 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
evolve tlie resulting institutions. Even the Aryans, among
whom chiefly the less concentrated forms of political rule
have arisen, show us that almost everything depends on
favourable or unfavourable conditions fallen into. Originally
inheriting in common the mental traits generated during
their life in the Hindu Koosh and its neighbourhood, the
different divisions of the race have developed different insti
tutions and accompanying characters. Those of them who
spread into the plains of India, where great fertility made
possible a large population, to the control of which there
were small physical impediments, lost their independence of
nature, and did not evolve political systems like those which
grew up among their Western kindred, under circumstances
furthering maintenance of the original character.
The implication is, then, that where groups of the patri
archal type fall into regions permitting considerable growth
of population, but having physical structures which impede
the centralization of power, compound political heads will
arise, and for a time sustain themselves, through cooperation
of the two factors — independence of local groups and need
for union in war. Let us consider some examples.
§ 485. The island of Crete has numerous high mountain
valleys containing good pasturage, and provides many seats
for strongholds — seats which ruins prove that the ancient
inhabitants utilized. Similarly with the mainland of Greece.
A complicated mountain system cuts off its parts from one
another and renders each difficult of access. Especially is
this so in the Peloponnesus ; and, above all, in the part occu
pied by the Spartans. It has been remarked that the State
which possesses both sides of Taygetus, has it in its power to
be master of the peninsula : " it is the Acropolis of the Pelo-
ponnese, as that country is of the rest of Greece."
When, over the earlier inhabitants, there came successive
waves of Hellenic conquerors, these brought with them the
type of nature and organization common to the Aryans, dis-
COMPOUND POLITICAL HEADS, 373
playing the united traits above described. Such a people
taking possession of such a land, inevitably fell in course of
time " into as many independent clans as the country itself
was divided by its mountain chains into valleys and dis
tricts." From separation resulted alienation ; so that those
remote from one another, becoming strangers, became ene
mies. In early Greek times the clans, occupying mountain
villages, were so liable to incursions from one another that
the planting of fruit trees was a waste of labour. There
existed a state like that seen at present among such Indian-
hill tribes as the Nagas.
Though preserving the tradition of a common descent, and
owning allegiance to the oldest male representative of the
patriarch, a people spreading over a region which thus cut off
from one another even adjacent small groups, and still more
those remoter clusters of groups arising in course of genera
tions, would inevitably become disunited in government:
subjection to a general head would be more and more difficult
to maintain, and subjection to local heads would alone con
tinue practicable. At the same time there would arise, under
such conditions, increasing causes of insubordination. When
the various branches of a common family are so separated as
to prevent intercourse, their respective histories, and the lines
of descent of their respective heads, must become unknown,
or but partially known, to one another ; and claims to supre
macy made now by this local head and now by that, are cer
tain to be disputed. If we remember how, even in settled
societies having records, there have been perpetual conflicts
about rights of succession, and how, down to our own day,
there are frequent law-suits to decide on heirships to titles
and properties, we cannot but infer that in a state like that
of the early Greeks, the difficulty of establishing the legiti
macy of general headships, conspiring with the desire to
assert independence and the ability to maintain it, inevitably
entailed lapse into numerous local headships. Of course,
under conditions varying in each locality, splittings-up of
374 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
wider governments into narrower went to different extents ;
and naturally, too, re-establishments of wider governments or
extensions of narrower ones in some cases took place. But,
generally, the tendency under such conditions was to form
small independent groups, severally having the patriarchal
type of organization. Hence, then, the decay of such king
ships as are implied in the Iliad. As Grote writes — " When we
approach historical Greece, we find that (with the exception
of Sparta) the primitive, hereditary, unresponsible monarch,
uniting in himself all the functions of government, has ceased
to reign."*
Let us now ask what will happen when a cluster of clans
of common descent, which have become independent and
hostile, are simultaneously endangered by enemies to whom
they are not at all akin, or but remotely akin ? Habitually
they will sink their differences and cooperate for defence. But
on what terms will they cooperate ? Even among friendly
groups, joint action would be hindered if some claimed supre
macy ; and among groups having out-standing feuds there
could be no joint action save on a footing of equality. The
common defence would, therefore, be directed by a body
* While I am writing, the just-issued third volume of Mr. Scene's Celtic
Scotland, supplies me with an illustration of the process above indicated. It
appears that the original Celtic tribes which formed the earldoms of Moray,
Buchan, Athol, Angus, Menteith, became broken up into clans ; and how
influential was the physical character of the country in producing this result,
we are shown by the fact that this change took place in the parts of them
which fell within the highland country. Describing the smaller groups
•which resulted, Mr. Skene says : — " While the clan, viewed as a single com
munity, thus consisted of the chief, with his kinsmen to a certain limited
degree of relationship ; the commonalty who were of the same blood, who all
bore the same name, and his dependents, consisting of subordinate septs of
native men, who did not claim to be of the blood of the chief, but were either
probably descended from the more ancient occupiers of the soil, or were
broken men from other clans, who had taken protection with him. . . .
Those kinsmen of the chief who acquired the property of their land founded
families. . . . The most influential of these was that of the oldest cadet in
the family which had been longest separated from the main stem, and usually-
presented the appearance of a rival bouse little less powerful than that of tho
chief."
COMPOUND POLITICAL HEADS. 375
formed of the heads of the cooperating small societies ; and
if the cooperation for defence was prolonged, or became
changed into cooperation for offence, this temporary control
ling body would naturally grow into a permanent one, holding
the small societies together. The special characters of
this compound head would, of course, vary with the circum
stances. Where the traditions of the united clans agreed in
identifying some one chief as the lineal representative of the
original patriarch or hero, from whom all descended, prece
dence and some extra authority would be permitted to him.
Where claims derived from descent were disputed, personal
superiority or election would determine which member of the
compound head should take the lead. If within each of the
component groups chiefly power was unqualified, there would
result from union of chiefs a close oligarchy ; while the close
ness of the oligarchy would become less in proportion as
recognition of the authority of each chief diminished. And
in cases where there came to be incorporated numerous
aliens, owing allegiance to the heads of none of the compo
nent groups, there would arise influences tending still more
to widen the oligarchy.
Such, we may conclude, were the origins of those com
pound headships of the Greek states which existed at the
beginning of the historic period. In Crete, where there sur
vived the tradition of primitive kingship, but where disper
sion and subdivision of clans had brought about a condition
in which " different towns carried on open feuds," there were
" patrician houses, deriving their rights from the early ages of
royal government," who continued " to retain possession of
the administration." In Corinth the line of Herakleid kinga
" subsides gradually, through a series of empty names, into
the oligarchy denominated Bacchiadoe. . . . The persons so
named were all accounted descendants of Herakles, and formed
the governing caste in the city." So was it with Megara,
According to tradition, this arose by combination of several
villages inhabited by kindred tribes, which, originally in
376 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
antagonism with Corinth, had, probably in the course of this
antagonism, become consolidated into an independent state.
At the opening of the historic period the like had happened
in Sikyon and other places. Sparta, too, " always maintained,
down to the times of the despot Nabis, its primitive aspect
of a group of adjacent hill- villages rather than a regular city."
Though in Sparta kingship had survived under an anomalous
form, yet the joint representatives of the primitive king, still
reverenced because the tradition of their divine descent was
preserved, had become little more than members of the
governing oligarchy, retaining certain prerogatives. And
though it is true that in its earliest historically-known stage,
the Spartan oligarchy did not present the form which would
spontaneously arise from the union of chiefs of clans for co
operation in war — though it had become elective within a
limited class of persons ; yet the fact that an age of not less
than sixty was a qualification, harmonizes with the belief that
it at first consisted of the heads of the respective groups, who
were always the eldest sons of the eldest ; and that these
groups with their heads, described as having been in pre-
Lykurgean times, "the most lawless of all the Greeks/'
became united by that continuous militant life which dis
tinguished them.*
* As bearing on historical interpretations at large, and especially on inter
pretations to be made in this work, let me point out further reasons than
those given by Grote and others for rejecting the tradition that the Spartan
constitution was the work of Lykurgus. The universal tendency to ascribe
an effect to the most conspicuous proximate cause, is especially strong where
the effect is one of which the causation is involved. Our own time has fur
nished an illustration in the ascription of Corn-law Repeal to Sir Kobert
Peel, and after him to Messrs. Cobden and Bright : leaving Colonel Thomp
son un-named. In the next generation the man who for a time carried en
the fight single-handed, and forged sundry of the weapons used by the vio-
tors, will be unheard of in connexion with it. It is not enough, however, to
suspect that Lykurgus was simply the finisher of other men's work. We
may reasonably suspect that the work was that of no man, but simply that
of the needs and the conditions. This may be seen in the institution of the
public mess. If we ask Avhat will happen with a small people who, for gene
rations spreading as conquerors, have a contempt for all industry, and who,
COMPOUND POLITICAL HEADS. 877
The Romans exemplify the rise of a compound headship
tinder conditions which, though partially different from those
the Greeks were subject to, were allied fundamentally. In
its earliest-known state, Latium was occupied by village-
communities, which were united into cantons ; while these
cantons formed a league headed by Alba — a canton regarded
as the oldest and most eminent. This combination was for
joint defence ; as is shown by the fact that each group of
clan- villages composing a canton, had an elevated stronghold
in common, and also by the fact that the league of cantons
had for its centre and place of refuge, Alba, the most strongly
placed as well as the oldest. The component cantons of the
league were so far independent that there were wars between
them ; whence we may infer that when they cooperated for
joint defence it was on substantially equal terms. Thus
before Eome existed, the people who formed it had been
habituated to a kind of life such that, with great subordina
tion in each family and clan, and partial subordination within
each canton (which was governed by a prince, council of elders,
and assembly of warriors), there went a union of heads of
cantons, who were in no degree subordinate one to another.
When the inhabitants of three of these cantons, the Eamnians,
Tides, and Luceres, began to occupy the tract on which Eome
stands, they brought with them their political organization.
when not at war, pass their time in exercises fitting them for war, it becomes
manifest that at first the daily assembling to carry on these exercises will entail
the daily bringing of provisions by each. As happens in those pic-nics in
•which all who join contribute to the common repast, a certain obligation
respecting quantities and qualities will naturally arise — an obligation which,
repeated daily, will pass from custom into law : ending in a specification of
the kinds and amounts of food. Further, it is to be expected that as the law
thus arises in an age when food is coarse and unvaried, the simplicity of the
diet, originally unavoidable, will eventually be considered as intended — as an
ascetic regimen deliberately devised. [When writing this I was not aware
that, as pointed out by Prof. Paley in Fraser's Magazine, for February,
1881, among the Greeks of later times, it was common to have dinners to
which each guest brought his share of provisions, and that those who con
tributed little and consumed much were objects of satire. This fact increases
the probability that the Spartan mess originated as suggested.]
378 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
The oldest Eoman patricians bore the names of rural clans
belonging to these cantons. Whether, when seating them
selves on the Palatine hills and on the Quirinal, they pre
served their cantonal divisions, is not clear ; though it seems
probable a priori. But, however this may be, there is proof
that they fortified themselves against one another, as well as
against outer enemies. The " mount-men " of the Palatine
and the " hill-men " of the Quirinal were habitually at feud ;
and even among the minor divisions of those who occupied
the Palatine, there were dissensions. As Monimsen says,
primitive Eome was " rather an aggregate of urban settle
ments than a single city," And that the clans who formed
these settlements brought with them their enmities, is to be
inferred from the fact that not only did they fortify the hills
on which they fixed themselves, but even " the houses of the
old and powerful families were constructed somewhat after
the manner of fortresses."
So that again, in the case of Eome, we see a cluster of
small independent communities, allied in blood but partially
antagonistic, which had to cooperate against enemies on such
terms as all would agree to. In early Greece the means of
defence were, as Grote remarks, greater than the means of
attack ; and it was the same in early Eome. Hence, while
coercive rule within the family and the group of related
families was easy, there was difficulty in extending coercion
over many such groups : fortified as they were against one
another. Moreover, the stringency of government within
each of the communities constituting the primitive city, was
diminished by facility of escape from one and admission into
another. As we have seen among simple tribes, desertions
take place when the rule is harsh ; and we may infer that, in
primitive Eome there was a check on exercise of force by the
more powerful families in each settlement over the less
powerful, caused by the fear that migration might weaken the
settlement and strengthen an adjacent one. Thus the cir
cumstances were such that when, for defence of the city, co-
COMPOUND POLITICAL HEADS. 379
operation became needful, the heads of the clans included in
its several divisions came to have substantially equal powers.
The original senate was the collective body of clan-elders;
and " this assembly of elders was the ultimate holder of the
ruling power :" it was " an assembly of kings." At
the same time, the heads of families in each clan, forming
the body of burgesses, stood, for like reasons, on equal
footing. Primarily for command in war, there was an elected
head, who was also chief magistrate. Though not having the
authority given by alleged divine descent, he had the autho
rity given by supposed divine approval ; and, himself bearing
the insignia of a god, he retained till death the absoluteness
appropriate to one. But besides the fact that the choice,
originally made by the senate, had to be again practically
made by it in case of sudden vacancy ; and besides the fact
that eash king, nominated by his predecessor, had to be ap
proved by the assembled burgesses ; there is the fact that the
king's power was executive only. The assembly of burgesses
" was in law superior to, rather than co-ordinate with, the
king." Further, in the last resort was exercised the supreme
power of the senate ; which was the guardian of the law
and could veto the joint decision of king and burgesses. Thus
the constitution was in essence an oligarchy of heads of clans,
included in an oligarchy of heads of houses — a compound
oligarchy which became unqualified when kingship was sup
pressed. And here should be emphasized the truth,
sufficiently obvious and yet continually ignored, that the
Roman Republic which remained when the regal power ended,
differed utterly in nature from those popular governments
with which it has been commonly classed. The heads of
clans, of whom the narrower governing body was formed, as
well as the heads of families who formed the wider governing
body, were, indeed, jealous of one another's powers ; and in
80 far simulated the citizens of a free state who individually
maintain their equal rights. But these heads severally
exercised unlimited powers over the members of their house-
380 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
holds and over their clusters of dependents. A community
of which the component groups severally retained their in
ternal autonomies, with the result that the rule within each
remained absolute, was nothing but an aggregate of small
despotisms. Institutions under which the head of each
group, besides owning slaves, had such supremacy that his
wife and children, including even married sons, had no more
legal rights than cattle, and were at his mercy in life and
limb, or could be sold into slavery, can be called free institu
tions only by those who confound similarity of external out
line with similarity of internal structure.*
§ 48G. The formation of compound political heads in later
times, repeats this process in essentials if not in details. In
one way or other, the result arises when a common need for
defence compels cooperation, while there exists no means
of securing cooperation save voluntary agreement.
Beginning with the example of Venice, we notice first that
the region occupied by the ancient Yeneti, included the exten
sive marshy tract formed of the deposits brought down by
several rivers to the Adriatic — a tract which, in Strabo's day,
was "intersected in every quarter by rivers, streams, and
morasses ;" so that " Aquileia and Eavenna were then cities
in the marshes." Having for their stronghold this region full
of spots accessible only to inhabitants who knew the intri
cate ways to them, the Veneti maintained their independence,
spite of the efforts of the Eomans to subdue them, until the
time of Caesar. In later days, kindred results were
more markedly displayed in that part of this region specially
characterized by inaccessibility. From early ages the islets,
or rather mud-banks, on which Venice stands, were inhabited
* I should have thought it needless to insist on so obvious a truth had it
not heen that even still there continues this identification of things so utterly
different. Within these few years has been published a magazine-article by
a distinguished historian, describing the corruptions of the Roman Republic
during its latter days, with the appended moral that such ^ere, and are,
likely to be the results of democratic government !
COMPOUND POLITICAL HEADS. 381
by a maritime people. Each islet, secure in the midst of its
tortuous lagunes, had a popular government of annually-
elected tribunes. And these original governments, existing
at the time when there came several thousands of fugitives,
driven from the mainland by the invading Huns, survived
under the form of a rude confederation. As we have
seen happens generally, the union into which these inde
pendent little communities were forced for purposes of de
fence, was disturbed by feuds ; and it was only under the
stress of opposition to aggressing Lombards on the one side
and Sclavonic pirates on the other, that a general assembly of
nobles, clergy, and citizens, appointed a duke or doge to direct
the combined forces and to restrain internal factions : being
superior to the tribunes of the united islets and subject only
to this body which appointed him. What changes
subsequently took place — how, beyond the restraints imposed
by the general assembly, the doge was presently put under
the check of two elected councillors, and on important occa
sions had to summon the principal citizens — how there came
afterwards a representative council, which underwent from
time to time modifications — does not now concern us. Here
we have simply to note that, as in preceding cases, the com
ponent groups being favourably circumstanced for severally
maintaining their independence of one another, the impera
tive need for union against enemies initiated a rude compound
headship, which, notwithstanding the centralizing effects of
war, long maintained itself in one or other form.
On finding allied results among men of a different race but
occupying a similar region, doubts respecting the process of
causation must be dissipated. Over the area, half land, half
water, formed of the sediment brought down by the Ehine and
adjacent rivers, there early existed scattered families. Living
on isolated sand-hills, or in huts raised on piles, they were so
secure amid their creeks and mud-banks and marshes, that
they remained unsubdued by the Romans. Subsisting at first
by fishing, with here and there such small agriculture as was
382 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
possible, and eventually becoming maritime and commercial,
these people, in course of time, rendered their land more
habitable by damming out the sea ; and they long enjoyed a
partial if not complete independence. In the third century,
"the low countries contained the only free people of the
German race." Especially the Frisians, more remote than
the rest from invaders, " associated themselves with the tribes
settled on the limits of the German Ocean, and formed with
them a connexion celebrated under the title of the ' Saxon
League.' " Though at a later time, the inhabitants of the low
countries fell under Frankish invaders ; yet the nature of
their habitat continued to give them such advantages in
resisting foreign control, that they organized themselves after
their own fashion notwithstanding interdicts. " From the
time of Charlemagne, the people of the ancient Menapia, now
become a prosperous commonwealth, formed political associa
tions to raise a barrier against the despotic violence of the
Franks/' Meanwhile the Frisians, who, after centuries of
resistance to the Franks, were obliged to yield and render
small tributary services, retained their internal autonomy.
They formed "a confederation of rude but self-governed
maritime provinces : " each of these seven provinces being
divided into districts severally governed by elective heads
with their councils, and the whole being under a general
elective head and a general council.
Of illustrations which modern times have furnished, must
be named those which again show us the effects of a moun
tainous region. The most notable is, of course, that of
Switzerland. Surrounded by forests, "among marshes, and
rocks, and glaciers, tribes of scattered shepherds had, from the
early times of the Roman conquest, found a land of refuge
from the successive invaders of the rest of Helvetia." In the
labyrinths of the Alps, accessible to those only who knew the
ways to them, their cattle fed unseen ; and against straggling
bands of marauders who might discover their retreats, they
had great facilities for defence. These districts— which
COMPOUND POLITICAL HEADS. 383
eventually became the cantons of Schweitz, Uri, and Unter-
walden, originally having but one centre of meeting, but
eventually, as population increased, getting three, and forming
separate political organizations — long preserved complete in
dependence. With the spread of feudal subordination
throughout Europe, they became nominally subject to the
Emperor; but, refusing obedience to the superiors set over
them, they entered into a solemn alliance, renewed from time
to time, to resist outer enemies. Details of their history need
not detain us. The fact of moment is that in these three
cantons, which physically favoured in so great a degree the
maintenance of independence by individuals and by groups,
the people, while framing for themselves free governments,
united on equal terms for joint defence. And it was these
typical " Swiss," as they were the first to be called, whose
union formed the nucleus of the larger unions which, through
varied fortunes, eventually grew up. Severally independent
as were the cantons composing these larger unions, there at
first existed feuds among them, which were suspended during
times of joint defence. Only gradually did the league pass
from temporary and unsettled forms to a permanent and
settled form. Two facts of significance should be
added. One is that, at a later date, a like process of resist
ance, federation, and emancipation from feudal tyranny,
among separate communities occupying small mountain
valleys, took place in the Grisons and in the Valaia : regions
which, though mountainous, were more accessible than those
of the Oberland and its vicinity. The other is that the more
level cantons neither so early nor so completely gained their
independence; and, further, that their internal constitutions
were less free in form. A marked contrast existed between
the aristocratic republics of Berne, Lucerne, Pribourg, and
Soleure, and the pure democracies of the forest cantons and
the Grisons: in the last of which "every little hamlet
resting in an Alpine valley, or perched on mountain era"*,
was an independent community, of which all the members
83
384 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
were absolutely equal — entitled to vote in every assembly,
and qualified for every public function." " Each hamlet had
its own laws, jurisdiction, and privileges ; " while the hamlets
were federated into communes, the communes into districts,
and the districts into a league.
Lastly, with the case of Switzerland may be associated that
of San Marino — a little republic which, seated in the Apen
nines, and having its centre on a cliff a thousand feet high,
has retained its independence for fifteen centuries. Here
8,000 people are governed by a senate of 60 and by captains
elected every half-year : assemblies of the whole people being
called on important occasions. There is a standing army of
18;" taxation is reduced to a mere nothing ; " and officials are
paid by the honour of serving.
One noteworthy difference between the compound heads
arising under physical conditions of the kinds exemplified,
must not be overlooked — the difference between the oligarchic
form and the popular form. As shown at the outset of this
section, if each of the groups united by militant cooperation
is despotically ruled — if the groups are severally framed on
the patriarchal type, or are severally governed by men of
supposed divine descent ; then the compound head becomes
one in which the people at large have no share. But if, as in
these modern cases, patriarchal authority has decayed ; or if
belief in divine descent of rulers has been undermined by a
creed at variance with it ; or if peaceful habits have weakened
that coercive authority which war ever strengthens ; then the
compound head is no longer an assembly of petty despots.
With the progress of these changes it becomes more and more
a head formed of those who exercise power not by right of
position but by right of appointment.
§ 487. There are other conditions which favour the rise of
compound heads, temporary if not permanent — those, namely,
which occur at the dissolutions of preceding organizations.
Among peoples habituated for ages to personal rule, having
COMPOUND POLITICAL HEADS. 385
sentiments appropriate to it, and no conception of anything
else, the fall of one despot is at once followed by the rise of
another ; or, if a large personally-governed empire collapses,
its parts severally generate governments for themselves of
like kind. But among less servile peoples, the breaking up
of political systems having single heads, is apt to be followed
by the establishment of others having compound heads;
especially where there is a simultaneous separation into parts
which have not local governments of stable kinds. Under
such circumstances there is a return to the primitive state.
The pre-existing regulative system having fallen, the members
of the community are left without any controlling power save
the aggregate will ; and political organization having to com
mence afresh, the form first assumed is akin to that which we
see in the assembly of the savage horde, or in the modern
public meeting. Whence there presently results the rule of
a select few subject to the approval of the many.
In illustration may first be taken the rise of the Italian
republics. When, during the ninth and tenth centuries, the
German Emperors, who had long been losing their power to
restrain local antagonisms in Italy and the outrages of
wandering robber bands, failed more than ever to protect
their subject communities, and, as a simultaneous result,
exercised diminished control over them ; it became at once
necessary and practicable for the Italian towns to develop
political organizations of their own. Though in these towns
there were remnants of the old Roman organization, this had
obviously become effete ; for, in time of danger, there was an
assembling of " citizens at the sound of a great bell, to
concert together the means for their common defence."
J)oubtless on such occasions were marked out the rudiments
of those republican constitutions which afterwards arose.
Though it is alleged that the German Emperors allowed the
towns to form these constitutions, yet we may reasonably
conclude, rather, that having no care further than to get their
tribute, they made no efforts to prevent the towns from
386 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
forming them. And though Sismondi says of the towns
people — " ils chercherent & se constituer sur le modele de la
republique romaine ;" yet we may question whether, in those
dark days, the people knew enough of Roman institutions to
be influenced by their knowledge. With more probability
may we infer that "this meeting of all the men of tho
state capable of bearing arms ... in the great square,"
originally called to take measures for repelling aggressors — a
meeting which must, at the very outset, have been swayed
by a group of dominant citizens and must have chosen
leaders, was itself the republican government in its incipient
state. Meetings of this kind, first held on occasions of
emergency, would gradually come into use for deciding all
important public questions. Repetition would bring greater
regularity in the modes of procedure, and greater definiteness
in the divisions formed ; ending in compound political heads,
presided over by elected chiefs. And that this was the case
in those early stages of which there remain but vague
accounts, is shown by the fact that a similar, though some
what more definite, process afterwards occurred at Florence,
when the usurping nobles were overthrown. Records tell us
that in 1250 " the citizens assembled at the same moment in
the square of Santa Croce ; they divided themselves into fifty
groups, of which each group chose a captain, and thus
formed companies of militia : a council of these officers was
the first-born authority of this newly revived republic."
Clearly, that sovereignty of the people which, for a time,
characterized these small governments, would inevitably arise
if the political form grew out of the original public meeting ;
while it would be unlikely to have arisen had the political
form been artificially devised by a limited class.
That this interpretation harmonizes with the facts which
modern times have furnished, scarcely needs pointing out.
On an immensely larger scale and in ways variously modified,
here by the slow collapse of an old rdgimc and there by com
bination for war, the rise of the first French Republic and of
COMPOUND POLITICAL HEADS. 387
the American Republic have similarly shown us this tendency
towards resumption of the primitive form of political organi
zation, when a decayed or otherwise incapable government
collapses. Obscured by complicating circumstances and
special incidents as these transformations were, we may
recognize in them the play of the same general causes.
§ 488. In the last chapter we saw that, as conditions deter
mine, the first element of the tri-une political structure may
be differentiated from the second in various degrees : begin
ning with the warrior-chief, slightly predominant over other
warriors, and ending with the divine and absolute king
widely distinguished from the select few next to him. By
the foregoing examples we are shown that the second element
is, as conditions determine, variously differentiated from the
third: being at the one extreme qualitatively distinguished
in a high degree and divided from it by an impassable barrier,
and at the other extreme almost merged into it.
Here we are introduced to the truth next to be dealt with ;
that rrot only do conditions determine the various forms which
compound heads assume, but that conditions determine the
various changes they undergo. There are two leading kinds
of such changes — those through which the compound head
passes towards a less popular form, and those through which
it passes towards a more popular form. We will glance at
them in this order.
Progressive narrowing of the compound head is one of tho
concomitants of continued military activity. Setting out
with the case of Sparta, the constitution of which in its early
form differed but little from that which the Iliad shows
us existed among the Homeric Greeks, we first see the
tendency towards concentration of power, in the regula
tion, made a century after Lykurgus, that "in case the people
decided crookedly, the senate with the kings should reverse
their decisions ;" and then we see that later, in consequence
of the gravitation of property into fewer hands, " the number
388 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
of qualified citizens went on continually diminishing : " the
implication being not only a relatively-increased power of the
oligarchy, but, probably, a growing supremacy of the wealthier
members within the oligarchy itself. Turning to the case of
Home, ever militant, we find that in course of time inequali
ties increased to the extent that the senate became "an
order of lords, filling up its ranks by hereditary succession,
and exercising collegiate misrule." Moreover, " out of the evil
of oligarchy there emerged the still worse evil of usurpation
of power by particular families." In the Italian Eepublics,
again, perpetually at war one with another, there resulted a
kindred narrowing of the governing body. The nobility,
deserting their castles, began to direct " the municipal govern
ment of the cities, which consequently, during this period of
the Eepublics, fell chiefly into the hands of the superior fami
lies." Then at a later stage, when industrial progress had
generated wealthy commercial classes, these, competing with
the nobles for power, and finally displacing them, repeated
within their respective bodies this same process. The richer
gilds deprived the poorer of their shares in the choice of the
ruling agencies ; the privileged class was continually dimi
nished by "disqualifying regulations; and newly risen families
were excluded by those of long standing. So that, as Sis-
mondi points out, those of the numerous Italian Eepublics
which remained nominally such at the close of the fifteenth
century, were, like "Sienna and Lucca, each governed 'by a
single caste of citizens : . . . had no longer popular govern
ments/' A kindred result occurred among the Dutch.
DuriiK' the wars of the Flemish cities with the nobles and
O
with one another, the relatively popular governments of the
towns were narrowed. The greater gilds excluded the lesser
from the ruling body ; and their members, " clothed in the
municipal purple . . . ruled with the power of an aristo
cracy . . . the local government was often an oligarchy,
while the spirit of the burghers was peculiarly democratic."
And with these illustrations may be joined that furnished by
COMPOUND POLITICAL HEADS. 380
those Swiss cantons which, physically characterized in ways
less favourable than the others to personal independence,
were at the same time given to wars, offensive as well as
defensive. Berne, Lucerne, Fribourg, Soleure, acquired politi
cal constitutions in large measure oligarchic ; and in " Berne,
where the nobles had always been in the ascendant, the entire
administration had fallen into the hands of a few families,
with whom it had become hereditary."
We have next to note as a cause of progressive modification
in compound heads, that, like simple heads, they are apt to
be subordinated by their administrative agents. The earliest
case to be named is one in which this effect is exemplified
along with the last — the case of Sparta. Originally appointed
by the kings to perform prescribed duties, the ephors first
made the kings subordinate, and eventually subordinated the
senate ; so that they became substantially the rulers. From
this we may pass to the instance supplied by Venice, where
power, once exercised by the people, gradually lapsed into
the hands of an executive body, the members of which,
habitually re-elected, and at death replaced by their children,
became an aristocracy, whence there eventually grew the
council of ten, who were, like the Spartan ephors, " charged
to guard the security of the state with a power higher than
the law;" and who thus, "restrained by no rule," constituted
the actual government. Through its many revolutions and
changes of constitution, Florence exhibited like tendencies.
The appoint 3d administrators, now signoria, now priors,
became able, during their terms of office, to effect their
private ends even to the extent of suspending the constitu
tion : getting the forced assent of the assembled people, who
were surrounded by armed men. And then, eventually, the
head executive agent, nominally re-elected from time to time
but practically permanent, became, in the person of Cosmo de'
Medici, the founder of an inherited headship.
But the liability of the compound political head to become
•ubject to its civil agents, is far less than its liability to
390 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
become subject to its military agents. From the earliest
times this liability has been exemplified and commented
upon ; and, familiar though it is, I must here illustrate and
emphasize it, because it directly bears on one of the cardinal
truths of political theory. Setting out with the Greeks, we
observe that the tyrants, by whom oligarchies were so
often overthrown, had armed forces at their disposal. Either
the tyrant was " the executive magistrate, upon whom the
oligarchy themselves had devolved important administrative
powers ;" or he was a demagogue, who pleaded the alleged
interests of the community, " in order to surround" himself
" with armed defenders : " soldiers being in either case the
agents of his usurpation. And then, in Eome, we see the like
done by the successful general. As MacchiavelK remarks —
" For the further abroad they [the generals] carried their arms, the
more necessary such prolongations [of their commissions] appeared, and
the more common they became ; hence it arose, in the first place, that
but a few of their Citizens could be employed in the command of armies,
and consequently few were capable of acquiring any considerable degree
of experience or reputation ; and in the next, that when a Commander
in chief was continued for a long time in that post, he had an oppor
tunity of corrupting his army to such a degree that the Soldiers entirely
threw off their obedience to the Senate, and acknowledged no authority
but his. To this it was owing that Sylla and Marius found means
to debauch their armies and make them fight against their country;
and that Julius Cassar was enabled to make himself absolute in Eome/3
The Italian Eepublics, again, furnish many illustrations. By
the beginning of the fourteenth century, those of Lombardy
" all submitted themselves to the military power of some
nobles to whom they had entrusted the command of their
militias, and thus all lost their liberty." Later times and
nearer regions yield instances. At home, Cromwell showed
how the successful general tends to become autocrat. In the
Netherlands tho same thing was exemplified by the Van
Arteveldes, father and son, and again by Maurice of Nassau ;
and, but for form's sake, it would be needless to name the case
of Napoleon. It should be added that not only by command
of armod forces is the military chief enabled to seize on
COMPOUND POLITICAL HEADS. 391
supreme power; but acquired popularity, especially in a
militant nation, places him in a position which makes it
relatively easy to do this. Neither their own experience nor
the experiences of other nations throughout the past, pre
vented the French from lately making Marshal Macmahon
executive head ; and even the Americans, in more than once
choosing General Grant for President, proved that, predomi
nantly industrial though their society is, militant activity
promptly caused an incipient change towards the militant
type, of which an essential trait is the union of civil headship
with military headship.
From the influences which narrow compound political
headships, or change them into single ones, let us pass to the
influences which widen them. The case of Athens is, of
course, the first to be considered. To understand this we
must remember that up to the time of Solon, democratic
government did not exist in Greece. The only actual forms
were the oligarchic and the despotic ; and in those early days,
before political speculation began, it is unlikely that there
was recognized in theory, a social form entirely unknown in
practice. We have, therefore, to exclude the notion that
popular government arose in Athens under the guidance of
any preconceived idea. As having the same implication
should be added the fact that (Athens being governed by an
oligarchy at the time) the Solonian legislation served but to
qualify and broaden the oligarchy and remove crying in
justices. In seeking the causes of change which
worked through Solon, and also made practicable the re-orga
nization he initiated, we shall find them to lie in the direct and
indirect influences of trade. Grote comments on " the anxiety,
Loth of Solon and of Drako, to enforce among their fellow-
citizens industrious and self-maintaining habits : " a proof
that, even before Solon's time, there was in Attica little or no
reprobation of " sedentary industry, which in most other parts
of Greece was regarded as comparatively dishonourable."
Moreover, Soldi was himself in early life a trader; and his
392 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
legislation " provided for traders and artizans a new home at
Athens, giving the first encouragement to that numerous
town-population, both in the city and in the Peiraeus, which
we find actually residing there in the succeeding century."
The immigrants who flocked into Attica because of its greater
security, Solon was anxious to turn rather to manufacturing
industry than to cultivation of a soil naturally poor ; and one
result was " a departure from the primitive temper of Atti
cism, which tended both to cantonal residence and rural occu
pation ; " while another result was to increase the number of
people who stood outside those gentile and phratric divisions,
which were concomitants of the patriarchal type and of per
sonal rule. And then the constitutional changes made by
Solon were in leading respects towards industrial organiza
tion. The introduction of a property-qualification for classes,
instead of a birth-qualification, diminished the rigidity of the
political form ; since aquirement of wealth by industry, or
otherwise, made possible an admission into the oligarchy, or
among others of the privileged. By forbidding self-enslave-
ment of the debtor, and by emancipating those who had been
self-enslaved, his laws added largely to the enfranchised class
as distinguished from the slave-class. Otherwise regarded,
this change, leaving equitable contracts untouched, prevented
those inequitable contracts under which, by a lien on himself,
a man gave more than an equivalent for the sum he borrowed.
And with a decreasing number of cases in which there existed
the relation of master and slave, went an increasing number
of cases in which benefits were exchanged under agreement.
The odium attaching to that lending at interest which ended
in slavery of the debtor, having disappeared, legitimate, lending
became general and unopposed ; the rate of interest was free ;
and accumulated capital was made available. Then, as co
operating cause, and as ever-increasing consequence, came the
growth of a population favourably circumstanced for acting
in concert Urban people who, daily in contact, gather one
another's ideas and feelings, and who, by quickly-diffused
COMPOUND POLITICAL HEADS. 393
intelligence are rapidly assembled, can cooperate far more
readily than people scattered through rural districts. With
all which direct and indirect results of industrial develop
ment, must be joined the ultimate result on character, pro
duced by daily fulfilling and enforcing contracts — a discipline)
which, while requiring each man to recognize the claims of
others, also requires him to maintain his own. In Solon
himself this attitude which joins assertion of personal rights
with respect for the rights of others, was well exemplified ;
since, when his influence was great he refused to become a
despot, though pressed to do so, and in his latter days he
resisted at the risk of death the establishment of a despo
tism. In various ways, then, increasing industrial
activity tended to widen the original oligarchic structure.
And though these effects of industrialism, joined with subse
quently-accumulated effects, .were for a long time held in
check by the usurping Peisistratidse, yet, being ready to show
themselves when, some time after the expulsion of these
tyrants, there came the Kleisthenian revolution, they were
doubtless instrumental in then initiating the popular form of
government.
Though not in so great a degree, yet in some degree, the
same causes operated in liberalizing the Eoman oligarchy.
Eome " was indebted for the commencement of its import
ance to international commerce ;" and, as Mommsen points
out, " the distinction between Eome and the mass of the
other Latin towns, must certainly be traced back to its com
mercial position, and to the type of character produced by
that position . . . Eome was the emporium of the Latin
districts." Moreover, as in Athens, though doubtless to a
smaller extent, trade brought an increasing settlement of
strangers, to whom rights were given, and who, joined with
emancipated slaves and with clients, formed an industrial
population, the eventual inclusion of which in the burgess-
body caused that widening of the constitution effected by
Servius Tullius.
391 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
The Italian Eepublics of later days again show us, in nume
rous cases, this connexion between trading activities and o
freer form 'of rule. The towns were industrial centres.
"The merchants of Genoa, Pisa, Florence, and Venice supplied
Europs with the products of the Mediterranean and of the East: the
hunkers of Lombardy instructed the world in the mysteries of finance,
and foreign exchanges: Italian artificers taught the workmen of other
countries the highest skill in the manufactures of steel, iron, bronze,
silk, glass, porcelain, and jewelry. Italian shops, with their dazzling
array of luxuries, excited the admiration and envy of foreigners from
less favoured lands."
Then, on looking into their histories, we find that industrial
gilds were the bases of their political organizations ; that the
upper mercantile classes became the rulers, in some cases
excluding the nobles ; and that while external wars and in
ternal feuds tended continually to revive narrower, or more
personal, forms of rule, rebellions of the industrial citizens
occasionally happening, tended to re-establish popular rule.
When we join with these the like general connexions that
arose in the Netherlands and in the Hanse towns — when we
remember the liberalization of our own political institutions
which has gone along with growing industrialism — when we
observe that the towns more than the country, and the great
industrial centres more than the small ones, have given the
impulses to these changes ; it becomes unquestionable that
while by increase of militant activities compound headships
are narrowed, they are widened in proportion as industrial
activities become predominant.
§ 489. In common with the results reached in preceding
chapters, the results above reached show that types of poli
tical organization are not matters of deliberate choice. It is
common to speak of a society as though it had, once upon a
time, decided on the form of government which thereafter
existed in it. Even Mr, Grote, in his comparison between the
institutions of ancient Greece and those of mediaeval Europe
(vol. iii. pp. 10 — 12), tacitly implies that conceptions of the
COMPOUND POLITICAL HEADS. 295
advantages or disadvantages of tins or that arrangement, fur
nished motives for establishing or maintaining it. But, as
gathered together in the foregoing sections, the facts show
that as with the genesis of simple political heads, so with
the genesis of compound political heads, conditions and not
intentions determine.
Recognizing the truth that independence of character is a
fa3tor, but ascribing this independence of character to the
continued existence of a race in a habitat which facilitates
evasion of control, we saw that with such a nature so con
ditioned, cooperation in war causes the union on equal terms
of groups whose heads are joined to form a directive council.
And according as the component groups are governed more
or less autocratically, the directive council is more or less
oligarchic. We have seen that in localities differing so
widely as do mountain regions, marshes or mud islands, and
jungles, men of different races have developed political heads
of this compound kind. And on observing that the localities,
otherwise so unlike, are alike in being severally made up of
parts difficult of access, we cannot question that to this is
mainly due the governmental form under which their in
habitants unite.
Besides the compound heads which are thus indigenous in
places favouring them, there are other compound heads which
arise after the break-up of preceding political organizations.
Especially apt are they so to arise where the people, not
scattered through a wide district but concentrated in a town,
can easily assemble bodily. Control of every kind having
disappeared, it happens in such cases that the aggregate will
lias free play, and there establishes itself for a time that
relatively-popular form with which all government begins ;
but, regularly or irregularly, a superior few become differen
tiated from the many ; and of predominant men some one is
made, directly or indirectly, most predominant.
Compound heads habitually become, in course of time,
either narrower or wider. They are narrowed by militancy,
396 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
which tends ever to concentrate directive power in fewer
hands, and, if continued, almost certainly changes them into
simple heads. Conversely, they are widened by industrialism.
This, by gathering together aliens detached from the restraints
imposed by patriarchal, feudal, or other such organizations;
by increasing the number of those to be coerced in compa
rison with the number of those who have to coerce them ; by
placing this larger number in conditions favouring concerted
action ; by substituting for daily-enforced obedience, the daily
fulfilment of voluntary obligations and daily maintenance of
claims ; tends ever towards equalization of citizenship.
CHAPTER VIII.
CONSULTATIVE BODIES.
§ 490. Two parts of the primitive tri-nne political struo-
ture have, in the last two chapters, been dealt with sepa
rately ; or, to speak strictly, the first has been considered as
independent of the second, and again, the second as inde
pendent of the first : incidentally noting its relations to the
third. Here we have to treat of the two in combination.
Instead of observing how from the chief, little above the rest,
there is, under certain conditions, evolved the absolute ruler,
entirely subordinating the select few and the many ; and
instead of observing how, under other conditions, the select
few become an oligarchy tolerating no supreme man, and
keeping the multitude in subjection ; we have now to observe
the cases in which there is established a cooperation between
the first and the second.
After chieftainship has become settled, the chief continues
to have sundry reasons for acting in concert with his head
men. It is needful to conciliate them ; it is needful to get
their advice and willing assistance ; and, in serious matters,
it is desirable to divide responsibility with them. Hence the
prevalence of consultative assemblies. In Samoa, " the chief
of the village and the heads of families formed, and still form,
the legislative body of the place." Among the Fulahs,
* before undertaking anything important or declaring war,
the king [of Kabbah] is obliged to summon a council of
398 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
Mallams and the principal people." Of the Mandingo states
we read that " in all affairs of importance, the king calls an
assembly of the principal men, or elders, by whose counsels
lie is directed." And such cases might be multiplied inde
finitely.
That we may understand the essential nature of this in
stitution, and that we may see why, as it evolves, it assumes
the characters it does, we must once more go back to the
beginning.
§ 491. Evidence coming from many peoples in all times,
shows that the consultative body is, at the outset, nothing
more than a council of war. It is in the open-air meeting of
armed men, that the cluster of leaders is first seen performing
that deliberative function in respect of military measures,
which is subsequently extended toother measures Long after
its deliberations have become more general in their scope,
there survive traces of this origin.
In Koine, where the king was above all things the general,
and where the senators, as the heads of clans, were, at the
outset, war-chiefs, the burgesses were habitually, when called
together, addressed as "spear-men:" there survived the title
which was naturally given to them when they were present
as listeners at war-councils. So during later days in Italy,
when the small republics grew up. Describing the assem-
blino- of " citizens at the sound of a OTeat bell, to concert
O O '
together the means of their common defence," Sismondi says
— " this meeting of all the men of the State capable of bearing
arms, was called a Parliament.'1 Concerning the gatherings
of- the Poles in early times we read : — " Such assemblies,
before the establishment of a senate, and while the kings were
limited in power, were of frequent occurrence, and . . . were
attended by all who bore arms;" and at a later stage "the
comitia paludata, which assembled during an interregnum,
consisted of the whole body of nobles, who attended in the
open plain, armed and equipped as if for battle." In Hungary,
CONSULTATIVE BODIES. 399
too, up to the beginning of the sixteenth century, " les
eisgneurs, a cheval et armes de pied en cap comme pour aller
en guerre, se reunissaient dans le champ de courses de Eakos,
pres de Pesth, et la discutaient en plain air les affaires pub-
liques." Again, " the supreme political council is the nation
in arms," says Stubbs of the primitive Germans ; and though,
during the Merovingian period, the popular power declined,
yet " under Chlodovech and his immediate successors, the
People assembled in arms had a real participation in the
resolutions of the king." Even now the custom of going
weapon in hand, is maintained where the primitive political
form remains. " To the present day," writes M. de Laveleye,
" the inhabitants of the outer Ehodes of Appenzell come to
the general assembly, one year at Hundwyl and the other at
Trogen, each carrying in his hand an old sword or ancient
rapier of the middle ages." Mr. Freeman, too, was witness
to a like annual gathering in Uri, where those who joined to
elect their chief magistrate, and to deliberate, came armed.
It may, indeed, be alleged that in early unsettled times,
the carrying of weapons by each freeman was needful for
personal safety ; especially when a place of meeting far from
his home had to be reached. But there is evidence that
though this continued to be a cause for going prepared for
fight, it was not by itself a sufficient cause. While we read
of the ancient Scandinavians that " all freemen capable of
bearing arms were admitted" to the national assembly, and
that after his election from " among the descendants of the
sacred stock," " the new sovereign was elevated amidst the
clash of arms and the shouts of the multitude ;" we also read
that "nobody, not even the king or his champions, were
allowed to come armed to the assizes."
Even apart from such evidence, there is ample reason to
infer that the council of war originated the consultative body,
and gave outlines to its structure. Defence against enemies
was everywhere the need which first prompted joint deli
beration. For other purposes individual action, or action in
84
400 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
small parties, might suffice; but for insuring the general
safety, combined action of the whole horde or tribe was ne
cessary ; and to secure this combined action must have been
the primary motive for a political gathering. Moreover,
certain constitutional traits of early assemblies among the
civilized, point to councils of war as having initiated them.
If we ask what must happen when the predominant men of
a tribe debate military measures in presence of the rest, the
reply is that in the absence of a developed political organiza
tion, the assent of the rest to any decision must be obtained
before it can be acted upon ; and the like must at first happen
when many tribes are united. As Gibbon says of the diet of
the Tartars, formed of chiefs of tribes and their martial
trains, " the monarch who reviews the strength, must consult
the inclination, of an armed people." Even if, under such
conditions, the ruling few could impose their will on the
many, armed like themselves, it would be impolitic to do so ;
since success in war would be endangered by dissension.
Hence would arise the usage of putting to the surrounding
warriors, the question whether they agreed to the course
which the council of chiefs had decided upon. There would
grow up a form such as that which had become established
for governmental purposes at large among the early Eomans,
whose king or general, asked the assembled burgesses or
" spear-men," whether they approved of the proposal made ;
or like that ascribed by Tacitus to the primitive Germans,
who, now with murmurs and now with brandishing of spears,
rejected or accepted the suggestions of their leaders. More
over, there would naturally come just that restricted expres
sion of popular opinion which we are told of. The Eoman
burgesses were allowed to answer only "yes" or "no" to any
question put to them; and this is exactly the simple answer
which the chief and head warriors would require from the
rest of the warriors when war or peace were the alternatives.
A kindred restriction existed among the Spartans. In addi
tion to the senate and co-ordinate kings, there was "an
CONSULTATIVE BODIES. 401
Ekklesia or public assembly of citizens, convened for the
purpose of approving or rejecting propositions submitted to
them, with little or no liberty of discussion"^ — a usage quite
explicable if we assume that in the Homeric agora, from
which the Spartan constitution descended, the assembled
chiefs had to gain the assent of their followers before im
portant actions could be undertaken.
Concluding, then, that war originates political deliberation,
and that the select body which especially carries on this deli
beration first takes shape on occasions when the public safety
has to be provided for, wye shall be prepared the better to
understand the traits which characterize the consultative
body in later stages of its development.
§ 492. Already we have seen that at the outset the militant
class was of necessity the land-owning class. In the savage
tribe there are no owners of the tract occupied, save the warriors
who use it in common for hunting. During pastoral life
good regions for cattle-feeding are jointly held against intru
ders by force of arms. And where the agricultural stage has
been reached, communal possession, family possession, and
individual possession, have from time to time to be defended
by the sword. Hence, as was shown, the fact that in early
stages the bearing of arms and the holding of land habitually
go together.
While, as among hunting peoples, land continues to be held
in common, the contrasts which arise between the few and
the many, are such only as result from actual or supposed
personal superiority of one kind or other. It is true that, as
pointed out, differences of wealth, in the shape of chattels,
boats, slaves, &c., cause some class-differentiations ; and that
thus, even before private land-owning begins, quantity of
possessions aids in distinguishing the governing from the
governed. When the pastoral state is arrived at and the
patriarchal type established, such ownership as there is vests
in the eldest son of the eldest ; or if, as Sir Henry Maine
402 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
says, he is to be considered as trustee for the group, still his
trusteeship joins with his military headship in giving him
supremacy. At a later stage, when lands come to be occupied
by settled families and communities, and land-ownership
gains defmiteness, this union of traits in each head of a group
becomes more marked ; and, as was shown when treating of
the differentiation of nobles from freemen, several influences
conspire to give the eldest son of the eldest, superiority in
extent of landed possessions, as well as in degree of power.
Nor is this fundamental relation changed when a nobility of
service replaces a nobility of birth, and when, as presently
happens, the adherents of a conquering invader are rewarded
by portions of the subjugated territory. Throughout, the
tendency continues to be for the class of military superiors
to be identical with the class of large landowners.
It follows, then, that beginning with the assemblage of
armed freemen, all of them holding land individually or in
groups, whose council of leaders, deliberating in presence of
the rest, are distinguished only as being the most capable
warriors, there will, through frequent wars and progressing
consolidations, be produced a state in which this council of
leaders becomes further distinguished by the greater estates,
and consequent greater powers, of its members. Becom
ing more and more contrasted with the armed freemen at
large, the consultative body will tend gradually to subor
dinate it, and, eventually separating itself, will acquire inde
pendence.
The growth of this temporary council of war in which the
king, acting as general, summons to give their advice the
leaders of his forces, into the permanent consultative body in
which the king, in his capacity of ruler, presides over the
deliberations of the same men on public affairs at large, is
exemplified in various parts of the world. The consultative
body is everywhere composed of minor chiefs, or heads of
clans, or feudal lords, in whom the military and civil rule of
local groups is habitually joined with wide possessions; and
CONSULTATIVE BODIES. 403
the examples frequently exhibit this composition on "both a
small and a large scale — both locally and generally. A
rude and early form of the arrangement is shown in Africa.
We read of the Kaffirs that " every chief chooses from among
his most wealthy subjects five or six, who act as counsellors
to him. . . the great council of the king is composed of
the chiefs of particular kraals." A Bechuana tribe <( gene
rally includes a number of towns or villages, each having its
distinct head, under whom there are a number of subordinate
chiefs," who " all acknowledge the supremacy of the principal
one. His power, though very great and in some instances
despotic, is nevertheless controlled by the minor chiefs, who
in their pichos or pitshos, their parliament, or public meetings,
use the greatest plainness of speech in exposing what they
consider culpable or lax in his government." Of the Wan-
yarn wezi, Burton says that the Sultan is " surrounded by a
council varying from two to a score of chiefs and elders. . .
His authority is circumscribed by a rude balance of power ;
the chiefs around him can probably bring as many warriors
into the field as he can." Similarly in Ashantee. " The
caboceers and captains . . . claim to be heard on all ques
tions relating to war and foreign politics. Such matters
are considered in a general assembly ; and the king sometimes
finds it prudent to yield to the views and urgent representa
tions of the majority." From the ancient American
states, too, instances may be cited. In Mexico "general
assemblies were presided over by the king every eighty days.
They came to these meetings from all parts of the country ; "
and then we read, further, that the highest rank of nobility,
the Teuctli, "took precedence of all others in the senate,
both in the order of sitting and voting : " showing what was
the composition of the senate. It was so, too, with the
Central Americans of Vera Paz. " Though the supreme rule
was exercised by a king, there were inferior lords as his
coadjutors, who mostly were titled lords and vassals ; they
formed the royal council . . . and joined the king in his
404 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
palace as often us they were called upon." Turning to
Europe, mention may first be made of ancient Poland.
Originally formed of independent tribes, " each governed by
its own kniaz, or judge, whom age or reputed wisdom had
raised to that dignity," and each led in war by a temporary
voivod or captain, these tribes had, in the course of that com
pounding and re-compounding which wars produced, differen
tiated into classes of nobles and serfs, over whom was an
elected king. Of the organization which existed before the
king lost his power, we are told that —
" Though each of these palatines, bishops, and barons, could thus advise
his sovereign, the formation of a regular senate was slow, and com
pleted only when experience had proved its utility. At first, the only
subjects on which the monarch deliberated with his barons related to
war : what he originally granted through courtesy, or through diffidence
in himself, or with a view to lessen his responsibility in case of failure,
they eventually claimed as a right."
So, too, during internal wars and wars against Borne, the
primitive Germanic tribes, once semi-nomadic and but slightly
orgam'zed, passing through the stage in which armed chiefs
and freemen periodically assembled for deliberations on war
and other matters, evolved a kindred structure. In Carolin-
gian days the great political gathering of the year was
simultaneous with the great military levy ; and the military
element entered into the foreground. Armed service being
the essential thing, and questions of peace and war being
habitually dominant, it resulted that all freemen, while under
obligation to attend, had also a right to be present at the
assembly and to listen to the deliberations. And then con
cerning a later period, as Hallam writes —
" In all the German principalities a form of limited monarchy pre
vailed, reiiecting, on a reduced scale, the general constitution of the
Empire. As the Emperors shared their legislative sovereignty with the
diet, so all the princes who belonged to that assembly had their own
provincial states, composed of their feudal vassals and of their mediate
towns within their territory."
In France, too, provincial estates existed for local rule ; and
there were consultative assemblies of general scope. Thus
CONSULTATIVE BODIES. 405
an " ordinance of 1228, respecting the heretics of Languedoc,
is rendered with the advice of our great men and prad-
hommes ; " and one " of 1246, concerning levies and re
demptions in Anjou and Maine," says that " having called
around us, at Orleans, the barons and great men of the said
counties, and having held attentive counsel with them," &c.
To meet the probable criticism that no notice has been
taken of the ecclesiastics usually included in the consultative
body, it is needful to point out that due recognition of them
does not involve any essential change in the account above
given. Though modern usages lead us to think of the priest-
class as distinct from the warrior-class, yet it was not origi
nally distinct. With the truth that habitually in militant
societies, the king is at once commander-in-chief and high
priest, carrying out in both capacities the dictates of his deity,
we may join the truth that the subordinate priest is usually a
direct or indirect aider of the wars thus supposed to be
divinely prompted. In illustration of the one truth may be
cited the fact that before going to war, Kadama, king of
Madagascar, " acting as priest as well as general, sacrificed a
cock and a heifer, and offered a prayer at the tomb of Andria-
Masina, his most renowned ancestor." And in illustration of
the other truth may be cited the fact that among the Hebrews,
whose priests accompanied the army to battle, we read of
Samuel, a priest from childhood upwards, as conveying to
Saul God's command to "smite Amalek," and as having
himself hewed Agag in pieces. More or less active partici
pation in war by priests we everywhere find in savage and
semi-civilized societies ; as among the Dakotas, Mundrucus,
Abipones, Khonds, whose priests decide en the time for war,
or give the signal for attack ; as among the Tahitians, whose
priests " bore arms, and inarched with the warriors to battle;"
as among the Mexicans, whose priests, the habitual instiga
tors of wars, accompanied their idols in front of the army, and
" sacrificed the first taken prisoners at once ; " as among the
ancient Egyptians, of whom we read that " the priest of a
406 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
god was often a military or naval commander." And the
naturalness of tlie connexion thus common in rude and in
ancient societies, is shown by its revival in later societies,
notwithstanding an adverse creed. After Christianity had
passed out of its early non-political stage into the stage in
which it became a State-religion, its priests, during actively
militant periods, re-acquired the primitive militant character.
" By the middle of the eighth century [in France], regular
military service on the part of the clergy was already fully
developed." In the early feudal period, bishops, abbots, and
priors, became feudal lords, with all the powers and responsi
bilities attaching to their positions. They had bodies of troops
in their pay, took towns and fortresses, sustained sieges, led
or sent troops in aid of kings. And Orderic, in 1094,
describes the priests as leading their parishioners to battle,
and the abbots their vassals. Though in recent times Church
dignitaries do not actively participate o. war, yet their
advisatory function respecting it — often prompting rather
than restraining — has not even now ceased ; as among our
selves was lately shown in the vote of the bishops, who, with
one exception, approved the invasion of Afghanistan.
That the consultative body habitually includes ecclesiastics,
does not, therefore, conflict with the statement that, beginning
as a war-council, it grows into a permanent assembly of minor
military heads.
§ 493. Under a different form, there is here partially
repeated what was set forth when treating of oligarchies : the
difference arising from inclusion of the king as a co-operative
factor. Moreover, much that was before said respecting the
influence of war in narrowing oligarchies, applies to that
narrowing of the primitive consultative assembly by which
there is produced from it a body of land-owning military
nobles. But the consolidation of small societies into large
ones effected by war, brings other influences which join iu
working this result.
CONSULTATIVE BODIES. 407
lu early assemblies of men similarly armed, it must happen
that though the inferior many will recognize that authority
of the superior few which is due to their leaderships as
warriors, to their clan-headships, or to their supposed super
natural descent ; yet the superior few, conscious that they are
no match for the inferior many in a physical contest, will be
obliged to treat their opinions with some deference — will not
be able completely to monopolize power. But as fast as
there progresses that class-differentiation before described, and
as fast as the superior few acquire better weapons than the
inferior many, or, as among various ancient peoples, have war-
chariots, or, as in mediaeval Europe, wear coats of mail or plate
armour and are mounted on horses, they, feeling their advantage,
will pay less respect to the opinions of the many. And the
habit of ignoring their opinions will be followed by the habit of
regarding any expression of their opinions as an impertinence.
This usurpation will be furthered by the growth of those
bodies of armed dependents with which the superior few
surround themselves — mercenaries and others, who, while
unconnected with the common freemen, are bound by fealty
to their employers. These, too, with better weapons and
defensive appliances than the mass, will be led to regard
them with contempt and to aid in subordinating them.
Not only on the occasions of general assemblies, but from
day to day in their respective localities, the increasing powers
of the nobles thus caused, will tend to reduce the freemen
more and more to the rank of dependents ; and especially so
where the military service of such nobles to their king is
dispensed with or allowed to lapse, as happened in Denmark
about the thirteenth century.
" The free peasantry, who were originally independent proprietors of
the soil, and had an equal suffrage with the highest nobles in the land,
were thus compelled to seek the protection of these powerful lords, and
to come under vassalage to some neighbouring Herremand, or bishop,
or convent. The provincial diets, or Lands-Ting, were gradually super
seded by the general nacional parliament of the Dannehof Adel-Ting,
or Herredag ; the latter being exclusively composed of the princes, pre-
408 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
lates, and other great men of 'the kingdom. ... As the influence
of the peasantry had declined, whilst the burghers did not yet enjoy
any share of political power, the constitution, although disjointed and
fluctuating, was rapidly approaching the form it ultimately assumed ;
that of a feudal and sacerdotal oligarchy."
Another influence conducing to loss of power by the armed
freemen, and gain of power by the armed chiefs who form
the consultative body, follows that widening of the occupied
area which goes along with the compounding and re-com
pounding of societies. As Eichter remarks of the Mero
vingian period, " under Chlodovech and his immediate
successors, the people assembled in arms had a real participa
tion in the resolutions of the king. But, with the increasing
size of the kingdom, the meeting of the entire people became
impossible : " only those who lived near the appointed places
could attend. Two facts, one already given under another
head, may be named as illustrating this effect. "The
greatest national council in Madagascar is an assembly of the
people of the capital, and the heads of the provinces, districts,
towns, villages," &c. ; and, speaking of the English Witenage-
mot, Mr. Freeman says — " sometimes we find direct mention
of the presence of large and popular classes of men, as the
citizens of London or Winchester : " the implication in both
cases being that all freemen had a right to attend, but that
only those on the spot could avail themselves of the right.
This cause for restriction, which is commented upon by Mr.
Freeman, operates in several ways. When a kingdom has
become large, the actual cost of a journey to the place fixed
for the meeting, is too great to be borne by a man who owns
but a few acres. Further, there is the indirect cost entailed
by loss of time, which, to one who personally labours or
superintends labour, is serious. Again, there is the danger,
which in turbulent times is considerable, save to those who go
with bodies of armed retainers. And, obviously, these deter
rent causes must tell where, for the above reasons, the incen
tives to attend have become small.
Yet one more cause co-operates. An assembly of all the
CONSULTATIVE CODIES. 409
armed freemen included in a large society, could they be
gathered, would be prevented from taking active part in the
proceedings, both by its size and by its lack of organization.
A multitude consisting of those who have come from scattered
points over a wide country, mostly unknown to one another,
unable to hold previous communication and therefore without
plans, as well as without leaders, cannot cope with the rela
tively small but well-organized body of those having common
ideas and acting in concert.
ISTor should there be omitted the fact that when the causes
above named have conspired to decrease the attendance of
men in arms who live afar off, and when there grows up the
usage of summoning the more important among them, it
naturally happens that in course of time the receipt of a
summons becomes the authority for attendance, and the
absence of a summons becomes equivalent to the absen-ce of
a right to attend.
Here, then, are several influences, all directly or indirectly
consequent upon war, which join in differentiating the con
sultative body from the mass of armed freemen out of which
it arises.
§ 494. Given the ruler, and given the consultative body
thus arising, there remains to ask — What are the causes of
change in their relative powers ? Always between these two
authorities there must be a struggle — each trying to subordi
nate the other. Under what conditions, then, is the king
enabled to over-ride the consultative body ? and under what
conditions is the consultative body enabled to over-ride the
king ?
A belief in the superhuman nature of the king gives him
an immense advantage in the contest for supremacy. If he is
god-descended, open opposition to his will by his advisers is
out of the question ; and members of his council, singly or in
combination, dare do no more than tender humble advice,
Moreover, if the line of succession is so settled that there
410 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
rarely or never occur occasions on which the king has to be
elected by the chief men, so that they have no opportunity of
choosing one who will conform to their wishes, they are
further debarred from maintaining any authority. Hence,
habitually, we do not find consultative bodies having an inde
pendent status in the despotically-governed countries of the
East, ancient or modern. Though we read of the Egyptian
king that " he appears to have been attended in war by the
council of the thirty, composed apparently of privy councillors,
scribes, and high officers of state," the implication is that the
members of this council were functionaries, having such
powers only as the king deputed to them. Similarly in
Babylonia and Assyria, attendants and others who performed
the duties of ministers and advisers to the god-descended
rulers, did not form established assemblies for deliberative
purposes. In ancient Persia, too, there was a like condition.
The hereditary king, almost sacred and bearing extravagant
titles, though subject to some check from princes and nobles
of royal blood who were leaders of the army, and who ten
dered advice, was not under the restraint of a constituted
body of them. Throughout the history of Japan down to our
own time, a kindred state of things existed. The Daimios
were required to reside in the capital during prescribed inter
vals, as a precaution against insubordination ; but they were
never, while there, called together to take any share in the
government. So too is it in China. We are told that,
" although there is nominally no deliberative or advisatory
body in the Chinese government, and nothing really analo
gous to a congress, parliament, or tiers etat, still necessity
compels the emperor to consult and advise with some of his
officers." Nor does Europe fail to yield us evidence of like
meaning. I do not refer only to the case of Russia, but
more especially to the case of France during the time
when monarchy had assumed an absolute form. In the age
when divines like "Bossuet taught that " the king is account
able to no one . the whole state is in him, and the will
CONSULTATIVE BODIES. 411
of the whole people is contained in his "— in the age when
the king (Louis XIV.), " imbued with the idea of his omnipo
tence and divine mission," " was regarded by his subjects with
adoration." he " had extinguished and absorbed even the
minutest trace, idea, and recollection of all other authority
except that which emanated from himself alone." Along
with establishment of hereditary succession and acquirement
of semi-divine character, such power of the other estates 'is
existed in early days had disappeared.
Conversely, there are cases showing that where the king
has never had, or does not preserve, the prestige of supposed
descent from a god, and where he continues to be elective,
the power of the consultative body is apt to over-ride the
royal power, and eventually to suppress it. The first to be
named is that of Eome. Originally " the king convoked the
senate when he pleased, and laid before it his questions ; no
senator might declare his opinion unasked ; still less might the
senate meet without being summoned." But here, where the
king, though regarded as having divine approval was not held
to be of divine descent, and where, though usually nominated
by a predecessor he was sometimes practically elected by the
senate, and always submitted to the form of popular assent,
the consultative body presently became supreme. "The
senate had in course of time been converted from a corporation
intended merely to advise the magistrates, into a board com
manding the magistrates and self-governing." Afterwards
" the right of nominating and cancelling senators originally
belonging to the magistrates was withdrawn from them ;"
and finally, " the irremovable character and life-tenure of the
members of the ruling order who obtained seat and vote, was
definitely consolidated:" the oligarchic constitution became
pronounced. The history of Poland yields another example.
After unions of simply-governed tribes had produced small
states, and generated a nobility ; and after these small states
had been united ; there arose a kingship. At first elective, as
kingships habitually are, this continued so — never became
412 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
hereditary. On the occasion of each election out of the royal
clan, there was an opportunity of choosing for king one whose
character the turbulent nobles thought fittest for their own
purposes; and hence it resulted that the power of the king
ship decayed. Eventually —
" Of the three orders into which the state was divided, the king, though
his authority had been anciently despotic, was the least important. His
dignity was unaccompanied with power ; he was merely the president
of the senate, and the chief judge of the republic."
And then there is the instance furnished by Scandinavia,
already named in another relation. Danish, Norwegian, and
Swedish kings were originally elective ; and though, on sundry
occasions, hereditary succession became for a time the usage,
there were repeated lapses into the elective form, with the
result that predominance was gained by the feudal chieftains
and prelates forming the consultative body.
§ 495. The second element in the tri-une political struc
ture is thus, like the first, developed by militancy. By this
the ruler is eventually separated from all below him ; and by
this the superior few are gradually integrated into a delibera
tive body, separated from the inferior many.
That the council of war, formed of leading warriors who
debate in presence of their followers, is the germ out of which
the consultative body arises, is implied by the survival of
usages which show that a political gathering is originally a
gathering of armed men. In harmony with this implication
are such facts as that after a comparatively settled state has
been reached, the power of the assembled people is limited to
accepting or rejecting the proposals made, and that the mem
bers of the consultative body, summoned by the ruler, who is
also the general, give their opinions only when invited by him
to do so.
Nor do we lack clues to the process by which the primitive
war-council grows, consolidates, and separates itself. Within
the warrior class, which is also the land-owning class, war
CONSULTATIVE BODIES. 413
produces increasing differences of wealth as well as increas
ing differences of status; so that, along with the com
pounding and re- compounding of groups, brought about
by war, the military leaders come to be distinguished as
large land-owners and local rulers. Hence members of the
consultative body become contrasted with the freemen at
large, not only as leading warriors are contrasted with their
followers, but still more as men of wealth and authority.
This increasing contrast between the second and third
elements of the tri-une political structure, ends in separation
when, in course of time, war consolidates large territories.
Armed freemen scattered over a wide area are deterred from
attending the periodic assemblies by cost of travel, by cost of
time, by danger, and also by the experience that multitudes
of men unprepared and unorganized, are helpless in presence
of an organized few, better armed and mounted, and with
bands of retainers. So that passing through a time during
which only the armed freemen living near the place of meet
ing attend, there comes a time when even these, not being
summoned, are considered as having no right to attend ; and
thus the consultative body becomes completely differentiated.
Changes in the relative powers of the ruler and the con
sultative body are determined by obvious causes. If the king
retains or acquires the repute of supernatural descent or
authority, and the law of hereditary succession is so settled
as to exclude election, those who might else have formed a
consultative body having co-ordinate power, become simply
appointed advisers. But if the king has not the prestige of
supposed sacred origin or commission, the consultative body
retains power ; and if the king continues to be elective, it is
liable to become an oligarchy.
Of course it is not alleged that all consultative bodies have
been generated in the way described, or are constituted in
like manner. Societies broken up by wars or dissolved by
revolutions, may preserve so little of their primitive organiza
tions that there remain no classes of the kinds out of which
414 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
such consultative bodies as those described arise. Or, as we
see in our own colonies, societies may have been formed in
ways which have not fostered classes of land-owning militant
chiefs, and therefore do not furnish the elements out of which
consultative bodies, in their primitive shapes, are composed.
Under conditions of these kinds the assemblies answering to
them, so far as may be, in position and function, arise under
the influence of tradition or example ; and in default of men
of the original kind are formed of others — generally, how
ever, of those who by position, seniority, or previous official
experience, are more eminent than those forming popular
assemblies. It is only to what may be called normal consulta
tive bodies which grow up during that compounding and re-
compounding of small societies into larger ones which war
effects, that the foregoing account applies ; and the senates,
or superior chambers, which come into existence under later
and more complex conditions, may be considered as homolo
gous to them in function and composition so far only as the
new conditions permit.
CHAPTER IX.
REPKE3ENTATIVE BODIES.
§ 496. Amid the varieties and complexities of political
organization, it has proved not impossible to discern the ways
in which simple political heads and compound political heads
are evolved; and how, under certain conditions, the two
become united as ruler and consultative body. But to see
how a representative body arises, proves to be more difficult ;
for both process and product are more variable. Less specific
results must content us.
As hitherto, so again, we must go back to the beginning to
take up the clue. Out of that earliest stage of the savage
horde in which there is no supremacy beyond that of the
man whose strength, or courage, or cunning, gives him pre
dominance, the first step is to the practice of election — •
deliberate choice of a leader in war. About the conducting
of elections in rude tribes, travellers say little : probably the
methods used are various. But we have accounts of elections
as they were made by European peoples during early times.
In ancient Scandinavia, the chief of a province chosen by the
assembled people, was thereupon " elevated amidst the clash
of arms and the shouts of the multitude ; " and among the
ancient Germans he was raised on a shield, as also was the
popularly-approved Merovingian king. Recalling, as this
ceremony does, the chairing of a newly-elected member of
parliament up to recent times ; and reminding us that origi
nally an election was by show of hands ; we are taught that
the choice of a representative was once identical with the
85
416 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
choice of a chief. Our House of Commons had its roots in
local gatherings like those in which uncivilized tribes select
head warriors.
Besides conscious selection there occurs among rude peoples
selection by lot. The Samoans, for instance, by spinning a
cocoa-nut, which, on coming to rest, points to one of the sur
rounding persons, thereby single him out. Early historic
races supply illustrations ; as the Hebrews in the affair of
Saul and Jonathan, and as the Homeric Greeks when fixing
on a champion to fight with Hector. In both these last cases
there was belief in supernatural interference: the lot was
supposed to be divinely determined. And probably at the
outset, choice by lot for political purposes among the Athe
nians, and for military purposes among the Romans, as also
in later times the use of the lot for choosing deputies in some
of the Italian republics, and in Spain (as in Leon during the
twelfth century) was influenced by a kindred belief; though
doubtless the desire to give equal chances to rich and poor, or
else to assign without dispute a mission which was onerous or
dangerous, entered into the motive or was even predominant.
Here, however, the fact to be noted is that this mode of
choice which plays a part in representation, may also be
traced back to the usages of primitive peoples.
So, too, we find foreshadowed the process of delegation.
Groups of men who open negociations, or who make their
submission, or who send tribute, habitually appoint certain
of their number to act for them. The method is, indeed,
necessitated ; since a tribe cannot well perform such actions
bodily. Whence, too, it appears that the sending of repre
sentatives is, at the first stage, originated by causes like those
which re-originate it at a later stage. For as the will of the
tribe, readily displayed in its assemblies to its own members,
cannot be thus displayed to other tribes, but must, in respect
of inter-tribal matters be communicated by deputy ; so in a
large nation, the people of each locality, able to govern them*
selves locally, but unable to join the peoples of remote
REPRESENTATIVE BODIES. 417
localities in deliberations which concern them all, ha\e to
send one or more persons to express their will. Distance in
both cases changes direct utterance of the popular voice into
indirect utterance.
Before observing the conditions under which this singling
out of individuals in one or other way for specified duties,
comes to be used in the formation of a representative body,
we must exclude classes of cases not relevant to our present
inquiry. Though representation as ordinarily conceived, and
as here to be dealt with, is associated with a popular form of
government, yet the connexion between" thorn is not a neces
sary one. In some places and times representation has co
existed with entire exclusion of the masses from power. In
Poland, both before and after the so-called republican form
was assumed, the central diet, in addition to senators
nominated by the king, was composed of nobles elected in
provincial assemblies of nobles : the people at large being
powerless and mostly serfs. In Hungary, too, up to recent
times, the privileged class which, even after it had been
greatly enlarged reached only "one-twentieth of the adult
males," alone formed the basis of representation. " A Hun
garian county before the reforms of 1848 might be called a
direct aristocratical republic : " all members of the noble class
having a right to attend the local assembly and vote in
appointing a representative noble to the general diet; but
members of the inferior classes having no shares in the
government.
Other representative bodies than those of an exclusively
aristocratic kind, must be named as not falling within the
scope of this chapter. As Duruy remarks— "Antiquity was
not as ignorant as is supposed of the representative sys
tem. . . . Each Eoman province had its general assem
blies. . . . Thus the Lycians possessed a true legislative
body formed by the deputies of their twenty-three towns."
"This assembly had even executive functions." And Gaul,
Spain, all the eastern provinces, and Greece, had like assent
418 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
blies. But, little as is known of them, the inference is
tolerably safe that these were but distantly allied in genesis
and position to the bodies we now distinguish as representa
tive. Nor are we concerned with those senates and councils
elected by different divisions of a town-population (such as
were variously formed in the Italian republics) which served
simply as agents whose doings were subject to the directly-
expressed approval or disapproval of the assembled citizens.
Here we must limit ourselves to that kind of representative
body which arises in communities occupying areas so large
that their members are obliged to exercise by deputy such
powers as they possess ; and, further, we have to deal exclu
sively with cases in which the assembled deputies do not
replace pre-existing political agencies but cooperate with
them.
It will be well to set out by observing, more distinctly
than we have hitherto clone, what part of the primitive
political structure it is from which the representative body,
as thus conceived, originates.
§ 497. Broadly, this question is tacitly answered by the
contents of preceding chapters. For if, on occasions of public
deliberation, the primitive horde spontaneously divides into
the inferior many and the superior few, among whom some one
is most influential ; and if, in the course of that compounding
and re-compounding of groups which war brings about, the
recognized war-chief develops into the king, while the superior
few become the consultative body formed of minor military
leaders ; it follows that any third co-ordinate political power
must be either the mass of the inferior itself, or else some
agency acting on its behalf. Truism though this may be
called, it is needful here to set it down; since, before
inquiring under what circumstances the growth of a repre
sentative system follows the growth of popular power, we
have to recognize the relation between the two.
The undistinguished mass, retaining a latent supremacy in
REPRESENTATIVE BODIES. 419
simple societies not yet politically organized, though it is
brought under restraint as fast as war establishes obedience,
and conquests produce class-differentiations, tends, when
occasion permits, to re-assert itself. The sentiments and
beliefs, organized and transmitted, which, during certain
stages of social evolution, lead the many to submit to the
few, come, under some circumstances, to be traversed by other
sentiments and beliefs. Passing references have been in
several places made to these. Here we must consider them
seriatim and more at length.
One factor in the development of the patriarchal group
during the pastoral stage, was shown to be the fostering of
subordination to its head by war ; since, continually, there
survived the groups in which subordination was greatest.
But if so, the implication is that, conversely, cessation of
war tends to diminish subordination. Members of the com
pound family, originally living together and fighting together,
become less strongly bound in proportion as they have less
frequently to cooperate for joint defence under their head.
Hence, the more peaceful the state the more independent
become the multiplying divisions forming the gens, the
phratry, and the tribe. With progress of industrial life arises
greater freedom of action — especially among the distantly-
related members of the group.
So must it be, too, in a feudally-governed assemblage.
While standing quarrels with neighbours are ever leading to
local battles — while bodies of men-at-arms are kept ready,
and vassals are from time to time summoned to fight —
while, as a concomitant of military service, acts of homage
are insisted upon ; there is maintained a regimental sub
jection running through the group. But as fast as aggres
sions and counter-aggressions become less frequent, the
carrying of arms becomes less needful; there is less occa
sion for periodic expressions of fealty; and there is an
increase of daily actions performed without direction of a
superior, whence a fostering of individuality of character.
420 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
These changes are furthered by the decline of superstitious
beliefs concerning the natures of head men, general and local.
As before shown, the ascription of superhuman origin, or
supernatural power, to the king, greatly strengthens his
hands ; and where the chiefs of component groups have a
eacredness due to nearness in blood to the semi-divine
ancestor worshipped by all, 01 are members of an invading,
god-descended race, their authority over dependents is largely
enforced. By implication then, whatever undermines ancestor-
worship, and the system of beliefs accompanying it, favours
the growth of popular power. Doubtless the spread of
Christianity over Europe, by diminishing the prestige of
governors, major and minor, prepared the way for greater
independence of the governed.
These causes have relatively small effects where the people
are scattered. In rural districts the authority of political
superiors is weakened with comparative slowness. Even after
peace has become habitual, and local heads have lost their
semi-sacred characters, there cling to them awe-inspiring
traditions : they are not of ordinary flesh and blood. Wealth
which, through long ages, distinguishes the nobleman exclu
sively, gives him both actual power and the power arising
from display. Fixed literally or practically, as the several
grades of his inferiors are during days when locomotion is
difficult, he long remains for them the solitary sample of a
great man. Others are only known by hearsay ; he is known
by experience. Inspection is easily maintained by him over
dependent and sub-dependent people ; and the disrespectful
or rebeUious, if they cannot be punished overtly, can be
deprived of occupation, or otherwise so hindered in their
lives that they must submit or migrate. Down to our own
day, the behaviour of peasants and farmers to the squire, is
suggestive of the strong restraints which kept rural popula
tions in semi-servile states after primitive controlling
influences had died away.
Converse effects may be expected under converse condi-
REPRESENTATIVE BODIES. 421
tions; namely, where large numbers become closely aggre
gated. Even if such large numbers are formed of groups
severally subordinate to heads of clans, or to feudal lords,
sundry influences combine to diminish subordination. When
there are present in the same place many superiors to whom
respectively their dependents owe obedience, these superiors
tend to dwarf one another. The power of no one is so im
posing if there are daily seen others who make like displays.
Further, when groups of dependents are mingled, supervision
cannot be so well maintained by their heads. And this which
hinders the exercise of control, facilitates combination among
those to be controlled : conspiracy is made easier and detec
tion of it more difficult. Again, jealous of one another, as
these heads of clustered groups are likely in such circum
stances to be, they are prompted severally to strengthen
themselves; and to this end, competing for popularity, are
tempted to relax the restraints over their inferiors and to
give protection to inferiors ill-used by other heads. Still
more are their powers undermined when the assemblage
includes many aliens. As before implied, this above all
causes favours the growth of popular power. In proportion
as immigrants, detached from the gentile or feudal divisions
they severally belong to, become numerous, they weaken the
structures of the divisions among which they live. Such
organization as these strangers fall into is certain to be a
looser one; and their influence acts as a dissolvent to the
surrounding organizations.
And here we are brought back to the truth which cannot
be too much insisted upon, that growth of popular power is
in all ways associated with trading activities. For only by
trading activities can many people be brought to live in close
contact. Physical necessities maintain the wide dispersion
of a rural population; while physical necessities impel the
gathering together of those who are commercially occupied
Evidence from various countries and times shows that periodic
gatherings for religious rites, or other public purposes, furnish
422 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
opportunities for buying and selling, which are habitually
utilized; and this connexion between the assembling of many
people and the exchanging of commodities, which first shows
itself at intervals, becomes a permanent connexion where
many people become permanently assembled — where a town
grows up in the neighbourhood of a temple, or around a
stronghold, or in a place favoured by local circumstances for
some manufacture.
Industrial development further aids popular emancipation
by generating an order of men whose power, derived from
their wealth, competes with, and begins in some cases to
exceed, the power of those who previously were alone wealthy
— the men of rank. While this initiates a conflict which
diminishes the influence previously exercised by patriarchal
or feudal heads only, it also initiates a milder form of sub
ordination. Kising, as the rich trader habitually does in early
times, from the non-privileged class, the relation between
him and those under him is one from which there is excluded
the idea of personal subjection. In proportion as the indus
trial activities grow predominant, they make familiar a con
nexion between employer and employed which differs from
the relation between master and slave, or lord and vassal, by
not including allegiance. Under earlier conditions there does
not exist the idea of detached individual life — life which
neither receives protection from a clan-head or feudal supe
rior, nor is carried on in obedience to him. But in town
populations, made up largely of refugees, who either become
small traders or are employed by great ones, the experience
of a relatively-independent life becomes common, and the
conception of it clear.
And the form of cooperation distinctive of the industrial
state thus arising, fosters the feelings and thoughts appro
priate to popular power. In daily usage there is a balancing
of claims ; and the idea of equity is, generation after genera
tion, made more definite. The relations between employer
and employed, and between buyer and seller, can be main-
REPRESENTATIVE BODIES. 423
tained only on condition that the obligations on either side
are fulfilled. Where they are not fulfilled the relation lapses,
and leaves outstanding those relations in which they are ful
filled. Commercial success and growth have thus, as their
inevitable concomitants, the maintenance of the respective
rights of those concerned, and a strengthening consciousness
of them.
In brief, then, dissolving in various ways the old relation
of status, and substituting the new relation of contract (to
use Sir Henry Maine's antithesis), progressing industrialism
brings together masses of people who by their circumstances
are enabled, and by their discipline prompted, to modify the
political organization which militancy has bequeathed.
§ 498. It is common to speak of free forms of government
as having been initiated by happy accidents. Antagonisms
between different powers in the State, or different factions,
have caused one or other of them to bid for popular support,
with the result of increasing popular power. The king's
jealousy of the aristocracy has induced him to enlist the
sympathies of the people (sometimes serfs but more fre
quently citizens) and therefore to favour them ; or, otherwise,
the people have profited by alliance with the aristocracy in
resisting royal tyrannies and exactions. Doubtless, the facts
admit of being thus presented. With conflict there habitually
goes the desire for allies ; and throughout mediaeval Europe
while the struggles between monarchs and barons were
chronic, the support of the towns was important. Germany,
France, Spain, Hungary, furnish illustrations.
But it is an error to regard occurrences of these kinds as
causes of popular power. They are to be regarded rather as
the conditions under which the causes take effect. These
incidental weakenings of pre-existing institutions, do but
furnish opportunities for the action of the pent-up force which
is ready to work political changes. Three factors in this
force may be distinguished : — the relative mass of those com-
424 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
posing the industrial communities as distinguished from those
embodied in the older forms of organization ; the permanent
sentimei ts and ideas produced in them by their mode of
life ; and the temporary emotions roused by special acts of
oppression or by distress. Let us observe the cooperation of
these.
Two instances, occurring first in order of time, are fur
nished by the Athenian democracy. The condition which
preceded the Solonian legislation, was one of violent dis
sension among political factions ; and there was also " a
general mutiny of the poorer population against the rich, re
sulting from misery combined with oppression." The more
extensive diffusion of power effected by the revolution which
Kleisthenes brought about, occurred under kindred circum
stances. The relatively-detached population of immigrant
traders, had so greatly increased between the time of Solon
and that of Kleisthenes, that the four original tribes forming
the population of Attica had to be replaced by ten. And
then this augmented mass, largely composed of men not
under clan-discipline, and therefore less easily restrained by
the ruling classes, forced itself into predominance at a time
when the ruling classes were divided. Though it is said that
Kleisthenes " being vanquished in a party contest with his
rival, took the people into partnership" — though the change
is represented as being one thus personally initiated ; yet in
the absence of that voluminous popular will which had long
been growing, the .political re-organization could not have
been made, or, if made, could not have been maintained.
The remark which Grote quotes from Aristotle, " that sedi
tions are generated by great causes but out of small incidents,"
if altered slightly by writing "political changes" instead of
"seditions," fully applies. For clearly, once having been
enabled to assert itself, this popular power could not be forth
with excluded. Kleisthenes could not under such circum
stances have imposed on so large a mass of men arrangements
at variance with their wishes. Practically, therefore, it was the
REPRESENTATIVE BODIES. 425
growing industrial power which then produced, and thereafter
preserved, the democratic organization. Turning to
Italy, we first note that the establishment of the small
republics, referred to in a preceding chapter as having been
simultaneous with the decaj' of imperial power, may here be
again referred to more specifically as having been simul
taneous with that conflict of authorities which caused this
decay. Says Sismondi, " the war of investitures gave wing
to this universal spirit of liberty and patriotism in all the
municipalities of Lombardy, of Piedmont, Venetia, Eomagna,
and Tuscany." In other words, while the struggle between
Emperor and Pope absorbed the strength of both, it became
possible for the people to assert themselves. And at a later
time, Florence furnished an instance similar in nature if
somewhat different in form.
"At the moment when * Florence expelled the Medici, that republic
was bandied between three different parties.' Savonarola took advan
tage of this state of affairs to urge that the people should reserve their
power to themselves, and exercise it by a council. His proposition was
agreed to, and this ' council was declared sovereign/ "
In the case of Spain, again, popular power increased during
the troubles accompanying the minority of Fernando IV. ;
and of the periodic assemblies subsequently formed by
deputies from certain towns (which met without authority of
the Government) we read that —
" The desire of the Government to frustrate the aspiring schemes of
the Infantes de la Cerda, and their numerous adherents, made the
attachment of these assemblies indispensable. The disputes during the
minority of Alfonso XI. more than ever favoured the pretensions of
the third estate. Each of the candidates for the regency paid assiduous
court to the municipal authorities, in the hope of obtaining the neces
sary suffrages."
And how all this was consequent on industrial development,
appears in the facts that many, if not most, of these associated
towns, had arisen during a preceding age by the re-coloniza
tion of regions desolated during the prolonged contests of
Moors and Christians ; and that these " poblaciones," or com
munities of colonists, which, scattered over these vast tracts
426 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
grew into prosperous towns, had been formed of serfs and
artizans to whom various privileges, including those of self-
government, were given by royal charter. With
which examples must be joined the example familiar to all.
For in England it was during the. struggle between king and
barons, when the factions were nearly balanced, and when
the town-populations had been by trade so far increased that
their aid was important, that they came to play a noticeable
part, first as allies in war and afterwards as sharers in govern
ment. It cannot be doubted that when summoning to the
parliament of 1265, not only knights of the shire but also
deputies from cities and boroughs, Simon of Montfort was
prompted by the desire to strengthen himself against the
royal party supported by the Pope. And whether he sought
thus to increase his adherents, or to obtain larger pecuniary
means, or both, the implication equally is that the urban
populations had become a relatively-important part of the
nation. This interpretation harmonizes with subsequent
events. For though the representation of towns afterwards
lapsed, yet it shortly revived, and in 1295 became established.
As Hume remarks, such an institution could not "have
attained to so vigorous a growth and have flourished in the
midst of such tempests and convulsions," unless it had been
one, "for which the general state of things had already pre
pared the nation :" the truth here to be added being that this
"general state of things" was the augmented mass, and hence
augmented influence, of the free industrial communities.
Confirmation is supplied by cases showing that power
gained by the people during times when the regal and aris
tocratic powers are diminished by dissension, is lost again if,
while the old organization recovers its stability and activity,
industrial growth does not make proportionate progress.
Spain, or more strictly Castile, yields an example. Such
share in government as was acquired by those industrial
communities which grew up during the colonization of the
Waste lands, became, in the space of a few reigns characterized
REPRESENTATIVE BODIES. 427
by successful wars and resulting consolidations, scarcely more
than nominal
§ 499. It is instructive to note how that primary incentive
to cooperation which initiates social union at large, continues
afterwards to initiate special unions within the general union.
For just as external militancy sets up and carries on the
organization of the whole, so does internal militancy set up
and carry OJL the organization of the parts ; even when those
parts, industrial in their activities, are intrinsically non-
militant. On looking into their histories we find that the
increasing clusters of people who, forming towns, lead lives
essentially distinguished by continuous exchange of services
under agreement, develop their governmental structures
during their chronic antagonisms with the surrounding mili
tant clusters.
We see, first, that these settlements of traders, growing
important and obtaining royal charters, were by doing this
placed in quasi-militant positions — became in modified ways
holders of fiefs from their king, and had the associated re
sponsibilities. Habitually they paid dues of sundry kinds
equivalent in general nature to those paid by feudal tenants ;
and, like them, they were liable to military service. In
Spanish chartered towns tc this was absolutely due from every
inhabitant ;" and " every man of a certain property was bound
to serve on horseback or pay a fixed sum." In France " in
the charters of incorporation which towns received, the
number of troops required wras usually expressed." And in
the chartered royal burghs of Scotland " every burgess was a
direct vassal of the crown."
Next observe that industrial towns (usually formed by
coalescence of pre-existing rural divisions rendered populous
because local circumstances favoured some form of trade, and
presently becoming places of hiding for fugitives, and of
security for escaped serfs) began to stand toward the small
feudally-governed groups around them, in relations like those
428 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
in which these stood to one another : competing with them
for adherents, and often fortifying themselves. Sometimes,
too, as in France in the 13th century, towns became suze
rains, while communes had the right of war in numerous
cases; and in England in early days the maritime towns
carried on wars with one another.
Again there is the fact that these cities and boroughs,
which by royal charter or otherwise had acquired powers of
administering their own affairs, habitually formed within
themselves combinations for protective purposes. In England,
in Spain, in France, in Germany (sometimes with assent of
the king, sometimes notwithstanding his reluctance as in
England, sometimes in defiance of him, as in ancient Holland)
there rose up gilds, which, having their roots in the natural
unions among related persons, presently gave origin to frith-
gilds and merchant-gilds ; and these, defensive in their rela
tions to one another, formed the bases of that municipal
organization which carried on the general defence against
aggressing nobles.
Once more, in countries' where the antagonisms between
these industrial communities and the surrounding militant
communities were violent and chronic, the industrial com
munities combined to defend themselves. In Spain the
" poblaciones," which when they flourished and grew into
large places were invaded and robbed by adjacent feudal
lords, formed leagues for mutual protection ; and at a latek
date there arose, under like needs, more extensive confedera
tions of cities and towns, which, under severe penalties foi
non-fulfilment of the obligations, bound themselves to aid
one another in resisting aggressions, whether by king or
nobles. In Germany, too, we have the perpetual alliance
entered into by sixty towns on the Rhine in 1255, when,
during the troubles that followed the deposition of the
Emperor Frederic II., the tyranny of the nobles had become
insupportable. And we have the kindred unions formed
under like incentives in Holland and in France. So that,
BEPKESENTATIVE BODIES. 429
both in small and in large ways, the industrial groups here
and there growing up within a nation, are, in many cases,
forced by local antagonisms partially to assume activities
and structures like those which the nation as a whole is
forced to assume in its antagonisms with nations around.
Here the implication chiefly concerning us is that if indus
trialism is thus checked by a return to militancy, the growth
of popular power is arrested. Especially where, as happened
in the Italian republics, defensive war passes into offensive
war, and there grows up an ambition to conquer other terri
tories and towns, the free form of government proper to
industrial life, becomes qualified by, if it does not revert to,
the coercive form accompanying militant life. Or where, as
happened in Spain, the feuds between towns and nobles con
tinue through long periods, the rise of free institutions is
arrested; since, under such conditions, there can be neither
that commercial prosperity which produces large urban popu
lations, nor a cultivation of the associated mental nature.
Whence it may be inferred that the growth of popular power
accompanying industrial growth in England, was largely due
to the comparatively small amount of this warfare between
the industrial groups and the feudal groups around them.
The effects of the trading life were less interfered with ; and
the local governing centres, urban and rural, were not pre
vented from uniting to restrain the general centre.
§ 500. And now let us consider more specifically how the
governmental influence of the people is acquired. By the
histories of organizations of whatever kind, we are shown
that the purpose originally subserved by some arrangement is
not always the purpose eventually subserved. It is so here.
Assent to obligations rather than assertion of rights has ordi
narily initiated the increase of popular power. Even the
transformation effected by the revolution of Kleisthenes at
Athens, took the form of a re-distribution of tribes and denies
for purposes of taxation and military service. In Home, too,
430 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
that enlargement of the oligarchy which occurred under
Servius Tullius, had for its ostensible motive the imposing on
plebeians of obligations which up to that time had been
borne exclusively by patricians. But we shall best under
stand this primitive relation between duty and power, in
which the duty is original and the power derived, by goicg
back once more to the beginning.
For when we remember that the primitive political assembly
is essentially a war-council, formed of leaders who debate in
presence of their followers ; and when we remember that in
early stages all free adult males, being warriors, are called on to
join in defensive or offensive actions ; we see that, originally,
the attendance of the armed freemen is in pursuance of the
military service to which they are bound, and that such power
as, when thus assembled, they exercise, is incidental. Later
stages yield clear proofs that this is the normal order ; for it
recurs where, after a political dissolution, political organiza
tion begins de novo. Instance the Italian cities, in which, as
we have seen, the original "parliaments," summoned for
defence by the tocsin, included all the men capable of bearing
arms : the obligation to fight coming first, and the right to
vote coming second. And, naturally, this duty of attendance
survives when the primitive assemblage assumes other
functions than those of a militant kind ; as witness the before-
named fact that among the Scandinavians it was " disrepu
table for freemen not to attend " the annual assembly ; and
the further facts that in France the obligation to be present at
the hundred-court in the Merovingian period, rested upon all
full freemen ; that in the Carolingian period " non-attendanco
is punished by fines" ; that in England the lower freemen, as
well as others, were "bound to attend the shire-moot and
hundred-moot " under penalty of " large fines for neglect of
duty ;" and that in the thirteenth century in Holland, when
the burghers were assembled for public purposes, " anyone
ringing the town bell, except by general consent, and anyone
not appearing when it tolls, are liable to a fine."
REPRESENTATIVE BODIES. 431
After recognizing this primitive relation between popular
duty and popular power, we shall more clearly understand
the relation as it re-appears when popular power begins to
revive along with the growth of industrialism. For here,
again, the fact meets us that the obligation is primary and the
power secondary. It is mainly as furnishing aid to the ruler,
generally for war purposes, that the deputies from towns
begin to share in public affairs. There recurs under a com
plex form, that which at an early stage we see in a simple
form. Let us pause a moment to observe the transition.
As was shown when treating of Ceremonial Institutions,
the revenues of rulers are derived, at first wholly and after
wards partially, from presents. The occasions on which
assemblies are called together to discuss public affairs (mainly
military operations for which supplies are needed) naturally
become the occasions on which the expected gifts are offered
and received. When by successful wars the militant king
consolidates small societies into a large one — when there
comes an " increase of royal power in intension as the king
dom increases in extension " (to quote the luminous expres
sion of Prof. Stubbs) ; and when, as a consequence, the quasi-
voluntary gifts become more and more compulsory, though
still retaining such names as donum and aiucilium; it generally
happens that these exactions, passing a bearable limit, lead to
resistance : at first passive and in extreme cases active. If
by consequent disturbances the royal power is much weakened,
the restoration of order, if it takes place, is "likely to take
place on the understanding that, with such modifications as
may be needful, the primitive system of voluntary gifts shall
be re-established. Thus, when in Spain the death of Sancho T.
was followed by political dissensions, the deputies from thirty-
two places, who assembled at Valladolid, decided that demands
made by the king beyond the customary dues should be
answered by death of the messenger ; and the need for gaining
the adhesion of the towns during the conflict with a pre
tender, led to an apparent toleration of this attitude. Simi-
80
432 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
larly in the next century, during disputes as to the regency
while Alphonso XI. was a minor, the cortes at Burgos
demanded that the towns should " contribute nothing beyond
what was prescribed in" their charters. Kindred causes
wrought kindred results in France; as when, by an insur*
rectionary league, Louis Hutin was obliged to grant charters
to the nobles and burgesses of Picardy and of Normandy,
renouncing the right of imposing undue exactions; and as
when, on sundry occasions, the States-general were assembled
for the purpose of reconciling the nation to imposts levied
to carry on wars. Nor must its familiarity cause us to omit;
the instance furnished by our own history, when, after pre
liminary steps towards that end at St. Alban's and St.
Edmund's, nobles and people at Eunnymede effectually
restrained the king from various tyrannies, and, among others,
from that of imposing taxes, without the consent of his sub
jects.
And now what followed from arrangements which, with
modifications due to local conditions, were arrived at in several
countries under similar circumstances ? Evidently when the
king, hindered from enforcing unauthorized demands, had to
obtain supplies by asking his subjects, or the more powerful
of them, his motive for summoning them, or their representa
tives, became primarily that of getting these supplies. The
predominance of this motive for calling together national
assemblies, may be inferred from its predominance previously
shown in connexion with local assemblies ; as instance a
writ of Henry I. concerning shire-moots, in which, professing
to restore ancient custom, he says — " I will cause those courts
to be summoned when I will for my own sovereign necessity,
at my pleasure." To vote money is therefore the primary
purpose for which chief men and representatives are as
sembled.
§ 501. From the ability to prescribe conditions under which
money will be voted, grows the ability, and finally the right,
REPRESENTATIVE BODIES. 433
to join in legislation. This connexion is vaguely typified in
early stages of social evolution. Making gifts and getting
rodress go together from the beginning. As was said of Gulab
Singh, when treating of presents— " even in a crowd one
could catch his eye by holding up a rupee and crying out,
' Maharajah, a petition/ He would pounce down like a hawk
en the money, and, having appropriated it, would patiently
hear out the petitioner."* I have in the same place given
further examples of this relation between yielding support to
the governing agency, and demanding protection from it ; and
the examples there given may be enforced by such others as
that, among ourselves in early days, " the king's court itself,
though the supreme judicature of the kingdom, was open to
none that brought not presents to the king/' and that,
as shown by the exchequer rolls, every remedy for a grievance
or security against aggression had to be paid for by a bribe :
a state of things which, as Hume remarks, was paralleled on
the Continent.
Such being the original connexion between support of the
political head and protection by the political head, the inter
pretation of the actions of parliamentary bodies, when they
arise, becomes clear. Just as in rude assemblies of king,
military chiefs, and armed freemen, preserving in large
measure the primitive form, as those in France during the
Merovingian period, the presentation of gifts went along with
the transaction of public business, judicial as well as military
— just as in our own ancient shire-moot, local government, in
cluding the administration of justice, was accompanied by the
furnishing of ships and the payment of " a composition for
the feorm-fultum, or sustentation of the king ;" so when, after
successful resistance to excess of royal power, there came
* Eeference to the passage since made shows not only this initial relation,
but still more instructively shows that at the very beginning there arises the
question whether protection shall come first and payment afterwards, or pay
ment first and protection afterwards. For the passage continues : — " Once a
man after this fashion making a complaint, when the Maharajah was taking
the rupee, closed his hand on it, and said, ' No, first hear what I have to say.' "
434 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
assemblies of nobles and representatives summoned by the
king, there re-appeared, on a higher platform, these simulta
neous demands for money on the one side and for justice on
the other. We may assume it as certain that with an average
humanity, the conflicting egoisms of those concerned will be
the main factors ; and that on each side the aim will be to
give as little, and get as much, as circumstances allow. France,
Spain, and England, yield examples which unite in showing
this.
When Charles V. of France, in 1357, dismissing the States-
general for alleged encroachments on his rights, raised money
by further debasing the coinage, and caused a sedition in
Paris which endangered his life, there was, three months later,
a re-convocation of the States, in which the petitions of the
former assembly were acceded to, while a subsidy for war
purposes was voted. And of an assembled States-general in
1366, Hallam writes : — " The necessity of restoring the coinage
is strongly represented as the grand condition upon which
they consented to tax the people, who had been long defrauded
by the base money of Philip the Fair and his successors."
Again, in Spain, the incorporated towns, made liable by their
charters only for certain payments and services, had continually
to resist unauthorized demands ; while the kings, continually
promising not to take more than their legal and customary
dues, were continually breaking their promises. In 1328
Alfonso XL " bound himself not to exact from his people, or
cause them to pay, any tax, either partial or general, not
hitherto established by law, without the previous grant of all
the deputies convened by the Cortes." And how little such
pledges were kept is shown by the fact that, in 1393, the Cortes
who made a grant to Henry III., joined the condition that—
" He should swear before one of the archbishops not to take or demand
any money, service, or loan, or anything else of the cities and towns, nor
of individuals belonging to them, on any pretence of necessity, until the
three estates of the kingdom should first be duly summoned and
assembled in Cortes according to ancient usage."
Similarly in England during the time when parliamentary
REPRESENTATIVE BODIES. 435
power was being established. While, with national consoli
dation, the royal authority had been approaching to absolute
ness, there had been, by reaction, arising that resistance which,
resulting in the Great Charter, subsequently initiated the
prolonged struggle between the king, trying to break through
its restraints, and his subjects trying to maintain .and to
strengthen them. The twelfth article of the Charter having
promised that no scutage or aid save those which were esta
blished should be imposed without consent of the national
council, there perpetually recurred, both before and after the
expansion of Parliament, endeavours on the king's part to
get supplies without redressing grievances, and endeavours on
the part of Parliament to make the voting of supplies con
tingent on fulfilment of promises to redress grievances.
On the issue of this struggle depended the establishment of
popular power ; as we are shown by comparing the histories
of the French and Spanish Parliaments with that of the
English Parliament. Quotations above given prove that the
Cortes originally established, and for a time maintained, the
right to comply with or to refuse the king's requests for
money, and to impose their conditions ; but they eventually
failed to get their conditions fulfilled.
" In the struggling condition of Spanish liberty under Charles I., the
crown began to neglect answering the petitions of Cortes, or to use un
satisfactory generalities of expression. This gave rise to many remon
strances. The deputies insisted, in 1523, on having answers before they
granted money. They repeated the same contention in 1525, and
obtained a general law, inserted in the Eecopilacion, enacting that the
king should answer all their petitions before he dissolved the assembly.
This, however, was disregarded as before."
And thereafter rapidly went on the decay of parliamentary
power. Different in form but the same in nature, was the
change which occurred in France. Having at one time, as
shown above, made the granting of money conditional on the
obtainment of justice, the States-general was induced to
Burrender its restraining powers. Charles VII. —
"obtained from the States of the royal domains which met in 1439 that
436 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
they [the tallies] should be declared permanent, and from 1444 he levied
them as such, i.e. uninterruptedly and without previous vote. . . .
The permanence of the tallies was extended to the provinces annexed
to the crown, but these preserved the right of voting them by their pro
vincial estates. ... In the hands of Charles VII., and Louis XL,
the royal impost tended to be freed from all control. . . . Its amount
increased more and more."
Whence, as related by Dareste, it resulted that " when the
tallies and aides . . . had been made permanent, the
convocation of the States-general ceased to be necessary.
They were little more than show assemblies." But in our
own case, during the century succeeding the final establish
ment of Parliament, frequent struggles necessitated by royal
evasions, trickeries, and falsehoods, brought increasing power
to withhold supplies until petitions had been attended to.
Admitting that this issue was furthered by the conflicts of
political factions, which diminished the coercive power of the
king, the truth to be emphasized is that the increase of a free
industrial population was its fundamental cause. The calling
together knights of the shire, representing the class of small
landowners, which preceded on several occasions the calling
together deputies from towns, implied the growing im
portance of this class as one from which money was to be
raised ; and when deputies from towns were summoned to the
Parliament of 1295, the form of summons shows that the
motive was to get pecuniary aid from portions of the popula
tion which had become relatively considerable and rich.
Already the king had on more than one occasion sent special
agents to shires and boroughs to raise subsidies from them
for his wars. Already he had assembled provincial councils
formed of representatives from cities, boroughs, and market-
towns, that he might ask them for votes of money. And
when the great Parliament was called together, the reason set
forth in the writs was that wars with Wales, Scotland, and
France, were endangering the realm : the implication being
that the necessity for obtaining supplies led to this recogni
tion of the towns as well as the counties.
REPRESENTATIVE BODIES. 437
So too was it in Scotland. The first known occasion on
which representatives from burghs entered into political
action, was when there was iirgent need for pecuniary help
from all sources; namely, "at Cambuskenneth on the loth
day of July, 1326, when Bruce claimed from his people a
revenue to meet the expenses of his glorious war and the
necessities of the State, which was granted to the monarch
by the earls, barons, burgesses, and free tenants, in full
parliament assembled."
In which cases, while we are again shown that the obliga
tion is original and the power derived, we are also shown that
it is the increasing mass of those who carry on life by volun
tary cooperation instead of compulsory cooperation — partly
the rural class of small freeholders and still more the urban
class of traders — which initiates popular representation.
§ 502. Still there remains the question — How does the
representative body become separate from the consultative
body ? Eetaining the primitive character of councils of war,
national assemblies were in the beginning mixed. The dif
ferent " arms," as the estates were called in Spain, originally
formed a single body. Knights of the shire when first sum
moned, acting on behalf of numerous smaller tenants of the
king owing military service, sat and voted with the greater
tenants. Standing, as towns did at the outset, very much in the
position of fiefs, those who represented them were not unallied
in legal status to feudal chiefs ; and, at first assembling with
these, in some cases remained united with them, as appears to
have been habitually the case in France and Spain. Under
what circumstances, then, do the consultative and representa
tive bodies differentiate ? The question is one to which there
seems no very satisfactory answer.
Quite early we may see foreshadowed a tendency to part,
determined by unlikeness of functions. During the Carolin-"
gian period in France, there were two annual gatherings : a
larger which all the armed freemen had a right to attend, and
438 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
a smaller formed of the greater personages deliberating on
more special affairs.
" If the weather was fine, all this passed in the open air ; if not, in
distinct buildings . . . When the lay and ecclesiastical lords were
. . . separated from the multitude, it remained in their option to sifc
together, or separately, according to the affairs of which they had to
treat."
And that unlikeness of functions is a cause of separation
we find .evidence in other places and times. Describing the
armed national assemblies of the Hungarians, originally
mixed, Levy writes : — " La derniere reunion de ce genre eut
lieu quelque temps avant la bataille de Mohacs ; mais bientot
apres, la diete se divisa en . deux chambres : la table des
magnats et la table des deputes." In Scotland, again, in
1367 — 8, the three estates having met, and wishing, for
reasons of economy and convenience, to be excused from
their functions as soon as possible, " elected certain persons to
hold Parliament, who were divided into two bodies, one for
the general affairs of the king and kingdom, and another, a
smaller division, for acting as judges upon appeals." In the
case of England we find that though, in the writs calling
together Simon of Montfort's Parliament, no distinction was
made between magnates and deputies, yet when, a generation
after, Parliament became established, the writs made a dis
tinction : " counsel is deliberately mentioned in the invitation
to the magnates, action and consent in the invitation to
representatives." Indeed it is clear that since the earlier-
formed body of magnates was habitually summoned for
consultative purposes, especially military, while the represen
tatives afterwards added were summoned only to grant
money, there existed from the outset a cause for separation.
Sundry influences conspired to produce it. Difference of
language, still to a considerable extent persisting and imped
ing joint debate, furnished a reason. Then there was the
effect of class-feeling, of which we have definite proof.
Though they were in the same assembly, the deputies from
boroughs " sat apart both from the barons and knights, who
REPRESENTATIVE BODIES. 439
disdained to mix with such mean personages ; " and probably
the deputies themselves, little at ease in presence of imposing
superiors, preferred sitting separately. Moreover, it was
customary for the several estates to submit to taxes in dif
ferent proportions ; and this tended to entail consultation
among the members of each by themselves. Finally, we read
that " after they [the deputies] had given their consent to
the taxes required of them, their business being then finished,
they separated, even though the Parliament still continued to
sit, and to canvass the national business." In which last fact
we are clearly shown that though aided by other causes,
unlikeness of duties was the essential cause which at length
produced a permanent separation between the representative
body and the consultative body.
Thus at first of little account, and growing in power only
because the free portion of the community occupied in pro
duction and distribution grew in mass and importance, so that
its petitions, treated with increasing respect and more fre
quently yielded to, began to originate legislation, the repre
sentative body came to be that part of the governing agency
which more and more expresses the sentiments and ideas of
industrialism. While the monarch and upper house are the
products of that ancient regime of compulsory cooperation
the spirit of which they still manifest, though in decreasing
degrees, the lower house is the product of that modern regime
of voluntary cooperation which is replacing it ; and in an
increasing degree, this lower house carries out the wishes of
people habituated to a daily life regulated by contract instead
of by status.
§ 503. To prevent misconception it must be remarked,
before summing up, that an account of representative bodies
which have been in modern days all at once created, is not
here called for. Colonial legislatures, consciously framed in
conformity with traditions brought from the mother-country,
illustrate the genesis of senatorial and representative bodies
440 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
in but a restricted sense : showing, as they do, how the
structures of parent societies reproduce themselves in derived
societies, so far as materials and circumstances allow; but
not showing how these structures were originated. Still less
need we notice those cases in which, after revolutions, peoples
who have lived under despotisms are led by imitation sud
denly to establish representative bodies. Here we are con
cerned only with the gradual evolution of such bodies.
Originally supreme, though passive, the third element in
the tri-une political structure, subjected more and more as
militant activity develops an appropriate organization, begins
to re-acquire power when war ceases to be chronic. Subordi
nation relaxes as fast as it becomes less imperative. Awe of
the ruler, local or general, and accompanying manifestations
of fealty, decrease ; and especially so where the prestige of
supernatural origin dies out. Where the life is rural the old
relations long survive in qualified forms ; but clans or feudal
groups clustered together in towns, mingled with numbers of
unattached immigrants, become in various ways less con
trollable ; while by their habits their members are educated
to increasing independence. The small industrial groups
thus growing up within a nation consolidated arid organized
by militancy, can but gradually diverge in nature from the
rest. For a long time they remain partially militant in their
structures and in their relations to other parts of the com
munity. At first chartered towns stand substantially on the
footing of fiefs, paying feudal dues and owing military
service. They develop, within themselves, unions, more or less
coercive in character, for mutual protection. They often
carry on wars with adjacent nobles and with one another.
They not uncommonly form leagues for joint defence. And
where the semi-militancy of towns is maintained, industrial
development and accompanying increase of popular power
are arrested.
But where circumstances have favoured manufacturing and
commercial activities, and growth of the population devoted
REPRESENTATIVE BODIES. 441
to them, this, as it becomes a large component of the society,
makes its influence felt. The primary obligation to render
money and service to the head of the State, often reluctantly
complied with, is resisted when the exactions are great ; and
resistance causes conciliatory measures. There comes asking
assent rather than resort to compulsion. If absence of
violent local antagonisms permits, then on occasions when
the political head, rousing anger by injustice, is also weakened
by defections, there comes cooperation with other classes
of oppressed subjects. Men originally delegated simply
that they may authorize imposed burdens, are enabled as
the power behind them increases, more and more firmly to
insist on conditions ; and the growing practice of yielding to
their petitions as a means to obtaining their aid, initiates the
practice of letting them share in legislation.
Finally, in virtue of the general law of organization that
difference of functions entails differentiation and division of
the parts performing them, there comes a separation. At
first summoned to the national assembly for purposes par
tially like and partially unlike those of its other members,
the elected members show a segregating tendency, which,
where the industrial portion of the community continues to
gain power, ends in the formation of a representative body
distinct from the original consultative body.
CHAPTER X.
MINISTEIES.
§ 504. Men chosen by the ruler to help him, we meet with
in early stages of social evolution — men whose positions and
duties are then vague and variable. At the outset there is
nothing to determine the selection of helpers save considera
tions of safety, or convenience, or liking. Hence we find
ministers of quite different origins.
Eelationship leads to the choice in some places and times;
as with the Bachassins, among whom the chief's brother
conveys his orders and sees them executed; as of old in
Japan, where the Emperor's son was prime minister and the
daimios had cadets of their families as counsellors; as in
ancient Egypt where " the principal officers of the Court or
administration appear to have been at the earliest period the
relatives " of the king. Though in some cases family -jealousy
excludes kinsmen from these places of authority, in other
cases family-feeling and trust, and the belief that the desire
for family-predominance will ensure loyalty, lead to the
employment of brothers, cousins, nephews, &c.
More general appears to be the unobtrusive growth of per->
sonal attendants, or household servants, into servants of State.
Those who are constantly in contact with the ruler have
opportunities of aiding or hindering intercourse with him,
of biassing him by their statements, and of helping or
impeding the execution of his commands; and they thus
gain power, and tend to become advising and executive
MINISTRIES. 443
agents. From the earliest times onwards we meet with
illustrations. In ancient Egypt —
" The office of fan-bearer to the king was a highly honourable post,
which none but the royal princes, or the sons of the first nobility, were
permitted to hold. These constituted a principal part of his staff ; and
in the field they either attended on the monarch to receive his orders,
or were despatched to have the command of a division."
In Assyria the attendants who thus rose to power were not
relatives, but were habitually eunuchs; and the like hap
pened in Persia. " In the later times, the eunuchs acquired
a vast political authority, and appear to have then filled all
the chief offices of state. They were the king's advisers in
the palace, and his generals in the field." Kindred illustra
tions are furnished by the West. Shown among the primitive
Germans, the tendency for officers of the king's household to
become political officers, was conspicuous in the Merovingian
period : the seneschal, the marshal, the chamberlain, grew
into public functionaries. Down to the later feudal period
in France, the public and household administrations of the
king were still undistinguished. So was it in old English
times. According to Kemble, the four great officers of the
Court and Household were the Hrsege Thegn (servant of the
wardrobe) ; the Steallere and Horsthegn (first, Master of the
Horse, then General of the Household Troops, then Constable
or Grand Marshal) ; the Discthegn (or thane of the table —
afterwards Seneschal) ; the Butler (perhaps Byrele or Scenca).
The like held under the conquering Normans ; and it holds in
a measure down to the present time.
Besides relatives and servants, friends are naturally in some
cases fixed on by the ruler to get him information, give him
advice, and carry out his orders. Among ancient examples the
Hebrews furnish one. .Remarking that in the small kingdoms
around Israel in earlier times, it was customary for the ruler
to have a single friend to aid him, Ewald points out that
under David, with a larger State and a more complex ad
ministration, " the different departments are necessarily more
subdivided, and new offices of ' friends ' or ministers of the
444 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
king assume a sort of independent importance." Like
needs produced kindred effects in the first days of the Eoman
empire. Duruy writes : —
" Augustus, who called himself a plain Roman citizen, could not, like a
king, have ministers, but only friends who aided him with their experi
ence. . . . The multitude of questions . . . induced him afterwards to
distribute the chief affairs regularly among his friends. . . . This council
was gradually organized."
And then in later days and other regions, we see that out of
the group known as " friends of the king " there are often
some, or there is one, in whom confidence is reposed and to
whom power is deputed. In Eussia the relation of Lefort to
Peter the Great, in Spain that of Albuquerque to Don Pedro,
and among ourselves that of Gaveston to Edward II.,
sufficiently illustrate the genesis of ministerial power out of
the power gained by personal friendship and consequent
trust. And then with instances of this kind are to be
joined instances showing how attachment between the sexes
comes into play. Such facts as that after Albuquerque fell,
all offices about the court were filled by relations of the
king's mistress ; that in France under Louis XV. " the only
visible government was that by women" from Mme. de
Prie to Mme. du Barry ; and that in Eussia during the reign
of Catherine II., her successive lovers acquired political
power, and became some of them prime ministers and
practically autocrats ; will serve adequately to recall a ten
dency habitually displayed.
Eegarded as able to help the ruler supernaturally as well
as naturally, the priest is apt to become his chosen ally and
agent. The Tahitians may be named as having a prime
minister who is also chief priest. In Africa, among the
Eggarahs (Inland Negroes), a priest " officiates as minister of
war." ' How political power of priests results from their sup
posed influence with the gods, is well shown by the case of
Mizteca (part of Mexico).
"The high-priests were highly respected by the caziques, who did
nothing without their advice ; they commanded armies, and ruled the
MINISTRIES. 445
state, reproved vice, and when there was no amendment, threatened
famine, plague, war, and the anger of the gods."
Other places in ancient America — Guatemala, Vera Paz, &c.,
furnish kindred facts ; as do historic peoples from the earliest
times downwards. In ancient Egypt the king's advisers
mostly belonged to the priestly caste. Under the Eoman
emperors ecclesiastics became ministers and secret counsellors.
In mediaeval days Dominican and Franciscan monks held the
highest political offices. And in later times the connexion
was shown by the ministerial power of cardinals, or, as in
Eussia, of patriarchs. This acquisition of leading political
functions by functionaries of the church, has in some cases
special causes in addition to the general cause. A royal
chaplain (uniting the character of personal attendant with
that of priest) stands in a relation to the king which almost
necessitates acquisition of great influence. Moreover, being
fitted by culture for secretarial work, he falls naturally into
certain State-duties ; as he did into those of chancellor among
ourselves in early days.
Eecognizing the fact that at the outset, these adminis
trative agents, whatever further characters they have, are
usually also soldiers, and are included in the primitive consul
tative body, of which they become specialized parts, we may
say of them generally, that they are relatives, friends, attend
ants, priests, brought into close relations with the ruler, out
of whom he is obliged by stress of business to choose assist
ants ; and that at first vague and irregular, their appointments
and functions gradually acquire definiteness.
§ 505. Amid much that is too indefinite for generalization,
a few tolerably constant traits of ministers, and traits of
ministries, may be briefly indicated.
That a trusted agent commonly acquires power over his
principal, is a fact everywhere observable. Even in a gen
tleman's household a head servant of long standing not
unfrequently gains such influence, that his master is in
446 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
various matters guided by him — almost controlled by him.
With chief officers of State it has often been the same ; and
especially where hereditary succession is well established.
A ruler who, young, or idle, or pleasure-seeking, performs his
duties by proxy, or who, through personal liking or entire
trust, is led to transfer his authority, presently becomes so
ill informed concerning affairs, or so unused to modes of pro
cedure, as to be almost powerless in the hands of his agent.
Where hereditary succession pervades the society and fixes
its organization, there is sometimes shown a tendency to
inheritance, not of the rulership only, but also of these
offices which grow into deputy-rulerships. Under the Nor
man dukes before the Conquest, the places of seneschal,
cup-bearer, constable, and chamberlain, were " hereditary
grand serjeanties." In England in Henry II.'s time, succes
sion to the posts of high-steward, constable, chamberlain, and
butler, followed from father to son in the houses of Leicester,
Miles, Vere, and Albini. So was it with the Scotch in King
David's reign : " the offices of great steward and high constable
had become hereditary in the families of Stewart and De
Morevil." And then in Japan the principle of inheritance of
ministerial position had so established itself as to insure
ministerial supremacy. In these cases there come
into play influences and methods like those which conduce to
hereditary kingship. When, as during the later feudal period
in France, we see efforts made to fix in certain lines of
descent, the chief offices of State (efforts which, in that case,
sometimes succeeded and sometimes failed), we are shown
that ministers use the facilities which their places give them,
to establish succession to these places in their own families,
in the same way that early kings do. Just as, during the
stage of elective kingship, the king is apt to use the advan
tages derived from his position to secure the throne for his
son, by getting him chosen during his own life, and thus to
initiate hereditary succession ; so the minister who has been
allowed to acquire great power, is prompted to employ it for
MINISTRIES. 447
the purpose of establishing a monopoly of his office among
his own descendants. Generally his desire is effectually
antagonized by that of the ruler; but where, as in Japan,
seclusion of the ruler impedes his hold on affairs, this desire
of the minister takes effect.
Since there ever tend to arise these struggles between a
king and one or more of those who serve him — since his efforts
to maintain his authority are sometimes so far defeated that
he is obliged to accept assistants who are hereditary ; there
results a jealousy of thos° whose interests are at variance
with his own, and aii endeavour to protect himself by ex
cluding them from office. There comes a motive for choosing
as ministers men who, having no children, cannot found
houses which, growing powerful, may compete for supremacy ;
and hence in certain times the preference for celibate priests.
Or, from allied motives, men neither clerical nor military are
selected ; as in France, where in the 15th and 17th centuries,
members of the bourgeois class came to be preferred. A policy
like that shown in the befriending of towns as a set-off against
feudal chiefs, prompted the official employment of citizens
instead of nobles. Under other conditions, again, there is a
jealousy of ecclesiastics and an exclusion of them from power.
For generations before the time of Peter the Great, the head
of the church in Russia was " considered the second person in
the empire ; he was consulted on all State-affairs, until at
length, their [his] spiritual pride outrunning all decorum,
venturing upon, and even attempting to control the sovereign
power, it was resolved by Peter the Great to abolish the
patriarchate altogether." Between Louis XIV. and the Pope,
there was a conflict for supremacy over the French church ;
and on more occasions than one, certain of the clergy
encouraged "the absolutist pretensions of the Eoman Pontiffs :"
the result being that such prelates as held office were those
who subordinated clerical to political aims, and that by
Louis XIV., after 1661, " no churchman was allowed to touch
the great engine of State-government " Among ourselves may
87
448 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
be traced, if less clearly, the working of kindred tendencies,
During the loth century, " clergymen were secretaries of
government, the privy seals, cabinet councillors, treasurers
of the crown, ambassadors, commissioners to open parlia
ment, and to Scotland; presidents of the king's council,
supervisors of the royal works, chancellors, keepers of the
records, the masters of the rolls, &c. ;" but with antagonism to
the Church came partial, and in later days complete, disappear
ance of the clerical element from the administration. Under
Henry VIII. the King's secretary, and afterwards the chan
cellor, ceased to be ecclesiastics ; while of the council of six
teen executors appointed to govern during the minority of
his son, three only were in holy orders. And though, during
a subsequent temporary revival of papal influence, there was
a re-acquirement of ministerial position by priests, they after
wards again ceased to be chosen.
Whether a ruler is able to prevent high offices of State
from being held by men whose ambitions and interests he
fears, depends, however, upon his acquirement of adequate
predominance. A class which, being powerful, is excluded
as therefore dangerous, being still more powerful, cannot be
excluded; and is apt either to monopolize administrative
functions or practically to dictate the choice of ministers. In
ancient Egypt, where the priesthood was pre-eminent in
influence, the administration was chiefly officered by its
members, with the result that at one time there was usurpa
tion of the kingship by priests ; and the days during which
the Catholic church was most powerful throughout Europe,
were the clays during which high political posts were very
generally held by prelates. In other cases supremacy of
the military class is shown ; as in Japan, where soldiers have
habitually been the ministers and practically usurpers ; as in
feudal England, when Henry III. was obliged by the barons
to accept Hugh Le Despenser as chief justiciary, and other
nominees as officers of his household ; or as when, in the
East, down to our own time, changes of ministry are insisted
MINISTRIES. 449
on by the soldiery. Naturally in respect of these administra
tive offices, as in respect of all other places of power, there
arises a conflict between the chiefs of the warrior class, who
are the agents of the terrestrial ruler, and the chiefs of the
clerical class, who profess to be agents of the celestial ruler ;
and the predominance of the one or the other class, is in
many cases implied by the extent to which it fills the chief
offices of State.
Such facts show us that where there has not yet been
established any regular process for making the chief advisers
and agents of the ruler into authorized exponents of public
opinion, there nevertheless occurs an irregular process by
which some congruity is maintained between the actions of
these deputy rulers and the will of the community ; or, at
any rate, the will of that part which can express its will.
§ 506. Were elaboration desirable, and collection of the
needful data less difficult, a good deal might here be added
respecting the development of ministries.
Of course it could, in multitudinous cases, be shown
how, beginning as simple, they become compound — the soli
tary assistant to the chief, helping him in all ways, develop
ing into the numerous great officers of the king, dividing
among them duties which have become extensive and in
volved. Along with this differentiation of a ministry might
also be traced the integration of it that takes place under
certain conditions : the observable change being from a state
in which the departmental officers separately take from the
ruler their instructions, to a state in which they form an
incorporated body. There might be pursued an inquiry
respecting the conditions under which this incorporated body
gains power and accompanying responsibility ; with the pro
bable result of showing that development of an active
executive council, and accompanying reduction of the original
executive head to an automatic state, characterizes that re
presentative form of government proper to the industrial
450 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
type. But while results neither definite nor important arc
likely to be reached, the reaching of such as are promised
would necessitate investigation at once tedious and unsatis
factory.
For such ends as are here in view, it suffices to recognize
the general facts above set forth. As the political head is at
first but a slightly-distinguished member of the group — now
a chief whose private life and resources are like those of any
other warrior, now a patriarch or a feudal lord who, becoming
predominant over other patriarchs or other feudal lords, at first
lives like them on revenues derived from private possessions
— so the assistants of the political head take their rise from
the personal connexions, friends, servants, around him : they
are those who stand to him in private relations of blood, or
liking, or service. With the extension of territory, the in
crease of affairs, and the growth of classes having special
interests, there come into play influences which differentiate
some of those who surround the ruler into public functionaries,
distinguished from members of his family and his household.
And these influences, joined with special circumstances, de
termine the kinds of public men who come into power.
Where the absoluteness of the political head is little or not
at all restrained, he makes arbitrary choice irrespective of
rank, occupation, or origin. If, being predominant, there are
nevertheless classes of whom he is jealous, exclusion of these
becomes his policy ; while if his predominance is inadequate,
representatives of such classes are forced into office. And
this foreshadows the system under which, along with decline
of monarchical power, there grows up an incorporated body
of ministers having for its recognized function to execute
the public will
CHAPTER XL
LOCAL GOVERNING AGENCIES.
§ 507. This title is needed because tlie classes of facts to
be here dealt with, cover a wider area than those comprehended
under the title " Local Governments."
We have to deal with two kinds of appliances for control,
originally one but gradually becoming distinguished. Alike
among peoples characterized by the reckoning of kinship
through females, and among peoples characterized by descent
of property and power through males, the regulative system
based on blood-relationship is liable to be involved with, and
subordinated by, a regulative system originating from military
leadership. Authority established by triumph in war, nol
unfrequently comes into conflict with authority derived from
the law of succession, when this has become partially settled,
and initiates a differentiation of political headship from family
headship. We have seen that, from primitive stages upwards,
the principle of efficiency and the principle of inheritance are
both at work in determining men's social positions; and where,
as happens in many cases, a war-chief is appointed when the
occasion arises, notwithstanding the existence of a chief of
acknowledged legitimacy, there is a tendency for transmitted
power to be over -ridden by power derived from capacity.
From the beginning, then, there is apt to grow up a species of
government distinct from family-government ; and the apti
tude takes effect where many family-groups, becoming united,
88
452 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
carry on militant activities. The growth of the family into
the gens, of the gens into the phratry, of the phratry into the
tribe, implies the multiplication of groups more and more
remotely akin, and less and less easily subordinated by the
head of some nominally-leading group ; and when local aggre
gation brings interfusion of tribes which, though of the sarno
stock, have lost their common genealogy, the rise of some
headship other than the headships of family-groups becomes
imminent. Though such political headship, passing through
the elective stage, often becomes itself inheritable after the
same manner as the original family-headships, yet it consti
tutes a new kind of headship.
Of the local governing agencies to which family-headships
and political headships give origin, as groups become com
pounded and re-compounded, we will consider first the poli
tical, as being most directly related to the central governing
agencies hitherto dealt with.
§ 503. According to the relative powers of conqueror and
conquered, war establishes various degrees of subordination.
Here the payment of tribute and occasional expression of
homage, interfere but little with political independence ; and
there political independence is almost or quite lost. Generally,
however, at the outset the victor either finds it necessary to
respect the substantial autonomies of the vanquished societies,
or finds it his best policy to do this. Hence, before inte
gration has proceeded far, local governments are usually
nothing more than those governments of the parts which
existed before they were united into a whole.
We find instances of undecided subordination everywhere,
Tn Tahiti " the actual influence of the king over the haughty
and despotic district chieftains, was neither powerful nor
permanent." Of our own political organization in old English
times Kemble writes : — " the whole executive government
may be considered as a great aristocratic association, of which
the ealdormen were the constituent earls, and the king little
LOCAL GOVERNING AGENCIES. 453
more than president." Similarly during early feudal times ;
as, for example, in France. " Under the first Capetians, we
find scarcely any general act of legislation. . . . Everything
was local, and all the possessors of fiefs first, and afterwards
all the great suzerains, possessed the legislative power within
theii domains." This is the kind of relation habitually seen
durbg the initial stages jf those clustered groups in which
one group has acquired power over the rest.
In cases where the successful invader, external to the cluster
instead of internal, is powerful enough completely to subju
gate all the groups, it still happens that the pre-existing local
organizations commonly survive. Ancient American states
yield examples. " When the kings of Mexico, Tezcuco, nnd
Tacuba conquered a province, they used to maintain in their
authority all the natural chiefs, the highest as well as the
lower ones." Concerning certain rulers of Chibcha com
munities, who became subject to Bogota, we read that the
Zipa subdued them, but left them their jurisdiction and left
the succession to the caziqueship in their families. And as
was pointed out under another head, the victorious Yncas
left outstanding the political headships and administrations of
the many small societies they consolidated. Such is, in fact,
the most convenient policy. As is remarked by Sir Henry
Maine, " certain institutions of a primitive people, their cor
porations and village-communities, will always be preserved
by a suzerain-state governing them, on account of the facilities
which they afford to civil and fiscal administration;" and the
like may be said of the larger regulative structures. Indeed
the difficulty of suddenly replacing an old local organization
by an entirely new one, is so great that almost of necessity the
old one is in large measure retained.
The autonomies of local governments, thus sometimes
scarcely at all interfered with and in other cases but partially
suppressed, manifest themselves in various ways. The
original independence of groups continues to be shown
by the right of private war between them. They retain theii
454 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
local gods, their ecclesiastical organizations, their religious
festivals. And in time of general war the contingents they
•severally furnish remain separate. Egyptian nomes, Greek
cities, feudal lordships, yield illustrations.
§ 509. The gradual disappearance of local autonomies h
a usual outcome of the struggle between the governments of
the paits, which try to retain their powers, and the central
government, which tries to diminish their powers.
In proportion as his hands are strengthened, chiefly by
successful wars, the major political head increases his
restraints over the minor political heads ; first by stopping
private wars among them, then by interfering as arbitrator,
then by acquiring an appellate jurisdiction. Where the local
rulers have been impoverished by their struggles with one
another, or by futile attempts to recover their independence,
or by drafts made on their resources for external wars — where,
also, followers of the central ruler have grown into a new order
of nobles, with gifts of conquered or usurped lands as rewards
for services ; the way is prepared for administrative agencies
centrally appointed. Thus in France, when the monarch
became dominant, the seigneurs were gradually deprived of
legislative authority. Royal confirmation became requisite
to make signorial acts valid; and the crown acquired the
exclusive right of granting charters, the exclusive right of
ennobling, the exclusive right of coining. Then with decline
in the power of the original local rulers came deputies of the
king overlooking them : provincial governors holding office at
the king's pleasure were nominated. In subsequent periods
grew up the administration of intendants and their sub-dele
gates, acting as agents of the crown ; and whatever small local
powers remained were exercised under central supervision.
English history at various stages yields kindred illustrations.
When Mercia was formed out of petty kingdoms, the local
kings became ealdormen ; and a like change took place
afterwards on a larger scale. " From the time of Ecyberht
LOCAL GOVERNING AGENCIES. 455
onwards there is a marked distinction between the King and
the Ealdorman. The King is a sovereign, the Ealdormaii
is only a magistrate." Just noting that under Cnut, eal-
dormen became subordinated by the appointment of earls,
and again that under William I. earldoms were filled up afresh,
we observe that after the Wars of the Roses had weak-
oned them, the hereditary nobles had their local powers inter
fered with by those of centrally-appointed lords-lieutenant.
Not only provincial governing agencies of a personal kind
come to be thus subordinated as the integration furthered by
war progresses, but also those of a popular kind. The old
English Scirgerefa, who presided over the Sciregemot, was at
first elective, but was afterwards nominated by the king.
Under a later regime there occurred a kindred change:
" 9 Edward II. abolished the popular right to election" to the
office of sheriff'. And similarly, "from the beginning of
Edward IIL's reign, the appointment of conservators " of the
peace, who were originally elected, "was vested in the crown/'
" and their title changed to that of justices."
With sufficient distinctness such facts show us that, rapidly
where a cluster of small societies is subjugated by an
invader, and slowly where one among them acquires an
established supremacy, the local rulers lose their directive
powers and become executive agents only ; discharging what
ever duties they retain as the servants of newer local agents.
In the course of political integration, the original governing
centres of the component parts become relatively automatic
in theii functions.
§ 510. A further truth to be noted is that there habitually
exists a kinship in structure between the general government
and the local governments. Several causes conspire to pro
duce this kinship.
Where one of a cluster of groups has acquired power
over the rest, either directly by the victories of its ruler
over them, or indirectly by his successful leadership oi
456 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
the confederation in war, this kinship becomes a matter of
course. For under such conditions the general government
is but a development of that which was previously one of
the local governments. We have a familiar illustration
furnished by old English times in the likeness between the
hundred-moot (a small local governing assembly), the
shire-moot (constituted in an analogous way, but having
military, judicial, and fiscal duties of a wider kind, and
headed by a chief originally elected), and the national
witanagemot (containing originally the same class-elements,
though in different proportions, headed by a king, also at first
elected, and discharging like functions on a larger scale).
This similarity recurs under another phase. Sir Henry Maine
says :—
" It has often, indeed, been noticed that a Feudal Monarchy was an
exact counterpart of a Feudal Manor, but the reason of the correspon
dence is only now beginning to dawn upon us, which is, that both of
them were in their origin bodies of assumed kinsmen settled on land
and nn lergoing the same transmutation of ideas through the fact of
set! lenient."
Of France in the early feudal period, Maury says, "the
court of every great feudatory was the image, of course
slightly reduced, of that of the king ;" and the facts he names
curiously show that locally, as generally, there was a develop
ment of servants into ministerial officers. Kindred evidence
comes from other parts of the world — Japan, several African
States, sundry Polynesian islands, ancient Mexico, Mediaeval
India, &c. ; where forms of society essentially similar to those
of the feudal system exist or have existed.
Where the local autonomy has been almost or quite
destroyed, as by a powerful invading race bringing with it
another type of organization, we still see the same thing ; for
its tendency is to modify the institutions locally as it
modifies them generally, From early times eastern king
doms have shown us this ; as instance the provincial rulers,
or satraps, of the Persians. " While . . . they remained in
office they were despotic — they represented the Great King,
LOCAL GOVERNING AGENCIES. 457
and were clothed with a portion of his majesty, . . . They
wielded the power of life and death." And down to the
present day this union of central chief- despot with local sub-
despots survives ; as is implied by Bawlinson's remark that
these ancient satraps had " that full and complete authority
which is possessed by Turkish pashas and modern Persian
khans or beys — an authority practically uncontrolled." Other
ancient societies of quite other types displayed this tendency
to assimilate the structures of the incorporated parts to thafc
of the incorporating whole. Grecian history shows us that
oligarchic Sparta sought to propagate oligarchy as a form of
government in dependent territories, while democratic Athens
propagated the democratic form. And, similarly, where
Eome conquered and colonized, there followed the Eoman
municipal system.
This last instance reminds us that as the character of the
general government changes, the character of the local
government changes too. In the Roman empire that progress
towards a more concentrated form of rule which con
tinued militancy brought, spread from centre to periphery.
" Under the Republic every town had, like Rome, a popular
assembly which was sovereign for making the law and ' creat
ing' magistrates;" but with the change towards oligarchic
and personal rule in Rome, popular power in the provinces
decreased : " the municipal organization, from being demo
cratic, became aristocratic." In France, as monarchical power
approached absoluteness, similar changes were effected in
another way. The government seized on municipal offices,
* erecting them into hereditary offices, and . . . selling them
at the highest price : . . . a permanent mayor and assessors
were imposed upon all the municipalities of the kingdom, which
ceased to be elective ; " and then these magistrates began to
assume royal airs — spoke of the sanctity of their magistracy,
the veneration of the people, &c. Our own history interest
ingly shows simultaneous movements now towards freer, and
now towards less free, forms, locally and generally. When,
458 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
under King John, the central government was liberalized,
towns acquired the power to elect their own magistrates.
Conversely when, at the Restoration, monarchical powei
increased, there was a framing of the " municipalities on a
more oligarchical model." And then comes the familiar case
of the kindred liberalizations of the central government
and the local governments which have occurred in our own
time.
§ 511. From those local governing agencies which have
acquired a political character, we turn now to those which
have retained the primitive family character. Though with
the massing of groups, political organization and rule become
separate from, and predominant over, family-organization
and rule, locally as well as generally, yet family- organization
and rule do not disappear ; but in some cases retaining their
orginal nature, in some cases give origin to other local
organizations of a governmental kind. Let us first note how
wide-spread is the presence of the family-cluster, considered
as a component of the political society.
Among the uncivilized Bedouins we see it existing sepa
rately : "every large family with its relations constituting a
small tribe by itself." But, says Palgrave, " though the clan
and the family form the basis and are the ultimate expression
of the civilized Arab society, they do not, as is the case
among the Bedouins, sum it up altogether." That is, political
union has left outstanding the family-organization, but has
added something to it. And it was thus with Semitic societies
of early days, as those of the Hebrews. Everywhere it has
been thus with the Ayrans.
4 The [Irish] Sept is f body of kinsmen whose progenitor is no longer
living, "but whose descent from him is a reality. . . . An association of
tins sort is well known to the law of India as the Joint Undivided
Family. . . . The family thus formed by the continuance of several
generations in union, is identical in outline with a group very familiar
to the students of the older Roman law — the Agnatic Kindred."
Not only where descent in the male line has been established,
LOCAL GOVERNING AGENCIES. 459
but also where the system of descent through females con
tinues, this development of the family into gens, phratry,
and tribe, is found. It was so with such ancient American
peoples, as those of Yucatan, where, within each town, tribal
divisions were maintained ; and, according to Mr. Morgan
and Major Powell, it is still so with such American tribes as
the Iroquois and the Wyandottes.
After its inclusion in a political aggregate, as before its in
clusion, the family-group evolves a government <^<m-political
in nature. According to the type of race and the system
of descent, this family-government may be, as among ancient
Semites and Ayrans, an unqualified patriarchal despotism ; or
it may be, as among the Hindoos at present, a personal rule
arising by selection of a head from the leading family of the
group (a selection usually falling on the eldest) ; or it may
be, as in American tribes like those mentioned, the govern
ment of an elected council of the gens, which elects its chief.
That is to say, the triune structure which tends to arise in
any incorporated assembly, is traceable in the compound
family-group, as in the political group : the respective com
ponents of it being variously developed according to the
nature of the people and the conditions.
The government of each aggregate of kinsmen repeats,
on a small scale, functions like those of the government of
the political aggregate. As the entire society revenges itself
on other such societies for injury to its members, so does the
family- cluster revenge itself on other family-clusters included
in the same society. This fact is too familiar to need illus
tration! but it may be pointed out that even now, in parts of
Europe where the family-organization survives, the family
vendettas persist. " L'Albanais vous dira froidement . . .
Akeni-Dgiak? avez-vous du sang h venger dans votre
famille;" and then, asking the name of your tribe, he puts his
hand on his pistol. With this obligation to take vengeance
goes, of course, reciprocal responsibility. The family in all
its branches is liable as a whole, and in each part, for tho
460 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
injuries done by its members to members of other families ;
just as the entire society is held liable by other entire
societies. This responsibility holds not alone for lives taken
by members of the family-group, but also for damages they
do to property, and for pecuniary claims.
|: Dans les districts Albanais libres, les dettes sont contractces a terme.
En cas de non-paiement, on a recours aux chefs de la tribu du
dubiteur, et si ceux-ci refusent de faire droit, on arrete le premier
venu qui appartient a cette tribu, et on 1'accable de mauvais traitements
jusqu'a CG qu'il s'entende avec le veritable debiteur, ou qu'il paie lui-
meme ses dettes, risque a se pouvoir ensuite devant les anciens de sa
tribu ou de poursuivre. par les armes celui qui lui a valu ce dommage."
And of the old English msegth we read that " if any one was
imprisoned for theft, witchcraft, &c., his kindred must pay
the fine . . . and must become surety for his good conduct
on his release."
While, within the political aggregate, each compound
family-group thus stood towards other such included groups
in quasi-political relations, its government exercised internal
control. In the gens as constituted among the American
peoples above named, there is administration of affairs by its
council. The gentile divisions among historic peoples were
ruled by their patriarchs ; as are still those of the Hindoos by
their chosen elders. And then besides this judicial organi
zation within the assemblage of kindred, there is the religious
organization, arising from worship of a common ancestor,
which entails periodic joint observances.
Thus the evidence shows us that while the massing
together of groups by war, has, for its concomitant, develop
ment of a political organization which dominates over the
organizations of communities of kindred, yet these com
munities of kindred long survive, and partially retain their
autonomies and their constitutions.
§ 512, Social progress, however, transforms them in sundry
ways — differentiating them into groups which gradually lose
their family-characters. One cause is change from the wander-
LOCAL GOVERNING AGENCIES. 461
ing life to the settled life, with the implied establishment of
definite relations to the land, and the resulting multipli
cation and interfusion.
To show that this process and its consequences aro
general, I may name the calpulli of the ancient Mexicans,
which " means a district inhabited by a family ... of ancient
origin ;" whose members hold estates which " belong not to
each inhabitant, but to the calpulli ; " who have chiefs chosen
out of the tribe; and who " meet for dealing with the com
mon interests, and regulating the apportionment of taxes, and
also what concerns the festivals." And then I may name
as being remote in place, time, and race, the still-existing
Russian mir, or village-commune ; which is constituted by
descendants of the same family-group of nomads who became
settled ; which is " a judicial corporation . . . proprietor of
the soil, of which individual members have but the usufruct
or temporary enjoyment;" which is governed by " the heads
of families, assembled in council under the presidency of the
starosta or mayor, whom they have elected." Just noting these
allied examples, we may deal more especially with the Teu
tonic mark, which was " formed by a primitive settlement of
a family or kindred," when, as said by Cresar of the Suevi,
the land was divided among " gentes et cognationes homi-
num.'' In the words of Kemble, marks were —
" Great family-unions, comprising households of various degrees of
wealth, rank, and authority; some in direct descent from the common
ancestors, 01 from the hero of the particular tribe ; others, more dis
tantly connected . . . ; some, admitted into communion by marriage,
others by adoption, others by emancipation ; but all recognizing a
brotherhood, a kinsmanship or sibsceuft ; all standing together as one
unit in respect of other similar communities ; all governed by the same
judges and led by the same captains ; all sharing in the same religious
rites ; and all known to themselves and to their neighbours by one
general name."
To which add that, in common with family-groups as already
described, the cluster of kindred constituting the mark had,
like both smaller and larger clusters, a joint obligation to
POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
defend and avenge its members, and a joint responsibility for
their actions.
And now we are prepared for observing sundry influences
•which conspire to change the grouping of kindred into poli
tical grouping, locally as well as generally. In the first place,
there is that admission of strangers into the family, gens, or
tribe, which we have before recognized as a normal process,
from savage life upwards. Livingstone, remarking of the
Bakwains that " the government is patriarchal," describes
each chief man as having his hut encircled by the huts of his
•wives, relatives, and dependents, forming a kotla : " a poor
man attaches himself to the kotla of a rich one and is con
sidered a child of the latter." Here we see being done
informally, that which was formally done in the Roman
household and the Teutonic mark. In proportion as the
adopted strangers increase, and in proportion also as the
cluster becomes diluted by incorporating with itself emanci
pated dependents, the links among its members become
weakened and its character altered. In the second place,
when, by concentration and multiplication, different clusters
of kindred placed side by side, become interspersed, and there
ceases to be a direct connexion between locality and kinship,
the family or gentile bonds are further weakened. And then
there eventually results, both for military and fiscal pur
poses, the need for a grouping based on locality instead of on
relationship. An early illustration is furnished by the
Kleisthenian revolution in Attica, which made a division of
the territory into denies, replacing for public purposes tribal
divisions by topographical divisions, the inhabitants of each
of which had local administrative powers and public respon
sibilities.
We are here brought to the vexed question about the origin
of ty things and hundreds. It was pointed out that the
ancient Peruvians had civil as well as military divisions
into tens and hundreds, with their respective officers. In
China, where there is pushed to an extreme the principle of
LOCAL GOVERNING AGENCIES. 463
making groups responsible for their members, the clan-divi
sions are not acknowledged by the government, but only the
tythings and hundreds : the implication being that these last
were results of political organization as distinguished from
family-organization. In parts of Japan, too, " there is a sort of
subordinate system of wards, and heads of tens and hundreds,
in the Otonos of towns and villages, severally and collectively
responsible for each other's good conduct." We have seen
that in Rome, the groupings into hundreds and tens, civil
as well as military, became political substitutes for the
gentile groupings. Under the Frankish law, " the tything-
man is Dccanus, the hundred-man Centenarius ; " and what
ever may have been their indigenous names, divisions into
tens and hundreds appear to have had (judging from the state
ments of Tacitus) an independent origin among the Germanic
races.
And now remembering that these hundreds and tythings,
formed within the marks or other large divisions, still
answered in considerable degrees to groups based on kinship
(since the heads of families of which they were constituted as
local groups, were ordinarily closer akin to one another
than to the heads of families similarly grouped in other parts
of the mark), we go on to observe that there survived in
them, or were re-developed in them, the family-organization,
rights, and obligations. I do not mean merely that by
their hundred-moots, &c., they had their internal administra
tions ; but I mean chiefly that they became groups which
had towards other groups the same joint claims and duties
which family-groups had. Responsibility for its members,
previously attaching exclusively to the cluster of kindied
ii respective of locality, was in a large measure transferred to
the local cluster formed but partially of kindred. For this
transfer of responsibility an obvious cause arose as the
gentes and tribes spread and became mingled. "While the
family-community was small and closely aggregated, an offence
committed by one of its members against another such com -
464 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
munity could usually be brought home to it bodily, if nofc
to the sinning member; and as a whole it had to take
the consequences. But when the family- community, multi
plying, began to occupy a wide area, and also became inter
fused with other family-communities, the transgressor, while
often traceable to some one locality within the area, was
often not identifiable as of this or that kindred; and the con
sequences of his act, when they could not be visited on his
family, which was not known, were apt to be visited on the
inhabitants of the locality, who' were known. Hence the
genesis of a system of suretyship which is so ancient and
so widespread. Here are illustrations : —
"This then is my will, that every man be in surety, both within the
towns and without the towns." — Eadg. ii. Supp. § 3.
" And we will that every freeman be brought into a hundred and into
a tithing, who desires to be entitled to lad or wer, in case any one should
slay him after he have reached the age of xii years : or let him not other
wise be entitled to any free rights, be he householder, be he follower."—
Cnut, ii. § xx.
"... in all the vills throughout the kingdom, all men are bound to be
in a guarantee by tens, so that if one of the ten men offend, the other
nine may hold him to right." — Edw. Conf., xx.
Speaking generally of this system of mutual guarantee, as
exhibited among the Eussians, as well as among the Franks,
Koutorga says —
" Tout membre de la societe devait entrer dans une decanie, laquellc
avait pour mission la defence et la garantie de tous en general et de
chacun en particulier ; c'est-a-dire que la decanie devait venger le citoy en
qui lui appartenait et exiger le wehrgeld, s'il avait ete tue ; mais en
meme temps elle se portait caution pour tous les seins."
In brief, then, this form of local governing agency,
developing out of, and partially replacing, the primitive
family-form, was a natural concomitant of the multiplication
and mixture resulting from a settled life.
§ 513. There remains to be dealt with an allied kind of local
governing agency — a kind which, appearing to have been
once identical with the last, eventually diverged from it
LOCAL GOVERNING AGENCIES. 465
Kemble concludes that the word " gegyldan " means
u those who mutually pay for one another . . . the associates
of the tithing and the hundred ; " and how the two were
originally connected, we are shown by the statement that as
late as the 10th century in London, the citizens were united
into frithgylds, " or associations for the maintenance of the
peace, each consisting of ten men ; while ten such gylds
were gathered into a hundred." Prof. Stubbs writes : —
"The collective responsibility for producing an offender, which had
lain originally on the msegth or kindred of the accused, was gradually
devolved on the voluntary association of the guild ; and the guild super
seded by the local responsibility of the tithing."
Here we have to ask whether there are not grounds for con
cluding that this transfer of responsibility originally took
place through development of the family-cluster into the
gild, in consequence of the gradual loss of the family-cha
racter by incorporation of unrelated members. That we do
not get evidence of this in written records, is probably due
to the fact that the earlier stages of the change took place
before records were common. But we shall see reasons foi
believing in such earlier stages if we take into account facts
furnished by extinct societies and societies less developed
than those of Europe.
Of the skilled arts among the Peruvians, Prescott re
marks : — " these occupations, like every other calling and
office in Peru, always descended from father to son ; " and
Clavigero says of the Mexicans " that they perpetuated the
arts in families to the advantage of the State : " the reason
Gomara gives why " the poor taught their sons their own
trades/' being that " they could do so without expense " — a
reason of general application. Heeren's researches into
ancieni, Egyptian usages, have led him to accept the state
ment of early historians, that " the son was bound to carry
on the trade of his father and that alone ; " and he cites a
papyrus referring to an institution naturally connected with
this usage — " the guild or company of curriers or leather-
466 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
dressers." Then of the Greeks, Hermann tell us that various
arts and professions were — •
" peculiar to certain families, whose claims to an exclusive exercise of
them generally ascended to a fabulous origin. We moreover find
* pupil and son ' for many successive generations designated by the same
term ; and closely connected with the exclusiveness and monopoly of
many professions, is the little respect in which they were, in some
instances, held by the rest of the people : a circumstance which Greek
authors themselves compare with the prejudice of caste prevalent among
other nations."
China, as at present existing, yields evidence : —
" The popular associations in cities and towns are chiefly based upon a
community of interests, resulting either from a similarity of occupation,
when the leading persons of the same calling form themselves into
guilds, or from the municipal regulations requiring the householders
living in the same street to unite to maintain a police, and keep the
peace of their division. Each guild has an assembly-hall, where its
members meet to hold the festival of their patron saint."
And, as I learn from the Japanese minister, a kindred state of
things once existed in Japan. Children habitually followed
the occupations of their parents; in course of generations
there resulted clusters of relatives engaged in the same trade ;
and these clusters developed regulative arrangements within
themselves. Whether the fact that in Japan, as in the East
generally, the clustering of traders of one kind in the same
street, arises from the original clustering of the similarly-
occupied kindred, I find no evidence; but since, in early
times, mutual protection of the members of a trading kindred,
as of other kindred, was needful, this seems probable. Fur
ther evidence of like meaning may be disentangled from the
involved phenomena of caste in India. In No. CXLII of
the Calcutta Review, in an interesting essay by Jogendra
Ohandra Ghosh, caste is regarded as " a natural development
of the Indian village-communities ; " as " distinguished not
only by the autonomy of each guild," " but by the mutual
relations between these autonomous guilds ; " and as being
eo internally organized " that caste government does not
'ecoguize the finding or the verdict of any court other than
LOCAL GOVERNING AGENCIES. 467
what forms part of itself." In answer to my inquiries, the
writer of this essay has given me a mass of detailed informa
tion, from which I extract the following : —
" A Hindoo joint family signifies (1) that the members all mess together ;
(2) and live in the same house ; (3) that the male members and un
married girls are descended from a common ancestor ; and (4) that the
male members put their incomes together. . . . The integral character
of the family is destroyed when the joint mess and common purse cease
to exist. However, the branches thus disunited continue to observe
certain close relations as gnatis up to some seven or fourteen generations
from the common ancestor. Beyond that limit they are said to bo
merely of the same gotra"
Passing over the detailed constitution of a caste as consist
ing of many such gotras, and of the groups produced by their
intermarriages under restrictions of exogamy of the gotras
and endogamy of the caste — passing over the feasts, sacrificial
and other, held among members of the joint family when
their groups have separated ; I turn to the facts of chief
significance. Though, under English rule, inheritance of
occupation is no longer so rigorous, yet —
" the principle is universally recognized that every caste is bound to
follow a particular occupation and no other. . . . The partition of the
land, or the house as well, is governed by the law of equal succession ;
and as fresh branches set up new houses, they are found all clustered
together, with the smallest space between them for roadway. . . . But
when, as in bazaars, men take up houses for commercial purposes, the
clustering is governed either by family and caste-relations, or by
common avocations [which imply some caste-kinship] and facility of
finding customers."
In which facts we may see pretty clearly that were there
none of the complications consequent on the intermarriage
regulations, there would simply result groups united by
accupation as well as by ancestry, clustering together, and
Having their internal governments.
Be turning from consideration of these facts supplied by
other societies, let us now observe how numerous are the
reasoiis for concluding that the gild, familiar to us as a
union of similarly-occupied workers, was originally a union
of kindred. In the primitive compound family there was
89
408 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
worship of the common ancestor ; and the periodic sacrificial
feasts were occasions on which all the descendants assembled.
Describing the origin of gilds, Thierry writes : —
" Dans 1'ancienne Scandinavie, ceux qui se reunissaient aux e"poques
solennelles pour sacrifier ensemble terminaient la ceremonie par un
festin religieux. Assis autour du feu et de la chaudiere du sacrifice, ils
buvaient a la ronde et vidaient successivement trois cornes remplies de
biere, 1'une pour les dieux, 1'autre pour les braves du vieux temps, et la
troisieme pour les parents et les amis dont les tombes, marquees par des
monticules de gazon, se voyaient §a et la dans la plaine ; on appelait
celle-ci la coupe de Tamitie. Le nom d'amitie (minne) se donnait aussi
quelquefois a la reunion de ceux qui offraient en commun le sacrifice,
et, d'ordinaire, cette reunion 6tait appelee ghilde"
And Brentano, giving a similar account, says — " ' Gild ' meant
originally the sacrificial meal made up of the common contri
butions ; then a sacrificial banquet in general ; and lastly a
society." Here we find a parallelism with the observances of
the Hindoo joint-family, consisting of clusters of relatives
carrying on the same occupation, who meet at feasts which
were primarily sacrificial to ancestors; and we find a
parallelism with the religious observances of such clusters
of similarly-occupied relatives as the Asklepiadae among
the Greeks ; and we find a parallelism with the gild-
feasts of the ancestor-worshipping Chinese, held in honour of
the patron saint : all suggesting the origin of those religious
services and feasts habitual in early gilds of our own
society. To state briefly the further likenesses of
nature : — We have, in the primitive compound family,
the obligation of blood-revenge for slain relatives ; and in
early gilds, as in ancient Sleswig, there was blood-revenge
for members of the gild. We have, in the compound
family, responsibility for transgressions of its members ; and
gilds were similarly responsible : the wergylds falling in part
on them, after murders were compounded for by money. We
have, in the compound family, joint claims to sustenance
derived from the common property and labour ; and in the
gild we have the duty of maintaining incapable members.
Within the family there was control of private conduct, either
LOCAL GOVEKNING AGENCIES. 469
"by a despotic Lead or by a council, as there is now within tho
local clusters of the Hindoo castes ; and in like manner the
ordinances of gilds extended to the regulation of personal
habits. Lastly, this family or caste government, as still
shown us in India, includes in its punishments excommuni
cation ; and so, too, was there outlawry from the gild.*
It is inferable, then, that the gild was evolved from the
family. Continuance of a business, art, or profession, among
descendants, is, in early stages, almost inevitable. Acquisi
tion of skill in it by early practice is easy ; the cost of teaching
is inappreciable ; and retention of the " craft " or " mystery "
within the family is desirable : there being also the reason
that while family-groups are in antagonism, the teaching of
one another's members cannot usually be practicable. But
in course of time there come into play influences by which
the character of the gild as an assemblage of kindred
is obscured. Adoption, which, as repeatedly pointed out,
is practised by groups of all kinds, needs but to become
common to cause this constitutional change. We have seen
that among the Greeks, "pupil" and "son" had the same name.
At the present time in Japan, an apprentice, standing in the
position of son to his master, calls him " father ;" and in our
own craft-gilds "the apprentice became a member of the
family of his master, who instructed him in his trade, and
who, like a father, had to watch over his morals, as well as
his work." The eventual admission of the apprentice
into the gild, when he was a stranger in blood to its mem
bers, qualified, in so far, its original nature; and where,
through successive generations, the trade was a prospeious
* A friend who has. read this chapter in proof, points out to me passages
In \rhioh Brentano draws from these parallelisms a like inference. .Re
ferring to the traits of certain fully-developed gilds, he says : — " If we con-
neet them with what historians relate about the family in those days, w«
may Btill recognize in them the germ from which, in later times, at a certain
stage of civilization, the Gild had necessarily to develop itself , . . the family
appears as the pattern and original type, alter which all the later Gilds were
formed."
470 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
one, tempting masters to get more help than their own sons
could furnish, this process would slowly bring about predomi
nance of the unrelated members, and an ultimate loss of the
family-character. After which it would naturally happen
that the growing up of new settlements and towns, bringing
together immigrants who followed the same calling but were
Dot of the same blood, would lead to the deliberate forma
tion of gilds after the pattern of those existing in older
places : an appearance of artificial origin being the result ;
just as now, in our colonies, there is an apparently artificial
origin of political institutions which yet, as .being fashioned
like those of the mother-country, where they were slowly
evolved, are traceable to a natural origin.
Any one who doubts the transformation indicated, may be
reminded of a much greater transformation of allied kind.
The gilds of London, — goldsmiths', fishmongers', and the
rest,— were originally composed of men carrying on the
trades implied by their names ; but in each of these com
panies the inclusion of persons of other trades, or of no trade,
has gone to the extent that few if any of the members carry
on the trades which their memberships imply. If, then,
the process of adoption in this later form, has so changed
the gild that, while retaining its identity, it has lost its
distinctive trade-character, we are warranted in concluding
that still more readily might the earlier process of adop
tion into the simple family or the compound family practis
ing any craft, eventually change the gild from a cluster
of kindred to a cluster formed chiefly of unrelated persons.
§ 514. Involved and obscure as the process has been, the
evolution of local governing agencies is thus fairly compre
hensible. We divide them into two kinds, which, starting
from a common root, have diverged as fast as small societies
have been integrated into large ones.
Through successive stages of consolidation, the political
heads of the once-separate parts pass from independence to
LOCAL GOVERNING AGENCIES. 471
dependence, and end in being provincial agents — first partially-
conquered chiefs paying tribute ; then fully-conquered chiefs
governing under command ; then local governors who are
appointed by the central governor and hold power jndei
approval : becoming eventually executive officers.
There is habitually a kinship in character between tho
controlling systems of the parts and the controlling system
of the whole (assuming unity of race), consequent on the
fact that both are ultimately products of the same individual
nature. With a central despotism there goes local despotic
rule ; with a freer form of the major government there goes
a freer form of the minor governments ; and a change either
way in the one is followed by a kindred change in the
other.
While, with the compounding of small societies into large
ones, the political ruling agencies which develop locally as
well as generally, become separate from, and predominant
over, the ruling agencies of family-origin, these last do not
disappear ; but, surviving in their first forms, also give
origin to differentiated forms. The assemblage of kindred long
continues to have a qualified semi- political autonomy, with
internal government and external obligations and claims.
And while family-clusters, losing their definiteness by inter
fusion, slowly lose their traits as separate independent
societies, there descend from them clusters which, in some
cases united chiefly by locality and in others chiefly by
occupation, inherit their traits, and constitute governing
agencies supplementing the purely political ones.
It may be added that these supplementary governing
agencies, proper to the militant type of society, dissolve as
the industrial type begins to predominate. Defending their
members, held responsible for the transgressions of their
members, and exercising coercion over their members, they
are made needful by, and bear the traits of, a regime of
chronic antagonisms ; and as these die away their raistm
d'etre disappears. Moreover, artificially restricting, as they
472 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
do, the actions of each memher, and also making him re
sponsible for other deeds than his own, they are at variance
with that increasing assertion of individuality which accom
panies developing industrialism.
CHAPTER XII.
MILITARY SYSTEMS.
§ 515. Indirectly, much has already been said concerning
the subject now to be dealt with. Originally identical as is
the political organization with the military organization, it
has been impossible to treat of the first without touching on
the second. After exhibiting the facts under one aspect we
have here to exhibit another aspect of them ; and at the same
time to bring into view classes of related facts thus far unob
served. But, first, let us dwell a moment on the alleged
original identity.
In rude societies all adult males are warriors ; and, conse
quently, the army is the mobilized community, and the com
munity is the army at rest, as was remarked in § 259.
With this general truth we may join the general truth
that the primitive military gathering is also the primitive poli
tical gathering. Alike in savage tribes and in communities
like those of our rude ancestors, the assemblies which are
summoned for purposes of defence and offence, are the
assemblies in which public questions at large are decided.
Next stands the fact, so often named, that in the normal
course of social evolution, the military head grows into tho
political head. This double character of leading warrior and
civil ruler, early arising, ordinarily continues through long
stages ; and where, as not unfrequently happens, military
headship becomes in a measure separated from political
474 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
headship, continued warfare is apt to cause a re-identifi
cation of them.
As societies become compounded and re-compounded, coin
cidence of military authority with political authority is shown
in detail as well as in general — in the parts as in the whole.
The minor war-chiefs are also minor civil rulers in their
several localities; and the commanding of their respective
groups of soldiers in the field, is of like nature with the
governing of their respective groups of dependents at home.
Once more, there is the general fact that the economic
organizations of primitive communities, coincide with their
military organizations. In savage tribes war and hunting
are carried on by the same men ; while their wives (and their
slaves where they have any) do the drudgery of domestic
life. And, similarly, in rude societies that have become
settled, the military unit and the economic unit are the same.
The soldier is also the landowner.
Such, then, being the primitive identity of the political
organization with military organization, we have in this
chapter to note the ways in which the two differentiate.
§ 516. We may most conveniently initiate the inquiry by
observing the change which, during social evolution, takes
place in the incidence of military obligations ; and by recog
nizing the accompanying separation of the fighting body from
the rest of the community.
Though there are some tribes in which military service
(for aggressive war at any rate) is not compulsory, as the
Comanches, Dakotas; Chippewas, whose war-chiefs go about
enlisting volunteers for their expeditions ; yet habitually where
political subordination is established, every man not privately
possessed as a chattel is bound to fight when called on. There
have been, and are, some societies of considerably- advanced
structures in which this state of things continues. In ancient
Peru the common men were all either actually in the army
or formed a reserve occupied in labour ; and in modern Siaiu
MILITARY SYSTEMS. 475
the people " are all soldiers, and owe six months' service
yearly to their prince." But, usually, social progress is accom
panied by a narrowed incidence of military obligation.
When the enslavement of captives is followed by the rear
ing of their children as slaves, as well as by the consigning
of criminals and debtors to slavery — when, as in some cases,
there is joined with the slave-class a serf-class composed of
subjugated people not detached from their homes ; the com
munity becomes divided into two parts, on one of which only
does military duty fall. Whereas, in previous stages, the
division of the whole society had been into men as fighters
and women as workers, the division of workers now begins to
include men ; and these continue to form an increasing part
of the total male population. Though we are told that in
Ashantee (where everyone is in fact owned by the king) the
slave-population " principally constitutes the military force,"
and that in Kabbah (among the Fiilahs) the army is com
posed of slaves liberated " on consideration of their taking up
arms ;" yet, generally, those in bondage are not liable to mili
tary service : the causes being partly distrust of them (as was
shown among the Spartans when forced to employ the helots)
partly contempt for them as defeated men or the offspring of
defeated men, and partly a desire to devolve on others, labours
at once necessary and repugnant. Causes aside, however, the
evidence proves that the army at this early stage usually
coincides with the body of freemen ; who are also the body
of landowners. This, as before shown in § 458, was the
case in Egypt, Greece, Home, and Germany. How natural
is this incidence of military obligation, we see in the facts
that in ancient Japan and mediaeval India, there were
systems of military tenure like that of the middle ages in
Europe ; and that a kindred connexion had arisen even in
societies like those of Tahiti and Samoa.
Extent of estate being a measure of its owner's ability
to bear burdens, there grows up a connexion between
the amount of land held and the amount of military aid
476 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
to be rendered. Thus in Greece under Solon, those whose
properties yielded less than a certain revenue were exempt
from duty as soldiers, save in emergencies. In Borne, with a
view to better adjustment of the relation between means and
requirements, there was a periodic " revision of the register of
landed property, which was at the same time the levy-roll."
Throughout the middle ages this principle was acted upon
by proportioning the numbers of warriors demanded to the
sizes of the fiefs ; and again, afterwards, by requiring from
parishes their respective contingents.
A dissociation of military duty from land-ownership
begins when land ceases to be the only source of wealth.
The growth of a class of free workers, accumulating pro
perty by trade, is followed by the imposing on them, also, of
obligations to fight or to provide fighters. Though, as appa
rently in the cases of Greece and Kome, the possessions in
virtue of which citizens of this order at first become liable,
are lands in which they have invested ; yet, at later stages,
they become liable as possessors of other property. Such, at
least, is the interpretation we may give to the practice of
making industrial populations furnish their specified numbers
of warriors ; whether, as during the Eoman conquests, it took
the shape of requiring " rich and populous " towns to maintain
cohorts of infantry or divisions of cavalry, or whether, as with
chartered towns in mediaeval days, there was a contract with
the king as suzerain, to supply him with stated numbers of
men duly armed.
Later on, the same cause initiates a further change. As
fast as industry increases the relative quantity of trans
ferable property, it becomes more easy to compound for
service in war ; either by providing a deputy or by paying to
the ruler a sum which enables him to provide one. Origi
nally the penalty for non-fulfilment of military obligation
was loss of lands ; then a heavy fine, which, once accepted,
it became more frequently the custom to bear; then an
habitual compounding for the special services demanded;
MILITARY SYSTEMS. 477
then a levying of dues, such as those called scutages, in place
of special compositions. Evidently, industrial growth made
this change possible ; both by increasing the population from
which the required numbers of substitutes could be obtained,
and by producing the needful floating capital.
So that whereas in savage and semi-civilized communities
of warlike kinds, the incidence of military obligation is such
that each free man has to serve personally, and also to pro
vide his own arms and provisions ; the progress from this
state in which industry does but occupy the intervals between
wars to a state in which war does but occasionally break the
habitual industry, brings an increasing dissociation of mili
tary obligation from free citizenship : military obligation at
the same time tending to become a pecuniary burden levied
in proportion to property of whatever kind. Though where
there is a conscription, personal service is theoretically due
from eacli on whom the lot falls, yet the ability to buy a sub
stitute brings the obligation back to a pecuniary one. And
though we have an instance in our own day of universal
military obligation not thus to be compounded for, we see
that it is part of a reversion to the condition of predominant
militancy.
§ 517. An aspect of this change not yet noted, is the
simultaneous decrease in the ratio which the fighting part of
the community bears to the rest. With the transition from
nomadic habits to settled habits, there begins an economic
resistance to militant action, which increases as industrial life
develops, and diminishes the relative size of the military body.
Though in tribes of hunters the men are as ready for war
ut one time as at another, yet in agricultural societies there
obviously exists an impediment to unceasing warfare. In
the exceptional case of the Spartans, the carrying on of rural
industry was not allowed to prevent daily occupation of all
freemen in warlike exercjses ; but, speaking generally, the
sowing and reaping of crops hinder the gathering together
POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
of freemen for offensive or defensive purposes. Hence in
course of time come decreased calls on them. The ancient
Suevi divided themselves so as alternately to share war-
duties and farm-work : each season the active warriors re
turned to till the land, while their places were " supplied by
the husbandmen of the previous year." Alfred established
in England a kindred alternation between military service
and cultivation of the soil. In feudal times, again, the same
tendency was shown by restrictions on the duration and
amount of the armed aid which a feudal tenant and his re
tainers had to give — now for sixty, for forty, for twenty days,
down even to four ; now alone, and again with specified num
bers of followers ; here without limit of distance, and there
within the bounds of a county. Doubtless, insubordination
often caused resistances to service, and consequent limitations
of this kind. But manifestly, absorption of the energies in
industry, directly and indirectly antagonized militant action ;
with the result that separation of the fighting body from the
general body of citizens was accompanied by a decrease in its
relative mass.
There are two cooperating causes for this decrease of its
relative mass, which are of much significance. One is the
increasing costliness of the soldier, and of war appliances,
which goes along with that social progress made possible by
industrial growth. In the savage state each warrior provides
his own weapons ; and, on war-excursions, depends on himself
for sustenance. At a higher stage this ceases to be the case.
"When chariots of war, and armour, and siege-implements
come to be used, there are presupposed sundry specialized and
skilled artizan-classes ; implying a higher ratio of the industrial
part of the community to the militant part. And when,
later on, there are introduced rire-arms, artillery, ironclads,
torpedoes, and the like, we see that there must co-exist
a large and highly-organized body of producers and dis
tributors ; alike to furnish the required powers and bear the
entailed cost. That is to say, the war-machinery, both living
MILITARY SYSTEMS. 479
and dead, cannot be raised in efficiency without lowering
the ratio it bears to those sustaining structures which give it
efficiency.
The other cooperating cause which simultaneously comes
into play, is directly due to the compounding and re-compound-
i ng of societies. The larger nations become, and the greater the
distances over which their military actions range, the more
expensive do those actions grow. It is with an army as with
a limb, the effort put forth is costly in proportion to the
remoteness of the acting parts from the base of operations.
Though it is true that a body of victorious invaders may raise
some, or the whole, of its supplies from the conquered society,
yet before it has effected conquest it cannot do this, but is
dependent for maintenance on its own society, of which it
then forms an integral part : where it ceases to form an
integral part and wanders far away, living on spoils, like
Tatar hordes in past ages, we are no longer dealing with
social organization and its laws, but with social destruction.
Limiting ourselves to societies which, permanently localized,
preserve their individualities, it is clear that the larger the
integrations formed, the greater is the social strain conse
quent on the distances at which fighting has to be done ; and
the greater the amount of industrial population required to
bear the strain. Doubtless, improved means of communica
tion may all at once alter the ratio ; but this does not conflict
with the proposition when qualified by saying — other things
equal.
In three ways, therefore, does settled life, and the develop
ment of civilization, so increase the economic resistance to
militant action, as to cause decrease of the ratio boine by
the militant part to the non-militant part.
§ 518. With those changes in the incidence of military
obligation which tend to separate the body of soldiers
from the body of workers, and with those other changes
which tend to diminish its relative size, there go changes
450 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
which tend to differentiate it in a further way. The first of
these to be noted is the parting of military headship from
political headship.
We have seen that the commencement of social organization
is the growth of the leading warrior into the civil governor.
To illustrative facts before named may be added the fact
that an old English ruler, as instance Hengist, was originally
called " Here-toga " — literally army-leader ; and the office
developed into that of king only after settlement in Britain.
But with establishment of hereditary succession to political
headship, there comes into play an influence which tends to
make the chief of the State distinct from the chief of the
army. That antagonism between the principle of inheritance
and the principle of efficiency, everywhere at work, has from
the beginning been conspicuous in this relation, because of
the imperative need for efficient generalship. Often, as shown
in § 473, there is an endeavour to unite the two qualifications ;
as, for example, in ancient Mexico, where the king, before being
crowned, had to fill successfully the position of commander-
in-chief. But from quite early stages we find that where
hereditary succession has been established, and there does not
happen to be inheritance of military capacity along with
political supremacy, it is common for headship of the warriors
to become a separate post filled by election. Says Waitz,
" among the Guaranis the chieftainship generally goes from
father to first-born son. The leader in war is, however,
elected," In Ancient Nicaragua " the war-chief was elected
by the warriors to lead them, on account of his ability and
bravery in battle ; but the civil or hereditary chief often
accompanies the army." Of the New Zealanders we read
that " hereditary chiefs were generally the leaders," but not
always: others being chosen on account of bravery. And
among the Sakarran Dyaks there is a war chief, in addition
to the ordinary chief. In the case of the Bedouins the original
motive has been defeated hi a curious way.
'' During a campaign in actual warfare, the authority of the sheikh
MILITARY SYSTEMS. 481
of the tribe is completely set aside, and the soldiers are wholly under
the command of the agyd. . . . The office of agyd is hereditary in a
certain family, from father to son ; and the Arabs submit to the com
mands of an agyd, whom they know to be deficient both in bravery and
judgment, rather than yield to the orders of their sheikh during the
actual expedition ; for they say that expeditions headed by the sheikh,
are always unsuccessful."
It should be added that in some cases we see coming into
play further motives. Forster tells us that in Tahiti the
king sometimes resigns the post of commander-in-chief of
the fighting force, to one of his chiefs : conscious either of his
own unfitness or desirous of avoiding danger. And then in
some cases the anxiety of subjects to escape the evils follow
ing loss of the political head, leads to this separation ; as
when, among the Hebrews, " the men of David sware unto
him, saying, Thou shalt go no more out with us to battle,
that thou quench not the light of Israel ; " or as when, in
France in 923, the king was besought by the ecclesiastics
and nobles who surrounded him, to take no part in the im
pending fight.
At the same time the ruler, conscious that military com
mand gives great power to its holder, frequently appoints as
army-leader his son or other near relative : thus trying to
prevent the usurpation so apt to occur (as, to add another
instance, it occurred among the Hebrews, whose throne was
several times seized by captains of the host). The Iliad shows
that it was usual for a Greek king to delegate to his heir
the duty of commanding Ins troops. In Merovingian times
kings' sons frequently led their fathers' armies ; and of the
Carolingians we read that while the king commanded the
main levy, " over other armies his sons were placed,, and to
them the business of commanding was afterwards increas
ingly transferred." It was thus in ancient Japan. When the
emperor did not himself command his troops, " this change
was only committed to members of the Imperial house,"
and " the power thus remained with the sovereign." In
ancient Peru there was a like alternative. " The army was
482 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
put under the direction of some experienced chief of the royal
blood, or,- more frequently, headed by the Ynca in person."
The widening civil functions of the political head, obviously
prompt this delegation of military functions. But while the
discharge of both becomes increasingly difficult as the nation
enlarges ; and while the attempt to discharge both is danger
ous ; there is also danger in doing either by deputy. At the
same time that there is risk in giving supreme command of a
distant army to a general, there is also risk in going with the
army and leaving the government in the hands of a vice
gerent ; and the catastrophes from the one or the other
cause, which, spite of precautions, have taken place, show us
alike that there is, during social evolution, an inevitable ten
dency to the differentiation of the military headship from the
political headship, but that this differentiation can become
permanent only under certain conditions.
The general fact would appear to be that while militant
activity is great, and the whole society has the organiza
tion appropriate to it, the state of equilibrium is one in which
the political head continues to be also the militant head ;
that in proportion as there grows up, along with industrial
life, a civil administration distinguishable from the military
administration, the political head tends to become increas
ingly civil in his functions, and to delegate, now occasionally,
now generally, his militant functions ; that if there is a
return to great militant activity, with consequent reversion to
militant structure, there is liable to occur a re-establishment
of the primitive type of headship, by usurpation on the part
of the successful general — either practical usurpation, where
the king is too sacred to be displaced, or complete usurpation
where he is not too sacred; but that where, along with
decreasing militancy, there goes increasing civil life and ad
ministration, headship of the army becomes permanently
differentiated from political headship, and subordinated to it,
§ 519. While, in the course of social evolution, there has
MILITARY SYSTEMS. 483
been going on this separation of the fighting body from the
community at large, this diminution in its relative mass, and
this establishment of a distinct headship to it, there has been
going on an internal organization of it.
The fighting body is a* first wholly without structure.
Among savages a battle is a number of single combats: the
chief, if there is one, being but the warrior of most mark, who
fights like the rest. Through long stages this disunited action
continues. The Iliad tells of little more than the personal en
counters of heroes, which were doubtless "multiplied in detail
by their unmentioned followers ; and after the decay of that
higher military organization which accompanied Greek and
Eoman civilization, this chaotic kind of fighting recurred
throughout mediaeval Europe. During the early feudal
period everything turned on the prowess of individuals. War,
says Gautier, consisted of "bloody duels ;" and even much
later the idea of personal action dominated over that of com
bined action. But along with political progress, the subjec
tion of individuals to their chief is increasingly shown by
fulfilling his commands in battle. Action in the field
becomes in a higher degree concerted, by the absorption of
their wills in his will.
A like change presently shows itself on a larger scale.
While the members of each component group have their actions
more and more combined, the groups themselves, of which
an army is composed, pass from disunited action to united
action. When small societies are compounded into a larger
one, their joint body of warriors at first consists of the tribal
clusters and family-clusters assembled together, but retaining
their respective individualities. The head of each Hottentot
kraal, " has the command, under the chief of his nation, of the
troops furnished out by his kraal." Similarly, the Malagasy
* kept their own respective clans, and every clan had its own
leader." Among the Chibchas, " each cazique and tribe carne
with different signs on their tents, fitted out with the mantles
by which they distinguished themselves from each other." A.
90
484: POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
kindred arrangement existed in early Eoman times : the city-
army was " distributed into tribes, curiae, and families." It
was so, too, with the Germanic peoples, who, in the field,
" arranged themselves, when not otherwise tied, in families
and affinities;" or, as is said by Kemble of our ancestors in
old English times, " each kindred was drawn up under an
officer of its own lineage and appointment, and the several
members of the family served together/' This organization,
or lack of organization, continued throughout the feudal period.
In France, in the 14th century, the army was a " horde of
independent chiefs, each with his own following, each doing
his own will ;" and, according to Froissart, the different groups
" were so ill-informed " that they did not always know of a
discomfiture of the main body.
Besides that increased subordination of local heads to the
general head which accompanies political integration, and
which must of course precede a more centralized and com
bined mode of military action, two special causes may be
recognized as preparing the way for it.
One of these is unlikeness of kinds in the arms used.
Sometimes the cooperating tribes, having habituated them
selves to different weapons, come to battle already marked
off from one another. In such cases the divisions by
weapons correspond with the tribal divisions ; as seems to
have been to some extent the case with the Hebrews, among
whom the men of Benjamin, of Gad, and of Judah, were
partially thus distinguished. But, usually, the unlikenesses of
arms consequent on unlikenesses of rank, initiate these milit
ary divisions which tend to traverse the divisions arising from
tribal organization. The army of the ancient Egyptians
included bodies of charioteers, of cavalry, and of foot ; and
the respective accoutrements of the men forming these bodies,
differing in their costliness, implied differences of social posi
tion. The like may be said of the Assyrians. Similarly, the
Iliad shows us among the early Greeks a state in which the
MILITARY SYSTEMS. 485
contrasts in weapons due to contrasts in wealth, had not
yet resulted in differently-armed bodies, such as are formed
at later stages with decreasing regard for tribal or local divi
sions. And it was so in Western Europe during times when
each feudal superior led his own knights, and his followers of
inferior grades and weapons. Though within each group there
were men differing alike in their rank and in their arms, yet
what we may call the vertical divisions between groups were
not traversed by those horizontal divisions throughout the
whole army, which unite all who are similarly armed. This
wider segregation it is, however, which we observe taking
place with the advance of military organization. The supre
macy acquired by the Spartans was largely due to the fact
that Lykurgus " established military divisions quite distinct
from the civil divisions, whereas in the other states of Greece,
until a period much later . . . the two were confounded —
the hoplites or horsemen of the same tribe or ward being
marshalled together on the field of battle." With the pro
gress of the Roman arms there occurred kindred changes.
The divisions came to be related less to rank as dependent
on tribal organization, and more to social position as deter
mined by property ; so that the kinds of arms to be borne
and the services to be rendered, were regulated by the sizes
of estates, with the result of " merging all distinctions of a
gentile and local nature in the one common levy of the com
munity." In the field, divisions so established stood thus : —
" The four first ranks of each phalanx were formed of the full-armed
hoplites of the first class, the holders of an entire hide [?] ; in the fifth
and sixth were placed the less completely equipped farmers of the second
and third class ; the two last classes were annexed as rear ranks to the
phalanx.
And though political distinctions of clan-origin were not
thus directly disregarded in the cavalry, yet they were in
directly interfered with by the addition of a larger troop of
lion-burgess cavalry. That a system of divisions which tends
to obliterate those of rank and locality, has been reproduced
4:86 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
during the re-development of military organization in modern
times, is a familiar fact.
A concomitant cause of this change has all along been
that interfusion of the gentile and tribal groups entailed by
aggregation of large numbers. As before pointed out. the
Kleisthenian re-organization in Attica, and the Servian re
organization in Eome, were largely determined by the im
practicability of maintaining the correspondence between
tribal divisions and military obligations ; and a redistribution
of military obligations naturally proceeded on a numerical
basis. By various peoples, we find this step in organization
taken for civil purposes or military purposes, or both. To
cases named in § 512, may be added that of the Hebrews,
who were grouped into tens, fifties, hundreds and thousands.
Even the barbarous Araucanians divided themselves into
regiments of a thousand, sub-divided into companies of a
hundred. Evidently numerical grouping conspires with
classing by arms to obliterate the primitive divisions.
This transition from the state of incoherent clusters, each
having its own rude organization, to the state of a coherent
whole, held together by an elaborate organization running
throughout it, of course implies a concomitant progress in
the centralization of command. As the primitive horde
becomes more efficient for war in proportion as its members
grow obedient to the orders of its chief; so, the army formed
of aggregated hordes becomes more efficient in proportion as
the chiefs of the hordes fall under the power of one supreme
chief. And the above-described transition from aggregated
tribal and local groups to an army formed of regular
divisions and sub- divisions, goes along with the development
of grades of commanders, successively subordinated one to
another. A controlling system of this kind is developed
by the uncivilized, where considerable military efficiency has
been reached ; as at present among the Araucanians, the
Zulus, the Uganda people, who have severally three grades of
officers; as in the past among the ancient Peruvians and
MILITARY SYSTEMS. 487
ancient Mexicans, who had respectively several grades ; and
aa also among the ancient Hebrews.
§ 520. One further general change has to be noticed — the
change from a state in which the army now assembles and
now disperses, as required, to a state in which it becomes
pei manently established.
While, as among savages, the male adults are all warriors,
the fighting body, existing in its combined form only during
war, becomes during peace a dispersed body carrying on in
parties or separately, hunting and other occupations; and
similarly, as we have seen, during early stages of settled life
the armed freemen, owning land jointly or separately, all
having to serve as soldiers when called on, return to their
farming when war is over : there is no standing army. But
though after the compounding of small societies into larger
ones by war, and the rise of a central power, a kindred system
long continues, there come the beginnings of another system.
Of course, irrespective of form of goverment, frequent wars
generate .permanent military forces; as they did in early
times among the Spartans ; as later among the Athenians ;
and as among the Romans, when extension of territory
brought frequent needs for repressing rebellions. Eecognizing
these cases, we may pass to the more usual cases, in which
a permanent military force originates from the body of armed
attendants surrounding the ruler. Early stages show us
this nucleus. In Tahiti .the king or chief had warriors
among his attendants ; and the king of Ashantee has a body
guard clad in skins of wild beasts — leopards, panthers, &c.
As was pointed out when tracing the process of political
differentiation, there tend everywhere to gather round a pre
dominant chieftain, refugees and others who exchange armed
service for support and protection ; and so enable the pre
dominant chieftain to become more predominant. Hence the
comites attached to the princeps in the early German com
munity, the huscarlas or housecarls surrounding old English
488 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
kings, and the antrustions of the Merovingian rulers. These
armed followers displayed in little, the characters of a stand
ing army ; not simply as being permanently united, but also
as being severally bound to their prince or lord by relations
of personal fealty, and as being subject to internal govern
ment under a code ol martial law, apart from the govern
ment of the freemen ; as was especially shown in the large
assemblage of them, amounting to 6,000, which was formed
by Cnut.
In this last case we see how small body-guards, growing as
the conquering chief or king draws to his standard adven
turers, fugitive criminals, men who have fled from injustice,
&c., pass unobtrusively into troops of soldiers who fight for
pay. The employment of mercenaries goes back to the
earliest times — being traceable in the records of the Egyptains
at all periods ; and it continues "to re-appear under certain
conditions : a primary condition being that the ruler shall
have acquired a considerable revenue. Whether of home
origin or foreign origin, these large bodies of professional
soldiers can be maintained only by large pecuniary means ;
and, ordinarily, possession of these means goes along with
such power as enables the king to exact dues and fines. In
early stages the members of the fighting body, when sum
moned for service, have severally to provide themselves not
only with their appropriate arms, but also with the needful
supplies of all kinds : there being, while political organiza
tion is little developed, neither the resources nor the adminis
trative machinery required for another system. But the
economic resistance to militant action, which, as we have
seen, increases as agricultural life spreads, leading to occa
sional non-attendance, to confiscations, to heavy fines in
place of confiscations, then to fixed money-payments in place
of personal services, results in the growth of a revenue which
serves to pay professional soldiers in place of the vassals who
have compounded. And it then becomes possible, instead of
hiring many such substitutes for short times, to hire a smaller
MILITARY SYSTEMS. 489
number continuously — so adding to the original nucleus of a
permanent armed force. Every further increase of royal
power, increasing the ability to raise money, furthers this
differentiation. As Eanke remarks of France, "standing
armies, imposts, and loans, all originated together."
Of course the primitive military obligation falling on all
freemen, long continues to be shown in modified ways.
Among ourselves, for instance, there were the various laws
under which men were bound, according to their incomes, to
have in readiness specified supplies of horses, weapons, and
accoutrements, for themselves and others when demanded.
Afterwards came the militia-laws, under which there
fell on men in proportion to their means, the obligations
to provide duly armed horse-soldiers or foot-soldiers, per
sonally or by substitute, to be called out for exercise at
specified intervals for specified numbers of days, and to be
provided with subsistence. There may be instanced, again,
such laws as those under which in France, in the 15th cen
tury, a corps of horsemen was formed by requiring all the
parishes to furnish one each. And there are the various more
modern forms of conscription, used, now to raise temporary
forces, and now to maintain a permanent army. Everywhere,
indeed, freemen remain potential soldiers when not actual
soldiers.
§ 52 L. Setting out with that undifferentiated state of the
body politic in which the army is co-extensive with the
adult nale population, we thus observe several ways in
which there goes on the evolution which makes it a
specialized part.
There is the restriction in relative mass, which, first seen
in the growth of a slave-population, engaged in work instead
of war, becomes more decided as a settled agricultural life
occupies freemen, and increases the obstacles to military
service. There is, again, the restriction caused by that
growing costliness of the individual soldier accompanying
490 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
the development of arms, accoutrements, and ancillary ap
pliances of warfare. And there is the yet additional restric
tion caused by the intenser strain which military action puts
on the resources of a nation, in proportion as it is carried
on at a greater distance.
With separation of the fighting body from the body-politic
at large, there very generally goes acquirement of a sepa
rate head. Active militancy ever tends to maintain union
of civil rule with military rule, and often causes re-union of
them where they have become separate; but with the
primary differentiation of civil from military structures, is
commonly associated a tendency to the rise of distinct con
trolling centres for them. This tendency, often defeated by
usurpation where wars are frequent, takes effect under oppo
site conditions ; and then produces a military head subordi
nate to the civil head.
While the whole society is being developed by differen
tiation of the army from the rest, there goes on a develop
ment within the army itself. As in the primitive horde trw
progress is from the uncombined fighting of individuals to
combined fighting under direction of a chief; so, on a larger
scale, when small societies are united into great ones, the
progress is from the independent fighting of tribal and local
groups, to fighting under direction of a general commander.
And to effect a centralized control, there arises a graduated
system of officers, replacing the set of primitive heads of
groups, and a system of divisions which, traversing the
original divisions of groups, establish regularly-organized
masses having different functions.
With developed structure of the fighting body comes per
manence of it. While, as in early times, men are gathered
together for small wars and then again dispersed, efficient
organization of them is impracticable. It becomes practicable
only among men who are constantly kept together by wars
or preparations for wars ; and bodies of such men growing up,
replace the temporarily-summoned bodies.
MILITARY SYSTEMS. 491
Lastly, we must not omit to note that while the army
becomes otherwise distinguished, it becomes distinguished by
retaining and elaborating the system of status ; though in the
rest of the community, as it advances, the system of contract
is spreading and growing definite. Compulsory cooperation
continues to be the principle of the military part, however
widely the principle of voluntary cooperation comes into play
tihroughout the civil part.
CHAPTER XIII.
JUDICIAL AND EXECUTIVE SYSTEMS.
§ 522. That we may be prepared for recognizing the
primitive identity of military institutions with institutions
for administering justice, let us observe how close is the kin
ship between the modes of dealing with external aggression
and internal aggression, respectively.
We have the facts, already more than once emphasized, that
at first the responsibilities of communities to one another
are paralleled by the responsibilities to one another of family-
groups within each community ; and that the kindred claims
are enforced in kindred ways. Various savage tribes show us
that, originally, external war has to effect an equalization of
injuries, either directly in kind or indirectly by compen
sations. Among the Chinooks, " has the one party a larger
number of dead than the other, indemnification must be
made by the latter, or the war is continued ;" and among the
Arabs " when peace is to be made, both parties count up their
dead, and the usual blood-money is paid for excess on either
side." By which instances we are shown that in the wars
between tribes, as in the family-feuds of early times, a
death must be balanced by a death, or else must be com
pounded for ; as it once was in Germany and in England, by
specified numbers of sheep and cattle, or by money.
Not only are the wars which societies carry on to effect the
righting of alleged wrongs, thus paralleled by family-feuds in
the respect that for retaliation in kind there may be substi-
JUDICIAL AND EXECUTIVE SYSTEMS. 493
tuted a penalty adjudged by usage or authority ; but tbey are
paralleled by feuds between individuals in the like respect.
From the first stage in which each man avenges himself by
force on a transgressing neighbour, as the whole community
does on a transgressing community, the transition is to a
stage in which he has the alternative of demanding justice at
the hands of the ruler. We see this beginning in such places
as the Sandwich Islands, where an injured person who is too
weak to retaliate, appeals to the king or principal chief; and
in quite advanced stages, option between the two methods
of obtaining redress survives. The feeling shown down to the
13th century by Italian nobles, who " regarded it as dis
graceful to submit to laws rather than do themselves justice
by force of arms," is traceable throughout the history of
Europe in the slow yielding of private rectification of wrongs
to public arbitration. "A capitulary of Charles the Bald
bids them [the freemen] go to court armed as for war, for
they might have to fight for their jurisdiction ;" and our own
history furnishes an interesting example in the early form of
an action for recovering land : the " grand assize " which tried
the cause, originally consisted of knights armed with swords.
Again we have evidence in such facts as that in the 12th
century in France, legal decisions were so little regarded
that trials often issued in duels. Further proof is yielded by
such facts as that judicial duels (which were the authorized
substitutes for private wars between families) continued in
France down to the close of the 14th century; that in
England, in 1768, a legislative proposal to abolish trial by
battle, was so strongly opposed that the measure was dropped ;
and that the option of such trial was not disallowed till 1819.
We may observe, also, that this self-protection gradually
gives place to protection by the State, only under stress of
public needs — especially need for military efficiency. Edicts
of Charlemagne and of Charles the Bald, seeking to stop the
disorders consequent on private wars, by insisting on appeals
to the ordained authorities, and threatening punishment of
4:94: POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
those who disobeyed, sufficiently imply the motive ; and this
motive was definitely shown in the feudal period in France,
by an ordinance of 1296, which " prohibits private wars aiid
judicial duels so long as the king is engaged in war."
Once more the militant nature of legal protection is seen
ir. the fact that, as at first, so now, it is a replacing of indi
vidual armed force by the armed force of the State — always
in reserve if not exercised. "The sword of justice" is a
phrase sufficiently indicating the truth that action against
the public enemy and action against the private enemy are in
the last resort the same.
Thus recognizing the original identity of the functions, we
shall be prepared for recognizing the original identity of the
structures by which they are carried on.
§ 523. For that primitive gathering of armed men which,
as we have seen, is at once the council of war and the
political assembly, is at the same time the judicial body.
Of existing savages the Hottentots show this. The court
of justice " consists of the captain and all the men of the
kraal. . . . 'Tis held in the open fields, the men squatting in
a circle. ... All matters are determined by a majority." . . .
If the prisoner is " convicted, and the court adjudges him
worthy of death, sentence is executed upon the spot." The
captain is chief executioner, striking the first blow ; and is
followed up by the others. The records of various historic
peoples yield evidence of kindred meaning. Taking first
the Greeks in Homeric days, we read that " sometimes the
king separately, sometimes the kings or chiefs or Gerontes,
in the plural number, are named as deciding disputes and
awarding satisfaction to complainants; always however in
public, in the midst of the assembled agora," in which
the popular sympathies were expressed: the meeting thus
described, being the same with that in which questions
of war and peace were debated. That in its early form
the Eoman gathering of " spearmen," asked by the king to
JUDICIAL AND EXECUTIVE SYSTEMS. 495
say " yes " or " no " to a proposed military expedition or to
some State-measure, also expressed its opinion concerning
criminal charges publicly judged, is implied by the fact that
" the king could not grant a pardon, for that privilege was
vested in the community alone." Describing the gatherings
of the primitive Germans, Tacitus says : — " The multitude
sits armed in such order as it thinks good ... It is lawful
also in the Assembly to bring matters for trial and to bring
charges of capital crimes ... In the same assembly chiefs
are chosen to administer justice throughout the districts and
villages. Each chief in so doing has a hundred companions of
the commons assigned to him, to strengthen at once his judg
ment and his dignity." A kindred arrangement is ascribed by
Lelevel to the Poles in early times, and to the Slavs at large.
Among the Danes, too, "in all secular affairs, justice was
administered by the popular tribunal of the Lands- Ting for
each province, and by the Herreds-Ting for the smaller dis
tricts or sub-divisions." Concerning the Irish in past times,
Prof. Leslie quotes Spenser to the effect that it was their
usage " to make great assemblies together upon a rath or hill,
there to parley about matters and wrongs between township
and township, or one private person and another." And then
there comes the illustration furnished by old English times
The local moots of various kinds had judicial functions ; and
the witenagemot sometimes acted as a high court of justice.
Interesting evidence that the original military assembly
was at the same time the original judicial assembly, is sup
plied by the early practice of punishing freemen for non-
attendance. Discharge of military obligation being imperative
the fining of those who did not come to the armed gathering
naturally followed; and fining for absence having become
the usage, survived when, as for judicial purposes, the need
for the presence of all was not imperative. Thence the
interpretation of the fact that non-attendance at the hundred-
court was thus punishable.
In this connexion it may be added that, in some cases
£96 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
where the primitive form continued, there was manifested an
incipient differentiation between the military assembly and
the judicial assembly. In the Carolingian period, judicial
assemblies began to be held under cover ; and freemen were
forbidden to bring their arms. As was pointed out in § 491,
among the Scandinavians no one was allowed to come armed
when the meeting was for judicial purposes. And since we
also read that in Iceland it was disreputable (not punishable)
for a freeman to be absent from the annual gathering, the
implication is that the imperativeness of attendance dimi
nished with the growing predominance of civil functions.
§ 524. The judicial body being at first identical with the
politico-military body, has necessarily the same triune
structure ; and we have now to observe the different forms it
assumes according to the respective developments of its three
components. We may expect to find kinship between these
forms and the concomitant political forms.
Where, with development of militant organization, the
power of the king has become greatly predominant over that
of the chiefs and over that of the people, his supremacy is
shown by his judicial absoluteness, as well as by his absolute
ness in political and military affairs. Such shares as the
elders and the multitude originally had in trying causes,
almost or quite disappear. But though in these cases the
authority of the king as judge, is unqualified by that of his
head men and his other subjects, there habitually survive
traces of the primitive arrangement. For habitually his
decisions are given in public and in the open air. Petitioners
for justice bring their cases before him when he makes his
appearance out of doors, surrounded by his attendants and
by a crowd of spectators ; as we have seen in § 372 that they
do down to the present day in Kashmere. By the Hebrew
rulers, judicial sittings were held "in the gates" — the
usual meeting-places of Eastern peoples. Among the early
Romans the king administered justice "in the place of
JUDICIAL AND EXECUTIVE SYSTEMS. 497
public assembly, sitting on a ' chariot-seat.' " Mr. Gomme's
Primitive Folk-Moots contains sundry illustrations showing
that among the Germans in old times, the Konigs-stuhl, or
king's judgment-seat, was on the green sward ; that in other
cases the stone steps at the town-gates constituted the seat
befoi e which causes were heard by him ; and that again,
in early French usage, trials often took place under trees.
According to Joinville this practice long continued in France.
** Many a time did it happen that, in summer, he [Lewis IX] would go
and sit in the forest of Yincennes after mass, and would rest against an
oak, and make us sit round him ... he asked them with his own
mouth, ' Is there any one who has a suit ?'...! have seen him some
times in summer come to hear his people's suits in the garden of Paris."
And something similar occurred in Scotland under David I.
All which customs among various peoples, imply survival of
the primitive judicial assembly, changed only by concentra
tion in its head of power originally shared by the leading
men and the undistinguished mass.
Where the second component of the triune political
structure becomes supreme, this in its turn monopolizes
judicial functions. Among the Spartans the oligarchic
senate, and in a measure the smaller and chance-selected
oligarchy constituted by the ephors, joined judicial functions
with their political functions. Similarly in Athens under the
aristocratic rule of the Eupatridse, we find the Areopagus
formed of its members, discharging, either itself or through its
nine chosen Archons, the duties of deciding causes and
executing decisions. In later days, again, we have the case of
the Venetian council of ten. And then, certain incidents of
the middle ages instructively show us one of the processes by
which judicial power, as well as political power, passes from
the hands of the freemen at large into the hands of a
smaller and wealthier class. In the Carolingian period,
besides the bi-annual meetings of the hundred- court, it was — •
" convoked at the Grafs will and pleasure, to try particular cases . . .
in the one case, as in the other, non-attendance was punished ... it was
found that the Grafs used their right to summon these extraordinary
4:98 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
Courts in excess, with a view, by repeated fines and amercements, to
ruin the small freeholders, and thus to get their abodes into their own
hands. Charlemagne introduced a radical law-reform . . . the great
body of the freemen were released from attendance at the Gebotent
Dinge, at which, from thenceforth, justice was to be administered under
the presidency, ex officio, of the Centenar, by ... permanent jurymen
• . . chosen de melioribus — i.e., from the more well-to-do freemen."
But in other cases, and especially where concentration
in a town renders performance of judicial functions less
burdensome, we see that along with retention or acquire
ment of predominant power by the third element in the
triune political structure, there goes exercise of judicial func
tions by it. The case of Athens, after the replacing of oli
garchic rule by democratic rule, is, of course, the most
familiar example of this. The Kleisthenian revolution made
the annually-appointed magistrates personally responsible to
the people judicially assembled ; and when, under Perikles,
there were established the dikasteries, or courts of paid jurors
chosen by lot, the administration of justice was transferred
almost wholly to the body of freemen, divided for convenience
into committees. Among the Frieslanders, who in early times
were enabled by the nature of their habitat to maintain a
free form of political organization, there continued the popu
lar judicial assembly: — " When the commons were summoned
for any particular purpose, the assembly took the name of the
Bodthing. The bodthing was called for the purpose of passing
judgment in cases of urgent necessity." And M. de Laveleye,
describing the Teutonic mark as still existing in Holland,
" especially in Drenthe," a tract " surrounded on all sides by
a marsh and bog " (again illustrating the physical conditions
favourable to maintenance of primitive free institutions), goes
on to say cf the inhabitants as periodically assembled : —
" They appeared in arms ; and no one could absent himself, under pain
of a fine. This assembly directed all the details as to the enjoyment of
the common property ; appointed the works to be executed ; imposed
pecuniary penalties for the violation of rules, and nominated the officers
charged with the executive power."
The likeness between the judicial form and the political
JUDICIAL AND EXECUTIVE SYSTEMS. 499
form is further shown where the government is neither despotic
nor oligarchic, nor democratic, but mixed. For in our own
case we see a system of administering justice which, like the
political system, unites authority that is in a considerable
degree irresponsible, with popular authority. In old English
times a certain power of making and enforcing local or " bye-
laws" was possessed by the town ship ; and in more important
and definite ways the hundred-moot and the shire-moot dis
charged judicial and executive functions: their respective
officers being at the same time elected. But the subsequent
growth of feudal institutions, followed by the development of
royal power, was accompanied by diminution of the popular
share in judicial business, and an increasing assignment of it
to members of the ruling classes and to agents of the crown.
And at present we see that the system, as including the
power of juries (which arose by selection of representative
men, though not in the interest of the people), is in part
popular; that in the summary jurisdiction of unpaid magis
trates who, though centrally appointed, mostly belong to the
wealthy classes, and especially the landowners, it is in part
aristocratic ; that in the regal commissioning of judges it
continues monarchic ; and that yet, as the selection of magis
trates and judges is practically in the hands of a ministry
executing, on the average, the public will, royal power and
class-power in the administration of justice are exercised
under popular control.
§ 525. A truth above implied and now to be definitely
observed, is that along with the consolidation of small societies
into large ones effected by war, there necessarily goes an
increasing discharge of judicial functions by deputy.
As the primitive king is very generally himself both
Commander-in-chief and high priest, it is not unnatural that
his delegated judicial functions should be fulfilled both by
priests and soldiers. Moreover, since the consultative body,
whem it becomes established and separated from the multi-
91
500 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
tude, habitually includes members of both these classes, such
judicial powers as it exercises cannot at the outset be mono
polized by members of either. And this participation ig
further seen to arise naturally on remembering how, as before
shown, priests have in so many societies united military
functions with clerical functions ; and how, in other cases,
becoming local rulers, having the same tenures and obliga
tions with purely military local rulers, they acquire, in com-
mon with them, local powers of judgment and execution ; as
did mediaeval prelates. Whether the ecclesiastical class or
the class of warrior-chiefs acquires judicial predominance,
probably depends mainly on the proportion between men's
fealty to the successful soldier, and their awe of the priest
as a recipient of divine communications.
Among the Zulus, who, with an undeveloped mythology,
have no great deities and resulting organized priesthood, the
king " shares his power with two soldiers of his choice. These
two form the supreme judges of the country." Similarly
with the Eggarahs (Inland Negroes), whose fetish-men do not
form an influential order, the first and second judges are
" also commanders of the forces in time of war." Passing
to historic peoples, we have in Attica, in Solon's time, the
nine archons, who, while possessing a certain sacredness as
belonging to the Eupatridse, united judicial with military
functions — more especially the polemarch. In ancient "Rome,
that kindred union of the two functions in the consuls,
who called themselves indiscriminately, prcetores or judices,
naturally resulted from their inheritance of both functiono
from the king they replaced ; but beyond this there is the
fact that though the pontiffs had previously been judges in
secular matters as well as in sacred matters, yet, after the esta
blishment of the republic, the several orders of magistrates were
selected from the non-clerical patricians, — the original soldier-
class. And then throughout the middle ages in Europe, wo
have the local milicary chiefs, whether holding positions like
those of old English thanes or like those of feudal barons, acting
JUDICIAL AND EXECUTIVE SYSTEMS. 501
as judges in their respective localities. Perhaps the clearest
illustration is that furnished by Japan, where a long-con
tinued and highly-developed military regime, has been
throughout associated with the monopoly of judicial func
tions by the military class : the apparent reason being that
in presence of the god-descended Mikado, supreme in heaven
as on earth, the indigenous Shinto religion never developed.
a divine ruler whose priests acquired, as his agents, an autho
rity competing with terrestrial authority.
But mostly there is extensive delegation of judicial powers
to the sacerdotal class, in early stages. We find it among
existing uncivilized peoples, as the Kalmucks, whose priests,
besides playing a predominant part in the greatest judicial
council, exercise local jurisdiction : in the court of each sub
ordinate chief, one of the high priests is head judge. Of
extinct uncivilized or semi-civilized peoples, may be named
the Indians of Yucatan, by whom priests were appointed as
judges in certain cases — judges who took part in the execu
tion of their own sentences. Originally, if not afterwards, the
giving of legal decisions was a priestly function in ancient
Egypt ; and that the priests were supreme judges among
the Hebrews is a familiar fact : the Deuteronomic law con
demning to death any one who disregarded their verdicts.
In that general assembly of the ancient Germans which, as
we have seen, exercised judicial powers, the priests were
prominent ; and, according to Tacitus, in war " none but the
priests are permitted to judge offenders, to inflict bonds or
stripes ; so that chastisement appears not as an act of military
discipline, but as the instigation of the god whom they sup
pose present with warriors." In ancient Britain, too, accord
ing to Csesar, the druids alone had authority to decide in both
civil and criminal cases, and executed their own sentences :
the penalty for disobedience to them being excommunication.
Grimm tells us that the like held among the Scandinavians.
" In their judicial character the priests seem to have exercised
a good deal of control over the people ... In Iceland, even
502 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
under Christianity, the judges retained the name and several
of the functions of heathen go^ar." And then we have the
illustration furnished by that rise of ecclesiastics to the posi
tions of judges throughout mediaeval Europe, which accom
panied belief in their divine authority. When, as during the
Merovingian period and after, " the fear of hell, the desire of
winning heaven," and other motives, prompted donations and
bequests to the Church, till a large part of the landed pro
perty fell into its hands — when there came increasing
numbers of clerical aud semi-clerical dependents of the
Church, over whom bishops exercised judgment and disci
pline — when ecclesiastical influence so extended itself that,
while priests became exempt from the control of laymen, lay
authorities became subject to priests ; there was established
a judicial power of this divinely-commissioned class to which
even kings succumbed. So was it in England too. Before the
Conquest, bishops had become the assessors of ealdormen in
the scire-gemot, and gave judgments on various civil matters.
With that recrudescence of military organization which fol
lowed the Conquest, came a limitation of their jurisdiction
to spiritual offences and causes concerning clerics. But
in subsequent periods ecclesiastical tribunals, bringing under
canon law numerous ordinary transgressions, usurped more
and more the duties of secular judges : their excommuni
cations being enforced by the temporal magistrates. More
over, since prelates as feudal nobles were judges in their
respective domains ; and since many major and minor judicial
offices in the central government were filled by prelates;
it resulted that the administration of justice was largely, if
Dot mainly, in the hands of priests.
This sharing of delegated judicial functions between the
military class and the priestly class, with predominance here
of the one and there of the other, naturally continued while
there was no other class having wealth and influence. But
with the increase of towns and the multiplication of traders,
who accumulated riches and acquired education, previously
JUDICIAL AND EXECUTIVE SYSTEMS. 503
possessed only by ecclesiastics, judicial functions fell more
and more into their hands. Sundry causes conspired to pro
duce this transfer. One was lack of culture among the
nobles, and their decreasing ability to administer laws, ever
increasing in number and in complexity. Another was the
political unfitness of ecclesiastics, who grew distasteful to
rulers in proportion as they pushed further the powers and
privileges which their supposed divine commission gave them.
Details need not detain us. The only general fact needing
to be emphasized, is that this transfer ended in a differen
tiation of structures. For whereas in earlier stages, judicial
functions were discharged by men who were at the same time
either soldiers or priests, they came now to be discharged by
men exclusively devoted to them.
§ 526. Simultaneously, the evolution of judicial systems
is displayed in several other ways. One of them is the ad
dition of judicial agents who are locomotive to the pre-exist
ing stationary judicial agents.
During the early stages in which the ruler administers
justice in person, he does this now in one place and now in
another ; according as affairs, military or judicial, carry him to
this or that place in his kingdom. Societies of various types
in various times yield evidence. Historians of ancient Peru
tell us that " the Ynca gave sentence according to the
crime, for he alone was judge wheresoever he resided, and
all persons wronged had recourse to him." Of the German
emperor in the 12th century we read that " not only did
he receive appeals, but his presence in any duchy or county
suspended the functions of the local judges." France
in the 15th century supplies an instance. King Charles
" spent two or three years in travelling up and down the
kingdom . . maintaining justice to the satisfaction of his
subjects." In Scotland something similar was done by
David I., who " settled marches, forest rights, and rights of
pasture : " himself making the marks which recorded his
504: POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
decisions, or seeing them made. In England, "Edgar and
Canute had themselves made judicial circuits ;" and there is
good evidence of such judicial travels in England up to the
time of the Great Charter. Sir Henry Maine has quoted
documents showing that King John, in common with earlier
kings, moved about the country with great activity, and held
his court wherever he might happen to be.
Of course with the progress of political integration and
consequent growing power of the central ruler, there come
more numerous cases in which appeal is made to him to rectify
the wrongs committed by local rulers ; and as State-business
at large augments and complicates, his inability to do this
personally leads to doing it by deputy. In France, in Char
lemagne's time, there were the " Missi Regii, who held
assizes from place to place ;" and then, not forgetting that
during a subsequent period the chief heralds in royal state, as
the king's representatives, made circuits to judge and punish
transgressing nobles, we may pass to the fact that in the later
feudal period, when the business of the king's court became
too great, commissioners were sent into the provinces to
judge particular cases in the king's name : a method which
does not appear to have been there developed further. But
in England, in Henry II.'s time, kindred causes prompted
kindred steps which initiated a permanent system. Instead
of listening to the increasing number of appeals made to his
court, personally or through his lieutenant the justiciar, the
king commissioned his constable, chancellor, and co-justiciar
to hear pleas in the different counties. Later, there came a
larger number of these members of the central judicial court
who made these judicial journeys : part of them being clerical
and part military. And hence eventually arose the esta
blished circuits of judges who, like their prototypes, had to
represent the king and exercise supreme authority.
It should be added that here again we meet with proofs
that in the evolution of arrangements conducing to the main
tenance of individual rights, the obligations are primary and
JUDICIAL AND EXECUTIVE SYSTEMS. 503
the claims derived. For the business of these travelling
judges, like the business of the king's court by which they
were commissioned, was primarily fiscal and secondarily
judicial. They were members of a central body that was at
once Exchequer and Curia Regis, in which financial functions
at first predominated ; and they were sent into the provinces
largely, if not primarily, for purposes of assessment : as in
stance the statement that in 1168, " the four Exchequer
officers who assessed the aid pur filU marier, acted not only
as taxers but as judges." In which facts we see harmony
with those before given, showing that support of the ruling
agency precedes obtainment of protection from it.
§ 527. With that development of a central government
which accompanies consolidation of small societies into a large
one, and with the consequent increase of its business, entailing
delegation of functions, there goes, in the judicial organiza
tion as in the other organizations, a progressive differen
tiation. The evidence of this is extremely involved; both
for the reason that in most cases indigenous judicial agencies
have been subordinated but not destroyed by those which
conquest has originated, and for the reason that kinds of
power, as well as degrees of power, have become distinguished.
A few leading traits only of the process can here be indicated.
The most marked differentiation, already partially implied,
is that between the lay, the ecclesiastical, and the military
tribunals. Erom those early stages in which the popular
assembly, with its elders and chief, condemned military de
faulters, decided on ecclesiastical questions, and gave judg
ments about offences, there has gone on a divergence which,
accompanied by disputes and struggles concerning jurisdiction,
has parted ecclesiastical courts and courts martial from the
courts administering justice in ordinary civil and criminal
eases. Just recognizing these cardinal specializations, we
may limit our attention to the further specializations which
have taken place within the last of the three structures.
506 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
Originally the ruler, with or without the assent of tlie
assembled people, not only decides : lie executes his deci
sions, or sees them executed. For example, in Dahomey the
king stands by, and if the deputed officer does not please
him, takes the sword out of his hand and shows him
how to cut off a head. An account of death-punishment
among the Bedouins ends with the words — " the executioner
being the sheikh himself." Our own early history affords
traces of personal executive action by the king ; for there
came a time when he was interdicted from arresting any
one himself, and had thereafter to do it in all cases by
deputy. And this interprets for us the familiar truth that,
through his deputies the sheriffs, who are bound to act
personally if they cannot themselves find deputies, the
monarch continues to be theoretically the agent who carries
the law into execution : a truth further implied by the fact
that execution in criminal cases, nominally authorized by
him though actually by his minister, is arrested if his assent
is withheld by his minister. And these facts imply that a
final power of judgment remains with the monarch, not
withstanding delegation of his judicial functions. How this
happens we shall see on tracing the differentiation.
Naturally, when a ruler employs assistants to hear com
plaints and redress grievances, he does not give them abso
lute authority ; but reserves the power of revising their
decisions. We see this even in such rude societies as that
of the Sandwich Islands, where one who is dissatisfied with
the decision of his chief may appeal to the governor, and
from the governor to the king; or as in ancient Mexico,
where " none of the judges were allowed to condemn to death
without communicating with the king, who had to pass the
sentence." And the principle holds where the political head
ship is compound instead of simple. " When the hegemony
of Athens became, in fact, more and more a dominion, the
civic body of Attica claimed supreme judicial authority over
all the allies. The federal towns only retained their lower
JUDICIAL AND EXECUTIVE SYSTEMS. 507
courts." Obviously by such changes are produced unlikenesses
of degree and differences of kind in the capacities of judicial
agencies. As political subordination spreads, the local
assemblies which originally judged and executed in cases of
all kinds, lose part of their functions; now by restriction
in range of jurisdiction, now by subjection of their decisions
to supervision, now by denial of executive power. To trace
up the process from early stages, as for instance from the
stage in which the old English tything-moot discharged
administrative, judicial, and executive functions, or from the
stage in which the courts of feudal nobles did the like,
is here alike impracticable and unnecessary. Reference to
such remnants of power as vestries and manorial courts
possess, will sufficiently indicate the character of the change.
But along with degradation of the small and local judicial
agencies, goes development of the great and central ones ;
and about this something must be said.
Eeturning to the time when the king with his servants
and chief men, surrounded by the people, administers justice
in the open air, and passing to the time when his court, held
more frequently under cover and consequently with less of
the popular element, still consists of king as president and
his household officers with other appointed magnates as coun
sellors (who in fact constitute a small and permanent part
of that general consultative body occasionally summoned) ;
we have to note two causes which cooperate to produce a
division of these remaining parts of the original triune body
^one cause being the needs of subjects, and the other the
desire of the king. So long as the king's court is held
wherever he happens to be, there is an extreme hindrance to
the hearing of suits, and much entailed loss of money and
time to suitors. To remedy this evil came, in our own
case, the provision included in the Great Charter that the
common pleas should no longer follow the king's court, but
be held in some certain place. This place was fixed in the
palace of Westminster. And then as Blackstonc points out —
508
POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
"This precedent was soon after copied by King Philip the Fair in
France, who about the year 1302, fixed the parliament of Paris to abide
constantly in that metropolis ; which before used to follow the person
of the king wherever he went . . . And thus also, in 1495, the Emperor
Maximilian I. fixed the imperial chamber, which before always travelled
with the court and household, to be constantly at Worms."
As a sequence of these changes it of course happens that
suits of a certain kind come habitually to be decided with
out the king's presence : there results a permanent transfer of
part of his judicial power. Again, press of business or
love of ease prompts the king himself to hand over such
legal matters as are of little interest to him. Thus in
France, while we read that Charles V., when regent, cat in
his council to administer justice twice a week, and Charles VI.
once, we also read that in 1370 the king declared he would
no longer try the smaller causes personally. Once initiated
and growing into a usage, this judging by commission, be
coming more frequent as affairs multiply, is presently other
wise furthered : there arises the doctrine that the king ought
not, at any rate in certain cases, to join in judgment. Thus
" at the trial of the duke of Brittany in 1378, the peers of
France protested against the presence of the king." Again
" at the trial of the Marquis of Saluces, under Francis I.,
that monarch was made to see that he could not sit." When
Lewis XIII. wished to be judge in the case of the Duke de
la Yalette, he was resisted by the judges, who said that it
was without precedent. And in our own country there came
a time when "James I. was informed by the judges that he
had the right to preside in the court, but not to express his
opinion :" a step towards that exclusion finally reached.
While the judicial business of the political head thus lapses
into the hands of appointed agencies, these agencies them
selves, severally parting with certain of their functions one to
another, become specialized. Among ourselves, even before
there took place the above-named separation of the per
manently-localized court of common pleas, from the king's
court which moved about with him, there had arisen within
JUDICIAL AND EXECUTIVE SYSTEMS. 509
the king's court an incipient differentiation. Causes concern
ing revenue were dealt with in sittings distinguished from
the general sittings of the king's court, by being held in
another room ; and establishment of this custom produced
a division. Adaptation of its parts to unlike ends led to
divergence of them; until, out of the original Curia Regis ,\\u\
come the court of exchequer and the court of common pleas ;
leaving behind the court of king's bench as a remnant of the
original body. When the office of justiciar (who, represent
ing the king in his absence, presided over these courts) was
abolished, the parting of them became decided ; and though,
for a length of time, competition for fees led to trenching on
one another's functions, yet, eventually, their functions
became definitely marked off. A further important
development, different but allied, took place. We have seen
that when appointing others to judge for him, the king
reserves the power of deciding in cases which the law
has not previously provided for, and also the power of
supervising the decisions made by his deputies. Naturally
this power comes to be especially used to over-ride deci
sions which, technically according to law, are practically
unjust: the king acquires an equity jurisdiction. At first
exercised personally, this jurisdiction is liable to be deputed ;
and in our own case was so. The chancellor, one of the
king's servants, who " as a baron of the exchequer and as a
leading member of the curia" had long possessed judicial func
tions, and who was the officer to present to the king petitions
concerning these "matters of grace and favour," became
presently himself the authority who gave decisions in equity
qualifying the decisions of law ; and thus in time resulted
the court of chancery. Minor courts with minor functions
also budded out from the original Curia Regis. This body
included the chief officers of the king's household, each of
whom had a jurisdiction in matters pertaining to his special
business ; and hence resulted the court of the chamberlain,
the court of the steward, the court of the earl marshal (now
510 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
at Herald's College), the court of the constable (no longer
extant), the court of the admiral, &c.
In brief, then, we find proofs that, little trace as its struc
ture now shows of such an origin, our complex judicial
system, alike in its supreme central parts and in its various
small local parts, has evolved by successive changes out of
the primitive gathering of people, head men, and chief,
§ 528. Were further detail desirable, there might here be
given an account of police-systems ; showing their evolution
from the same primitive triune body whence originate the
several organizations delineated in this and preceding chapters.
As using force to subdue internal aggressors, police are like
soldiers, who use force to subdue external aggressors ; and the
two functions, originally one, are not even now quite sepa
rated either in their natures or their agents. For besides
being so armed that they are in some countries scarcely dis
tinguishable from soldiers, and besides being subject to mili
tary discipline, the police are, in case of need, seconded by
soldiers in the discharging of their duties. To indicate the
primitive identity it will suffice to name two facts. During
the Merovingian period in France, armed bands of serfs,
attached to the king's household and to the households
of dukes, were employed both as police and for garrison pur
poses ; and in feudal England, the posse comitatus, consisting
of all freemen between fifteen and sixty, under command
of the sheriff, was the agent for preserving internal peace at
the same time that it was available for repelling invasions,
though not for foreign service — an incipient differentiation
between the internal and external defenders which became
in course of time more marked. Letting this brief indication
suffice, it remains only to sum up the conclusions above
reached.
Evidences of sundry kinds unite in showing that judicial
action and military action, ordinarily having for their common
end the rectification of real or alleged wrongs, are closely
JUDICIAL AND EXECUTIVE SYSTEMS. 511
allied at the outset. The sword is the ultimate resort in
either case : use of it being in the one case preceded by a
war of words carried on before some authority whose aid is
invoked, while in the other case it is not so preceded. As
is said by Sir Henry Maine, "the fact seems to be that
contention in Court takes the place of contention in aims,
but only gradually takes its place."
Thus near akin as the judicial and military actions origi
nally are, they are naturally at first discharged by the same
agency — the primitive triune body formed of chief, head men,
and people. This which decides on affairs of war and settles
questions of public policy, also gives judgments concerning
alleged wrongs of individuals and enforces its decisions.
According as the social activities develop one or other
element of the primitive triune body, there results one or
other form of agency for the administration of law. If
continued militancy makes the ruling man all-powerful, he
becomes absolute judicially as in other ways : the people lose
all share in giving decisions, and the judgments of the chief
men who surround him are overridden by his. If con
ditions favour the growth of the chief men into an oligarchy,
the body they form becomes the agent for judging and punish
ing offences as for other purposes : its acts being little or not
at all qualified by the opinion of the mass. While if the sur
rounding circumstances and mode of life are such as to
prevent supremacy of one man, or of the leading men, its
primitive judicial power is preserved by the aggregate of
freemen — or is regained by it where it re-acquires predomi
nance. And where the powers of these three elements are
mingled in the political organization, they are also mingled
in the judicial organization.
In those cases, forming the great majority, in which
habitual militancy entails subjection of the people, partial or
complete, and in which, consequently, political power and
judicial power come to be exercised exclusively by the several
orders of chief men, the judicial organization which arises as
512 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
the society enlarges and complicates, is officered by the
sacerdotal class, or the military class, or partly the one and
partly the other: their respective shares being apparently
dependent on the ratio between the degree of conscious
subordination to the human ruler and the degree of conscious
subordination to the divine ruler, whose will the priests are
supposed to communicate. But with the progress of indus
trialism and the rise of a class which, acquiring property and
knowledge, gains consequent influence, the judicial system
comes to be largely, and at length chiefly, officered by men
derived from this class ; and these men become distinguished
from their predecessors not only as being of other origin,
but also as being exclusively devoted to judicial functions.
While there go on changes of this kind, there go on
changes by which the origio ally-simple and comparatively-
uniform judicial system, is rendered increasingly complex.
Where, as in ordinary cases, there has gone along with
achievement of supremacy by the king, a monopolizing
of judicial authority by him, press of business presently
obliges him to appoint others to try causes and give judg
ments : subject of course to his approval. Already his court,
originally formed of himself, his chief men, and the sur
rounding people, has become supreme over courts constituted
in analogous ways of local magnates and their inferiors — so
initiating a differentiation ; and now by delegating certain of
his servants or assessors, at first with temporary commissions
to hear appeals locally, and then as permanent itinerant judges,
a further differentiation is produced. And to this are added
yet further differentiations, kindred in nature, by which other
assessors of his court are changed into the heads of
specialized courts, which divide its business among them.
Though this particular course has been taken in but a single
case, yet it serves to exemplify the general principle under
which, in one way or other, there arises out of the primitive
simple judicial body, a centralized and heterogeneous judicial
organization.
CHAPTER XIV.
LAWS.
§ 529. If, going back once more to the primitive horde, we
ask what happens when increase of numbers necessitates
migration — if we ask what it is which causes the migrating
part to fall into social arrangements like those of the parent
part, and to behave in the same way ; the obvious reply is
that the inherited natures of its members, regulated by the
ideas transmitted from the past, cause these results. That
guidance by custom which we everywhere find among rude
peoples, is the sole conceivable guidance at the outset.
To recall vividly the truth set forth in § 467, that the rudest
men conform their lives to ancestral usages, I may name such
further illustrations as that the Sandwich Islanders had
" a kind of traditionary code . . . followed by general con
sent;" and that by the Bechuanas, government is carried on
according to " long-acknowledged customs." A more specific
statement is that made by Mason concerning the Karens,
among whom <: the elders are the depositaries of the laws, both
moral and political, both civil and criminal, and they give
them as they receive them, and as they have been brought
down from past generations" orally. Here, however, we
have chiefly to note that this government by custom, persists
through long stages of progress, and even still largely in
fluences judicial administration. Instance the fact that as
late as the 14th century in France, an ordinance declared that
f< the whole kingdom is regulated by ' custom,' and it is as
POLITICAL INSTITUTION'S.
' custom* that some of our subjects make use of the written
la\v." Instance the fact that our own Common Law is mainly
an embodiment of the " customs of the realm," which have
gradually become established : its older part, nowhere existing
in the shape of enactment, is to be learnt only from text
books ; and even parts, such as mercantile law, elaborated in
modern times, are known only through reported judgments,
given in conformity with usages proved to have been pre
viously followed. Instance again the fact, no less signi
ficant, that at the present time custom perpetually re-appears
as a living supplementary factor ; for it is only after judges'
decisions have established precedents which pleaders after
wards quote, and subsequent judges follow, that the applica
tion of an act of parliament becomes settled. So that while
in the course of civilization written law tends to replace
traditional usage, the replacement never becomes complete.
And here we are again reminded that law, whether written
or unwritten, formulates the rule of the dead over the living.
In addition to that power which past generations exerciso
over present generations by transmitting their natures, bodily
and mental ; and in addition to the power they exercise over
them by bequeathed private habits and modes of life ; there
is this power they exercise through these regulations for
public conduct handed down orally or in writing. Among
savages and in barbarous societies, the authority of laws thus
derived is unqualified ; and even in advanced stages of civili
zation, characterized by much modifying of old laws and
making of new ones, conduct is controlled in a far greater
degree by the body of inherited laws than by those laws
which the living make.
I emphasize these obvious truths for the purpose of point
ing out that they imply a tacit ancestor-worship. I wish to
make it clear that when asking in any case — What is the
Law ? we are asking — What was the dictate of our fore
fathers ? And my object in doing this is to prepare the way
for showing that unconscious conformity to the dictates of the
LAWS. 515
dead, thus shown, is, in early stages, joined with conscious
conformity to their dictates.
§ 530. For along with development of the ghost-theory,
there arises the practice of appealing to ghosts, and to the gods
evolved from ghosts, for directions in special cases, in addi
tion to the general directions embodied in customs. There
come methods by which the will of the ancestor, or the dead
chief, or the derived deity, is sought ; and the reply given,
usually referring to a particular occasion, originates in some
cases a precedent, from which there results a law added to the
body of laws the dead have transmitted.
The seeking of information and advice from ghosts, takes
here a supplicatory and there a coercive form. The Veddahs,
who ask the spirits of their ancestors for aid, believe that
in dreams they tell them where to hunt ; and then we read
of the Scandinavian diviners, that they " dragged the ghosts
of the departed from their tombs and forced the dead to tell
them what would happen :" cases which remind us that
among the Hebrews, too, there were supernatural directions
given in dreams as well as information derived from invoked
spirits. This tendency to accept special guidance from the
dead, in addition to the general guidance of an inherited code,
is traceable in a transfigured shape even among ourselves ; for
besides conforming to the orally-declared wish of a deceased
parent, children are often greatly influenced in their conduct
by considering what the deceased parent would have desired
or advised: his imagined injunction practically becomes a
supplementary law.
Here, however, we are chiefly concerned with that more
developed form of such guidance which results where the
spirits of distinguished men, regarded with special fear and
trust, become deities. Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics reveal
two stages of it. The "Instructions" recorded by King
Bash'otephet are given by his father in a dream. " Son of the
Sun Amenemhat — deceased : — He says in a dream — unto his
92
516 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
son the Lord intact, — -he says rising up like a god : — >f Listen
to what I speak unto thee.'" And then another tablet
narrates how Thothmes IV, travelling when a prince, and
taking his siesta in the shade of the Sphinx, was spoken to in i
dream by that god, who said — "Look at me! ... Answer
me that you will do me what is in my heart " &c. ; and wheu
he ascended the throne, Thothmes fulfilled the injunction.
Analogous stages were well exemplified among the ancient
Peruvians. There is a tradition that Huayna Ccapac, wish
ing to marry his second sister, applied for assent to the dead
body of his father; "but the dead body gave no answer,
while fearful signs appeared in the heavens, portending
blood." Moreover, as before pointed out in § 477, " the Ynca
gave them (the vassals) to understand that all he did with
regard to them was by an order and revelation of his father,
the Sun." Turning to extant races, we see that in the Poly
nesian Islands, where the genesis of a pantheon by ancestor
worship is variously exemplified, divine direction is habitually
sought through priests. Among the Tahitians, one " mode by
which the god intimated his will/' was to enter the priest,
who then " spoke as entirely under supernatural influence."
Mariner tells us that in Tonga, too, when the natives wished
to consult -the gods, there was a ceremony of invocation; and
the inspired priest then uttered the divine command. Similar
beliefs and usages are described by Turner as. existing in
Samoa. Passing to another region, we find among the Todas
of the Indian hills, an appeal for supernatural guidance in
judicial matters.
" When any dispute arises respecting their wives or their buffaloes, it
has to be decided by the priest, who affects to become possessed by the
Bell-god, and . . . pronounces the deity's decision upon the point in
dispute."
These instances serve to introduce and interpret for us
those which the records of historic peoples yield. Taking
first the Hebrews, we have the familiar fact that the laws
for general guidance were supposed to be divinely communi
cated ; and we have the further fact that special directions
LAWS. 517
were often sought. Through the priest who accompanied
the army, the commander " inquired of the Lord " about any
military movement of importance, and sometimes received
very definite orders; as when, before a battle with the
Philistines, David is told to " fetch a compass behind them,
and come upon them over against the mulberry trees."
Sundry Ayran peoples furnish evidence. In common with
other Indian codes, the code of Manu, " accordiug to Hindoo
mythology, is an emanation from the supreme God." So,
too, was it with the Greeks. Not forgetting the tradition
that by an ancient Cretan king, a body of laws was brought
down from the mountain where Jupiter was said to be buried,
we may pass to the genesis of laws from special divine com
mands, as implied in the Homeric poems. Speaking of these
Grote says : —
" The appropriate Greek word for human laws never occurs : amidst a
very wavering phraseology, we can detect a gradual transition from the
primitive idea of a personal goddess, Themis, attached to Zeus, first to
his sentences or orders called Themistes, and next by a still farther
remove to various established customs which those sentences were
believed to sanctify — the authority of religion and that of custom
coalescing into one indivisible obligation."
Congruous in nature was the belief that " Lycurgus ob
tained not only his own consecration .to the office of legis
lator, but his laws themselves from the mouth of the Delphic
God." To which add that we have throughout later Greek
times, the obtainment of special information and direc
tion through oracles. Evidence that among the Romans there
had occurred a kindred process, is supplied by the story that
the ancient laws were received by Numa from the goddess
Egeria ; and that Numa appointed augurs by whose inter
pretation of signs the will of the gods was to be ascertained.
Even in the 9th century, under the Carolingians, there were
brought before the nobles " articles of law named capitula,
which the king himself had drawn up by the inspiration of
God."
Without following out the influence of like beliefs in later
518 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
times, as seen in trial by ordeal and trial by judicial
combat, in both of which God was supposed indirectly to
give judgment, the above evidence makes it amply manifest
that, in addition to those injunctions definitely expressed, or
embodied in usages tacitly accepted from seniors and
through them from remote ancestors, there are further in
junctions more consciously attributed to supernatural beings
— either the ghosts of parents and chiefs who were personally
known, or the ghosts of more ancient traditionally-known
chiefs which have been magnified into gods. Whence it
follows that originally, under both of its forms, law embodies
the dictates of the dead to the living.
§ 531. And here we are at once shown how it happens that
throughout early stages of social evolution, no distinction is
made between sacred law and secular law. Obedience to
established injunctions of whatever kind, originating in
reverence for supposed supernatural beings of one or other
order, it results that at first all these injunctions have the
same species of authority.
The Egyptian wall-sculptures, inscriptions, and papyri,
everywhere expressing subordination of the present to the
past, show us the universality of the religious sanction for
rules of conduct. Of the Assyrians Layard says : —
" The intimate connection between the public and private life of the
Assyrians and their religion, is abundantly proved by the sculptures.
... As among most ancient Eastern nations, not only all public and
social duties, but even the commonest forms and customs, appear to
have been more or less influenced by religion. . . . All his [the king's]
acts, whether in war or peace, appear to have been connected with the
national religion, and were believed to be under the special protection
and superintendence of the deity."
That among the Hebrews there existed a like connexion, is
conspicuously shown us in the Pentateuch ; where, besides
the commandments specially so-called, and besides religious
ordinances regulating feasts and sacrifices, the doings of the
priests, the purification by scapegoat, &c., there are numerous
LAWS. 519
directions for daily conduct — directions concerning kinds of
food and modes of cooking ; directions for proper farming in
respect of periodic fallows, not sowing mingled grain, &c. ;
directions for the management of those in bondage, male and
female, and the payment of hired labourers ; directions about
trade-transactions and the sales of lands and houses ; along
with sumptuary laws extending to the quality and fringes of
garments and the shaping of beards: instances sufficiently
showing that the rules of living, down even to small details,
had a divine origin equally with the supreme laws of con
duct. The like was true of the Ayrans in early stages.
The code of Manu was a kindred mixture of sacred and
secular regulations — of moral dictates and rules for carrying
on ordinary affairs. Says Tiele of the Greeks after the Doric
migration : — " No new political institutions, no fresh culture,
no additional games, were established without the sanction of
the Pythian oracle." And again we read —
" Chez les Grecs et chez les Eomains, comme chez les Hindous, la loi fut
d'abord une partie de la religion. Les anciens codes des cites etaient
un ensemble de rites de prescriptions liturgiques de prieres, en meme
temps que de dispositions legislatives. Les regies du droit de propriety
et du droit de succession y etaient eparses au milieu des regies des
sacrifices, de la sepulture et du culte des morts."
Originating in this manner, law acquires stability. Possess
ing a supposed supernatural sanction, its rules have a rigidity
enabling them to restrain men's actions in greater degrees
than could any rules having an origin recognized as natural.
They tend thus to produce settled social arrangements ; both
directly, by their high authority, and indirectly by limiting
the actions of the living ruler. As was pointed out in § 468,
early governing agents, not daring to transgress inherited
usages and regulations, are practically limited to interpreting
and enforcing them : their legislative power being exercised
only in respect of matters not already prescribed for. Thus
of the ancient Egyptians we read : — " It was not on his
[the king's] own will that his occupations depended, but on
those rules of duty and propriety which the wisdom of his
520 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
ancestors had framed, with a just regard for the welfare of
the king and of his people." And how persistent is this
authority of the sanctified past over the not-yet-sanctified
present, we see among ourselves, in the fact that every legis
lator has to bind himself by oath to maintain certain political
arrangements which our ancestors thought good for us.
While the unchangeableness of law, due to its supposed
sacred origin, greatly conduces to social order during those
early stages in which strong restraints are most needed, there
of course results an unadaptiveness which impedes progress
when there arise new conditions to be met. Hence come into
use those " legal fictions," by the aid of which nominal
obedience is reconciled with actual disobedience. Alike in
Roman law and in English law, as pointed out by Sir Henry
Maine, legal fictions have been the means of modifying
statutes which were transmitted as immutable ; and so fitting
them to new requirements : thus uniting stability with that
plasticity which allows of gradual transformation.
§ 532. Such being the origin and nature of laws, it becomes
manifest that the cardinal injunction must be obedience.
Conformity to each particular direction pre-supposes allegiance
to the authority giving it ; and therefore the imperativeness
of subordination to this authority is primary.
That direct acts of insubordination, shown in treason and
rebellion, stand first in degree of criminality, evidently fol
lows. This truth is seen at the present time in South
Africa. " According to a horrible law of the Zulu despots,
when a chief is put to death they exterminate also his sub
jects." It was illustrated by the ancient Peruvians, among
whom " a rebellious city or province was laid waste, and its
inhabitants exterminated ; " and again by the ancient Mexi
cans, by whom one guilty of treachery to the king " was put
to death, with all his relations to the fourth degree." A
like extension of punishment occurred in past times in Japan,
where, when " the offence is committed against the state,
LAWS. 521
punishment is inflicted upon the whole race of the offender.**
Of efforts thus wholly to extinguish families guilty of dis
loyalty, the Merovingians yielded an instance : king Gunt-
chram swore that the children of a certain rebel should be
destroyed up to the ninth generation. And these examples
naturally recall those furnished by Hebrew traditions. When
Abraham, treating Jahveh as a terrestrial superior (just as
existing Bedouins regard as god the most powerful living
ruler known to them) entered into a covenant under which,
for territory given, he, Abraham, became a vassal, circumcision
was the prescribed badge of subordination ; and the sole
capital offence named was neglect of circumcision, implying
insubordination : Jahveh olsewhere announcing himself as " a
jealous god," and threatening punishment " upon the children
unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me."
And the truth thus variously illustrated, that during stages in
which maintenance of authority is most imperative, direct dis
loyalty is considered the blackest of crimes, we trace down
through later stages in such facts as that, in feudal days, so
long as the fealty of a vassal was duly manifested, crimes,
often grave and numerous, were overlooked.
Less extreme in its flagitiousness than the direct dis
obedience implied by treason and rebellion, is, of course, the
indirect disobedience implied by breach of commands. This,
however, where strong rule has been established, is regarded
as a serious offence, quite apart from, and much exceeding, that
which the forbidden act intrinsically involves. Its greater
gravity was distinctly enunciated by the Peruvians, among
whom, says Garcilasso, " the most common punishment wag
death, for they said that a culprit was not punished for the
delinquencies he had committed, but for having broken the
commandment of the Ynca, who was respected as God." The
like conception meets us in another country where the ab
solute ruler is regarded as divine. Sir E. Alcock quotes
Thunberg to the effect that in Japan, " most crimes are
punished with death, a sentence which is inflicted with lesa
POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
regard to the magnitude of the crime than to the audacity of
the attempt to transgress the hallowed laws of the empire."
And then, beyond the criminality which disobeying the ruler
involves, there is the criminality involved by damaging the
ruler's property, where his subjects and their services belong
wholly or partly to him. In the same way that maltreating
a slave, and thereby making him less valuable, comes to be
considered as an aggression on his owner — in the same way
that even now among ourselves a father's ground for proceed
ing against a seducer is loss of his daughter's services ; so,
where the relation of people to monarch is servile, there arises
the view that injury done by one person to another, is injury
done to the monarch's property. An extreme form of this
view is alleged of Japan, where cutting and maiming of the
king's dependents " becomes wounding the king, or regicide."
And hence the general principle, traceable in European juris
prudence from early days, that a transgression of man against
man is punishable mainly, or in large measure, as a trans
gression against the State. It was thus in ancient Home :.
" every one convicted of having broken the public peace,
expiated his offence with his life." An early embodiment
of the principle occurs in the Salic law, under which " to the
wclirgeld is added, in a great number of cases, . . . the fred,
a sum paid to the king or magistrate, in reparation for the
violation of public peace;" and in later days, the fine paid
to the State absorbed the wehrgeld. Our own history simi
larly shows us that, as authority extends and strengthens, the
guilt of disregarding it takes precedence of intrinsic guilt.
" ' The king's peace ' was a privilege which attached to the
sovereign's court and castle, but which he could confer on
other places and persons, and which at once raised greatly
the penalty of misdeeds committed in regard to them."
Along with the growing check on the right of private revenge
for wrongs — along with the increasing subordination cf minor
and local jurisdictions — along with that strengthening of a
centiv.1 authority which these changes imply, " offences against
LAWS.
523
the law become offences against the king, and the crime of
disobedience a crime of contempt to be expiated by a special
sort of fine." And we may easily see how, where a ruler
gains absolute power, and especially where he has the prestige
of divine origin, the guilt of contempt comes to exceed ihe
intrinsic guilt of the forbidden act.
A significant truth may be added. On remembering that
Peru, and Japan till lately, above named as countries in
which the crime of disobedience to the ruler was considered
so great as practically to equalize the flagitiousness of all
forbidden acts, had societies in which militant organization,
carried to its extreme, assimilated the social government at
large to the government of an army ; we are reminded that
even in societies like our own, there is maintained in the
army the doctrine that insubordination is the cardinal
offence. Disobedience to orders is penal irrespective of the
nature of the orders or the motive for the disobedience ; and
an act which, considered in itself, is quite innocent, may be
visited with death if done in opposition to commands.
While, then, in that enforced conformity to inherited
customs which plays the part of law in the earliest stages, we
see insisted upon the duty of obedience to ancestois at large,
irrespective of the injunctions to be obeyed, which are
often trivial or absurd — while in the enforced conformity to
special directions given in oracular utterances by priests, or in
" themistes," &c., which form a supplementary source of law,
we see insisted upon the duty of obedience, in small things
as in great, to certain recognized spirits of the dead, or deities
derived from them ; we also see that obedience to the edicts
of the terrestrial ruler, whatever they may be, becomes, as his
power grows, a primary duty.
§ 533. "What has been said in the foregoing sections brings
out with clearness the truth that rules for the regulation of
conduct have four sources. Even in early stages we see that
beyond the inherited usages which have a quasi-religious sane-
POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
tion ; and beyond the special injunctions of deceased leaders,
which have a more distinct religious sanction ; there is some,
though a slight, amount of regulation derived from the will
of the predominant man ; and there is also the effect, vague
but influential, of the aggregate opinion. Not dwelling on the
first of these, which is slowly modified by accretions derived
from the others, it is observable that in the second we have
the germ of the law afterwards distinguished as divine ; that
in the third we have the germ of the law which gets its sanc
tion from allegiance to the living governor ; and that in the
fourth we have the germ of the law which eventually becomes
recognized as expressing the public wilL
Already I have sufficiently illustrated those kinds of laws
which originate personally, as commands of a feared invisible
ruler and a feared visible ruler. But before going further, it
will be well to indicate more distinctly the kind of law which
originates impersonally, from the prevailing sentiments and
ideas, and which we find clearly shown in rude stages before
the other two have become dominant. A few extracts will
exhibit it. Schoolcraft says of the Chippewayans —
" Thus, though they have no regular government, as every man is lord in
his own family, they are influenced more or less by certain principles
which conduce to their general benefit."
Of the unorganized Shoshones Bancroft writes —
" Every man does as he likes. Private revenge, of course, occasionally
overtakes the murderer, or, if the sympathies of the tribe be with the
murdered man, he may possibly be publicly executed, but there are no
fixed laws for such cases."
In like manner the same writer tells us of the Haidahs that —
" Crimes have no punishment by law ; murder is settled for with rela-
tives of the victim, by death or by the payment of a large sum ; and
soinetimes general or notorious offenders, especially medicine-men, are
put to death by an agreement among leading men."
Even where government is considerably developed, public
opinion continues to be an independent source of law. Ellis
Bays that —
M In cases of theft in the Sandwich Islands, those who had been robbed
retaliated upon the guilty party, by seizing whatever they could find j
LAWS. 525
and this mode of obtaining redress was so supported by public opinion,
that the latter, though it might be the stronger party, dare not offer
resistance."
By which facts we are reminded that where central authority
and administrative machinery are feeble, the laws thus inform
ally established by aggregate feeling are enforced by making
revenge for wrongs a socially-imposed duty ; while failure to
revenge is made a disgrace, and a consequent danger.' In
ancient Scandinavia, " a man's relations and friends who had
not revenged his death, would instantly have lost that repu
tation which constituted their principal security." So that,
obscured as this source of law becomes when the popular ele
ment in the triune political structure is entirely subordinated,
yet it was originally conspicuous, and never ceases to exist.
And now having noted the presence of this, along with the
other mingled sources of law, let us observe how the several
sources, along with their derived laws, gradually become
distinguished.
Recalling the proofs above given that where there has
been established a definite political authority, inherited from
apotheosized chiefs and made strong by divine sanction, ]aws
of all kinds have a religious character ; we have first to note
that a differentiation takes place between those regarded as
sacred and those recognized as secular. An illustration of
this advance is furnished us by the Greeks. Describing the
state of things exhibited in the Homeric poems, Grote re
marks that "there is no sense of obligation then existing,
between man and man as such — and very little between
each man and the entire community of which he is a member;"
while, at the same time, " the tie which binds a man to his
father, his kinsman, his guest, or any special promisee
towards whom he has taken the engagement of an oath, is
conceived in conjunction with the idea of Zeus, as witness
and guarantee :" allegiance to a divinity is the source of
obligation. But in historical Athens, " the great impersonal
authority called ' The Laws ' stood out separately, both as
526 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
guide and sanction, distinct from religious duty or private
sympathies." And at the same time there arose the distinc
tion between breach of the sacred law and breach of the
secular law : " the murderer came to be considered, first as
having sinned against the gods, next as having deeply injured
the society, and thus at once as requiring absolution and
deserving punishment." A kindred differentiation
early occurred in Rome. Though, during the primitive
period, the head of the State, at once king and high priest,
and in his latter capacity dressed as a god, was thus the
mouth-piece of both sacred law and secular law; yet, after
wards, with the separation of the ecclesiastical and political
authorities, carne a distinction between breaches of divine
ordinances and breaches of human ordinances. In the
words of Sir Henry Maine, there were "laws punishing
sins. There were also laws punishing torts. The con
ception of offence against God produced the first class of
ordinances ; the conception of offence against one's neighbour
produced the second ; but the idea of offence against the State
or aggregate community did not at first produce a true
criminal jurisprudence." In explanation of the last statement
it should, however, be added that since, during the regal
period, according to Mornmsen, "judicial procedure took the
form of a public or a private process, according as the king
interposed of his own motion, or only when appealed to by
the injured party;" and since "the former course was taken
only in cases which involved a breach of the public peace ;"
it must be inferred that when kingship ceased, there survived
the distinction between transgression against the individual
and transgression against the State, though the mode of
dealing with this last had not, for a time, a definite
fc im. Again, even among the Hebrews, more per
sistently theocratic as their social system was, we see a con
siderable amount of this change, at the same time that we
are shown one of its causes. The Mishna contains many
detailed civil laws ; and these manifestly resulted from the
LAWS. 527
growing complication of affairs. The instance is one showing
us that primitive sacred commands, originating as they do in
a comparatively undeveloped state of society, fail to cover
the cases which arise as institutions become involved. In
respect of these there consequently grow up rules having
a known human authority only. By accumulation of such
rules, is produced a body of human laws distinct from the
divine laws ; and the offence of disobeying the one becomes
unlike the offence of disobeying the other. Though
in Christianized Europe, throughout which the indigenous
religions were superseded by an introduced religion, the
differentiating process was interfered with; yet, on setting
out from the stage at which this introduced religion had
acquired that supreme authority proper to indigenous re
ligions, we see that the subsequent changes were of like
nature with those above described. Along with that mingling
of structures shown in the ecclesiasticisin of kings and the
secularity of prelates, there went a mingling of political and
religious legislation. Gaining supreme power, the Church
interpreted sundry civil offences as offences against God;
and even those which were left to be dealt with by the
magistrate were considered as thus left by divine ordi
nance. But subsequent evolution brought about stages
in which various transgressions, held to be committed
against both sacred and secular law, were simultaneously
expiated by religious penance and civil punishment ; and there
followed a separation which, leaving but a small remnant of
ecclesiastical offences, brought the rest into the category of
offences against the State and against individuals.
And this brings us to the differentiation of equal, if not
greater, significance, between those laws which derive their
obligation from the will of the governing agency, and those laws
which derive their obligation from the consensus of individual
interests — between those laws which, having as their direct end
the maintenance of authority, only indirectly thereby conduce
to social welfare, and those which, directly and irrespective
528 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
of authority, conduce to social welfare : of which last, law,
in its modern form, is substantially an elaboration. Already
I have pointed out that the kind of law initiated by the
consensus of individual interests, precedes the kind of law
initiated by political authority. Already I have said that
though, as political authority develops, laws acquire the shape
of commands, even to the extent that those original prin
ciples of social order tacitly recognized at the outset, come
to be regarded as obligatory only because personally enacted,
yet that the obligation derived from the consensus of indi
vidual interests survives, if obscured. And here it remains
to show that as the power of the political head declines — as
industrialism fosters an increasingly free population — as
the third element in the triune political structure, long sub
ordinated, grows again predominant ; there again grows pre
dominant this primitive source of law — the consensus of
individual interests. We have further to note that in its
re-developed form, as in its original form, the kind of law
hence arising has a character radically distinguishing it from
the kinds of law thus far considered. Both the divine
laws and the human laws which originate from personal
authority, have inequality as their common essential principle ;
while the laws which originate impersonally, in the consensus of
individual interests, have equality as their essential principle.
Evidence is furnished at the very outset. For what is this
lex talionis which, in the rudest hordes of men, is not only
recognized but enforced by general opinion ? Obviously, as
enjoining an equalization of injuries or losses, it tacitly
assumes equality of claims among the individuals concerned.
The principle of requiring "an eye for an eye and a tooth for
a tooth," embodies the primitive idea of justice everywhere :
the endeavour to effect an exact balance being sometimes
quite curious. Thus we read in Arbousset and Daumas : —
" A Basuto whose son had been wounded on the head with a staff, came
to entreat me to deliver up the offender, — ' with the same staff and on
the same spot where my son was beaten, will I give a blow on the head
of the man who did it.' "
LAWS. 529
A kindred effort to equalize in this literal way, the offence
and the expiation, occurs in Abyssinia ; where, when the
murderer is given over to his victim's family, "the nearest
of kin puts him to death with the same kind of weapon as
that with which he had slain their relative." As the last
case shows, this primitive procedure, when it does not assume
the form of inflicting injury for injury between individuals,
assumes the form of inflicting injury for injury between
families or tribes, by taking life for life. With the instances
given in § 522 may be joined one from Sumatra.
*' When in an affray [between families], there happen to be several
persons killed on both sides, the business of justice is only to state
the reciprocal losses, in the form of an account current, and order the
balance to be discharged if the numbers be unequal."
And then, from this rude justice which insists on a balancing
of losses between families or tribes, it results that so long as
their mutual injuries are equalized, it matters not whether
the blameable persons are or are not those who suffer ; and
hence the system of vicarious punishment — hence the fact that
vengeance is wreaked on any member of the transgressing
family or tribe. Moreover, ramifying in these various ways,
the principle applies where not life but property is con
cerned. Schoolcraft tells us that among the Dakotas, "injury
to property is sometimes privately revenged by destroying
other property in place thereof;" and among the Araucanians,
families pillage one another for the purpose of making their
losses alike. The idea survives, though changed in
form, when crimes come to be compounded for by gifts or
payments. Very early we see arising the alternative between
submitting to vengeance or making compensation. Kane
says of certain North American races, that " horses or other
Indian valuables " were accepted in compensation for murder.
"With the Dakotas " a present of white wampum," if accepted,
condones the offence. Among the Araucanians, homicides
" can screen themselves from punishment by a composition
with the relations of the murdered." Eecalling, as these few
instances do, the kindred alternatives recognized throughout
530 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
primitive Europe, they also make us aware of a significant
difference. For with the rise of class-distinctions in primitive
Europe, the rates of compensation, equal among members of
each class, had ceased to be equal between members of dif
ferent classes. Along with the growth of personally- derived
law, there had been a departure from the impersonally-
derived law as it originally existed.
But now the truth to be noted is that, with the relative
weakening of kingly or aristocratic authority and relative
strengthening of popular authority, there revives the partially-
suppressed kind of law derived from the consensus of indi
vidual interests ; and the kind of law thus originating tends
continually to replace all other law. For the chief business
of courts of justice at present, is to enforce, without respect of
persons, the principle, recognized before governments arose,
that all members of the community, however otherwise dis
tinguished, shall be similarly dealt with when they aggress
one upon another. Though the equalization of injuries by
retaliation is no longer permitted ; and though the Govern
ment, reserving to itself the punishment of transgressors, does
little to enforce restitution or compensation ; yet, in pur
suance of the doctrine that all men are equal before the law,
it has the same punishment for transgressors of every class.
And then in respect of unfulfilled contracts or disputed debts,
from the important ones tried at Assizes to the trivial ones
settled in County Courts, its aim is to maintain the rights and
obligations of citizens without regard for wealth or rank. Of
course in our transition state the change is incomplete. But
the sympathy with individual claims, and the consensus of
individual interests accompanying it, lead to an increasing
predominance of that kind of law which provides directly
for social order; as distinguished from that kind of law
which indirectly provides for social order by insisting on
obedience to authority, divine or human. With decline of
the r&jiriM of status and growth of the regime of contract,
personally-derived law more aiid more gives place to iinper-
LAWS, 531
sonally-derived law ; and this of necessity, since a formulated
inequality is implied by the compulsory cooperation of the
one, while, by the voluntary cooperation of the other, there is
implied a formulated equality.
So that, having first differentiated from the laws of sup
posed divine origin, the laws of recognized human origin
subsequently re-differentiate into those which ostensibly have
the will of the ruling agency as their predominant sanction,
and those which ostensibly have the aggregate of priv.'ite
interests as their predominant sanction ; of which two the last
tends, in the course of social evolution, more and more to
absorb the first. Necessarily, however, while militancy con
tinues, the absorption remains incomplete ; since obedience
to a ruling will continues to be in some cases necessary.
§ 534. A right understanding of this matter is so important,
that I must be excused for briefly presenting two further
aspects of the changes described : one concerning the accom
panying sentiments, and the other concerning the accompany
ing theories.
As laws originate partly in the customs inherited from the
undistinguished dead, partly in the special injunctions of the
distinguished dead, partly in the average will of the undis
tinguished living, and p irtly in the will of the distinguished
living, the feelings responding to them, allied though differ
ent, are mingled in proportions that vary under diverse cir
cumstances.
According to the nature of the society, one or other sanction
predominates ; and the sentiment appropriate to it obscures
the sentiments appropriate to the others, without, however,
obliterating them. Thus in a theocratic society, the crime of
murder is punished primarily as a sin against God ; but not
without there being some consciousness of its criminality as
a disobedience to the human ruler who enforces the divine
command, as well as an injury to a family, and, by implication,
to the community. Where, as among the Bedouins or in
93
532 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
Sumatra, there is no such supernaturally-derived injunction,
and no consequent reprobation of disobedience to it, the loss
entailed on the family of the victim is the injury recognized ;
and, consequently, murder is not distinguished from man
slaughter. Again, in Japan and in Peru, unqualified abso
luteness of the living ruler is, or was, accompanied by the
belief that the criminality of murder consisted primarily in
transgression of his commands ; though doubtless the establish
ment of such commands implied, both in ruler and people,
some recognition of evil, individual or general, caused by
breach of them. In ancient Kome, the consciousness of
injury done to the community by murder was decided ; and
the feeling enlisted on behalf of public order was that which
mainly enforced the punishment. And then among ourselves
when a murder is committed, the listener to an account of it
shudders not mainly because the alleged command of God
has been broken, nor mainly because there has been a breach
of " the Queen's peace ;" but his strongest feeling of repro
bation is that excited by the thought of a life taken away,
with which is joined a secondary feeling due to the diminution
of social safety which every such act implies. In these
different emotions which give to these several sanctions
their respective powers, we see the normal concomitants of
the social states to which such sanctions are appropriate.
More especially we see how that weakening of the sentiments
offended by breaches of authority, divine or human, which
accompanies growth of the sentiments offended by injuries
to individuals and the community, is naturally joined with
revival of that kind of law which originates in the consensus
of individual interests — the law which was dominant before
personal authority grew up, and which again becomes domi
nant as personal authority declines.
At the same time there goes on a parallel change of theory.
Along with a rule predominantly theocratic, there is current
a tacit or avowed doctrine, that the acts prescribed or for
bidden are made right or wrong solely by divine command ;
LAWS. 533
end though this doctrine survives through subsequent stages
(as it does still in our own religious world), yet belief in it
becomes nominal rather than real. Where there has been
established an absolute human authority, embodied in a
single individual, or, as occasionally, in a few, there comes
the theory that law has no other source than the will of this
authority : acts are conceived as proper or improper accord
ing as "they do or do not conform to its dictates. With
progress towards a popular form of government, this theory
becomes modified to the extent that though the obligation to
do this and refrain from that is held to arise from State^
enactment ; yet the authority which gives this enactment its
force is the public desire. Still it is observable that along
with a tacit implication that the consensus of individual
interests affords the warrant for law, there goes the overt
assertion that this warrant is derived from the formulated
will of the majority : no question being raised whether this
formulated will is or is not congruous with the consensus of
individual interests. In this current theory there obviously
survives the old idea that there is no other sanction for law
than the command of embodied authority ; though the autho
rity is now a widely different one.
But this theory, much in favour with * philosophical
politicians," is a transitional theory. The ultimate theory,
which it foreshadows, is that the source of legal obligation is
the consensus of individual interests itself, and not the will of
a majority determined by their opinion concerning it ; which
may or may not be right. Already, even in legal theory,
especially as expounded by French jurists, natural law or
law of nature, is recognized as a source of formulated law :
the admission being thereby made that, primarily certain in
dividual claims, and secondarily the Asocial welfare furthered
by enforcing such claims, furnish a warrant for law, ante-
ceding political authority and its enactments. Already in
the qualification of Common Law by Equity, which avowedly
proceeds upon the law of " honesty and reason and of nations?
POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
there is involved the pre-supposition that, as similarly-con*
stituted beings, men have certain rights in common, main
tenance of which, while directly advantageous to them in
dividually, indirectly benefits the community ; and that thus
the decisions of equity have a sanction independent alike of
customary law and parliamentary votes. Already in respect
of religious opinions there is practically conceded the right of
the individual to disobey the law, even though it expresses
the will of a majority. "Whatever disapproval there may be
of him as a law-breaker, is over-ridden by sympathy with his
assertion of freedom of judgment. There is a tacit recog
nition of a warrant higher than that of State-enactments,
whether regal or popular in origin. These ideas and feelings
are all significant of progress towards the view, proper to the
developed industrial state, that the justification for a law is
that it enforces one or other of the conditions to harmonious
social cooperation ; and that it is unjustified (enacted by no
matter how high an authority or how general an opinion) if
it traverses these conditions.
And this is tantamount to saying that the impersonally-
derived law which revives as personally-derived law declines,
and which gives expression to the consensus of individual
interests, becomes, in its final form, simply an applied system
of ethics — or rather, of that part of ethics which concerns
men's just relations with one another and with the community.
§ 535. Ke turning from this somewhat parenthetical dis
cussion, we might here enter on the development of laws, not
generally but specially ; exhibiting them as accumulating in
mass, as dividing and sub-dividing in their kinds, as becom
ing increasingly definite, as growing into coherent and com
plex systems, as undergoing adaptations to new conditions.
But besides occupying too much space, such an .exposition
would fall outside the lines of our subject. Present require
ments are satisfied by the results above set forth, which may
be summarized as follows.
LAWS.
535
Setting out with the truth, illustrated even in the very
rudest tribes, that the ideas conveyed, sentiments inculcated,
and usages taught, to children by parents who themselves
were similarly taught, eventuate in a rigid set of customs ; we
recognize the fact that at first, as to the last, law is mainly
an embodiment of ancestral injunctions.
To the injunctions of the undistinguished dead, which,
qualified by the public opinion of the living in cases not
prescribed for, constitute the code of conduct before any
political organization has arisen, there come to be added the
injunctions of the distinguished dead, when there have arisen
chiefs who, in some measure feared and obeyed during life,
after death give origin to ghosts still more feared and obeyed.
And when, during that compounding of societies effected
by war, such chiefs develop into kings, their remembered
commands and the commands supposed to be given by their
ghosts, become a sacred code of conduct, partly embodying
and partly adding to the code pre-established by custom.
The living ruler, able to legislate only in respect of matters
unprovided for, is bound by these transmitted commands of
the unknown and the known who have passed away ; save
only in cases where the living ruler is himself regarded as
divine, in which cases his injunctions become laws having
a like sacredness. Hence the trait common to societies in
early stages, that the prescribed rules of conduct of whatever
kind have a religious sanction. Sacrificial observances,
public duties, moral injunctions, social ceremonies, habits
of life, industrial regulations, and even modes of dressing,
stand on the same footing.
Maintenance of the unchangeable rules of conduct thus
originating, which is requisite for social stability during those
stages in which the type of nature is yet but little fitted for
harmonious social cooperation, pre-supposes implicit obedience;
and hence disobedience becomes the blackest crime. Treason
and rebellion, whether against the divine or the human ruler
bring penalties exceeding all others in severity. The breaking
536 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
of a law is punished not because of the intrinsic criminality of
the act committed, but because of the implied insubordina
tion. And the disregard of governmental authority continues,
through subsequent stages, to constitute, in legal theory, the
primary element in a transgression.
In societies that become large and complex, there arise forma
of activity and intercourse not provided for in the sacred code ;
and in respect of these the ruler is free to make regulations.
As such regulations accumulate there comes into exist
ence a body of laws of known human origin ; and though
this acquires an authority due to reverence for the men who
made it and the generations which approved it, yet it has not
the sacredness of the god-descended body of laws : human
law differentiates from divine law. But in societies which
remain predominantly militant, these two bodies of laws
continue similar in the respect that they have a personally-
derived authority. The avowed reason for obeying them is
that they express the will of a divine ruler, or the will of a
human ruler, or, occasionally, the will of an irresponsible
oligarchy.
But with the progress of industrialism and growth of a
free population which gradually acquires political power, the
humanly-derived law begins to sub-divide; and that part
which originates in the consensus of individual interests,
begins to dominate over the part which originates in the
authority of the ruler. So long as the social type is one
organized on the principle of compulsory cooperation, law,
having to maintain this compulsory cooperation, must be
primarily concerned in regulating status, maintaining in
equality, enforcing authority ; and can but secondarily con
sider the individual interests of those forming the mass.
But in proportion as the principle of voluntary cooperation
more and more characterizes the social type, fulfilment of
contracts and implied assertion of equality in men's lights,
become the fundamental requirements, and the consensus of
individual interests the chief source of law : such authority
LAWS. 537
as law otherwise derived continues to have, being recognized
as secondary, and insisted upon only because maintenance of
law for its own sake indirectly furthers the general welfare.
Finally, we see that the systems of laws belonging to these
successive stages, are severally accompanied by the senti
ments and theories appropriate to them; and that the
theories at present current, adapted to the existing compromise
between militancy and industrialism, are steps towards the
ultimate theory, in conformity with which law will have no
other justification than that gained by it as maintainer of the
conditions to complete life in the associated state.
CHAPTER XV.
PBOPEETY.
§ 5S6. The fact referred to in § 292, that even intelligent
animals display a sense of proprietorship, negatives the belief
propounded by some, that individual property was not recog
nized by primitive men. When we see the claim to exclusive
possession understood by a dog, so that he fights in defence
of his master's clothes if left in charge of them, it becomes
impossible to suppose that even in their lowest state men
were devoid of those ideas and emotions which initiate private
ownership. All that may be fairly assumed is that these
ideas and sentiments were at first IOBS developed than they
have since become.
It is true that in some extremely rude hordes, rights of pro
perty are but little respected. Lichtenstein tells us that
among the Bushmen, " the weaker, if he would preserve his
own life, is obliged to resign to the stronger, his weapons, his
wife, and even his children;" and there are some degraded
North American tribes in which there is no check on the
more powerful who choose to take from the less powerful :
their acts are held to be legitimized by success. But absence
of the idea of property, and the accompanying sentiment,
is no more implied by these forcible appropriations than it
is implied by the forcible appropriation which a bigger
schoolboy makes of the toy belonging to a less. It
is also true that even where force is not used, individual
PROPERTY. 539
claims are in considerable degrees over-ridden or imperfectly
maintained. We read of the Chippewayans that " Indian
law requires the successful hunter to share the spoils of the
chase with all present ;" and Hillhouse says of the Arawaks
that though individual property is " distinctly marked
amongst them," "yet they are perpetually borrowing and
lending, without the least care about payment." But such
instances merely imply that private ownership is at first ill-
defined, as we might expect, a priori, that it would be.
Evidently the thoughts and feelings which accompany the
act of taking possession, as when an animal clutches its prey,
and which at a higher stage of intelligence go along with the
grasping of any article indirectly conducing to gratification,
are the thoughts and feelings to which the theory of property
does but give a precise shape. Evidently the use in legal
documents of such expressions as " to have and to hold," and
to be "seized" of a thing, as well as the survival up to
comparatively late times of ceremonies in which a portion
(rock or soil) of an estate bought, representing the whole,
actually passed from hand to hand, point back to this
primitive physical basis of ownership. Evidently the de
veloped doctrine of property, accompanying a social state in
which men's acts have to be mutually restrained, is a
doctrine which on the one hand asserts the freedom to take
and to keep within specified limits, and denies it beyond
those limits — gives positiveness to the claim while restricting
it. And evidently the increasing definiteness thus given to
rights of individual possession, may be expected to show itself
first where definition is relatively easy and afterwards where
it is less easy. This we shall find that it does.
§ 537. While in early stages it is difficult, not to say impos
sible, to establish and mark off individual claims to parts of
the area wandered over in search of food, it is not difficult to
mark off the claims to movable things and to habitations ;
and these claims we find habitually recognized. The follow-
540 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
ing passage from Bancroft concerning certain Xorth American
savages, well illustrates the distinction : —
"Captain Cook found among the Ahts very 'strict notions of their
having a right to the exclusive property of everything that their
country produces,' so that they claimed pay for even wood, water, and
grass. The limits of tribal property are very clearly denned, but indi
viduals rarely claim any property in land. Houses belong to the men
who combine to build them. Private wealth consists of boats and
implements for obtaining food, domestic utensils, slaves, and blankets."
A like condition is shown us by the Comanches : —
" They recognize no distinct rights of meum and tuum, except to per
sonal property ; holding the territory they occupy, and the game that
depastures upon it, as common to all the tribe : the latter is appro
priated only by capture."
And the fact that among these Comanches, as among other
peoples, " prisoners of war belong to the captors, and may be
sold or released at their will," further shows that the right of
property is asserted where it is easily defined. Of the
Brazilian Indians, again, Von Martius tells us that, —
" Huts and utensils are considered as private property ; but even with
regard to them certain ideas of common possession prevail. The same
hut is often occupied by more families than one ; and many utensils are
the joint property of all the occupants. Scarcely anything is considered
strictly as the property of an individual except his arms, accoutrements,
pipe, and hammock."
Dr. Rink's account of the Esquimaux shows that among
them, too, while there is joint ownership of houses made
jointly by the families inhabiting them, there is separate
ownership of weapons, fishing boats, tools, etc. Thus it is
made manifest that private right, completely recognized
where recognition of it is easy, is partially recognized where
partial recognition only is possible — where the private rights
of companions are entangled with it. Instances of other
kinds equally prove that among savages claims to possession
are habitually marked off when practicable : if not fully, yet
partially. Of .the Chippewayans "who have no regular
government " to make laws or arbitrate, we yet read that, —
u In the former instance [when game is taken in inclosures by a nunt-
hig party], the game is divided among those who have been engaged iu
PROPERTY. 541
the pursuit of it. In the latter [when taken in private traps] it is con
sidered as private property; nevertheless, any unsuccessful hunter
passing by, may take a deer so caught, leaving the head, skin, and
saddle, for the owner."
In cases, still more unlike, but similar in the respect that
there exists an obvious connexion between labour expended
and benefit achieved, rude peoples re-illustrate this same
Individ ualization of property. Burckhardt tells us of the
Bedouins that wells " are exclusive property, either of a whole
tribe, or of individuals whose ancestors dug the wells."
Taken together such facts make it indisputable that in early
stages, private appropriation, carried to a considerable extent,
is not carried further because circumstances render extension
of it impracticable.
§ 538. Eecognition of this truth at once opens the way to
explanation of primitive land-ownership ; and elucidates the
genesis of those communal and family tenures which have
prevailed so widely.
While subsistence on wild food continues, the wandering
horde inhabiting a given area, must continue to make joint use
of the area; both because no claim can be shown by any
member to any portion, and because the marking out of small
divisions, if sharing were agreed upon, would be impracticable.
Where pastoral life has arisen, ability to drive herds hither
and thither within the occupied region is necessary. In the
absence of cultivation, cattle and their owners could not
survive were each owner restricted to one spot: there is
nothing feasible but united possession of a wide tract. And
when there conies a transition to the agricultural stage,
cither directly from the hunting stage or indirectly through
the pastoral stage, several causes conspire to prevent, or to
check, the growth of private land-ownership.
There is first the traditional usage. Joint ownership con
tinues after circumstances no longer render it imperative,
because departure from the sacred example of forefathers is
resisted. Sometimes the resistance is insuperable ; as with
542 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
the Rechabites and the people of Petra, who by their vov/
"were not allowed to possess either vineyards or corn
fields or houses " but were bound " to continue the nomadic
life." And obviously, where the transition to a settled state
is effected, the survival of habits and sentiments esta
blished during the nomadic state, must long prevent posses
sion of land by individuals. Moreover, apart from
opposing ideas and customs, there are physical difficulties
in the way. Even did any member of a pastoral horde which
had become partially settled, establish a claim to exclusive
possession of one part of the occupied area, little advantage
could be gained before there existed the means of keeping out
the animals belonging to others. Common use of the greater
part of the surface must long continue from mere inability
to set up effectual divisions. Only small portions can at first
be fenced off. Yet a further reason why land-owning
by individuals, and land-owning by families, establish them
selves very slowly, is that at first each particular plot has
but a temporary value. The soil is soon exhausted; and
in the absence of advanced arts of culture becomes useless.
Such tribes as those of the Indian hills show us that primitive
cultivators uniformly follow the practice of clearing a tract of
ground, raising from it two or three crops, and then abandon
ing it : the implication being that whatever private claim had
arisen, lapses, and the surface, again becoming wild, reverts to
the community.
Thus throughout long stages of incipient civilization, the
impediments in the way of private land-ownership are great
and the incentives to it small. Besides the fact that primitive
men, respecting the connexion between effort expended and
benefit gained, and therefore respecting the right of property
in things made by labour, recognize no claim thus estab
lished by an individual to a portion of land; and besides the
fact that in the adhesion to inherited usage and the inability
effectually to make bounds, there are both moral and physical
obstacles to the establishment of any such individual
PROPERTY. 543
monopoly ; there is the fact that throughout early stages
of settled life, no motive to maintain permanent private
possession of land comes into play. Manifestly, therefore, it
is not from conscious assertion of any theory, or in pur
suance of any deliberate policy, that tribal and communal
proprietorship of the areas 'occupied originate; but simply
from the necessities of the case.
Hence the prevalence among unrelated peoples of this
public ownership of land, here and there partially qualified
by temporary private ownership. Some hunting tribes of
North America show us a stage in which even the com
munal possession is still vague. Concerning the Dakotas
Schoolcraft says —
" Each village has a certain district of country they hunt in, but do not
object to families of other villages hunting with them. Among the
Dacotas, I never knew an instance of blood being shed in any disputes
or difficulties on the hunting grounds."
Similarly of the Comanches, he remarks that " no dispute
ever arises between tribes with regard to their hunting
grounds, the whole being held in common." Of the semi-
settled and more advanced Iroquois, Morgan tells us that —
"No individual could obtain the absolute title to land, as that was
vested by the laws of the Iroquois in all the people ; but he could
reduce unoccupied lands to cultivation to any extent he pleased ; and so
long as he continued to use them, his right to their enjoyment was pro
tected and secured."
Sundry pastoral peoples of South Africa show us the sur
vival of such arrangements under different conditions.
" The land which they [the Bechuanas] inhabit is the common pro
perty of the whole tribe, as a pasture for their herds."
" Being entirely a pastoral people, the Damaras have no notion of
permanent habitations. The whole country is considered public pro
perty. . . . There is an understanding that he who arrives first at any
given locality, is the master of it as long as he chooses to remain there."
Kaffir custom "does not recognize private property in the soil
beyond that of actual possession."
" No one possesses landed property " [among the Koosas] ; " he sowa
his corn wherever he can find a convenient spot."
And various of the uncivilized, who are mainly or wholly
544: POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
agricultural, exhibit but slight modifications of this usage.
Though by the New Zealanders some extra claim of the chief
is recognized, yet " all free persons, male and female, consti
tuting the nation, were proprietors of the soil:" there is a
qualified proprietorship of land, obtained by cultivation,
which does not destroy the proprietorship of the nation or
ti ibe. In Sumatra, cultivation gives temporary ownership but
nothing more. We read that the ground " on which a man
plants or builds, with the consent of his neighbours, becomes
a species of nominal property " ; but when the trees which
he has planted disappear in the course of nature, " the land
reverts to the public." From a distant region may be cited an
instance where the usages, though different in form, involve
the same principle. Among the modern Indians of Mexico —
" Only a house-place and a garden are hereditary ; the fields belong to
the village, and are cultivated every year without anything being paid
for rent. A portion of the land is cultivated in common, and the pro
ceeds are devoted to the communal expenses."
This joint ownership of land, qualified by individual owner
ship only so far as circumstances and habits make it easy to
mark off individual claims, leads to different modes of using
the products of the soil, according as convenience dictates.
Anderson tells us that in " Damara-land, the carcases of all
animals — whether wild or domesticated — are considered
public property." Among the Todas —
" Whilst the land is in each case the property of the village itself,
. . . the cattle which graze on it are the private property of individuals,
being males. . . . The milk of the entire herd is lodged in the palthchi,
village dairy, from which each person, male and female, receives for his
or her daily consumption ; the uncorisumed balance being divided, as
personal and saleable property, amongst the male members of all ages,
in proportion to the number of cattle which each possesses in the herd."
And then in some cases joint cultivation leads to a kindred
system of division.
" When harvest is over," the Congo people " put all the kidney-beans
into one heap, the Indian wheat into another, and so of other grain :
then giving the Macolonte [chief] enough for his maintenance, and laying
aside what they design for sowing, the rest is divided at so much to
PEOPERTY. 545
every cottage, according to the number of people each contains. Then
all the women together till and sow the land for a new harvest."
In Europe an allied arrangement is exhibited by the southern
Slavs. " The fruits of agricultural labour are consumed in
common, or divided equally among the married couples ; but
the produce of each man's industrial labour belongs to him
individually." Further, seme of the Swiss allmends show
us a partial" survival of this system ; for besides lands which
have become in large measure private, there are " communal
vineyards cultivated in common/' and "there are also cornlands
cultivated in the same manner," and "the fruit of their joint
labour forms the basis of the banquets, at which all the
members of the commune take part."
Thus we see that communal ownership and family owner
ship at first arose and long continued because, in respect of land,
no other could well be established. Records of the civilized
show that with them in the far past, as at present with the
uncivilized, private possession, beginning with movables,
extends itself to immovables only under certain conditions.
We have evidence of this in the fact named by Mayer, that
* the Hebrew language has no expression for ' landed pro
perty ; * " and again in the fact alleged by Mommsen of the
Romans, that " the idea of property was primarily associated
not with immovable estate, but with ' estate in slaves and
cattle/ " And if, recalling the circumstances of pastoral life,
as carried on alike by Semites and Ayrans, we remember that,
as before shown, the patriarchal group is a result of it ; we
may understand how, in passing into the settled state, there
would be produced such forms of land-tenure by the clan and
the family as, with minor variations, characterized primitive
European societies. It becomes conprehensible why among
the Romans " in the earliest times, the arable land was cul
tivated in common, probably by the several clans ; each of
these tilled its own land, and thereafter distributed the pro
duce among the several households belonging to it." We are
shown that there naturally arose such arrangements as those
54:6 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
of the ancient Teutonic mark — a territory held " by a primi
tive settlement of a family or kindred," each free male
member of which had " a right to the enjoyment of the
woods, the pastures, the meadow, and the arable land of the
mark ;" but whose right was " of the nature of usufruct or
possession only," and whose allotted private division became
each season common grazing land after the crop had been
taken off, while his more permanent holding was limited to
his homestead and its immediate surroundings. And we may
perceive how the community's ownership might readily, as
circumstances and sentiments determined, result here in an
annual use of apportioned tracts, here in a periodic re-par
titioning, and here in tenures of more permanent kinds, — still
subject to the supreme right of the whole public.
§ 539. Induction and deduction uniting to show, as they do,
that at first land is common property, there presents itself the
question — How did possession of it become individualized ?
There can be little doubt as to the general nature of the
answer. Force, in one form or other, is the sole cause
adequate to make the members of a society yield up their
joint claim to the area they inhabit. Such force may be that
of an external aggressor or that of an internal aggressor ; but
in either case it implies militant activity.
The first evidence of this which meets us is that the primi
tive system of land-ownership has lingered longest where
circumstances have been such as either to exclude war or
to minimize it. Already I have referred to a still-extant
Teutonic mark existing in Drenthe, " surrounded on all sides
by marsh and bog," forming " a kind of island of sand and
heath ;" and this example, before named as showing the sur
vival of free judicial institutions where free institutions at
large survive, simultaneously shows the communal land-
ownership which continues while men are unsubordinated.
After this typical case may be named one not far distant,
and somewhat akin — that, namely, which occurs "in the
PROPERTY. 547
sandy district of the Campine and beyond the Meuse, in
the Ardennes region," where there is great " want of commu-
nicati^n :" the implied difficulty of access and the poverty of
suriace making relatively small the temptation to invade.
So that while, says Laveleye, " except in the Ardennes,
the lord had succeeded in usurping the eminent domain,
VN ithout however destroying the inhabitants' rights of user,"
in the Ardennes itself, the primitive communal possession
survived. Other cases show that the mountainous character
of a locality, rendering subjugation by external or internal
force impracticable, furthers maintenance of this primitive
institution, as of other primitive institutions. In Switzerland,
and especially in its Alpine parts, the allmends above men
tioned, which are of the same essential nature as the Teutonic
marks, have continued down to the present day. Sundry
kindred regions present kindred facts. Ownership of land by
family-communities is still to be found " in the hill-districts
of Lombardy." In the poverty-stricken and mountainous por
tion of Auvergne, as also in the hilly and infertile depart
ment of Nievre, there are still, or recently have been, these
original joint-ownerships of land. And the general remark
concerning the physical circumstances in which they occur, is
that " it is to the wildest and most remote spots that we
must go in search of them" — a truth again illustrated
" in the small islands of Hoedic and Honat, situated not far
from Belle Isle" on the French coast, and also incur own
islands of Orkney and Shetland.
Contrariwise, we find that directly by invasion, and in
directly by the chronic resistance to invasion which gene
rates those class-inequalities distinguishing the militant type,
there is produced individualization of land-ownership, in one
or other form. All the world over, conquest gives a posses
sion that is unlimited because there is no power to dispute
it. Along with other spoils of war, the land becomes a spoil ;
and, according to the nature of the conquering society, is
owned wholly by the despotic conqueror, or, partially and iu
94
548 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
dependent ways, by his followers. Of the first result there
are many instances. " The kings of Abyssinia are above all
laws . . . the land and persons of their subjects are equally
their property." " In Kongo the king hath the sole property
of goods and lands, which he can grant away at pleasure/1
And § 479 contains sundry other examples of militant socie
ties in which the monarch, otherwise absolute, is absolute
possessor of the soil. Of the second result instances were
given in § 458 ; and I may here add some others. Ancient
Mexico supplies one.
" Montezuma possessed in most of the villages . . . and especially in
those he had conquered, fiefs which he distributed among those called
* the gallant fellows of Mexico.3 These were men who had distinguished
themselves in war."
Under a more primitive form the like was done in Iceland by
the invading Norsemen.
" When a chieftain had taken possession of a district, he allotted to
each of the freemen who accompanied him a certain portion of land,
erected a temple (hof ), and became, as he had been in Norway, the
chief, the pontiff, and the judge of the herad."
But, as was shown when treating of political differentia
tion, it is not only by external aggressors that the joint pos
session by all freemen of the area they inhabit is over-ridden.
It is over-ridden, also, by those internal aggressors whose
power becomes great in proportion as the militancy of the
society becomes chronic. With the personal subordination
generated by warfare, there goes such subordination of owner
ship, that lands previously held absolutely by the community,
come to be held subject to the claims of the local magnate;
until, in course of time, the greater part of the occupied area
falls into his exclusive possession, and only a small part con
tinues to be common property.
To complete the statement it must be added that occasion
ally, though rarely, the passing of land into private hands
takes place neither by forcible appropriation, nor by the gra
dual encroachment of a superior, but by general agieement
Where there exists that form of communal ownership undei
PROPEBTY. 549
which joint cultivation is replaced by separate cultivation of
parts portioned out — where there results from this a system
of periodic redistribution, as of old in certain Greek states, as
among the ancient Suevi, and as even down to our own times
in some of the Swiss allmends ; ownership of land by indi
viduals may and does arise from cessation of the redistribu
tion. Says M. de Laveleye concerning the Swiss allmends —
"in the work of M. Rowalewsky, we see how the communal
lands became private property by the periodic partitioning
becoming more and more rare, and finally falling into
desuetude/* When not otherwise destroyed, land-owning by
the commune tends naturally to end in this way. For besides
the inconveniences attendant on re-localization of the mem
bers of the commune, positive losses must be entailed by it
on many. Out of the whole number, the less skilful and less
diligent will have reduced their plots to lower degrees of
fertility ; and the rest will have a motive for opposing a re
distribution which, depriving them of the benefits of past
labours, makes over these or parts of them to the relatively
unworthy. Evidently this motive is likely, in course of
time, to cause refusal to re-divide; and permanent private
possession will result.
§ 540. An important factor not yet noticed has cooperated
in individualizing property, both movable and fixed ; namely,
the establishment of measures of quantity and value. Only
the rudest balancing of claims can be made before there come
into use appliances for estimating amounts. At the outset,
ownership exists only in respect of things actually made or
obtained by the labour of the owner; and is therefore nar
rowly limited in range. But when exchange arises and
spreads, first under the inde finite form of barter and then
under the definite form of sale and purchase by means of a
circulating medium, it becomes easy for ownership to extend
itself to other things. Observe how clearly this extension
depends on the implied progress of industrialism.
550 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
It was pointed out in § 319 that during the pastoral stage,
it is impracticable to assign to each member of the family-
community, or to each of its dependents, such part of the pro
duce or other property as is proportionate to the value of his
labour. Though in the case of Jacob and Laban the bargain
made for services was one into which some idea of equiva
lence entered, yet it was an extremely rude idea ; and by no
such bargains could numerous transactions, or transactions of
smaller kinds, be effected. On asking what must happen
when the patriarchal group, becoming settled, assumes one or
other enlarged form, we see that reverence for traditional
usages, and the necessity of union for mutual defence, con
spire to maintain the system of joint production and joint
consumption : individualization of property is still hindered.
Though under such conditions each person establishes private
ownership in respect of things on which he has expended
separate labour, or things received in exchange for such
products of his separate labour ; yet only a small amount of
property thus distinguished as private, can be acquired. The
greater part of his labour, mixed with that of others, brings
returns inseparable from the returns of their labours ; and the
united returns must therefore be enjoyed in common. But
as fast as it becomes safer to dispense with the protection of
the family-group ; and as fast as increasing commercial inter
course opens careers for those who leave their groups ; and as
fast as the use of money and measures gives definiteness to
exchanges ; there come opportunities for accumulating indi
vidual possessions, as distinguished from joint possessions.
And since among those who labour together and live together,
there will inevitably be some who feel restive under the
imposed restraints, and also some (usually the same) who
feel dissatisfied with the equal sharing among those whose
labours are not of equal values ; it is inferable that these
opportunities will be seized : private ownership will spread
at the expense of public ownership. Some illustrations
may be given. Speaking of the family-communities of the
PROPERTY. 551
Southern Slavs, mostly in course of dissolution, M. de
Laveleye says —
" The family-group was far more capable of defending itself against the
severity of Turkish rule than were isolated individuals. Accordingly,
it is in this part of the southern Slav district that family-communities
are best preserved, and still form the basis of social order."
The influence of commercial activity as conducing to dis
integration, is shown by the fact that these family-commu
nities ordinarily hold together only in rural districts.
" In the neighbourhood of the towns the more varied life has weakened
the ancient family-sentiment. Many communities have been dissolved,
their property divided and sold, and their members have degenerated
into mere tenants and proletarians."
And then the effect of a desire, alike for personal independ
ence and for the exclusive enjoyment of benefits consequent
on superiority, is recognized in the remark that these family-
communities —
" cannot easily withstand the conditions of a society in which men are
striving to improve their own lot, as well as the political and social
organization under which they live. . . . Once the desire of self -aggran
disement awakened, man can no longer support the yoke of the zadruga.
... To live according to his own will, to work for himself alone, to
drink from his own cup, is now the end preeminently sought."
That this cause of disintegration is general, is implied by
passages concerning similar communities still existing in the
hill-districts of Lombardy — that is, away from the centres of
mercantile activity. Growing averse to the control of the
house-futhers, the members of these communities say —
" ' Why should we and all our belongings remain in subjection to a
master ? It were far the best for each to work and think for himself.
As the profits derived from any handicraft form a sort of private
yecidium, the associates are tempted to enlarge this at the expense of
the common revenue." And then " the craving to live independently
carries him away, and he quits the community."
All which evidence shows that the progress of industrialism
is the general cause of this growing individualization of pro
perty ; for such progress is pre-supposed alike by the greater
security which makes it safe to live separately, by the in-
552 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
creased opportunity for those sales which further the accu
mulation of a peculium, and by the use of measures of
quantity and value : these being implied primarily by such
sales, and secondarily by the sale and division of all that has
been held in common.
Spread of private ownership, which thus goes along with
decay of the system of status and growth of the system
of contract, naturally passes on from movable property to
fixed property. For when the multiplication of trading
transactions has made it possible for each member of a
family-community to accumulate a peculium ; and when the
strengthening desire for individual domestic life has im
pelled the majority of the community to sell the land which
they have jointly inherited ; the several portions of it,
whether sold to separate members of the body or to strangers,
are thus reduced by definite agreement to the form of indi
vidual properties; and private ownership of land thereby
acquires a character apparently like that of other private
ownership. In other ways, too, this result is furthered
by developing industrialism. If, omitting as not relevant
the cases in which the absolute ruler allows no rights of pro
perty, landed or other, to his subjects, we pass to the cases in
which a conqueror recognizes a partial ownership of land by
those to whom he has parcelled it out on condition of render
ing services and paying dues, we see that the private land-
ownership established by militancy is an incomplete one. It
has various incompletenesses. The ownership by the suzerain
is qualified by the rights he has made over to his vassals ;
the rights of the vassals are qualified by the conditions of
their tenure ; and they are further qualified by the claims of
serfs and other dependents, who, while bound to specified
services, have specified shares of produce. But with the
decline of militancy and concomitant disappearance of vassal
age, the obligations of the tenure diminish and finally almost
lapse out of recognition ; while, simultaneously, abolition of
serfdom destroys or obscures the other claims which qualified
PROPERTY. 553
private land-ownership.* As both changes are accompani
ments of a developing industrialism, it follows that in these
ways also, the individualization of property in land is
furthered by it.
At first sight it seems fairly inferable that the absolute
ownership of land by private persons, must be the ultimate
state which industrialism brings about. But though indus
trialism has thus far tended to individualize possession of
land, while individualizing all other possession, it may be
doubted whether the final stage is at present reached.
Ownership established by force does not stand on the same
footing as ownership established by contract ; and though
multiplied sales and purchases, treating the two ownerships
in the same way, have tacitly assimilated them, the assimi
lation may eventually be denied. The analogy furnished
by assumed rights of possession over human beings, helps
us to recognize this possibility. For while prisoners of war,
taken by force and held as property in a vague way (being at
first much on a footing with other members of a household),
were reduced more definitely to the form of property when
the buying and selling of slaves became general ; and while
it might, centuries ago, have been thence inferred that the
ownership of man by man was an ownership in course of
being permanently established ; yet we see that a later stage
of civilization, reversing this process, has destroyed owner
ship of man by man. Similarly, at a stage still more advanced
it may be that private ownership of land will disappear. As
that primitive freedom of the individual which existed before
war established coercive institutions and personal slavery,
comes to be re-established as militancy declines ; so it seems
possible that the primitive ownership of land by the com
munity, which, with the development of coercive institutions,
lapsed in large measure or wholly into private ownership, will
* In our own case the definite ending of these tenures took place in 1C60 ;
\vhen, for feudal obligations (a burden on landowners) was substituted ?i
beer-excise (a burden on the community).
554 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
be revived as industrialism further develops. The regime of
contract, at present so far extended that the right of property
in movables is recognized only as having arisen by exchange
of services or products under agreements, or by gift from those
who had acquired it under such agreements, may be further
extended so far that the products of the soil will be recog
nized as property only by virtue of agreements between indi
viduals as tenants and the community as landowner. Even
now, among ourselves, private ownership of land is not abso
lute. In legal theory landowners are directly or indirectly
tenants of the Crown (which in our day is equivalent to the
State, or, in other words, the Community); and the Community
from time to time resumes possession after making due com
pensation. Perhaps the right of the Community to the
land, thus tacitly asserted, will in time to come be overtly
asserted ; and acted upon after making full allowance for the
accumulated value artificially given.
§ 541. The rise and development of arrangements which
fix and regulate private possession, thus admit of tolerably
clear delineation.
The desire to appropriate, and to keep that which has been
appropriated, lies deep, not in human nature only, but in
animal nature : being, indeed, a condition to survival. The
consciousness that conflict, and consequent injury, may pro
bably result from the endeavour to take that which is held
by another, ever tends to establish and strengthen the custom
of leaving each in possession of whatever he has obtained by
labour ; and this custom takes among primitive men the shape
of an overtly-admitted claim.
This claim to private ownership, fully recognized in respect
of movables made by the possessor, and fully or partially
recognized in respect of game killed on the territory over
which members of the community wander, is not recognized
in respect of this territory itself, or tracts of it. Property is
individualized as far as circumstances allow individual claims
PROPERTY. 555
to be marked off with some definiteness ; but it is not indi
vidualized in respect of land, because, under the conditions,
no individual claims can be shown, or could be effectually
marked off were they shown.
With the passage from a nomadic to a settled state, owner
ship of land by the community becomes qualified by indi
vidual ownership; but only to the extent that those who
clear and cultivate portions of the surface have undisturbed
enjoyment of its produce. Habitually the public claim sur
vives ; and either when, after a few crops, the cleared tract
is abandoned, or when, after transmission to descendants, it
has ceased to be used by them, it reverts to the community.
And this system of temporary ownership, congruous with
the sentiments and usages inherited from ancestral nomads,
is associated also with an undeveloped agriculture : land
becoming exhausted after a few years.
Where the patriarchal form of organization has been
carried from the pastoral state into the settled state, and,
sanctified by tradition, is also maintained for purposes of
mutual protection, possession of land partly by the cian and
partly by the family, long continues ; at the same time that
there is separate possession of things produced by separate
labour. And while in some cases the communal land-
ownership, or family land-ownership, survives, it in other
cases yields in various modes and degrees to qualified forms
of private ownership, mostly temporary, and subject to
supreme ownership by the public.
But war, both by producing class-differentiations within
each society, and by effecting the subjugation of one society
by another, undermines or destroys communal proprietorship
of land ; and partly or wholly substitutes for it, either the
unqualified proprietorship of an absolute conqueror, or pro
prietorship by a conqueror qualified by the claims of vassals
holding it under certain conditions, while their claims are
in turn qualified by those of dependents attached to the soil.
That is to say, the system of status which militancy develops,
556 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
involves a graduated ownership of land as it does a graduated,
ownership of persons.
Complete individualization of ownership is an accompani
ment of industrial progress. From the beginning, things
identified as products of a man's own labour are recognized
as his ; and throughout the course of civilization, communal
possession and joint household living, have not excluded the
recognition of a peculium obtained by individual effort. Accu
mulation of movables privately possessed, arising in this way,
increases as militancy is restrained by growing industrialism ;
because this pre-supposes greater facility for disposing of
industrial products ; because there come along with it
measures of quantity and value, furthering exchange ; and
because the more pacific relations implied, render it safer
for men to detach themselves from the groups in which they
previously kept together for mutual protection. The indi
vidualization of ownership, extended and made more definite
by trading transactions under contract, eventually affects
the ownership of land. Bought and sold by measure and for
money, land is assimilated in this respect to the personal
property produced by labour ; and thus becomes, in the
general apprehension, confounded with it. But there is
reason to suspect that while private possession of things pro
duced by labour, will grow even more definite and sacred than
at present ; the inhabited area, which cannot be produced by
labour, will eventually be distinguished as something which
may not be privately possessed. As the individual, primitively
owner of himself, partially or wholly loses ownership of him
self during the militant regime, but gradually resumes it as
the industrial regime develops ; so, possibly, the communal
proprietorship of land, partially or wholly merged in the
ownership of dominant men during evolution of the militant
type, will be resumed as the industrial type becomes fully
evolved.
CHAPTER XVI.
REVENUE.
§ 542. Broadly dividing the products of men's labours into
the part which remains with them for private purposes and
the part taken from them for public purposes ; and recog
nizing the truism that the revenue constituted by this last
part must increase with the development of the public organi
zation supported by it ; we may be prepared for the fact that
in early stages of social evolution, nothing answering to
revenue exists.
The political head being at first distinguished from other
members of the community merely by some personal supe
riority, his power, often recognized only during war, is,
if recognized at other times, so slight as to bring him no mate
rial advantage. Habitually in rude tribes he provides for
himself as a private man. Sometimes, indeed, instead of
gaining by his distinction he loses by it. Among the Dako-
tas " the civil-chiefs and war-chiefs are distinguished from
the rest by their poverty. They generally are poorer clad
than any of the rest." A statement concerning the Abipones
shows us why this occasionally happens.
" The cacique has nothing, either in his arms or his clothes, to distin
guish him from a common man, except the peculiar oldness and shabbi-
n^ss of them ; for if he appears in the streets with new and handsome
apparel, . . . the first person he meets will boldly cry, Give me that
dress . . . and unless he immediately parts with it, he becomes the
Beoff and the scorn of all, and hears himself called covetous."
Among the Patagonians the burdens entailed by relieving
und protecting inferiors, lead to abdication. Many " born
558 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
Caciques refuse to have any vassals ; as they cost them dear,
and yield but little profit."
Generally, however, and always where war increases his
piedominance, the leading warrior begins to be distinguished
by wealth accruing to him in sundry ways. The superiority
which gains him supremacy, implying as it mostly does
greater skill and energy, conduces to accumulation : not
uncommonly, as we have seen, (§ 472) the primitive chief is
also the rich man. And this possession of much private
property grows into a conspicuous attribute when, in the
settled state, land held by the community begins to be appro
priated by its more powerful members. Eulers habitually
become large landowners. In ancient Egypt there were royal
lands. Of the primitive Greek king we read that " an ample
domain is assigned to him [? taken by him] as an appur
tenance of his lofty position." And among other peoples in
later times, we find the monarch owning great estates. The
income hence derived, continues to the last to represent that
revenue which the political head originally had, when he
began to be marked off from the rest only by some personal
merit.
Such larger amount of private means as thus usually dis
tinguishes the head man at the outset, augments as successful
war, increasing his predominance, brings him an increasing
portion of the spoils of conquered peoples. In early stages it
is the custom for each warrior to keep whatever he personally
takes in battle ; while that which is taken jointly is in some
cases equally divided. But of course the chief is apt to get
an extra share ; either by actual capture, or by the willing
award of his comrades, or, it may be, by forcible appropriation.
And as his power grows, this forcible appropriation is yielded
to, sometimes tacitly, sometimes under protest; as we are
shown by the central incident in the Iliad. Through later
stages his portion of plunder, reserved before division of the
remainder among followers, continues to be a source of
revenue. And where he becomes absolute, the property taken
REVENUE. 559
from the vanquished, lessened only by such portions as he
gives in reward for services, augments his means of sup
porting his dependents and maintaining his supremacy.
To these sources of income which may be classed as inci
dental, is simultaneously added a source which is constant.
When predominance of the chief has become so decided that
he is feared, he begins to receive propitiatory presents;
at first occasionally and afterwards periodically. Already in
§§ 369-71, when treating of presents under their ceremo
nial aspects, I have given illustrations ; and many more
may be added. Describing the king among the Homeric
Greeks, Grote writes— "Moreover he receives frequent pre
sents, to avert his enmity, to conciliate his favour, or to
buy off his exactions." So, too, of the primitive German's,
we are told by Tacitus that "it is the custom of the
states to bestow by voluntary and individual contribution
on the chiefs, a present of cattle or of grain, which, while
accepted as a compliment, supplies their wants." And gifts
to the ruler voluntarily made to obtain good will, or prevent
ill will, continue to be a source of revenue until quite late
stages. Among ourselves "during the reign of Elizabeth,
the custom of presenting Xew Year's gifts to the sovereign
was carried to an extravagant height ;" and even " in the
reign of James I. the money gifts seem to have been con
tinued for some time."
Along with offerings of money and goods there go offerings
of labour. Not unfrequently Ln primitive communities, it is the
custom for all to join in building a new house or clearing a plot
of ground for one of their number : such benefits being recipro
cated. Of course the growing predominance of a political
head, results in a more extensive yielding of gratuitous labour
for his benefit, in these and other ways. The same motives
which prompt gifts to the ruler prompt offers of help to him
more than to other persons ; and thus the custom of working
for him grows into a usage. We read of the village chief
among the Guaranis that "his subjects cultivated for him
560 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
his plantation, and he enjoyed certain privileges on divi
sion of the spoils of the chase. Otherwise he possessed no
marks of distinction." And the like practice was followed
by some historic races during early stages. In ancient Eome
it was " the privilege of the king to have his fields tilled by
taskwork of the burgesses."
§ 543. Growth of the regular and definite out of the irre
gular and indefinite, variously exemplified in the foregoing
chapters, is here again exemplified very clearly. For, as
already said, it is from propitiatory presents and services, at
first spontaneous and incidentaf, that there eventually come
taxes specified in their amounts and times of payment.
It needs but to observe how such a custom as that of
making wedding-presents has acquired a partially coercive
character, to understand how, when once there begins the
practice of seeking the good will of the headman by a gift,
this practice is apt to be established. One having gained by
it, another follows his example. The more generally the
example is followed the greater becomes the disadvantage to
those who do not follow it. Until at length all give because
none dare stand conspicuous as exceptions. Of course if
some repeat the presents upon such occasions as first prompted
them, others have to do the like ; and at length the periodic
obligation becomes so peremptory, that the gift is demanded
when it is not offered. In Loango, where presents are expected
from all free subjects, "if the king thinks they do not give
enough, he sends slaves to their places to take what they
have." Among the Tongans, who from time to time give their
king or chief " yams, mats, gnatoo, dried fish, live birds, &c.,M
the quantity is determined " generally by the will of eacli
individual, who will always take care to send as much as he
can well afford, lest the superior chief should be offended
with him, and deprive him of all that he has." At the
present time in Cashmere, at the spring festival, " it is the
custom ... for the Maharajah's servants to bring him a
REVENUE. 561
nazar, a present. . . . This has now become so regulated that
every one is on these days [festivals] obliged to give from a
10th to a 12th of his monthly pay. . . . The name of each is
read from a list, and the amount of his nazar is marked
down : those that are absent will have the sum deducted
from their pay." Traces of a like transition are seen in the
fact that in ancient times crowns of gold, beginning as
jrifts made by dependent states to Eastern rulers, and by
Eoman provinces to generals or pro-consuls, became sums of
money demanded as of right ; and again in the fact that in
our o\\n early history, we read of "exactions called benevo
lences."
Similarly with the labour which, at first voluntarily given
to the chief, comes, as his power grows, to be compulsory.
Here are some illustrations showing stages in the transition.
A Kafir chief " summons the people to cultivate his gardens, reap hia
crops, and make his fences ; but in this, as in other respects, he has to
consult the popular will, and hence the manual labour required by
the chiefs has always been of very limited duration."
In the Sandwich Islands, " when a chief wants a house, he requires
the labour of all who hold lands under him. . . . Each division of the
people has a part of the house allotted by the chief in proportion to its
number."
In ancient Mexico "the personal and common service which fur
nished the water and wood required every day in the houses of the
chiefs, was distributed from day to day among the villages and quar
ters."
It was the same in Yucatan : " the whole community did the sowing
for the lord, looked after the seed, and harvested what was required
for him and his house."
So in the adjacent regions of Guatemala and San Salvador,
" the tribute was paid by means of the cultivation of estates."
And in Madagascar " the whole population is liable to be
employed on government work, without remuneration, and
for any length of time."
Occurring among peoples unallied in blood and unlike in
their stages of civilization, these facts show the natural
growing up of a forced labour system such as that which
existed iuring feudal times throughout Europe, when laboui
562 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
was exacted from dependents by local rulers, and became
also a form of tribute to the central ruler ; as instance the
specified numbers of days' work which, before the Eevolution,
had to be given by French peasants to the State under the
name of corvee.
After presents freely given have passed into presents
expected and finally demanded, and volunteered help has
passed into exacted service, the way is open for a further
step. Change from the voluntary to the compulsory, accom
panied as it necessarily is by specification of the amounts
of commodities and work required, is apt to be followed
eventually by substitution of money payments. During
stages in which there has not arisen a circulating medium,
the ruler, local or general, is paid his revenue in kind. In
Fiji a chiefs house is supplied with daily food by his depen
dents ; and tribute is paid by the chiefs to the king "in yams,
taro, pigs, fowls, native cloth, &c." In Tahiti, where besides
supplies derived from « the hereditary districts of the reigning
family," there were " requisitions made upon the people;" the
food was generally brought cooked. In early European
societies, too, the expected donations to the ruler continued to
be made partly in goods, animals, clothes, and valuables of
all kinds, long after money was in use. But the convenience
both of giver and receiver prompts commutation, when the
values of the presents looked for have become settled. And
from kindred causes there also comes, as we have seen in a
previous chapter, commutation of military services and com
mutation of labour services. No matter what its nature, that
which was at first spontaneously offered, eventually becomes
a definite sum taken, if need be, by force — a tax.
§ 544, At the same time his growing power enables the
political head to enforce demands of many other kinds.
European histories furnish ample proofs.
Besides more settled sources of revenue, there had, in the
early feudal period, been established such others as are typi-
KEVENUK. 563
cally illustrated by a statement concerning the Dukes of
Normandy in the 12th century. They profited by escheats
(lands reverting to the monarch in default of posterity of the
first baron) ; by guardianships and reliefs ; by seizure of the
property of deceased prelates, usurers, excommunicated per
sons, suicides, and certain criminals; and by treasure-trove.
They were paid for conceded privileges ; and for confirmations
of previous concessions. They received bribes when desired
to do justice ; and were paid fines by those who wished to be
maintained in possession of property, or to get liberty to
exercise certain rights. In England, under the Norman
kings, there were such other sources of revenue as composi
tions paid by heirs before taking possession ; sales of ward
ships ; sales to male heirs of rights to choose their wives ;
sales of charters to towns, and subsequent re-sales of such
charters ; sales of permissions to trade ; and there was also
what was called " moneyage " — a shilling paid every three
years by each hearth to induce the king not to debase the
coinage. Advantage was taken of every favourable oppor
tunity for making and enforcing a demand ; as we see in such
facts as that it was customary to mulct a discharged official,
and that Eichard I. " compelled his father's servants to re
purchase their offices."
Showing us, as such illustrations do, that these arbitrary
seizures and exactions are numerous and heavy in proportion
as the power of the ruler is little restrained, the implication is
that they reach their extreme where the social organization i^
typically militant. Evidence that this is so, was given in
§ 443 ; and in the next chapter, under another head, we shall
meet with more of it.
§ 545. While, in the ways named in the foregoing sections,
there arise direct taxes, there simultaneously arise, and
insensibly diverge, the taxes eventually distinguished as
indirect. These begin as demands made on those who have
got considerable quantities of commodities exposed in transit,
95
564: POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
or on sale ; and of which parts, originally offered as presents,
are subsequently seized as dues.
Under other heads I have referred to the familiar fact that
travellers among rude peoples make propitiatory gifts ; and
by frequent recurrence the reception of these generates a
claim. Narratives of recent African explorers confirm the
statements of Livingstone, who describes the Portuguese traders
among the Quanga people as giving largely, because " if they
did not secure the friendship of these petty chiefs, many
slaves might be stolen with their loads while passing through
the forests ; " and who says of a Balonda chief that " he
seemed to regard these presents as his proper dues, and as a
cargo of goods had come by Senhor Pascoal,he entered the house
for the purpose of receiving his share." Various cases show
that instead of attempting to take all at the risk of a fight, the
head man enters into a compromise under which part is given
without a fight ; as instance the habitual arrangement with
Bedouin tribes, which compound for robbery of travellers by
amounts agreed upon ; or as instance the mountain Bhils of
India, whose chiefs have " seldom much revenue except
plunder," who have officers " to obtain information of unpro
tected villagers and travellers," and who claim " a duty on
goods passing their hills : " apparently a composition accepted
when those who carry the goods are too strong to be robbed
without danger. Where the protection of individuals depends
mainly on family-organizations and clan-organizations, the
subject as well as the stranger, undefended when away from
his home, similarly becomes liable to this qualified black
mail. Now to the local ruler, now to the central ruler,
according to their respective powers, he yields up part of his
goods, that possession of the rest may be guaranteed him,
and his claims on buyers enforced. This state of things waa
illustrated in ancient Mexico, where —
" Of all the goods which were brought into the market, a certain portion
was paid in tribute to the king, who was on his part obliged to do justice
to the merchants, and to protect their property and their persons."
REVENUE. 565
We trace the like iu the records of early European peoples.
Part of the revenue ol? the primitive Greek king, consisted of
" the presents paid for licences to trade " — presents which
in all probability were at first portions of the commodities
to be sold. At a later period in Greece there obtained a
practice that had doubtless descended from this. " To these
men [magistrates of markets] a certain toll or tribute was
paid by all those who brought anything to sell in the market/'
In western Europe indirect taxation had a kindred origin.
The trader, at the mercy of the ruler whose territory he
entered, had to surrender part of his merchandise in con
sideration of being allowed to pass. As feudal lords, swoop
ing down from their castles on merchants passing along
neighbouring roads or navigable rivers, took by force portions
of what they had, when they did not take all; so their
suzerains laid hands on what they pleased of cargoes enter
ing their ports or passing their frontiers: their shares
gradually becoming denned by precedent. In England,
though there is no clear proof that the two tuns which the
king took from wine-laden ships (wine being then the chief
import) was originally an unqualified seizure ; yet, since this
quantity was called "the king's prisage" we have good
reason for suspecting that it was so ; and that though, after
wards, the king's officer gave something in return, this, being
at his option, was but nominal. The very name " customs,"
eventually applied to commuted payments on imports, points
back to a preceding time when this yielding up of portions
of cargoes had become established by usage. Confirmation
of this inference is furnished by the fact that internal traders
were thus dealt with. So late as 1309 it was complained
"that the officers appointed to take articles for the king's use
in fairs and markets, took more than they ought, and made
a profit of the surplus."
Speaking generally of indirect taxes, we may say that
arising when the power of the ruler becomes sufficient to
change gifts into exactions, they at first differ from other
566 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
exactions simply in this, that they are enforced on occasions
when the subject is more than usually at the ruler's mercy ;
either because he is exposing commodities for sale where
they can be easily found and a share taken ; or because he is
transferring them from one part of the territory to another,
and can be readily stopped and a portion demanded ; or
because he is bringing commodities into the territory, and
can have them laid hands on at one of the few places of
convenient entrance. The shares appropriated by the ruler,
originally in kind, are early commuted into money where
the commodities are such as, by reason of quantity or dis
tance, he cannot consume : instance the load-penny payable
at the pit's mouth on each waggon-load to the old-English
kings. And the claim comes to be similarly commuted in
other cases, as fast as increasing trade brings a more abundant
circulating medium, and a greater quantity of produced and
imported commodities ; the demanded portions of which it
becomes more difficult to transport and to utilize.
§ 546. No great advantage would be gained by here going
into details. The foregoing general facts appear to be all that
it is needful for us to note.
From the outset the growth of revenue has, like that growth
of the political headship which it accompanies, been directly
or indirectly a result of war. The property of conquered
enemies, at first goods, cattle, prisoners, and at a later
stage, land, coming in larger share to the leading warrior,
increases his predominance. To secure his good will, which
it is now important to do, propitiatory presents and help in
labour are given; and these, as his power further grows,
become, periodic and compulsory. Making him more despotic
at the same time that it augments his kingdom, continuance
of this process increases his ability to enforce contribu
tions, alike from his original subjects and from tributaries ;
while the necessity for supplies, now to defend his kingdom,
now to invade adjacent kingdoms, is ever made the plea for
HE VENUE. 567
increasing his demands of established kinds and for making
new ones. Under stress of the alleged needs, portions of
their goods are taken from subjects whenever they are ex
posed to view for purposes of exchange. And as the primitive
presents of property and labour, once voluntary and variable,
but becoming compulsory and periodic, are eventually com
muted into direct taxes ; so these portions of the trader's
goods which were originally given for permission to trade and
then seized as of right, come eventually to be transformed
into percentages of value paid as tolls and duties.
But to the last as at first, and under free governments as
under despotic ones, war continues to be the usual reason for
imposing new taxes or increasing old ones ; at the same time
that the coercive organization in past times developed by
wa,r, continues to be the means of exacting them.
CHAPTEE XYII.
THE MILITANT TYPE OF SOCIETY.
§ 547. Preceding chapters have prepared the way for
framing conceptions of the two fundamentally-unlike kinds
of political organization, proper to the militant life and the
industrial life, respectively. It will be instructive here to
arrange in coherent order, those traits of the militant type
already incidentally marked, and to join with them various
dependent traits ; and in the next chapter to deal in like
manner with the traits of the industrial type.
During social evolution there has habitually been a min
gling of the two. But we shall find that, alike in theory arid
in fact, it is possible to trace with due clearness those oppo
site characters which distinguish them in their respective
complete developments. Especially is the nature of the
organization which accompanies chronic militancy, capable of
being inferred a priori and proved a posteriori to exist in
numerous cases. While the nature of the organization
accompanying pure industrialism, of which at present we
have little experience, will be made clear by contrast ; and
such illustrations as exist of progress towards it will become
recognizable.
Two liabilities to error must be guarded against. We have
to deal with societies compounded and re-compounded in
various degrees ; and we have to deal with societies which,
differing in their stages of culture, have their structures
elaborated to different extents. We shall be misled, there
fore, unless our comparisons are such as take account of un-
likenesses in size and in civilization. Clearly, characteristics
of the militant type which admit of being displayed by a vast
THE MILITANT TYPE OF SOCIETY. 569
nation, may not admit of being displayed by a horde of
Bavages, though this is equally militant. Moreover, as insti
tutions take long to acquire their finished forms, it is not to
be expected that all militant societies will display the
organization appropriate to them in its completeness. Bather
may we expect that in most cases it will be incompletely
displayed.
In face of these difficulties the best course will be to con
sider, first, what are the several traits which of necessity mili
tancy tends to produce; and then to observe how far these traits
are conjointly shown in past and present nations distinguished
by militancy. Having contemplated the society ideally
organized for war, we shall be prepared to recognize in real
societies the characters which war has brought abouo.
§ 548. For preserving its corporate life, a society is im
pelled to corporate action ; and the preservation of its cor
porate life is the more probable in proportion as its corporate
action is the more complete. For purposes of offence and
defence, the forces of individuals have to be combined ; and
where every individual contributes his force, the probability
of success is greatest. Numbers, natures, and circumstances
being equal, it is clear that of two tribes or two larger
societies, one of which unites the actions of all its capable
members while the other does not, the first will ordinarily be
the victor. There must be an habitual survival of commu
nities in which militant cooperation is universal.
This proposition is almost a truism. But it is needful here,
as a preliminary, consciously to recognize the truth that the
social structure evolved by chronic militancy, is one in which
all men fit for fighting act in concert against other societies.
ISuch further actions as they carry on they can carry on
eepaiately ; but this action they must carry on jointly.
§ 549. A society's power of self-preservation will be great
in proportion as, besides the direct aid of all who can fight,
5 TO POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
there is given the indirect aid of all who cannot fight. Sup
posing them otherwise similar, those communities will sur
vive in which the efforts of combatants are in the greatest
degree seconded by those of non-combatants. In a purely
militant society, therefore, individuals who do not bear arms
have to spend their lives in furthering the maintenance of
those who do. Whether, as happens at first, the non-com
batants are exclusively the women ; or whether, as happens
later, the class includes enslaved captives; or whether, as
happens later still, it includes serfs ; the implication is the
same. For if, of two societies equal in other respects, the
first wholly subordinates its workers in this way, while the
workers in the second are allowed to retain for themselves
the produce of their labour, or more of it than is needful for
maintaining them ; then, in the second, the warriors, not
otherwise supported, or supported less fully than they might
else be, will have partially to support themselves, and will be
so much the less available for war purposes. Hence in the
struggle for existence between such societies, it must usually
happen that the first will vanquish the second. The social
type produced by survival of the fittest, will be one in which
the fighting part includes all who can bear arms and be
trusted with arms, while the remaining part serves simply as
a permanent commissariat.
An obvious implication, of a significance to be hereafter
pointed out, is that the non-combatant part, occupied in sup
porting the combatant part, cannot with advantage to the
self-preserving power of the society increase beyond the limit
at winch it efficiently fulfils its purpose. For, otherwise,
some who might be fighters are superfluous workers ; and the
fighting power of the society is made less than it might be.
Hence, in the militant type, the tendency is for the body of
warriors to bear the largest practicable ratio to the body of
workers.
§ 550. Given two societies of which the members are all
THE MILITANT TYPE OF SOCIETY. 571
either warriors or those who supply the needs of warriors,
and, other things equal, supremacy will be gained by that in
which the efforts of all are most effectually combined. In
open warfare joint action triumphs over individual action.
Military history is a history of the successes of men trained
to move and fight in concert.
Not only must there be in the fighting part a combination
such that the powers of its units may be concentrated, but
there must be a combination of the subservient part with it.
Jf the two are so separated that they can act independently,
the needs of the fighting part will not be adequately met. If
to be cut off from a temporary base of operations is danger
ous, still more dangerous is it to be cut off from the per
manent base of operations ; namely, that constituted by the
body of non-combatants. This has to be so connected with the
body of combatants that its services may be fully available. Evi
dently, therefore, development of the militant type involves a
close binding of the society into a whole. As the loose group
of savages yields to the solid phalanx, so, other things equal,
must the society of which the parts are but feebly held
together, yield to one in which they are held together by
strong bonds.
§ 551. But in proportion as men are compelled to co
operate, their self-prompted actions are restrained. By as
much as the unit becomes merged in the mass, by so much
does he lose his individuality as a unit. And this leads us
to note the several ways in which evolution of the militant
type entails subordination of the citizen.
His life is not his own, but is at the disposal of his society.
So long as he remains capable of bearing arms he has no
alternative but to fight when called on ; and, where militancy
is extreme, he cannot return as a vanquished man under
penalty of death.
Of course, with this there goes possession of such liberty
only as military obligations allow. He is free to pursue his
572 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
private ends only when the tribe or nation has no need of
him ; and when it has need of him, his actions from hour to
hour must conform, not to his own will but to the public
will.
So, too, with his property. Whether, as in many cases,
what he holds as private he so holds by permission only, or
whether private ownership is recognized, it remains true that
in the last resort he is obliged to surrender whatever is
demanded for the community's use.
Briefly, then, under the militant type the individual is
owned by the State. While preservation of the society is the
primary end, preservation of each member is a secondary end
— an end cared for chiefly as subserving the primary end.
§ 552. Fulfilment of these requirements, that there shall
"be complete corporate action, that to this end the non-com
batant part shall be occupied in providing for the combatant
part, that the entire aggregate shall be strongly bound
together, and that the units composing it must have their
individualities in life, liberty, and property, thereby sub
ordinated, presupposes a coercive instrumentality. No such
union for corporate action can be achieved without a power
ful controlling agency. On remembering the fatal results
caused by division of counsels in war, or by separation into
factions in face of an enemy, we see that chronic militancy
tends to develop a despotism ; since, other things equal, those
societies will habitually survive in which, by its aid, the
corporate action is made complete.
And this involves a system of centralization. The trait
made familiar to us by an army, in which, under a com-
mander-in-chief there are secondary commanders over large
masses, and under these tertiary ones over smaller masses,
and so on down to the ultimate divisions, must characterize
the social organization at large. A militant society requires
a regulative structure of this kind, since, otherwise, its
THE MILITANT TYPE OF SOCIETY. 573
corporate action cannot be made most effectual. Without
such grades of governing centres diffused throughout the non-
combatant part as well as the combatant part, the entire
forces of the aggregate cannot be promptly put forth. Unless
the workers are under a control akin to that which the
fighters are under, their indirect aid cannot be insured in full
amount and with due quickness.
And this is the form of a society characterized by status —
a society, the members of which stand one towards another in
successive grades of subordination. From the despot down
to the slave, all are masters of those below and subjects of
those above. The relation of the child to the father, of the
father to some superior, and so on up to the absolute head, is
one in which the individual of lower status is at the mercy
of one of higher status.
§ 553. Otherwise described, the process of militant organi
zation is a process of regimentation, which, primarily taking
place in the army, secondarily affects the whole com
munity.
The first indication of this we trace in the fact everywhere
visible, that the military head grows into a civil head —
usually at once, and, in exceptional cases, at last, if militancy
continues. Beginning as leader in war he becomes ruler in
peace ; and such regulative policy as he pursues in the one
sphere, he pursues, so far as conditions permit, in the other.
Being, as the non-combatant part is, a permanent commis
sariat, the principle of graduated subordination is extended
to it. Its members come to be directed in a way like that in
wliich the warriors are directed — not literally, since by dis
persion of the one and concentration of the other exact paral
lelism is prevented ; but, nevertheless, similarly in principle.
Labour is carried on under coercion ; and supervision spreads
everywhere.
To suppose that a despotic military head, daily maintain*
574 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
ing regimental control in conformity with inherited traditions,
will not impose on the producing classes a kindred control, is
to suppose in him sentiments and ideas entirely foreign to his
circumstances.
§ 554. The nature of the militant form of government will
be further elucidated on observing that it is both positively
regulative and negatively regulative. It does not simply
restrain ; it also enforces. Besides telling the individual
what he shall not do, it tells him what he shall do.
That the government of an army is thus characterised
needs no showing. Indeed, commands of the positive kind
given to the soldier are more important than those of the
negative kind : fighting is done under the one, while order is
maintained under the other. But here it chiefly concerns us
to note that not only the control of military life but also the
control of civil life, is, under the militant type of govern
ment, thus characterized. There are two ways in which the
ruling power may deal with the private individual. It may
simply limit his activities to those which he can carry on
without aggression, direct or indirect, upon others ; in which
case its action is negatively regulative. Or, besides doing
this, it may prescribe the how, and the where, and the when,
of his activities — may force him to do things which he would
not spontaneously do — may direct in greater or less detail his
mode of living ; in which case its action is positively regula
tive. Under the militant type this positively regulative
action is widespread and peremptory. The civilian is in a
condition as much like that of the soldier as difference of
occupation permits.
And this is another way of expressing the truth that the
fundamental principle of the militant type is compulsory co
operation. While this is obviously the principle on which
the members of the combatant body act, it no less certainly
must be the principle acted on throughout the non-combatant
body, if military efficiency is to be great ; since, otherwise,
THE MILITANT TYPE OF SOCIETY. 575
the aid which the non-combatant body has to furnish cannot
be insured.
§ 555. That binding together by which the units of a
militant society are made into an efficient fighting structure,
tends to fix the position of each in rank, in occupation, and
in locality.
In a graduated regulative organization there is resistance
to change from a lower to a higher grade. Such change is
made difficult by lack of the possessions needed for filling
superior positions ; and it is made difficult by the opposition
of those who already fill them, and can hold inferiors down.
Preventing intrusion from below, these transmit their respec
tive places and ranks to their descendants ; and as the
principle of inheritance becomes settled, the rigidity of the
social structure becomes decided. Only where an " egali
tarian despotism " reduces all subjects to the same political
status — a condition of decay rather than of development —
does the converse state arise.
The principle of inheritance, becoming established in
respect of the classes which militancy originates, and fixing
the general functions of their members from generation to
generation, tends eventually to fix also their special functions.
Not only do men of the slave-classes and the artizan-classes
succeed to their respective ranks, but they succeed to the
particular occupations carried on in them. This, which is a
result of the tendency towards regimentation, is ascribable
primarily to the fact that a superior, requiring from each kind
of wrorker his particular product, has an interest in replacing
him at death by a capable successor; while the woiker,
prompted to get aid in executing his tasks, has an interest
in bringing up a son to his own occupation: the will of the
son being powerless against these conspiring interests. Undei
the system of compulsory cooperation, therefore, the prin
ciple of inheritance, spreading through the producing organi
sation, causes a relative rigidity in this also.
576 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
A kindred effect is shown in the entailed restraints on
movement from place to place. In proportion as the indi
vidual is subordinated in life, liberty, and property, to his
society, it is needful that his whereabouts shall be constantly
known. Obviously the relation of the soldier to his officer,
and of this officer to his superior, is such that each must bo
ever at hand ; and where the militant type is fully developed
the like holds throughout the society. The slave cannot
leave his appointed abode ; the serf is tied to his allotment ;
the master is not allowed to absent himself from his locality
without leave.
So that the corporate action, the combination, the cohesion,
the regimentation, which efficient militancy necessitates,
imply a structure which strongly resists change.
§ 556. A further trait of the militant type, naturally
accompanying the last, is that organizations other than those
forming parts of the State-organization, are wholly or par
tially Depressed. The public combination occupying all fields,
excludes private combinations.
For the achievement of complete corporate action there
must, as we have seen, be a centralized administration, not
only throughout the combatant part but throughout the non-
combatant part; and if there exist unions of citizens which
act independently, they in so far diminish the range of this
centralized administration. Any structures which are not
portions of the State-structure, serve more or less as limita
tions to it, and stand in the way of the required unlimited
subordination. If private combinations are allowed to exist,
it will be on condition of submitting to an official regulation
such as greatly restrains independent action ; and since
private combinations officially regulated are inevitably hin
dered from doing things not conforming to established
routine, and are thus debarred from improvement, they cannot
habitually thrive and grow. Obviously, indeed, such com
binations, based on the principle of voluntary cooperation,
THE MILITANT TYPE OF SOCIETY. 577
are incongruous with social arrangements based on the prin
ciple of compulsory cooperation. Hence the militant type
is characterized by the absence, or comparative rarity, of
bodies of citizens associated for commercial purposes, for
propagating special religious views, for achieving philan
thropic ends, &c.
Private combinations of one kind, however, are congruous
with the militant type — the combinations, namely, which are
formed for minor defensive or offensive purposes. We have,
as examples, those which constitute factions, very general in
militant societies ; those which belong to the same class as
primitive guilds, serving for mutual protection ; and those
which take the shape of secret societies. Of such bodies it
may be noted that they fulfil on a small scale ends like those
which the whole society fulfils on a large scale — the ends of
self-preservation, or aggression, or both. And it in ay be
further noted that these small included societies are organized
on the same principle as the large including society — the
principle of compulsory cooperation. Their governments are
coercive : in some cases even to the extent of killing those of
their members who are disobedient.
§ 557. A remaining fact to be set down is that a society
of the militant type tends to evolve a self-sufficient sustain
ing organization. With its political autonomy there goes
what we may call an economic autonomy. Evidently if it
carries on frequent wars against surrounding societies, its
commercial intercourse with them must be hindered or pre
vented : exchange of commodities can go on to but a small
extent between those who are continually fighting. A mili
tant society must, therefore, to the greatest degree practicable,
provide internally the supplies of all articles needful for
carrying on the lives of its members. Such an economic
state as that which existed during early feudal times, when,
as in France, " the castles made almost all the articles used
in them," is a state evidently entailed on groups, small or
578 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
large, which are in constant antagonism with surrounding
groups. If there does not already exist within any group so
circumstanced, an agency for producing some necessary
article, inability to obtain it from without will lead to the
establishment of an agency for obtaining it within.
Whence it follows that the desire " not to be dependent on
foreigners " is one appropriate to the militant type of society.
So long as there is constant danger that the supplies of
needful things derived from other countries will be cut off by
the breaking out of hostilities, it is imperative that there
shall be maintained a power of producing these supplies at
home, and that to this end the required structures shall be
maintained. Hence there is a manifest direct relation
between militant activities and a protectionist policy.
§ 558. And now having observed the traits which may be
expected to establish themselves by survival of the fittest
during the struggle for existence among societies, let us
observe how these traits are displayed in actual societies,
similar in respect of their militancy but otherwise dissimilar.
Of course in small primitive groups, however warlike they
may be, we must not look for more than rude outlines of the
structure proper to the militant type. Being loosely aggre
gated, definite arrangement of their parts can be earned but
to a small extent. Still, so far as it goes, the evidence is to
the point. The fact that habitually the fighting body is co
extensive with the adult male population, is so familiar that
no illustrations are needed. An equally familiar fact is that
the women, occupying a servile position, do all the unskilled
labour and bear the burdens ; with which may be joined the
fact that not un frequently during war they carry the supplier,
as in Asia among the Bhils and Khonds, as in Polynesia
among the New Caledonians and Sandwich Islanders, as in
America among the Comanches, Mundrucus, Patagonians :
their office as forming the permanent commissariat being thus
clearly shown. We see, too, that where the enslaving of
THE MILITANT TYPE OF SOCIETY. 5 79
captives has arisen, these also serve to support and aid the
combatant class ; acting during peace as producers and during
war joining the women in attendance on the army, as among
the New Zealanders, or, as among the Malagasy, beiug then
exclusively the carriers of provisions, &c. Again, in these
first stages, as in later stages, we are shown that private,
claims are, in the militant type, over-ridden by public claims.
The life of each man is held subject to the needs of the
group ; and, by implication, his freedom of action is similarly
held. So, too, with his goods ; as instance the remark made
of the Brazilian Indians, that personal property, recognized
but to a limited extent during peace, is scarcely at all recog
nized during war ; and as instance Hearne's statement con
cerning certain hyperborean tribes of North America when
about to make war, that ''• property of every kind that could
be of general use now ceased to be private." To which add
the cardinal truth, once more to be repeated, that where no
political subordination exists war initiates it. Tacitly or
overtly a chief is temporarily acknowledged ; and he gains
permanent power if war continues. From these beginnings
of the militant type which small groups show us, let us pass
to its developed forms as shown in larger groups.
" The army, or what is nearly synonymous, the nation of
Dahome," to quote Burton's words, furnishes us with a good
example : the excessive militancy being indicated by the fact
that the royal bedroom is paved with skulls of enemies.
Here the king is absolute, and is regarded as supernatural in
character — he is the " spirit ;" and of course he is the religious
head — he ordains the priests. He absorbs in himself all
powers and all rights : " by the state-law of Dahorne ... all
men are slaves to the king." He "is heir to all his subjects;"
and he takes from living subjects whatever he likes. When
we add that there is a frequent killing of victims to carry
messages to the other world, as well as occasions on which
numbers are sacrificed to supply deceased kings with attend
ants, we are shown that life, liberty, and property, are at the
580 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
entire disposal of the State as represented by its head. In
both the civil and military organizations, the centres and sub-
centres of control are numerous. Names, very generally
given by the king and replacing surnames, change "with
every rank of the holder;" and so detailed is the regimenta
tion that "the dignities seem interminable." There are
numerous sumptuary laws : and, according to Waitz, no one
wears any other clothing or weapons than what the king gives
Mm or allows him. Under penalty of slavery or death, " no
man must alter the construction of his house, sit upon a chair,
or be carried on a hammock, or drink out of a glass/' without
permission of the king.
The ancient Peruvian empire, gradually established by the
conquering Yncas, may next be instanced. Here the ruler,
divinely descended, sacred, absolute, was the centre of a
system which minutely controlled all life. His headship was
at once military, political, ecclesiastical, judicial; and the
entire nation was composed of those who, in the capacity of
soldiers, labourers, and officials, were slaves to him and his
deified ancestors. Military service was obligatory on all
taxable Indians who were capable ; and those of them who
had served their prescribed terms, formed into reserves, had
then to work under State-superintendence. The army having
heads over groups of ten, fifty, a hundred, five hundred, a
thousand, ten thousand, had, besides these, its superior com
manders of Ynca blood. The community at large was subject
to a parallel regimentation : the inhabitants registered in
groups, being under the control of officers over tens, fifties,
hundreds, and so on. And through these successive grades
of centres, reports ascended to the Ynca-governors of great
divisions, passing on from them to the Ynca; while his orders
descended " from rank to rank till they reached the lowest."
There was an ecclesiastical organization similarly elaborate,
having, for example, five classes of diviners ; and there was
an organization of spies to examine and report upon the
doings of the other officers. Everything was under public
THE MILITANT TYPE OF SOCIETY. 581
Inspection. There were village-officers who overlooked the
ploughing, sowing, and harvesting. When there was a defi
ciency of rain, measured quantities of water were supplied
by the State. All who travelled without authority were
punished as vagabonds ; but for those who were authorized
to travel for public purposes, there were establishments sup
plying lodging and necessaries. " It was the duty of the
deourions to see that the people were clothed ;" and the kinds
of cloth, decorations, badges, &c., to be worn by the different
ranks were prescribed. Besides this regulation of external
life there was regulation of domestic life. The people were
required to " dine and sup with open doors, that the judges
might be able to enter freely;" and these judges had to see
that the house, clothes, furniture, &c., were kept clean and in
order, and the children properly disciplined : those who mis
managed their houses being flogged. Subject to this minute
control, the people laboured to support this elaborate State-
organization. The political, religious, and military classes
were exempt from tribute ; while the labouring classes when
not serving in the army, had to yield up all produce beyond
that required for their bare sustenance. Of the whole empire,
one-third was allotted for supporting the State, one-third for
supporting the priesthood who ministered to the manes of
ancestors, and the remaining third had to support the workers.
Besides giving tribute by tilling the lands of the Sun and the
King, the workers had to till the lands of the soldiers on duty,
as well as those of incapables. And they also had to pay
tribute of clothes, shoes, and arms. Of the lands on which the
people maintained themselves, a tract was apportioned to
each man according to the size of his family. Similarly with
the produce of the flocks. Such moiety of this in each dis
trict as was not required for supplying public needs, was
periodically shorn, and the wool divided by officials. These
arrangements were in pursuance of the principle that " the
private property of each man was held by favour of the Ynca,
and according to their laws he had no other title to it." Thus
582 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
the people, completely possessed by the State in person, pro
perty, and labour, transplanted to this or that locality as the
Ynca directed, and, when not serving as soldiers, living under
a discipline like that within the army, were units in a cen
tralized regimented machine, moved throughout life to the
greatest practicable extent by the Ynca's will, and to the
least practicable extent by their own wills. And, naturally,
along with militant organization thus carried to its ided
limit, there went an almost entire absence of any other
organization. They had no money; "they neither sold
clothes, nor houses, nor estates ;" and trade was represented
among them by scarcely anything more than some bartering
of articles of food.
So far as accounts of it show, ancient Egypt presented
phenomena allied in their general, if not in their special, cha
racters. Its predominant militancy during remote unrecorded
times, is sufficiently implied by the vast population of slaves
who toiled to build the pyramids ; and its subsequent con
tinued militancy we are shown alike by the boasting records
of its kings, and the delineations of their triumphs on its
temple-walls. Along with this form of . activity we have, as
before, the god-descended ruler, limited in his powers only by
the usages transmitted from his divine ancestors, who was at
once political head, high-priest, and commander-in-chief.
Under him was a centralized organization, of which the civil
part was arranged in classes and sub-classes as definite as
were those of the militant part. Of the four great social divi
sions — priests, soldiers, traders, and common people, beneath
whom came the slaves — the first contained more than a score
different orders ; the second, some half-dozen beyond those
constituted by military grades ; the third, nearly a dozen ; and
the fourth, a still greater number. Though within the ruling
classes the castes were not so rigorously defined as to prevent
change of function in successive generations, yet Herodotus
and Diodorus state that industrial occupations descended
from father to son : " every particular trade and manufacture
THE MILITANT TYPE OF SOCIETY. 583
was earned on by its own craftsmen, and none changed from
one trade to another." How elaborate was the regimentation
may be judged from the detailed account of the staff of
officers and workers engaged in one of their vast quarries :
the numbers and kinds of functionaries paralleling those of
an army. To support this highly-developed regulative organi-
ration, civil, military, and sacerdotal (an organization which
held exclusive possession of the land) the lower classes
laboured. " Overseers were set over the wretched people,
who were urged to hard work more by the punishment of the
stick than words of warning." And whether or not official
oversight included domiciliary visits, it at any rate went to
the extent of taking note of each family. " Every man was
required under pain of death to give an account to the magis
trate of how he earned his livelihood."
Take, now, another ancient society, which, strongly con
trasted in sundry respects, shows us, along with habitual mili
tancy, the assumption of structural traits allied in their
fundamental characters to those thus far observed. I refer
to Sparta. That warfare did not among the Spartans evolve
a single despotic head, while in part due to causes which, as
before- shown, favour the development of compound political
heads, was largely due to the accident of their double king
ship : the presence of two divinely-descended chiefs pre
vented the concentration of power. But though from this
cause there continued an imperfectly centralized government,
the relation of this government to members of the community
was substantially like that of militant governments in general.
Notwithstanding the serfdom, and in towns the slavery, of
the Helots, and notwithstanding the political subordination
of the Perioeki, they all, in common with the Spartans proper,
were under obligation to military service : the working func
tion of the first, and the trading function, so far as it existed,
which was carried on by the second, were subordinate to the
militant function, with which the third was exclusively occu
pied. And the civil divisions thus marked re-appeared in
584 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
the military divisions : "at the battle of Platsea. every Spartan
hoplite had seven Helots, and every Perioeki hoplite one Helot
to attend him." The extent to which, by the daily military
discipline, prescribed military mess, and fixed contributions of
food, the individual life of the Spartan was subordinated to
public demands, from seven years upwards, needs mention
only to show the rigidity of the restraints which here, as
elsewhere, the militant type imposes — restraints which were
further shown in the prescribed age for marriage, the preven
tion of domestic life, the forbidding of industry or any money-
seeking occupation, the interdict on going abroad without
leave, and the authorized censorship under which his days
and nights were passed. There was fully carried out in Sparta
the Greek theory of society, that " the citizen belongs neither
to himself nor to his family, but to his city." So that though
in this exceptional case, chronic militancy was prevented
from developing a supreme head, owning the individual citizen
in body and estate, yet it developed an essentially identical
relation between the community as a whole and its units.
The community, exercising its power through a compound
head instead of through a simple head, completely enslaved
the individual. While the lives and labours of the Helots
were devoted exclusively to the support of those who formed
the military organization, the lives and labours of those who
formed the military organization were exclusively devoted to
the service of the State : they were slaves with a difference.
Of modern illustrations, that furnished by Eussia will
suffice. Here, again, with the wars which effected conquests
and consolidations, came the development of the victorious
commander into the absolute ruler, who, if not divine by
alleged origin, yet acquired something like divine prestige.
" All men are equal before God, and the Eussians' God is the
Emperor," says De Custine: "the supreme governor is so raised
above earth, that he sees no difference between the serf and the
lord." Under the stress of Peter the Great's wars, which, as
the nobles complained, took them away from their homes, "not,
THE MILITANT TYPE OF SOCIETY. 585
as formerly, for a single campaign, but for long years," they
became " servants of the State, without privileges, without
dignity, subjected to corporal punishment, and burdened with
onerous duties from which there was no escape." "Any
noble who refused to serve ['the State in the Army, the
Fleet, or the Civil Administration, from boyhood to old age/]
was not only deprived of his estate, as in the old times, but
was declared to be a traitor, and might be condemned to
capital punishment." " Under Peter/' says Wallace, " all
offices, civil and military," were " arranged in fourteen classes
or ranks ;" and he " defined the obligations of each with
microscopic minuteness. After his death the work was
carried on in the same spirit, and the tendency reached its
climax in the reign of Nicholas." In the words of De Custine,
" the tchinn [the name for this organization] is a nation
formed into a regiment ; it is the military system applied to
all classes of society, even to those who never go to war."
With this universal regimentation in structure went a regi
mental discipline. The conduct of life was dictated to the
citizens at large in the same way as to soldiers. In the reign
of Peter and his successors, domestic entertainments were
appointed and regulated ; the people were compelled to change
their costumes ; the clergy to cut off their beards ; and even
the harnessing of horses was according to pattern. Occupa
tions were controlled to the extent that " no boyard could
enter any profession, or forsake it when embraced, or retire
from public to private life, or dispose of his property, or travel
into any foreign country, without the permission of the Czar."
This omnipresent rule is well expressed in the close of
certain rhymes, for which a military officer was sent to
Siberia : —
" Tout se fait par ukase ici ;
C'e&t par ukase que Ton voyage,
C'est par ukase que Ton rit."
Taking thus the existing barbarous society of Dahomey,
formed of negroes, the extinct semi-civilized empire of the
586 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
Yncas, whose subjects were remote in blood from these, the
ancient Egyptian empire peopled by yet other races, the
community of the Spartans, again unlike in the type of its
men, and the existing Eussian nation made up of Slavs and
Tatars, we have before us cases in which such similarities of
social structure as exist, cannot be ascribed to inheritance oi
a common character by the social units. The immense
contrasts between the populations of these several societies,
too, varying from millions at the one extreme to thousands at
the other, negative the supposition that their common struc
tural traits are consequent on size. Nor can it be supposed
that likenesses of conditions in respect of climate, surface,
soil, flora, fauna, or likenesses of habits caused by such con
ditions, can have had anything to do with the likenesses of
organization in these societies ; for their respective habitats
present numerous marked unlikenesses. Such traits as they
one and all exhibit, not ascribable to any other cause, must
thus be ascribed to the habitual militancy characteristic of
them all. The results of induction alone would go far to
warrant this ascription ; and it is fully warranted by their
correspondence with the results of deduction, as set forth
above.
§ 559. Any remaining doubts must disappear on observing
how continued militancy is followed by further development
of the militant organization. Three illustrations will suffice.
When, during Eoman conquests, the tendency for the suc
cessful general to become despot, repeatedly displayed, finally
took effect— when the title imperator, military in its primary
meaning, became the title for the civil ruler, showing us on a
higher platform that genesis of political headship oat of mili
tary headship visible from the beginning — when, as usually
happens, an increasingly divine character was acquired by
the civil ruler, as shown in the assumption of the sacred
name Augustus, as well as in the growth of an actual worship
of him ; there simultaneously became more pronounced those
THE MILITANT TYPE OF SOCIETY. 587
further traits which characterize the militant type in its
developed form. Practically, if not nominally, the other
powers of the State were absorbed by him. In the words of
Duruy, he had —
u The right of proposing, that is, of making laws ; of receiving and
trying appeals, i.e. the supreme jurisdiction ; of arresting by the tribu-
nitian veto every measure and every sentence, i.e. of putting his will in
opposition to the laws and magistrates ; of summoning the senate or the
people and presiding over it, i.e. of directing the electoral assemblies as
he thought fit. And these prerogatives he will have not for a single
year but for life ; not in Eome only . . . but throughout the empire ;
not shared with ten colleagues, but exercised by himself alone ; lastly,
without any account to render, since he never resigns his office."
Along with these changes went an increase in the number
and definiteness of social divisions. The Emperor —
" Placed between himself and the masses a multitude of people regu
larly classed by categories, and piled one above the other in such a way
that this hierarchy, pressing with all its weight upon the masses under
neath, held the people and factious individuals powerless. What
remained of the old patrician nobility had the foremost rank in the city;
. . . below it came the senatorial nobility, half hereditary ; below that
the moneyed nobility or equestrian order — three aristocracies super
posed. . . . The sons of senators formed a class intermediate between
the senatorial and the equestrian order. ... In the 2nd century the
senatorial families formed an hereditary nobility with privileges."
At the same time the administrative organization was greatly
extended and complicated.
" Augustus created a large number of new offices, as the superintend
ence of public works, roads, aqueducts, the Tiber-bed, distribution of
corn to the people. . . . He also created numerous ofiices of procurators
for the financial administration of the empire, and in Home there were
1,060 municipal officers."
The structural character proper to an army spread in a double
^ay : military officers acquired civil functions and function
aries of a civil kind became partially military. The magis
trates appointed by the Emperor, tending to replace those
appointed by the people, had, along with their civil authority,
military authority ; and while " under Augustus the prefects
of the pretorium were only military chiefs, . . . they gradually
possessed themselves of the whole civil authority, and finally
588 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
became, after the Emperor, the first personages in the empire."
Moreover, the governmental structures grew by incorporating
bodies of functionaries who were before independent. " In
his ardour to organize everything, he aimed at regimenting
the law itself, and made an official magistracy of that which
had always been a free profession." To enforce the rule of
this extended administration, the army was made permanent,
and subjected to severe discipline. With the continued
growth of the regulating and coercing organization, the drafts
on producers increased ; and, as shown by extracts in a pre
vious chapter concerning the Eoman regime in Egypt and in.
Gaul, the working part of the community was reduced more
and more to the form of a permanent commissariat. In Italy
the condition eventually arrived at was one in which vast
tracts were " intrusted to freedmen, whose only consideration
was . . . how to extract from their labourers the greatest
amount of work with the smallest quantity of food."
An example under our immediate observation may next be
taken — that of the German Empire. Such traits of the
militant type in Germany as were before manifest, have,
since the late war, become still more manifest. The army,
active and passive, including officers and attached function
aries, has been increased by about 100,000 men ; and changes
in 1875 and 1880, making certain reserves more available,
have practically caused a further increase of like amount.
Moreover, the smaller German States, having in great part
surrendered the administration of their several contingents,
the German army has become more consolidated; and even
the armies of Saxony, Wiirtemberg, and Bavaria, being sub
ject to Imperial supervision, have in so far ceased to be in
dependent. Instead of each year granting military supplies,
as had been the practice in Prussia before the formation of
the North German Confederation, the Parliament of the
Empire was, in 1871, induced to vote the required annual
sum for three years thereafter ; in 1874 it did the like for the
succeeding seven years; and again in 1880 the greatly
THE MILITANT TYPE OF SOCIETY. 589
increased amount for the augmented army was authorized for
the seven years then following : steps obviously surrendering
popular checks on Imperial power. Simultaneously, military
officialism has been in two ways replacing civil officialism.
Subaltern officers are rewarded for long services by appoint
ments to civil posts — local communes being forced to give
them the preference to civilians ; and not a few members of
the higher civil service, and of the universities, as well as
teachers in the public schools, having served as " volunteers
of one year," become commissioned officers of the Landwehr.
During the struggles of the so-called Kulturkampf, the eccle
siastical organization became more subordinated by the
political. Priests suspended by bishops were maintained in
their offices ; it was made penal for a clergyman publicly to
take part against the government ; a recalcitrant bishop had
his salary stopped ; the curriculum for ecclesiastics was pre
scribed by the State, and examination by State-officials re
quired ; church discipline was subjected to State-approval ;
and a power of expelling rebellious clergy from the country
was established. Passing to the industrial activities we may
note, first, that through sundry steps, from 1873 onwards,
there has been a progressive transfer of railways into the
hands of the State ; so that, partly by original construction
(mainly of lines for military purposes), and partly by pur
chase, three-fourths of ail Prussian railways have been made
government property ; and the same percentage holds in the
other German States : the aim being eventually to make
them all Imperial. Trade interferences have been extended
iii various ways — by protectionist tariffs, by revival of the
usury laws, by restrictions on Sunday labour. Through its
postal service the State has assumed industrial functions —
presents acceptances, receives money on bills of exchange
that are due, as also on ordinary bills, which it gets receipted;
and until stopped by shopkeepers' protests, undertook to pro
cure books from publishers. Lastly there come the measures
for extending, directly and indirectly, the control over popular
590 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
life. On the one hand there are the laws under which, up
to the middle of last year, 224 socialist societies have been
closed, 180 periodicals suppressed, 317 hooks, &c., forbidden;
and under which sundry places have been reduced to a
partial state of siege. On the other hand may be named
Prince Bismarck's scheme for re-establishing guilds (bodies
which by their regulations coerce their members), and his
scheme of State-insurance, by the help of which the artizun
would, in a considerable degree, have his hands tied. Though
these measures have not been carried in the forms proposed,
yet the proposal of them sufficiently shows the general ten
dency. In all which changes we see progress towards a more
integrated structure, towards increase of the militant part as
compared with the industrial part, towards the replacing of
civil organization by military organization, towards the
strengthening of restraints over the individual and regulation
of his life in greater detail.*
The remaining example to be named is that furnished lay
our own society since the revival of military activity — a
revival which has of late been so marked that our illustrated
papers are, week after week, occupied with little else than
scenes of warfare. Already in the first volume of The Prin
ciples of Sociology, I have pointed out many ways in which
the system of compulsory cooperation characterizing the
militant type, has been trenching on the system of voluntary
cooperation characterizing the industrial type ; and since
those passages appeared (July, 1876), other changes in the
same direction have taken place. Within the military
organization itself, we may note the increasing assimilation
of the volunteer forces to the regular army, now going to the
extent of proposing to make them available abroad, so that
instead of defensive action for which they were created, they
* Tin's chapter was originally published in the Contemporary Review for
Sept., 1881. Since that date a further movement of German society in tho
same general direction has been shown by the pronounced absolutism of the
imperial rescript of Jan., 1882, endorsing Prince Bisruarck's scheme of State-
socialism.
THE MILITANT TYPE OF SOCIETY. 591
can be used for offensive action ; and we may also note
that the tendency shown in the army during the past genera
tion to sink the military character whenever possible, by
putting on civilian dresses, is now checked by an order to
officers in garrison towns to wear their uniforms when off
duty, as they do in more militant countries. Whether, since
the date named, usurpations of civil functions by military
men (which had in 1873-4 gone to the extent that thero
were 97 colonels, majors, captains, and lieutenants employed"
from time to time as inspectors of science and art classes)
have gone further, I cannot say ; but there has been a mani
fest extension of the militant spirit and discipline among the
police, who, wearing helmet-shaped hats, beginning to carry
revolvers, and looking upon themselves as half soldiers, have
come to speak of the people as " civilians." To an increasing
extent the executive has been over-riding the other govern
mental agencies ; as in the Cyprus business, and as in the
doings of the Indian Viceroy under secret instructions from
home. In various minor ways are shown endeavours to free
officialism from popular checks ; as in the desire expressed in
the House of Lords that the hanging of convicts in prisons,
entrusted entirely to the authorities, should have no other
witnesses; and as in the advice given by the late Home
Secretary (on llth May, 1878) to the Derby Town Council,
that it should not interfere with the chief constable (a mili
tary man) in his government of the force under him — a step
towards centralizing local police control in the Home Office.
Simultaneously we see various actual or prospective exten
sions of public agency, replacing or restraining private agency.
There is the " endowment of research," which, already par
tially carried out by a government fund, many wish to carry
further ; there is the proposed act for establishing a registra
tion of authorized teachers ; there is the bill which provides
central inspection for local public libraries; there is the
scheme for compulsory insurance — a scheme showing us in
au instructive manner the way in which the regulating policy
592 POLITICAL fNSTITUTIONS.
extends itself : compulsory charity having generated impro
vidence, there comes compulsory insurance as a remedy for
the improvidence. Other proclivities towards institutions
belonging to the militant type, are. seen in the increasing
demand for some form of protection, and in the lamentations
uttered by the " society papers " that duelling has gone out
Nay, even through the party which by position and function
is antagonistic to militancy, we see that militant discipline is
spreading ; for the caucus-system, established for the better
organization of liberalism, is one which necessarily, in a
greater or less degree, centralizes authority and controls
individual action.
Besides seeing, then, that the traits to be inferred a priwi
as characterizing the militant type, constantly eyist in
societies which are permanently militant in high degjaes, we
also see that in other societies increase of militant activity is
followed by development of such traits.
§ 560. In some places I have stated, and in other places
implied, that a necessary relation exists between the structure
of a society and the natures of its citizens. Here it will be
well to observe in detail the characters proper to, and
habitually exemplified by, the members of a typically militant
society.
Other things equal, a society will be successful in war in
proportion as its members are endowed with bodily vigour
and courage. And, on the average, among conflicting societies
there will be a survival and spread of those in which the
physical and mental powers called for in battle, are not only
most marked but also most honoured. Egyptian and Assyrian
sculptures and inscriptions, show us that prowess was the
thing above all others thought most worthy of record. Of
the words good, just, &c., as used by the ancient Greeks,
Grote remarks that they " signify the man of birth, wealth,
influence and daring, whose arm is strong to destroy or to
protect, whatever may be the turn of his moral sentiments ;
THE MILITANT TYPE OF SOCIETY. 593
while the opposite epithet, bad, designates the poor, lowly,
and weak, from whose dispositions, be they ever so virtuous
society has little to hope or to fear." In the identification of
virtue with bravery among the Romans, we have a like im
plication. During early turbulent times throughout Europe,
the knightly character, which was the honourable character,
primarily included fearlessness : lacking this, good qualities
were of no account ; but with this, sins of many kinds, great
though they might be, were condoned.
If, among antagonist groups of primitive men, some tole
rated more than others the killing of their members— if,
while some always retaliated others did not ; those which did
not retaliate, continually aggressed on with impunity, would
either gradually disappear or have to take refuge in unde
sirable habitats. Hence there is a survival of the unfor
giving. Further, the lex talionis, primarily arising between
antagonist groups, becomes the law within the group ; and
chronic feuds between component families and clans, every
where proceed upon the general principle of life for life.
Under the militant regime revenge becomes a virtue, and
failure to revenge a disgrace. Among the Fijians, who foster
anger in their children, it is not infrequent for a man to
commit suicide rather than live under an insult; and in other
cases the dying Fijian bequeathes the duty of inflicting
vengeance to his children. This sentiment and the resulting
practices we trace among peoples otherwise wholly alien, who
are, or have been, actively militant. In the remote East may
be instanced the Japanese. They are taught that "with the
flayer of his father a man may not live under the same
heaven ; against the slayer of his brother a man must never
have to go home to fetch a weapon ; with the slayer of his
friend a man may not live in the same State." And in the
West may be instanced France d'uring feudal days, when the
relations of one killed or injured were required by custom to
retaliate on any relations of the offender — even those living
at a distance and knowing nothing of the matter. Down to
594 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
the time of the Abbe Brantome, the spirit was such that that
ecclesiastic, enjoining on his nephews by his will to avenge
any unredressed wrongs done to him in his old age, says of
himself — " I may boast, and I thank God for it, that I never
received an injury without being revenged on the author of
it." That where militancy is active, revenge, private as well
as public, becomes a duty, is well shown at the present time
among the Montenegrins — a people who have been at war
with the Turks for centuries. " Dans le Montenegro," says
Bone*, " on dira d'un homme d'une natrie [clan] ayant tue un
individu d'une autre : Cette natrie nous doit une tete, et il
faut que cette dette soit acquittee, car qui ne se venge pas ne
se sancitie pas."
Where activity in destroying enemies is chronic, destruc
tion will become a source of pleasure ; where success in sub
duing fellow-men is above all things honoured, there will
arise delight in the forcible exercise of mastery ; and with
pride in spoiling the vanquished, will go disregard for the
rights of property at large. As it is incredible that men
should be courageous in face of foes and cowardly in face of
friends, so it is incredible that the other feelings fostered
by perpetual conflicts abroad should not come into play
at home. We have just seen that with the pursuit of
vengeance outside the society, there goes the pursuit of ven
geance inside the society ; and whatever other habits of
thought and action constant war necessitates, must show
their effects on the social life at large. Facts from various
places and times prove that in militant communities the
claims to life, liberty, and property, are little regarded. The
Pahomnns, warlike to the extent that both sexes are warriors,
and by whom slave-hunting invasions are, or were, annually
undertaken " to furnish funds for the royal exchequer," show
their bloodthirstiness by their annual " customs," at which
multitudinous victims are publicly slaughtered for the popu
lar gratification. The Fijians, again, highly militant in their
activities and type of organization, who display their reckless-
THE MILITANT TYPE OF SOCIETY. 595
ness of life not only by killing their own people for cannibal
feasts, but by destroying immense numbers of their infanta
and by sacrificing victims on such trivial occasions as launch
ing a new canoe, so much applaud ferocity that to commit a
murder is a glory. Early records of Asiatics and Europeans
show us the like relation. What accounts there are of the
primitive Mongols, who, when united, massacred western
peoples wholesale, show us a chronic reign of violence, both
within and without their tribes ; while domestic assassina
tions, which from the beginning have characterized the mili*
tant Turks, continue to characterize them down to our own
day. In proof that it was so with the Greek and Latin races
it suffices to instance the slaughter of the two thousand heloU
by the Spartans, whose brutality was habitual, and the
murder of large numbers of suspected citizens by jealous
Roman emperors, who also, like their subjects, manifested
their love of bloodshed in their arenas. That where
life is little regarded there can be but little regard for liberty,
follows necessarily. Those who do not hesitate to end another's
activities by killing him, will still less hesitate to restrain his
activities by holding him in bondage. Militant savages,
whose captives, when not eaten, are enslaved, habitually show
us this absence of regard for fellow-men's freedom, which
characterizes the members of militant societies in general.
How little, under the regime of war, more or less markedly
displayed in all early historic societies, there was any sen
timent against depriving men of their liberties, is suffi
ciently shown by the fact that even in the teachings of
primitive Christianity there was no express condemnation of
slavery. Naturally the like holds with the right of
property. "Where mastery established by force is honourablei
claims to possession by the weaker are likely to be little
respected by the stronger. In Eiji it is considered chief-like
to seize a subject's goods; and theft is virtuous if undis
covered. Among the Spartans " the ingenious and success
ful pilferer gained applause with his booty." In mediaeval
97
596 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
Europe, with perpetual robberies of one society by another
there went perpetual robberies within each society. Under
the Merovingians " the murders and crimes it [The Ecclesias
tical History of the Franks] relates, have almost all for their
object the possession of the treasure of the murdered per
sons." And under Charlemagne plunder by officials was
chronic : the moment his back was turned, " the provo.sts of
the king appropriated the funds intended to furnish food and
clothing for the artisans."
Where warfare is habitual, and the required qualities most
needful and therefore most honoured, those whose lives do not
display them are treated with contempt, and their occupations
regarded as dishonourable. In early stages labour is the
business of women and of slaves — conquered men and the
descendants of conquered men ; and trade of every kind,
carried on by subject classes, long continues to be identified
with lowness of origin and nature. In Dahomey, " agricul
ture is despised because slaves are employed in it." " The
Japanese nobles and placemen, even of secondary rank,
entertain a sovereign contempt for traffic/' Of the ancient
Egyptians Wilkinson says, " their prejudices against mecha
nical employments, as far as regarded the soldier, were equally
strong as in the rigid Sparta." " For trade and commerce
the [ancient] Persians were wont to express extreme con
tempt," writes Eawlinson. That progress of class-differentia
tion which accompanied the conquering wars of the Romans,
was furthered by establishment of the rule that it was dis
graceful to take money for work, as also by the law forbid
ding senators and senators' sons from engaging in speculation.
And how great has been the scorn expressed by the militant
classes for the trading classes throughout Europe, down to
quite recent times, needs no showing.
That there may be willingness to risk life for the benefit of
the society, there must be much of the feeling called patriot
ism. Though the belief that it is glorious to die for one's
country cannot be regarded as essential, since mercenaries
THE MILITANT TYPE OF SOCIETY. 597
fight without it ; yet it is obvious that such a belief conduces
greatly to success in war ; and that entire absence of it is so
unfavourable to offensive and defensive action that failure
and subjugation will, other things equal, be likely to result.
Hence the sentiment of patriotism is habitually established
by the survival of societies the members of which are most
characterized by it.
With this has to be united the sentiment of obedience. The
possibility of that united action by which, other things equal,
war is made successful, depends on the readiness of indivi
duals to subordinate their wills to the will of a commander
or ruler. Loyalty is essential. In early stages the manifes
tation of it is but temporary ; as among the Araucanians who,
ordinarily showing themselves " repugnant to all subordina
tion, are then [when war is impending] prompt to obey, and
submissive to the will of their military sovereign " appointed
for the occasion. And with development of the militant type
this sentiment becomes permanent. Erskine tells us that the
Fijians are intensely loyal : men buried alive in the founda
tions of a king's house, considered themselves honoured by
being so sacrificed ; and the people of a slave district " said it
was their duty to become food and sacrifice for the chiefs." So
in Dahomey, there is felt for the king " a mixture of love
and fear, little short of adoration." In ancient Egypt again,
where " blind obedience was the oil which caused the harmo
nious working of the machinery " of social life, the monu
ments on every side show with wearisome iteration the daily
acts of subordination — of slaves and others to the dead man,
of captives to the king, of the king to the gods. Though for
reasons already pointed out, chronic war did not generate in
Sparta a supreme political head, to whom there could be
shown implicit obedience, yet the obedience shown to the
political agency which grew up was profound : individu.il
wills were in all things subordinate to the public will ex
pressed by the established authorities. Primitive Rome, too,
though without a divinely-descended king to whom submis-
598 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
sion could be shown, displayed great submission to an ap
pointed king, qualified only by expressions of opinion on
special occasions ; and the principle of absolute obedience,
slightly mitigated in the relations of the community as a
whole to its ruling agency, was unmitigated within its com
ponent groups. That throughout European history, alike on
small and on large scales, we see the sentiment of loyalty
dominant where the militant type of structure is pronounced,
is a truth that will be admitted without detailed proof.
From these conspicuous traits of nature, let us turn to
certain consequent traits which are less conspicuous, and
which have results of less manifest kinds. Along with
loyalty naturally goes faith — the two being, indeed, scarcely
separable. Eeadiness to obey the commander in war, implies
belief in his military abilities ; and readiness to obey him
during peace, implies belief that his abilities extend to civil
affairs also. Imposing on men's imaginations, each new con
quest augments his authority. There come more frequent
and more decided evidences of his regulative action over
men's lives ; and these generate the idea that his power is
boundless. Unlimited confidence in governmental agency is
fostered. Generations brought up under a system which con
trols all affairs, private and public, tacitly assume that affairs
can only thus be controlled. Those who have experience of
no other regime are unable to imagine any other regime.
In such societies as that of ancient Peru, for example, where,
as we have seen, regimental rule was universal, there were no
materials for framing the thought of an industrial life spon
taneously carried on and spontaneously regulated.
By implication there results repression of individual initia
tive, and consequent lack of private enterprise. In propor
tion as an army becomes organized, it is reduced to a state in
which the independent action of its members is forbidden.
And in proportion as regimentation pervades the society at
large, each member of it, directed or restrained at every turn,
has little or no power of conducting his business otherwise
THE MILITANT TYPE OF SOCIETY. 599
than by established routine. Slaves can do only what they
are told by their masters ; their masters cannot do anything
that is unusual without official permission ; and no permission
is to be obtained from the local authority until superior autho
rities through their ascending grades have been consulted
Hence the mental state generated is that of passive accept
ance and expectancy. Where the militant type is fully
developed, everything must be done by public agencies ; not
only for the reason that these occupy all spheres, but for the
further reason that did they not occupy them, there would
arise no other agencies : the prompting ideas and sentiments
having been obliterated.
There must be added a concomitant influence on the intel
lectual nature, which cooperates with the moral influences
just named. Personal causation is alone recognized, and the
conception of impersonal causation is prevented from develop
ing. The primitive man has no idea of cause in the modern
sense. The only agents included in his theory of things are
living persons and the ghosts of dead persons. All unusual
occurrences, together with those usual ones liable to variation,
he ascribes to supernatural beings. And this system of inter
pretation survives through early stages of civilization ; as we
see, for example, among the Homeric Greeks, by whom wounds,
deaths, and escapes in battle, were ascribed to the enmity or
the aid of the gods, and by whom good and bad acts were held
to be divinely prompted. Continuance and development of
militant forms and activities maintain this way of thinking.
In the first place, it indirectly hinders the discovery of
causul relations. The sciences grow out of the arts — begin
as generalizations of truths which practice of the arts makes
manifest. In proportion as processes of production multiply
in their kinds and increase in their complexities, more
numerous uniformities come to be recognized ; and the ideas
of necessary relation and physical cause arise and develop.
Consequently, by discouraging industrial progress, militancy
checks the replacing of ideas of personal agency by ideas of
600 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
impersonal agency. In the second place, it does the like by
direct repression of intellectual culture. Naturally a life
occupied in acquiring knowledge, like a life occupied in
industry, is regarded with contempt by a people devoted to
arms. The Spartans clearly exemplified this relation in ancient
times ; and it was again exemplified during feudal ages in
Europe, when learning was scorned as proper only for clerks
and the children of mean people. And obviously, in propor
tion as warlike activities are antagonistic to study and the
spread of knowledge, they further retard that emancipation
from primitive ideas which ends in recognition of natural
uniformities. In the third place, and chiefly, the effect in
question is produced by the conspicuous and perpetual expe
rience of personal agency which the militant regime yields.
In the army, from the commander-in-chief down to the
private undergoing drill, every movement is directed by a
superior; and throughout the society, in proportion as its
regimentation is elaborate, things are hourly seen to go thus
or thus according to the regulating wills of the ruler and his
subordinates. In the interpretation of social affairs, personal
causation is consequently alone recognized. History comes
to be made up of the doings of remarkable men ; and it is
tacitly assumed that societies have been formed by them.
Wholly foreign to the habit of mind as is the thought of
impersonal causation, the course of social evolution is unper-
ceived. The natural genesis of social structures and functions
is an utterly alien conception, and appears absurd when
alleged. The notion of a self-regulating social process is
unintelligible. So that militancy moulds the citizen into a
form not only morally adapted but intellectually adapted — a
form which cannot think away from the entailed system.
§ 561. In three ways, then, we are shown the character of
the militant type of social organization. Observe the con-
gruities which comparison of results discloses.
Certain conditions, manifest a priori, have to be fulfilled by
THE MILITANT TYPE OF SOCIETY. 601
a society fitted for preserving itself in presence of anta
gonist societies. To be in the highest degree efficient, the
corporate action needed for preserving the corporate life must
be joined in by every one. Other things equal, the fighting
power will be greatest where those who cannot fight, labour
exclusively to support and help those who can : an evident
implication being that the working part shall be no larger
than is required for these ends. The efforts of all being
utilized directly or indirectly for war, will be most effectual
when they are most combined ; and, besides union among the
combatants, there must be such union of the non-combatants
with them as renders the aid of these fully and promptly
available. To satisfy these requirements, the life, the actions,
and the possessions, of each individual must be held at the
service of the society. This universal service, this combina
tion, and this merging of individual claims, pre-suppose a
despotic controlling agency. That the will of the soldier-
chief may be operative when the aggregate is large, there
must be sub-centres and sub-sub-centres in descending grades,
through whom orders may be conveyed and enforced, both
throughout the combatant part and the non-combatant part.
As the commander tells the soldier both what he shall not do
and what he shall do ; so, throughout the militant community
at large, the rule is both negatively regulative and positively
regulative : it not only restrains, but it directs : the citizen
as well as the soldier lives under a system of compulsory
cooperation. Development of the militant type involves
increasing rigidity, since the cohesion, the combination, the
subordination, and the regulation, to which the units of a
society are subjected by it, inevitably decrease their ability
to change their social positions, their occupations, their locali
ties.
On ir specting sundry societies, past and present, large and
small, which are, or have been, characterized in high degrees
by militancy, we are shown, a posteriori, that amid the dif
ferences due to race, to circumstances, and to degrees of
602 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
development, there are fundamental similarities of the kinds
above inferred a priori. Modern Dahomey and Russia, as
well as ancient Peru, Egypt, and Sparta, exemplify that
owning of the individual by the State in life, liberty, and
goods, which is proper to a social system adapted for war.
And that with changes further fitting a society for warlike
activities, there spread throughout it an officialism, a dictation,
and a superintendence, akin to those under which soldiers
live, we are shown by imperial Eome, by imperial Germany,
and by England since its late aggressive activities.
Lastly comes the evidence furnished by the adapted cha
racters of the men who compose militant societies. Making
success in war the highest glory, they are led to identify good
ness with bravery and strength. Revenge becomes a sacred
duty with them ; and acting at home on the law of retaliation
which they act on abroad, they similarly, at home as abroad,
are ready to sacrifice others to self : their sympathies, con
tinually deadened during war, cannot be active during peace.
They must have a patriotism which regards the triumph of
their society as the supreme end of action ; they must pos
sess the loyalty whence flows obedience to authority; and
that they may be obedient they must have abundant faith.
With faith in authority and consequent readiness to be
directed, naturally goes relatively little power of initiation.
The habit of seeing everything officially controlled fosters the
belief that official control is everywhere needful; while a course
of life which makes personal causation familiar and negatives
experience of impersonal causation, produces an inability t}
conceive of any social processes as carried on under self-
regulating arrangements. And these traits of individual
nature, needful concomitants as we see of the militant type,
are those which we observe in the members of actual militant
societies.
CHAPTER XYIIL
THE INDUSTKIAL TYPE OF SOCIETY.
§ 562. Having nearly always to defend themselves against
external enemies, while they have to carry on internally tho
processes of sustentation, societies, as remarked in the last
chapter, habitually present us with mixtures of the structures
adapted to these diverse ends. Disentanglement is not easy.
According as either structure predominates it ramifies through
the other : instance the fact that where the militant type is
much developed, the worker, ordinarily a slave, is no more
free than the soldier; while, where the industrial type is
much developed, the soldier, volunteering on specified terms,
acquires in so far the position of a free worker. In the one
case the system of status, proper to the fighting part, pervades
the working part ; while in the other the system of contract,
proper to the working part, affects the fighting part. Especi
ally does the organization adapted for war obscure that
adapted for industry. While, as we have seen, the militant
type as theoretically constructed, is so far displayed in many
societies as to leave no doubt about its essential nature, the
industrial type has its traits so hidden by those of the still-
dominant militant type, that its nature is nowhere more than
very partially exemplified. Saying thus much to exclude
expectations which cannot be fulfilled, it will be well also to
exclude certain probable misconceptions.
In the first place, industrialism must not be confounded
with industriousness. Though the members of an industrially-
organized society are habitually industrious, and are, indeed,
604: POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
when the society is a developed one, obliged to be so ; yet it
must not be assumed that the industrially-organized society
is one in which, of necessity, much work is done. Where
the society is small, and its habitat so favourable that life
may be comfortably maintained with but little exertion, the
social relations which characterize the industrial type may co
exist with but very moderate productive activities. It ia
not the diligence of its members which constitutes the
society an industrial one in the sense here intended, but the
form of cooperation under which their labours, small or great
in amount, are carried on. This distinction will be best under
stood on observing that, conversely, there may be, and often
is, great industry in societies framed on the militant type.
In ancient Egypt there was an immense labouring population
and a large supply of commodities, numerous in their kinds,
produced by it. Still more did ancient Peru exhibit a vast
community purely militant in its structure, the members of
which worked unceasingly. We are here concerned, then, not
with the quantity of labour but with the mode of organi
zation of the labourers. A regiment of soldiers can be set
to construct earth- works; another to cut down wood; another
to bring in water ; but they are not thereby reduced for the
time being to an industrial society. The united individuals
do these several things under command ; and having no
private claims to the products, are, though industrially oc
cupied, not industrially organized. And the same holds
throughout the militant society as a whole, in proportion as
the regimentation of it approaches completeness.
The industrial type of society, properly so called, must
also be distinguished from a type very likely to be con
founded with it — the type, namely, in which the component
individuals, while exclusively occupied in production and
distribution, are under a regulation such as that advocated
by socialists and communists. For this, too, involves in
another form the principle of compulsory cooperation,
Directly or indirectly, individuals are to be prevented from
THE INDUSTRIAL TYPE OF SOCIETY. 605
severally and independently occupying themselves as they
please ; are to be prevented from competing with one another
in supplying goods for money ; are to he prevented from
hiring themselves out on such terms as they think fit. There
can he no artificial system for regulating labour which does
not interfere with the natural system. To such extent as
men are debarred from making whatever engagements they
like, they are to that extent working under dictation. Xo
matter in what way the controlling agency is constituted, it
stands towards those controlled in the same relation as does
the controlling agency of a militant society. And how truly
the rfyime which those who declaim against competition
would establish, is thus characterized, we see both in the fact
that communistic forms of organization existed in early
societies which were predominantly warlike, and in the fact
that at the present time communistic projects chiefly originate
among, and are most favoured by, the more warlike societies.
A further preliminary explanation may be needful. The
structures proper to the industrial type of society must not
be looked for in distinct forms when they first appear. Con
trariwise, we must expect them to begin in vague unsettled
forms. Arising, as they do, by modification of pre-existing
structures, they are necessarily long in losing all trace of
these. For example, transition from the state in which the
labourer, owned like a beast, is maintained that he may work
exclusively for his master's benefit, to the condition in which
he is completely detached from master, soil, and locality, and
free to work anywhere and for anyone, is through gradations.
Again, the change from the arrangement proper to militancy,
under which subject-persons receive, in addition to main
tenance, occasional presents, to the arrangement under which,
in place of both, they received fixed wages, or salaries, or
fees, goes on slowly and unobtrusively. Once more it is
observable that the process of exchange, originally indefinite,
has become definite only where industrialism is considerably
developed. Barter began, not with a distinct intention of
G06 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
giving one thing for another thing equivalent in value, but it
began by making a present and receiving a present in return ;
and even now in the East there continue traces of this
primitive transaction. In Cairo the purchase of articles from
a shopkeeper is preceded by his offer of coffee and cigarettes;
and during the negotiation which ends in the engagement of
a dakabeah, the dragoman brings gifts and expects to receive
them. Add to which that there exists under such conditions
none of that definite equivalence which characterizes ex
change among ourselves : prices are not fixed, but vary
widely with every fresh transaction. So that throughout our
interpretations we must keep in view the truth, that the
structures and functions proper to the industrial type dis
tinguish themselves but gradually from those proper to the
militant type.
Having thus prepared the way, let us now consider what
are, a priori, the traits of that social organization which,
entirely unfitted for carrying on defence against external
enemies, is exclusively fitted for maintaining the life of the
society by subserving the lives of its units. As before iii
treating of the militant type, so here in treating of the indus
trial type, we will consider first its ideal form.
§ 563. While corporate action is the primary requirement
in a society which has to preserve itself in presence of hostile
societies, conversely, in the absence of hostile societies,
corporate action is no longer the primary requirement.
The continued existence of a society implies, first, that it
shall not be destroyed bodily by foreign foes, and implies,
second, that it shall not be destroyed in detail by failure of
its members to support and propagate themselves. If danger
of destruction from the first cause ceases, there remains only
danger of destruction from the second cause. Sustentation
of the society will now be achieved by the self-sustentation
and multiplication of its units. If his own welfare and the
welfare of his offspring is fully achieved by each, the welfare
THE INDUSTRIAL TYPE OF SOCIETY. 607
of the society is by implication achieved. Comparatively
little corporate activity is now required. Each man may
maintain himself by labour, may exchange his products for
the products of others, may give aid and receive payment,
may enter into this or that combination for carrying on an
undertaking, small or great, without the direction of the
society as a whole. The remaining end to be achieved by
public action is to keep private actions within due bounds ;
and the amount of public action needed for this becomes
small in proportion as private actions become duly self-
bounded.
So that whereas in the militant type the demand for cor
porate action is intrinsic, such demand for corporate action
as continues in the industrial type is mainly extrinsic — is
called for by those aggressive traits of human nature which
chronic warfare has fostered, and may gradually diminish as,
under enduring peaceful life, these decrease.
§ 564. In a society organized for militant action, the indi
viduality of each member has to be so subordinated in life,
liberty, and property, that he is largely, or completely, owned
by the State ; but in a society industrially organized, no such
subordination of the individual is called for. There remain
no occasions on which he is required to risk his life
while destroying the lives of others; he is not forced to
leave his occupation and submit to a commanding officer;
and it ceases to be needful that he should surrender for public
purposes whatever property is demanded of him.
Under the industrial regime the citizen's individuality,
instead of being sacrificed by the society, has to be defended
by the society. Defence of his individuality becomes the
society's essential duty. That after external protection is no
longer called for, internal protection must become the cardinal
function of the State, and that effectual discharge of this
function must be a predominant trait of the industrial type,
may be readily shown.
608 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
For it is clear that, other things equal, a society in which
life, liberty, and property, are secure, and all interests justly
regarded, must prosper more than one in which they are not ;
and, consequently, among competing industrial societies,
there must be a gradual replacing of those in which personal
rights are imperfectly maintained, by those in which they are
perfectly maintained. So that by survival of the fittest must
be produced a social type in which individual claims, con
sidered as sacred, are trenched on by the State no further
than is requisite to pay the cost of maintaining them, or
rather, of arbitrating among them. Tor the aggressiveness of
nature fostered by militancy having died out, the corporate
function becomes that of deciding between those conflicting
claims, the equitable adjustment of which is not obvious to
the persons concerned.
§ 565. With the absence of need for that corporate action
by which the efforts of the whole society may be utilized for
war, there goes the absence of need for a despotic controlling
agency.
Not only is such an agency unnecessary, but it cannot
exist. For since, as we see, it is an essential requirement of
the industrial type, that the individuality of each man shall
have the fullest play compatible with the like play of other
men's individualities, despotic control, showing itself as it
must by otherwise restricting men's individualities, is neces
sarily excluded. Indeed, by his mere presence an autocratic
ruler is an aggressor on citizens. Actually or potentially
exercising power not given by them, he in so far restrain
their wills more than they would be restrained by mutua*
limitation merely.
§ 566. Such control as is required under the industrial
type, can be exercised only by an appointed agency for ascer
taining and executing the average will ; and a representative
agency is the one bpst fitted for doing this.
THE INDUSTRIAL TYPE OF SOCIETY. 609
Unless the activities of all are homogeneous in kind, which
they cannot be in a developed society with its elaborate divi
sion of labour, there arises a need for conciliation of diver
gent interests; and to the end of insuring an equitable
adjustment, each interest must be enabled duly to express
itself. It is, indeed, supposable that the appointed agency
should be a single individual. But no such single individual
could arbitrate justly among numerous classes variously occu
pied, without hearing evidence : each would have to send
representatives setting forth its claims. Hence the choice
would lie between two systems, under one of which the
representatives privately and separately stated their cases to
an arbitrator on whose single judgment decisions depended ;
and under the other of which these representatives stated
their cases in one another's presence, while judgments were
openly determined by the general consensus. Without insist
ing on the fact that a fair balancing of class -interests is more
likely to be effected by this last form of representation than
by the first, it is sufficient to remark that it is more congruous
with the nature of the industrial type ; since men's indi
vidualities are in the smallest degree trenched upon. Citizens
who, appointing a single ruler for a prescribed time, may
have a majority of their wills traversed by his during this
time, surrender their individualities in a greater degree than
do those who, from their local groups, depute a number of
rulers ; since these, speaking and acting under public inspec
tion and mutually restrained, habitually conform their deci
sions to the wills of the majority.
§ 567. The corporate life of the society being no longer in
danger, and the remaining business of government being that
of maintaining the conditions requisite for the highest indi
vidual life, there comes the question — What are these condi- •
tions ?
Already they have been implied as comprehended under
the administration of justice ; but so vaguely is the meaning
610 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
of this phrase commonly conceived, that a more specific state
ment must be made. Justice then, as here to be understood,
means preservation of the normal connexions between acts
and results — the obtainment by each of as much benefit as
Ids efforts are equivalent to — no more and no less. Living
and working within the restraints imposed by one another's
presence, justice requires that individuals shall severally
take the consequences of their conduct, neither increased nor
decreased. The superior shall have the good of his superiority ;
and the inferior the evil of his inferiority. A veto is there
fore put on all public action which abstracts from some men
part of the advantages they have earned, and awards to other
men advantages they have not earned.
That from the developed industrial type of society there
are excluded all forms of communistic distribution, the inevi
table trait of which is that they tend to equalize the lives of
good and bad, idle and diligent, is readily proved. For when,
the struggle for existence between societies by war having
ceased, there remains only the industrial struggle for existence,
the final survival and spread must be on the part of those
societies which produce the largest number of the best indi
viduals — individuals best adapted for life in the industrial state.
Suppose two societies, otherwise equal, in one of which the supe
rior are allowed to retain, for their own benefit and the benefit
of their offspring, the entire proceeds of their labour ; but in
the other of which the superior have taken from them part of
these proceeds for the benefit of the inferior and their offspring.
Evidently the superior will thrive and multiply more in the
first than in the second. A greater number of the best
children will be reared in the first ; and eventually it will
outgrow the second. It must not be inferred that private and
voluntary aid to the inferior is negatived, but only public
and enforced aid. Whatever effects the sympathies of the
better for the worse spontaneously produce, cannot, of course,
be interfered with ; and will, on the whole, be beneficial. For
while, on the average, the better will not carry such efforts so
THE INDUSTRIAL TYPE OF SOCIETY. 611
fur as to impede their own multiplication, they will carry
them far enough to mitigate the ill-fortunes of the worse with
out helping them to multiply.
§568. Otherwise regarded, this system under which the
efforts of each bring neither more nor less than their natural
returns, is the system of contract.
We have seen that the regime of status is in all ways
proper to the militant type. It is the concomitant of that
graduated subordination by which the combined action of a
fighting body is achieved, and which must pervade the fighting
society at large to insure its corporate action. Under this
regime, the relation between labour and produce is traversed
by authority. As in the army, the food, clothing, &c., received
by each soldier are not direct returns for work done, but are
arbitrarily apportioned, while duties are arbitrarily enforced ;
so throughout the rest of the militant society, the superior
dictates the labour and assigns such share of the returns as
he pleases. But as, with declining militancy and growing
industrialism, the power and range of authority decrease
while uncontrolled action increases, the relation of contract
becomes general ; and in the fully-developed industrial type
it becomes universal.
Under this universal relation of contract when equitably
administered, there arises that adjustment of benefit to effort
which the arrangements of the industrial society have to
achieve. If each as producer, distributor, manager, adviser,
teacher, or aider of other kind, obtains from his fellows such
payment for his service as its value, determined by the
demand, warrants; then there results that correct appor
tioning of reward to merit which ensures the prosperity of
the superior.
§ 569. Again changing the point of view, we see that
whereas public control in the militant type is both positively
regulative and negatively regulative, in the industrial type it
98
612 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
is negatively regulative only. To the slave, to the soldier, 01
to other member of a community organized for war, authority
says — " Thou shalt do this ; thou shalt not do that/' But to
the member of the industrial community, authority gives
only one of these orders — " Thou shalt not do that."
For people who, carrying on their private transactions ly
voluntary cooperation, also voluntarily cooperate to form and
support a governmental agency, are, by implication, people
who authorize it to impose on their respective activities, only
those restraints which they are all interested in maintaining —
the restraints which check aggressions. Omitting criminals
(who under the assumed conditions must be very few, if not
a vanishing quantity), each citizen will wish to preserve unin-
vaded his sphere of action, while not invading others' spheres,
and to retain whatever benefits are achieved within it. The
very motive which prompts all to unite in upholding a public
protector of their individualities, will also prompt them to
unite in preventing any interference with their individuali
ties beyond that required for this end.
Hence it follows that while, in the militant type, regi
mentation in the army is paralleled by centralized adminis
tration throughout the society at large ; in the industrial type,
administration, becoming decentralized, is at the same time
narrowed in its range. Nearly all public organizations save
that for administering justice, necessarily disappear; since
they have the common character that they either aggress on
the citizen by dictating his actions, or by taking from him
more property than is needful for protecting him, or by both.
Those who are forced to send their children to this or that
school, those who have, directly or indirectly, to help in sup
porting a State priesthood, those from whom rates are demanded
that parish officers may administer public charity, those who
arc taxed to provide gratis reading for people who wil] not
save money for library subscriptions, those whose businesses
aie carried on under regulation by inspectors, those who have
to pay the costs of State science-and-art-teaching, State
THE INDUSTRIAL TYPE OF SOCIETY. 613
emigration, &c., all have their individualities trenched upon,
either by compelling them to do what they would not spon
taneously do, or by taking away money which else would have
furthered their private ends. Coercive arrangements of such
kinds, consistent with the militant type, are inconsistent with
the industrial type.
§ 570. With the relatively narrow range of public organi
zations, there goes, in the industrial type, a relatively wide
range of private organizations. The spheres left vacant by the
one are filled by the other.
Several influences conspire to produce this trait. Those
motives which, in the absence of that subordination necessi
tated by war, make citizens unite in asserting their indi
vidualities subject only to mutual limitations, are motives
which make them unite in resisting any interference with
their freedom to form such private combinations as do not
involve aggression. Moreover, beginning with exchanges of
goods and services under agreements between individuals, the
principle of voluntary cooperation is simply carried out in a
larger way by individuals who, incorporating themselves,
contract with one another for jointly pursuing this or that
business or function. And yet again, there is entire con-
gruity between the representative constitutions of such private
combinations, and that representative constitution of the
public combination which we see is proper to the industrial
type. The same law of organization pervades the society in
general and in detail. So that an inevitable trait of the
industrial type is the multiplicity and heterogeneity of asso
ciations, political, religious, commercial, professional, philan
thropic, and social, of all sizes.
§ 571. Two indirectly resulting traits of the industrial type
must be added. The first is its relative plasticity.
So long as corporate action is necessitated for national self-
preservation — so long as, to effect combined defence or offence,
614 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
there is maintained that graduated subordination which ties
all inferiors to superiors, as the soldier is tied to his officer — •
so long as there is maintained the relation of status, which
tends to fix men in the positions they are severally born to ;
there is insured a comparative rigidity of social organization.
But with the cessation of those needs that initiate and pre
serve the militant type of structure, and with the establish
ment of contract as the universal relation under which efforts
are combined for mutual advantage, social organization loses
its rigidity. No longer determined by the principle of inheri
tance, places and occupations are now determined by the
principle of efficiency ; and changes of structure follow when
men, not bound to prescribed functions, acquire the functions
for which they have proved themselves most fit. Easily modi
fied in its arrangements, the industrial type of society is
therefore one which adapts itself with facility to new require
ments.
§ 572. The other incidental result to be named is a ten
dency towards loss of economic autonomy.
While hostile relations with' adjacent societies continuj,
each society has to be productively self-sufficing ; but with
the establishment of peaceful relations, this need for self-
sufficingness ceases. As the local divisions composing one
of our great nations, had, while they were at feud, to produce
each for itself almost everything it required, but now per
manently at peace with one another, have become so far
mutually dependent that no one of them can satisfy its wants
without aid from the rest; so the great nations themselves, at
present forced in large measure to maintain their economic
autonomies, will become less forced to do this as war de
creases, and will gradually become necessary to one another.
While, on the one hand, the facilities possessed by each for
certain kinds of production, will render exchange mutually
advantageous ; on the other hand, the citizens of each will,
under the industrial regime, tolerate no such restraints on
THE INDUSTRIAL TYPE OF SOCIETY. 615
their individualities as are implied by interdicts on exchange
or impediments to exchange.
With the spread of industrialism, therefore, the tendency
is towards the breaking down of the divisions between
nat-ionalities, and the running through them of a common
organization: if not under a single government, then under
a federation of governments.
o
§ 573. Such being the constitution of the industrial type
of society to be inferred from its requirements, we have now
to inquire what evidence is furnished by actual societies
that approach towards this constitution accompanies the
progress of industrialism.
As, during the peopling of the Earth, the struggle for ex
istence among societies, from small hordes up to great
nations, has been nearly everywhere going on ; it is, as before
said, not to be expected that we should readily find examples
of the social type appropriate to an exclusively industrial
life. Ancient records join the journals of the day in proving
that thus far no civilized or semi-civilized nation has fallen
into circumstances making needless all social structures for
resisting aggression; and from every region travellers' ac
counts bring evidence that almost universally among the
uncivilized, hostilities between tribes are chronic. Still, a
few examples exist which show, with tolerable clearness, the
outline of the industrial type in its rudimentary form — the
form which it assumes where culture has made but little pro
gress. We will consider these first ; and then proceed to
disentangle the traits distinctive of the industrial type as
exhibited by large nations which have become predominantly
industrial in their activities.
Among the Indian hills there ate many tribes belonging to
different races, but alike in their partially-nomadic habits.
Mostly agricultural, their common practice is to cultivate a
patch of ground while it yields average crops, and when it ia
exhausted to go elsewhere ar d repeat the process. They have
POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
fled before inrading peoples, and have here and there found
localities in which they are able to carry on their peaceful
occupations unmolested : the absence of molestation being, in
somes cases, due to their ability to live in a malarious atmo
sphere which is fatal to the Aryan races. Already, under
other heads, I have referred to the Bodo and to the Dhiraals
as wholly unmilitary, as lacking political organization, as
being without slaves or social grades, and as aiding one
another in their heavier undertakings ; to the Todas, who,
leading tranquil lives, are " without any of those bonds of
union which man in general is induced to form from a sense
of danger," and who settle their disputes by arbitration or by
a council of five ; to the Mishmies as being unwarlike, as
having but nominal chiefs, and as administering justice by
an assembly ; and I have joined with these the case of a
people remote in locality and race — the ancient Pueblos of
North America — who, sheltering in their walled vil'ages and
righting only when invaded, similarly united with their
habitually industrial life a free form of government : " the
governor and his council are [were] annually elected by the
people/' Here I may add sundry kindred examples.
As described in the Indian Government Eeport for 1869 —
70, " the ' white Karens ' are of a mild and peaceful disposi
tion, . . . their chiefs are regarded as patriarchs, who have
little more than a nominal authority ; " or, as said of them by
Lieut. McMahon, " they possess neither laws nor dominant
authority." Instance, again, the " fascinating " Lepchas ;
not industrious, but yet industrial in the sense that their
social relations are of the non-militant type. Though I find
nothing specific said about the system under which they live
in their temporary villages ; yet the facts told us sufficiently
imply its uncoercive character. They have no castes ; " family
and political feuds are alike unheard of amongst them ; "
" they are averse to soldiering ; " they prefer taking refuge in
the jungle and living on wild food " to enduring any injustice
or harsh treatment " — traits which negative ordinary politico]
THE INDUSTRIAL TYPE OF SOCIETY. 617
control. Take next the " quiet, unoffensive M Santals, wlio,
while they fight if need be with infatuated bravery to resist
aggression, are essentially unaggressive. These people " are
industrious cultivators, and enjoy their existence unfettered
by caste." Though, having become tributaries, there habi
tually exists in each village a head appointed by the Indian
Government to be responsible for the tribute, &c. ; yet the
nature of their indigenous government remains sufficiently
clear. While there is a patriarch who is honoured, but who
rarely interferes, " every village has its council place, . . .
where the committee assemble and discuss the affairs of the
village and its inhabitants. All petty disputes, both of a
civil and criminal nature, are settled there." What little is
told us of tribes living in the Shervaroy Hills is, so far as it
goes, to like effect. Speaking generally of them, Shortt says
they " are essentially a timid and harmless people, addicted
chiefly to pastoral and agricultural pursuits ; " and more
specifically describing one division of them, he says " they
lead peaceable lives among themselves, and any dispute that
may arise is usually settled by arbitration." Then, to show
that these social traits are not peculiar to any one variety of
man, but are dependent on conditions, I may recall the
before-named instance of the Papuan Arafuras, who, without
any divisions of rank or hereditary chieftainships, live in
harmony, controlled only by the decisions of their assembled
elders. In all which cases we may discern the leading traits
above indicated as proper to societies not impelled to corpo
rate action by war. Strong centralized control not being
required, such government as exists is exercised by a council,
informally approved— a rude representative government ;
claas -distinctions do not exist, or are but faintly indicated —
the relation of status is absent ; whatever transactions take
place between individuals are by agreement ; and the furic-
tiuii which the ruling body has to perform, becomes substan
tially limited to protecting private life by settling such disputes
as arise, and inflicting mild punishments for small offences.
618 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
Difficulties meet us when, turning to civilized societies, we
seek in them for traits of the industrial type. Consoli
dated and organized as they have all been by wars actively
carried on throughout the earlier periods of their existence,
and mostly continued down to recent times ; and having
simultaneously been developing within themselves organiza
tions for producing and distributing commodities, which have
little by little become contrasted with those proper to mili
tant activities ; the two are everywhere presented so mingled
that clear separation of the first from the last is, as said at
the outset, scarcely practicable. Radically opposed, however,
as is compulsory cooperation, the organizing principle of the
militant type, to voluntary cooperation, the organizing prin
ciple of the industrial type, we may, by observing the decline
of institutions exhibiting the one, recognize, by implication,
the growth of institutions exhibiting the other. Hence if, in
passing from the first states of civilized nations in which war
is the business of life, to states in which hostilities are but
occasional, we simultaneously pass to states in which the
ownership of tho individual by his society is not so con
stantly and strenuously enforced, in which the subjection of
rank to rank is mitigated, in which political rule is no longer
autocratic, in which the regulation of citizens' lives is dimi
nished in range and rigour, while the protection of them is
increased ; we are, by implication, shown the traits of a de
veloping industrial type. Comparisons of several kinds
disclose results which unite in verifying this truth.
Take, first, the broad contrast between the early condition
of the more civilized European nations at large, and their
later condition. Setting out from the dissolution of the
Roman empire, we observe that for many centuries during
which conflicts were effecting consolidations, and dissolutions,
and re-consolidations in endless variety, such energies as
were not directly devoted to war were devoted to little else
than supporting the organizations which carried on war : the
working part of each community did not exist for its own
THE INDUSTRIAL TYPE OF SOCIETY. 619
sake, but for the sake of the fighting part. While militancy
was thus high and industrialism undeveloped, the reign of
superior strength, continually being established by societies
one over another, was equally displayed within each society.
Prom slaves and serfs, through vassals of different grades up
to dukes and kings, there was an enforced subordination by
which the individualities of all were greatly restricted. And
at the same time that, to carry on external aggression or
resistance, the ruling power in each group sacrificed the
personal claims of its members, the function of defending its
members from one another was in but small degree discharged
by it : they were left to defend themselves. If with
these traits of European societies in mediaeval times, we com
pare their traits in modern times, we see the following
essential differences. First, with the formation of nations
covering large areas, the perpetual wars within each area
have ceased ; and though the wars between nations which
from time to time occur are on larger scales, they are less
frequent, and they are no longer the business of all freemen.
Second, there has grown up in each country a relatively large
population which carries on production and distribution for
its own maintenance ; so that whereas of old, the working
part existed for the benefit of the fighting part, now the
fighting part exists mainly for the benefit of the working
part — exists ostensibly to protect it in the quiet pursuit of
its ends. Third, the system of status, having under some of
its forms disappeared and under others become greatly miti
gated, has been almost universally replaced by the system of
contract. Only among those who, by choice or by conscrip
tion, are incorporated in the military organization, ioes the
system of status in its primitive rigour still hold so long
as they remain in this organization. Fourth, with this de
crease of compulsory cooperation and increase of voluntary
cooperation, there have diminished or ceased many minor
restraints over individual actions. Men are less tied to their
localities than they were ; they are not obliged to profess
620 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
certain religious opinions ; they are less debarred from ex
pressing their political views; they no longer have their
dresses and modes of living dictated to them; they are
comparatively little restrained from forming private com
binations and holding meetings for one or other purpose — •
political, religious, social. Fifth, while the individualities of
citizens are less aggressed upon by public agency, they are
more protected by public agency against aggression. Instead
of a regime under which individuals rectified their private
wrongs by force as well as they could, or else bribed the ruler,
general or local, to use his power in their behalf, there has
come a rfyiine under which, while much less self-protection
is required, a chief function of the ruling power and its
agents is to administer justice. In all ways, then, we are
shown that with this relative decrease of militancy and
relative increase of industrialism, there has been a change
from a social order in which individuals exist for the benefit
of the State, to a social order in which the State exists for
the benefit of individuals.
When, instead of contrasting early European communities
at large with European communities at large as they now
exist, we contrast the one in which industrial development
has been less impeded by militancy with those in which it
has been more impeded by militancy, parallel results are
apparent. Between our own society and continental societies,
as for example, France, the differences which have gradually
arisen may be cited in illustration. After the con
quering "Normans had spread over England, there was esta
blished here a much greater subordination of local rulers to
the general ruler than existed in France; and, as a result,
there was not nearly so much internal dissension. Says
Hallam, speaking of this period, "we read very little of
private wars in England." Though from time to time, as
under Stephen, there were rebellions, and though there were
occasional fights between nobles, yet for some hundred and
fifty years, up to the time of King John, the subjection main-
THE INDUSTRIAL TYPE OF SOCIETY. 621
tained secured comparative order. Further, it is to be noted
that such general wars as occurred were mostly carried on
abroad. Descents on our coasts were few and unimportant,
and conflicts with Wales, Scotland, and Ireland, entailed but
few intrusions on English soil. Consequently, there was a
relatively small hindrance to industrial life and the growth
of social forms appropriate to it. Meanwhile, the condition
of France was widely different. During this period and long
after, besides wars with England (mostly fought out on
French soil) and wars with other countries, there were going
on everywhere local wars. From the 10th to the 14th century
perpetual fights between suzerains and their vassals occurred,
as well as fights of vassals with one another. Not until
towards the middle of the 14th century did the king begin
greatly to predominate over the nobles; and only in the
15th century was there established a supreme ruler strong
enough to prevent the quarrels of local rulers. How great
was the repression of industrial development caused by
internal conflicts, may be inferred from the exaggerated
language of an old writer, who says of this period, during
which the final struggle of monarchy with feudalism was
going on, that "agriculture, traffic, and all the mechanical
arts ceased." Such being the contrast between the
small degree in which industrial life was impeded by war in
England, and the great degree in which it was impeded by
war in France, let us ask — what were the political contrasts
which arose. The first fact to be noted is that in the middle
of the 13th century there began in England a mitigation of
villeinage, by limitation of labour-services and commutation
of them for money, and that in the 14th century the trans
formation of a servile into a free population had in great
measure taken place ; while in France, as in other continental
countries, the old condition survived and became worse. As
Mr. Freeman says of this period — "in England villeinage
was on the whole dying out, while in many other countries it
was getting harder and harder." Besides this spreading sub-
622 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
stitution of contract for status, which, taking place first in
the industrial centres, the towns, afterwards went on in the
rural districts, there was going on an analogous enfranchise
ment of the noble class. The enforced military obligations of
vassals were more and more replaced by money payments or
scutages ; so that by King John's time, the fighting services
of the upper class had been to a great extent compounded
for, like the labour services of the lower class. After dimi
nished restraints over persons, there came diminished invasions
of property. By the Charter, arbitrary tallages on towns and
non-military king's tenants were checked ; and while the
aggressive actions of the State were thus decreased, its pro
tective actions were extended : provisions were made that
justice should be neither sold, delayed, nor denied. All
which changes were towards those social arrangements which
we see characterize the industrial type. Then, in the next
place, we have the subsequently-occurring rise of a represen
tative government ; which, as shown in a preceding chapter
by another line of inquiry, is at once the product of industrial
growth and the form proper to the industrial type. But in
France none of these changes took place. Villeinage remain
ing unmitigated continued to comparatively late times ; com
pounding for military obligation of vassal to suzerain was less
general ; and when there arose tendencies towards the esta
blishment of an assembly expressing the popular will, they
proved abortive. Detailed comparisons of subsequent
periods and their changes would detain us too long : it must
suffice to indicate the leading facts. Beginning with the date
at which, under the influences just indicated, parliamentary
government was finally established in England, we find that
for a century and a half, down to the Wars of the Eoses, the
internal disturbances were few and unimportant compared
with those which took place in France ; and at the same
time (remembering that the wars between England and
France, habitually taking place on French soil, affected the
state of France more than that of England) we note that
THF INDUSTRIAL TYPE OF SOCIETY. 623
France carried on serious wars with Flanders, Castille and
Navarre besides the struggle with Burgundy: the result
being that while in England popular power as expressed by
the House of Commons became settled and increased, such
power as the States General had acquired in France, dwindled
away. Not forgetting that by the Wars of the Eoses, lasting
over thirty years, there was initiated a return towards
absolutism; let us contemplate the contrasts which subse
quently arose. For a century and a half after these civil con-
flicts ended, there were but few and trivial breaches of internal
peace ; while such wars as went on with foreign powers, not
numerous, took place as usual out of England. During this
period the retrograde movement which the Wars of the
Eoses set up, was reversed, and popular power greatly in
creased ; so that in the words of Mr. Bagehot, " the slavish
parliament of Henry VIII. grew into the murmuring parlia
ment of Queen Elizabeth, the mutinous Parliament of
James I., and the rebellious parliament of Charles I/' Mean
while France, during the first third of this period, had been
engaged in almost continuous external wars with Itaty,
Spain, and Austria ; while during the remaining two-thirds,
it suffered from almost continuous internal wars, religious
and political : the accompanying result being that, notwith
standing resistances from time to time made, the monarchy
became increasingly despotic. Fully to make manifest
the different social types which had been evolved under these
different conditions, we have to compare not only the respec
tive political constitutions but also the respective systems of
social control. Observe what these were at the time when
there commenced that reaction which ended in the French
revolution. In harmony with the theory of the militant type,
that the individual is in life, liberty, and property, owned by
the State, the monarch was by some held to be the universal
proprietor. The burdens he imposed upon landowners were
so grievous that a part of them preferred abandoning their
estates to paying. Then besides the taking of property by
624: POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
the State, there was the taking of labour. One-fo.irth of tha
working days in the year went to the corvees, due now to the
king and now to the feudal lord. Such liberties as were
allowed, had to be paid for and again paid for : the municipal
privileges of towns being seven times in twenty-eight years
withdrawn and re-sold to them. Military services of nobles
and people were imperative to whatever extent the king
demanded ; and conscripts were drilled under the lash. At
the same time that the subjection of the individual to the
State was pushed to such an extreme by exactions of money
and services that the impoverished people cut the grain whilo
it was green, ate grass, and died of starvation in multitudes,
the State did little to guard their persons and homes. Con
temporary writers enlarge on the immense numbers of high
way robberies, burglaries, assassinations, and torturings of
people to discover their hoards. Herds of vagabonds, levying
blackmail, roamed about; and when, as a remedy, penalties
were imposed, innocent persons denounced as vagabonds were
sent to prison without evidence. No personal security could
be had either against the ruler or against powerful enemies.
In Paris there were some thirty prisons where untried and
unsentenced people might be incarcerated ; and the " brigand
age of justice" annually cost suitors forty to sixty millions
of francs. While the State, aggressing on citizens to such
extremes, thus failed to protect them against one another, it
was active in regulating their private lives and labours.
[Religion was dictated to the extent that Protestants were im
prisoned, sent to the galleys, or whipped, and their ministers
hanged. The quantity of salt (on which there was a heavy
tax) to be consumed by each person was prescribed ; as were
also the modes of its use. Industry of every kind was super
vised. Certain crops were prohibited ; and vines destroyed
that were on soils considered unfit. The wheat that might
be bought at market was limited to two bushels ; and sales
took place in presence of dragoons. Manufacturers were
regulated in their processes and products to the extent that
THE INDUSTRIAL TYPE OF SOCIETY. 625
there was destruction of improved appliances and of goods
not made according to law, as well as penalties upon in
ventors. Regulations succeeded one another so rapidly that
amid their multiplicity, government agents found it difficult
to carry them out ; and with increasing official orders there
en me increasing swarms of public functionaries. Turning
now to England at the same period, we see that along with
progress towards the industrial type of political structure,
carried to the extent that the House of Commons had become
the predominant power, there had gone a progress towards
the accompanying social system. Though the subjection of
the individual to the State was considerably greater than now,
it was far less than in France. His private rights were not
sacrificed in the same unscrupulous way; and he was not in
danger of a lettre de cachet. Though justice was very imper
fectly administered, still it was not administered so wretchedly:
there was a fair amount of personal security, and aggressions
on property were kept within bounds. The disabilities of
Protestant dissenters were diminished early in the century ;
and, later on, those of Catholics. Considerable freedom of
the press was acquired, showing itself in the discussion of
political questions, as well as in the publication of par
liamentary debates ; and, about the same time, there came
free speech in public meetings. While thus the State
aggressed on the individual less and protected him more, it
interfered to a smaller extent with his daily transactions.
Though there was much regulation of commerce and industry,
yet it was pushed to no such extreme as that which in France
subjected agriculturists, manufacturers, and merchants, to an
army of officials who directed their acts at every turn. In
brief, the contrast between our state and that of France was
such as to excite the surprise and admiration of various French
writers of the time ; from whom Mr. Buckle quotes numerous
passages showing this.
Most significant of all, however, are the changes in England
itself, first retrogressive and then progressive, that occurred
626 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
during the war-period which extended from 1775 to 1815,
and during the subsequent period of peace. At the end of
the last century and the beginning of this, reversion towards
ownership of the individual by the society had gone a long
way. " To statesmen, the State, as a unit, was all in all, and
it is really difficult to find any evidence that the people were
thought of at all, except in the relation of obedience." " The
Government regarded the people with little other view than
as a taxable and soldier-yielding mass." While the militant
part of the community had greatly developed, the industrial
part had approached towards the condition of a permanent
commissariat. By conscription and by press-gangs, was
carried to a relatively vast extent that sacrifice of the citizen
in life and liberty which war entails ; and the claims to
property were trenched on by merciless taxation, weighing
down the middle classes so grievously that they had greatly
to lower their rate of living, while the people at large were
so distressed (partly no doubt by bad harvests) that " hun
dreds ate nettles and other weeds." "With these major aggres
sions upon the individual by the State, went numerous
minor aggressions. Irresponsible agents of the executive
were empowered to suppress public meetings and seize their
leaders : death being the punishment for those who did not
disperse when ordered. Libraries and news-rooms could not
be opened without licence ; and it was penal to lend books
without permission. There were " strenuous attempts made
to silence the press ;" and booksellers dared not publish works
by obnoxious authors. " Spies were paid, witnesses were
suborned, juries were packed, and the habeas corpus Act being
constantly suspended, the Crown had the power of imprison
ing without inquiry and without limitation." While the
Government taxed and coerced and restrained the citizen to
this extent, its protection of him was inefficient. It is true
that the penal code was made more extensive and more severe.
The definition of treason was enlarged, and numerous offences
were made capital which were not capital before ; so that
TOE INDUSTRIAL TYPE OF SOCIETY. 627
there was "a vast and absurd variety of offences for which
men and women were sentenced to death by the score :" there
was " a devilish levity in dealing with human life." But at
the same time there was not an increase, but rather a decrease,
of security. As says Mr. Pike in his History of Crime in
England, " it became apparent that the greater the strain of
the conflict the greater is the danger of a reaction towards
violence and lawlessness." Turn now to the opposite
picture. After recovery from the prostration which prolonged
wars had left, and after the dying away of those social per
turbations caused by impoverishment, there began a revival of
traits proper to the industrial type. Coercion of the citizen
by the State decreased in various ways. Voluntary enlist
ment replaced compulsory military service ; and there dis
appeared some minor restraints over personal freedom, as
instance the repeal of laws which forbade artizans to travel
where they pleased, and which interdicted trades-unions.
With these manifestations of greater respect for personal
freedom, may be joined those shown in the amelioration of the
penal code: the public whipping of females being first
abolished ; then the long list of capital offences being reduced
until there finally remained but one ; and, eventually, the pillory
and imprisonment for debt being abolished. Such penalties
on religious independence as remained disappeared ; first by
removal of those directed against Protestant Dissenters, and
then of those which weighed on Catholics, and then of
some which told specially against Quakers and Jews. By
the Parliamentary Eeform Bill and the Municipal Eeform
Bill, vast numbers were removed from the subject classes
to the governing classes. Interferences with the business-
transactions of citizens were diminished by allowing fveo
trade in bullion, by permitting joint-stock banks, by abolish
ing multitudinous restrictions on the importation of com
modities — leaving eventually but few which pay duty. More
over while these and kindred changes, such as the removal
of restraining burdens on the press, decreased the impedi-
99
C28 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
ments to free actions of citizens, the protective action of
the State was increased. By a greatly-improved police system,
by county courts, and so forth, personal safety and claims
to property were better secured.
Not to elaborate the argument further by adding the case
of the United States, which repeats with minor differences
the same relations of phenomena, the evidence given ade
quately supports the proposition laid down. Amid all the
complexities and perturbations, comparisons show us with
sufficient clearness that in actually-existing societies those
attributes which we inferred must distinguish the industrial
type, show themselves clearly in proportion as the social
activities are predominantly characterized by exchange of
services under agreement.
§ 574 As, in the last chapter, we noted the traits of cha
racter proper to the members of a society which is habitually
at war; so here, we have to note the traits of character
proper to the members of a society occupied exclusively in
peaceful pursuits. Already in delineating above, the rudi
ments of the industrial type of social structure as exhibited
in certain small groups of unwarlike peoples, some indications
of the accompanying personal qualities have been given; but
it will be well now to emphasize these and add to them,
before observing the kindred personal qualities in more
advanced industrial communities.
Absence of a centralized coercive rule, implying as it does
feeble political restraints exercised by the society over its
units, is accompanied by a strong sense of individual freedom,
and a, determination to maintain it. The amiable Bodo and
Dhimals, as we have seen, resist "injunctions injudiciously
urged with dogged obstinacy." The peaceful Lepchas " un
dergo great privations rather than submit to oppression or
injustice." The "simple-minded Santal" has a "strong
natural sense of justice, and should any attempt be made to
coerce him, he flies the country." Similarly of a tribe not
THE INDUSTRIAL TYPE OF SOCIETY. 629
before mentioned, the Jakuns of the South Malayan Peninsula,
who, described as " entirely inoffensive," personally brave
"but peaceful, and as under no control but that of popularly-
appointed heads who settle their disputes, are also described
as " extremely proud :" the so-called pride being exemplified
by the statement that their remarkably good qualities "induced
several persons to make attempts to domesticate them, but
such essays have generally ended in the Jakuns' disappearance
on the slightest coercion."
With a strong sense of their own claims, these un warlike
men display unusual respect for the claims of others. This is
shown in the first place by the rarity of personal collisions
among them. Hodgson says that the Bodo and the Dhimals
" are void of all violence towards their own people or towards
their neighbours." Of the peaceful tribes of the Neilgherry
Hills, Colonel Ouchterlony writes: — "drunkenness and
violence are unknown amongst them.'* Campbell remarks of
the Lepchas, that " they rarely quarrel among themselves." The
Jakuns, too, " have very seldom quarrels among themselves ;"
and such disputes as arise are settled by their popularly-chosen
heads "without fighting or malice/' In like manner the
Arafuras " live in peace and brotherly love with one another."
Further, in the accounts of these peoples we read nothing
about the lex talionis. In the absence of hostilities with adja
cent groups there does not exist within each group that
" sacred duty of blood-revenge " universally recognized iu
military tribes and nations. Still more significantly, we
find evidence of the opposite doctrine and practice. Says
Campbell of the Lepchas — " they are singularly forgiving of
injuries . . . making mutual amends and concessions."
Naturally, with respect for others' individualities thus
shown, goes respect for their claims to property. Already in
the preliminary chapter I have quoted testimonies to the
great honesty of the Bodo and the Dhimals, the Lepchas, the
Santals, the Todas, and other peoples kindred in their form of
social life ; and here I may add further ones. Of the Lepchas,
630 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
Hooker remarks : — " in all my dealings with these people, they
proved scrupulously honest." "Among the pure Santals,"
writes Hunter, " crime and criminal officers are unknown ;"
while of the Hos, belonging to the same group as the Santals,
Dalton says, " a reflection on a man's honesty or veracity
may be sufficient to send him to self-destruction." Shortt
testifies that " the Todas, as a body, have never been convicted
of heinous crimes of any kind ;" and concerning other tribes
of the Shervaroy Hills, he states that "crime of a serious
nature is unknown amongst them." Again of the Jakuns we
read that " they are never known to steal anything, not even
the most insignificant trifle." And so of certain natives of
Malacca who " are naturally of a commercial tarn," Jukes
writes : — " no part of the world is freer from crime than the
district of Malacca ;" " a few petty cases of assault, or of
disputes about property . . . are all that occur."
Thus free from the coercive rule which warlike activities
necessitate, and without the sentiment which makes the
needful subordination possible — thus maintaining their own
claims while respecting the like claims of others — thus
devoid of the vengeful feelings which aggressions without
and within the tribe generate ; these peoples, instead of the
bloodthirstiness, the cruelty, the selfish trampling upon in
feriors, characterizing militant tribes and societies, display, in
unusual degrees, the humane sentiments. Insisting on their
amiable qualities, Hodgson describes the Bodo and the
Dhimals as being " almost entirely free from such as are
unamiable." Kemarking that " while courteous and hos
pitable he is firm and free from cringing," Hunter tells 113
of the Santal that he thinks " uncharitable men " will suffer
after death. Saying that the Lepchas are " ever foremost i n
the forest or on the bleak mountain, and ever ready to help,
to carry, to encamp, collect, or cook," Hooker adds — " they
cheer on the traveller by their unostentatious zeal in his
service ;" and he also adds that, "a present is divided equally
amongst many, without a syllable of discontent or grudging
THE INDUSTRIAL TYPE OF SOCIETY. 631
look or word." Of the Jakuns, too, Favre tells us that
" they are generally kind, affable, inclined to gratitude and to
beneficence : " their tendency being not to ask favours but to
confer them. And then of the peaceful Arafuras we learn
from Kolff that—
" They have a very excusable ambition to gain the name of rich men,
by paying the debts of their poorer villagers. The officer [M. Bik],
whom I quoted above, related to me a very striking instance of thia.
At Affara he was present at the election of the village chiefs, two indi
viduals aspiring to the station of Orang Tua. The people chose the
elder of the two, which greatly afflicted the other, but he soon after
wards expressed himself satisfied with the choice the people had made,
and said to M. Bik, who had been sent there on a commission, ' What
reason have I to grieve ; whether I am Orang Tua or not, I still have
it in my power to assist my fellow villagers.' Several old men agreed
to this, apparently to comfort him. Thus the only use they make of
their riches is to employ it in settling differences."
With these superiorities of the social relations in perma
nently peaceful tribes, go superiorities of the domestic rela
tions. As I have before pointed out (§ 327), while the status
of women is habitually very low in tribes given to war and
in more advanced militant societies, it is habitually very high
in these primitive peaceful societies. The Bodo and the
Dhimals, the Kocch, the Santals, the Lepchas, are monogamic,
as were also the Pueblos ; and along with their monogamy
habitually goes a superior sexual morality. Of the Lepchas
Hooker says — " the females are generally chaste, and the
marriage tie is strictly kept." Among the Santals " unchas-
tity is almost unknown," and " divorce is rare." By the
Bodo and the Dhimals, " polygamy, concubinage and adultery
are not tolerated;" "chastity is prized in man and woman,
married and unmarried." Further it is to be noted that the
behaviour to women is extremely good. " The Santal treats
the female members of his family with respect ; " the Bodo
and the Dhimals " treat their wives and daughters with con
fidence and kindness ; they are free from all out- door work
whatever." And even among the Todas, low as are the forma
of their sexual relations, " the wives are treated bv their
632 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
husbands witli marked respect and attention." Moreover, we
are told concerning sundry of these unwarlike peoples that
the status of children is also high ; and there is none of that
distinction of treatment between boys and girls which
characterizes militant peoples.
Of course on turning to the civilized to observe the form
of individual character which accompanies the industrial
form of society, we encounter the difficulty that the per
sonal traits proper to industrialism, are, like the social
traits, mingled With those proper to militancy. It is mani^
festly thus with ourselves. A nation which, besides its
occasional serious wars, is continually carrying on small wars
with uncivilized tribes — a nation which is mainly ruled in
Parliament and through the press by men whose school-
discipline led them during six days in the week to take
Achilles for their hero, and on the seventh to admire Christ
— a nation which, at its public dinners, habitually toasts its
army and navy before toasting its legislative bodies ; has not
so far emerged out of militancy that we can expect either the
institutions or the characteristics proper to industrialism
to be shown with clearness. In independence, in honesty, in
truthfulness, in humanity, its citizens are not likely to be the
equals of the uncultured but peaceful peoples above de
scribed. All we may anticipate is an approach to those
moral qualities appropriate to a state undisturbed by inter
national hostilities ; and this we find.
In the first place, with progress of the regime of contract
lias come growth of independence. Daily exchange of ser
vices under agreement, involving at once the maintenance of
personal claims and respect for the claims of others, haa
fostered a normal self-assertion and consequent resistance to
unauthorized power. The facts that the word " indepen
dence/' in its modern sense, was not in use among us before
the middle of the last century, and that on the continent
independence is less markedly displayed, suggest the con
nexion between this trait and a developing industrialism.
THE INDUSTRIAL TYPE OF SOCIETY. 633
The trait is shown in the multitudinousness of religious sects,
in the divisions of political parties, and, in minor ways, by
the absence of those " schools " in art, philosophy, &c.. which,
among continental peoples, are formed by the submission of
disciples. to an adopted master. That Englishmen show, more
than their neighbours, a jealousy of dictation, and a determi
nation to act as they think fit, will not, I think, be disputed.
The diminished subordination to authority, which is the
obverse of this independence, of course implies decrease of
loyalty. Worship of the monarch, at no time with us reach
ing the height it did in France early in the last century, or
in Russia down to recent times, has now changed into a
respect depending very much on the monarch's personal
character. Our days witness no such extreme servilities of
expression as were used by ecclesiastics in the dedication of
the Bible to King James, nor any such exaggerated adulations
as those addressed to George III. by the House of Lords.
The doctrine of divine right has long since died away ; belief
in an indwelling supernatural power (implied by the touching
for king's evil, &c.) is named as a curiosity of the past ; and
the monarchical institution has come to be defended on grounds
of expediency. So great has been the decrease of this senti
ment which, under the militant rfyime, attaches subject to
ruler, that now-a-days the conviction commonly expressed is
that, should the throne be occupied by a Charles II. or a
George IV., there would probably result a republic. And
this change of feeling is shown in the attitude towards the
Government as a whole. For not only are there many who
dispute the authority of the State in respect of sundry
matters besides religious beliefs, but there are some who
passively resist what they consider unjust exercises of its
authority, and pay fines or go to prison rather than submit.
As this last fact implies, along with decrease of loyalty has
gone decrease of faith, not in monarchs only but in govern
ments. Such belief in royal omnipotence as existed in
ancient Egypt, where the power of the ruler was supposed to
634 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
extend to the other world, as it is even now supposed to do
in China, has had no parallel in the West ; but still, among
Euroj sean peoples in past times, that confidence in the soldier-
king essential to the militant type, displayed itself among
other ways in exaggerated conceptions of his ability to rectify
mischiefs, achieve benefits, and arrange things as he willed
If we compare present opinion among ourselves with opinion
in early days, we find a decline in these credulous expecta
tions. Though, during the late retrograde movement towards
militancy, State-power has been invoked for various ends,
and faith in it has increased ; yet, up to the commencement
of this reaction, a great change had taken place in the other
direction. After the repudiation of a State-enforced creed,
there came a denial of the State's capacity for determining
religious truth, and a growing movement to relieve it from
the function of religious teaching ; held to be alike needless
and injurious. Long ago it had ceased to be thought that
Government could do any good by regulating people's food,
clothing, and domestic habits ; and over the multitudinous
processes carried on by producers and distributors, constitut
ing immensely the larger part of our social activities, we no
longer believe that legislative dictation is beneficial. More
over, every newspaper by its criticisms on the acts of ministers
and the conduct of the House of Commons, betrays the
diminished faith of citizens in their rulers. NOT is it only
by contrasts between past and present among ourselves that
we are shown this trait of a more developed industrial state.
It is shown by kindred contrasts between opinion here arid
opinion abroad. The speculations of social reformers in
France and in Germany, prove that the hope for benefits to
be achieved by State-agency is far higher with them than
with us.
Along with decrease of loyalty and concomitant decrease of
faith in the powers of governments, lias gone decrease of
patriotism — patriotism, that is, under its original form. To
light " for king and country " is an ambition which now-a-
THE INDUSTRIAL TYPE OF SOCIETY. 635
days occupies but a small space in men's minds ; and though
there is among us a majority whose sentiment is represented
by the exclamation — " Our country, right or wrong ! " yet
there are large numbers whose desire for human welfare at
large, so far oveiride? their desire for national prestige, that
they object to sacrificing the first to the last. The spirit of
self-criticism, which in sundry respects leads us to make un
favourable comparisons between ourselves and our continental
neighbours, leads us more than heretofore to blame ourselves
for wrong conduct to weaker peoples. The many and strong
reprobations of our dealings with the Afghans, the Zulus, and
the Boers, show that there is a large amount of the feeling
reprobated by the " Jingo "-class as unpatriotic.
That adaptation of individual nature to social needs, which,
in the militant state, makes men glory in war and despise
peaceful pursuits, has partially brought about among us a
converse adjustment of the sentiments. The occupation of
the soldier has ceased to be so much honoured, and that of
the civilian is more honoured. During the forty years' peace,
the popular sentiment became such that " soldiering " was
spoken of contemptuously; and those who enlisted, habitually
the idle and the dissolute, were commonly regarded as having
completed their disgrace. Similarly in America before the
late civil war, such small military gatherings and exercises as
from time to time occurred, excited general ridicule. Mean
while we see that labours, bodily and mental, useful to self
and others, have come to be not only honourable but in a
considerable degree imperative. In America the adverse
comments on a man who does nothing, almost force him into
some active pursuit; and among ourselves the respect for
industrial life has become such that men of high rank put
their sons into business.
While, as we saw, the compulsory cooperation proper to
militancy, forbids, or greatly discourages, individual initiative,
the voluntary cooperation which distinguishes industrialism,
gives free scope to individual initiative, and develops it by
636 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
letting enterprise bring its normal advantages. Those who
are successfully original in idea and act, prospering and
multiplying in a greater degree than others, produce, in course
of time, a general type of nature ready to undertake new
things. The speculative tendencies of English and American
capitalists, and the extent to which large undertakings, both
at home and abroad, are carried out by them, sufficiently
indicate this trait of character. Though, along with consider
able qualifications of militancy by industrialism on the con
tinent, there has occurred there, too, an extension of private
enterprise; yet the fact that while many towns in France and
Germany have been supplied with gas and water by English
companies, there is in England but little of kindred achieve
ment by foreign companies, shows that among the more
industrially-modified English, individual initiative is more
decided.
There is evidence that the decline of international hostili
ties, associated as it is with the decline of hostilities between
families and between individuals, is followed by a weakening
of revengeful sentiments. This is implied by the fact that in
our own country the more serious of these private wars early
ceased, leaving only the less serious in the form of duels,
which also have at length ceased : their cessation coinciding
with the recent great development of industrial life — a fact
with which may be joined the fact that in the more militant
societies, France and Germany, they have not ceased. So
much among ourselves has the authority of the lex talionis
waned, that a man whose actions are known to be prompted
by the wish for vengeance on one who has injured him, is
reprobated rather than applauded.
With decrease of the aggressiveness shown in acts of
violence and consequent acts of retaliation, has gone decrease
of the aggressiveness shown in criminal acts at large. That
this change has been a concomitant of the change from a
more militant to a more industrial state, cannot be doubted
by one who studies the history of crime in England. Says
THE INDUSTRIAL TYPE OF SOCIETY. 637
Mr. Pike in his work on that subject, " the close connexion
between the military spirit and those actions which are now
legally defined to be crimes, has been pointed out, again and
again, in the course of this history." If we compare a past
age in which the effects of hostile activities had been less
qualified by the effects of peaceful activities than they are in
our own age, we see a marked contrast in respect of the
numbers and kinds of offences against person and property.
We have no longer any English buccaneers ; wreckers have
ceased to be heard of; and travellers do not now prepare
themselves to meet highwaymen. Moreover, that flagitious-
ness of the governing agencies themselves, which was shown
by the venality of ministers and members of Parliament, and
by the corrupt administration of justice, has disappeared.
With decreasing amount of crime has come increasing repro
bation of crime. Biographies of pirate captains, suffused
frith admiration of their courage, no longer find a place in
our literature ; and the sneaking kindness for " gentlemen of
the road," is, in our days, but rarelv displayed. Many as are
the transgressions which our journals report, they have greatly
diminished ; and though in trading transactions there is much
dishonesty (chiefly of the indirect sort) it needs but to read
Defoe's English Tradesman, to see how marked has been the
improvement since his time. Nor must we forget that the
change of character which has brought a decrease of unjust
actions, has brought an increase of beneficent actions ; as seen
in paying for slave- emancipation, in nursing the wounded
soldiers of our fighting neighbours, in philanthropic efforts of
countless kinds.
§ 575. As with the militant type then, so with the indus
trial type, three lines of evidence converge to show us its
essential nature. Let us set down briefly the several results,
that we may observe the correspondences among them.
On considering what must be the traits of a society
organized exclusively for carrying on internal activities, so as
638 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
most efficiently to subserve the lives of citizens, we find them
to be these. A corporate action subordinating individual
actions by uniting them in joint effort, is no longer requisite.
Contrariwise, such corporate action as remains has for its
end to guard individual actions against all interferences not
necessarily entailed by mutual limitation : the type of sociefy
in which this function is best discharged, being that which
must survive, since it is that of which the members will most
prosper. Excluding, as the requirements of the industrial
type do, a despotic controlling agency, they imply, as the
only congruous agency for achieving such corporate action as
is needed, one formed of representatives who serve to express
the aggregate will. The function of this controlling agency,
generally defined as that of administering justice, is more
specially defined as that of seeing that each citizen gains
neither more nor less of benefit than his activities normally
bring ; and there is thus excluded all public action involving
any artificial distribution of benefits. The regime of status
proper to militancy having disappeared, the regime of contract
which replaces it has to be universally enforced; and this
negatives interferences between efforts and results by arbitrary
apportionment. Otherwise regarded, the industrial type is
distinguished from the militant type as being not both posi
tively regulative and negatively regulative, but as being
negatively regulative only. With this restricted sphere for
corporate action comes an increased sphere for individual
action ; and from that voluntary cooperation which is the
fundamental principle of the type, arise multitudinous private
combinations, akin in their structures to the public com
bination of the society which includes them. Indirectly it
results that a society of the industrial type is distinguished
by plasticity ; and also that it tends to lose its economic
autonomy, and to coalesce with adjacent societies.
The question next considered was, whether these traits of
the industrial type as arrived at by deduction are inductively
verified; and we found that in actual societies they are visible
THE INDUSTRIAL TYPE OF SOCIETY. 639
more or less clearly in proportion as industrialism is more or
less developed. Glancing at those small groups of uncultured
people who, wholly unwarlike, display the industrial type in
its rudimentary form, we went on to compare the structures
of European nations at large in early days of chronic mili
tancy, with their structures in modern days characterized by
progressing industrialism ; and we saw the differences to be
of the kind implied. We next compared two of these
societies, France and England, which were once in kindred
states, but of which the one has had its industrial life much
more repressed by its militant life than the other ; and it
became manifest that the contrasts which, age after age, arose
between their institutions, were such as answer to the hypo
thesis. Lastly, limiting ourselves to England itself, and first
noting how recession from such traits of the industrial type
as had shown themselves, occurred during a long war-period,
we observed how, during the subsequent long period of peace
beginning in 1815, there were numerous and decided ap
proaches to that social structure which we concluded must
accompany developed industrialism.
We then inquired what type of individual nature accom
panies the industrial type of society ; with the view of seeing
whether, from the character of the unit as well as from the
character of the aggregate, confirmation is to be derived.
Certain uncultured peoples whose lives are passed in peaceful
occupations, proved to be distinguished by independence,
resistance to coercion, honesty, truthfulness, forgivingness,
kindness. On contrasting the characters of our ancestors
during more warlike periods with our own characters, we see
that, with an increasing ratio of industrialism to militancy,
have come a growing independence, a less-marked loyalty, a
smaller faith in governments, and a more qualified patriotism ;
and while, by enterprising action, by diminished faith in
authority, by resistance to irresponsible power, there has been
shown a strengthening assertion of individuality, there has
accompanied it a growing respect for the individualities of
640 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
others, as is implied by the diminution of aggressions upon
them and the multiplication of efforts for their welfare.
To prevent misapprehension it seems needful, before closing,
to explain that these traits are to be regarded less as the
immediate results of industrialism than as the remote results
of non-militancy. It is not so much that a social life passed
in peaceful occupations is positively moralizing, as that a
social life passed in war is positively demoralizing. Sacrifice
of others to self is in the one incidental only ; while in the
other it is necessary. Such aggressive egoism as accom
panies the industrial life is extrinsic ; whereas the aggressive
egoism of the militant life is intrinsic. Though generally
unsympathetic, the exchange of services under agreement is
now, to a considerable extent, and may be wholly, carried on
with a due regard to the claims of others — may be constantly
accompanied by a sense of benefit given as well as benefit
received ; but the slaying of antagonists, the burning of their
houses, the appropriation of their territory, cannot but be
accompanied by vivid consciousness of injury done them,
and a consequent brutalizing effect on the feelings — an effect
wrought, not on soldiers only, but on those who employ them
and contemplate their deeds with pleasure. The last form of
social life, therefore, inevitably deadens the sympathies and
generates a state of mind which prompts crimes of trespass ;
while the first form, allowing the sympathies free play if it
does not directly exercise them, favours the growth of altru
istic sentiments and the resulting virtues.
NOTE. — This reference to the natural genesis of a higher moral nature,
recalls a controversy some time since carried on. In a " Symposium " pub
lished in the Nineteenth Century for April and May, 1877, was discussed
" the influence upon morality of a decline in religious belief : " the question
eventually raised being whether morality can exist without religion. Not
much difficulty in answering this question will be felt by those who, from
the conduct of the rude tribes described in this chapter, turn to that of
Europeans during a great part of the Christian era ; with its innumerable and
immeasurable public and private atrocities, its bloody aggressive wars, its
ceaseless family-vendettas, its bandit barons and fighting bishops, its massa
cres, political and religious, its torturings and burnings, its all-pervading crinv
THE INDUSTRIAL TYPE OF SOCIETY. 641
from the assassinations of and by kings down to the lyings and petty thefts of
slaves and serfs. Nor do the contrasts between our own conduct at the
present time and the conduct of these so-called savages, leave us in doubt con
cerning the right answer. When, after reading police reports, criminal assize
proceedings, accounts of fraudulent bankruptcies, &c., which in our journals
accompany advertisements of sermons and reports of religious meetings,
•we learn that the " amiable " Bodo and Dhimals, who are so " honest and
truthful," " have no word for God, for soul, for heaven, for hell" (though
they have ancestor-worship and some derivative beliefs), we find ourselves
unable to recognize the alleged connexion. If, side by side with narratives of
bank-frauds, rail way -jobbings, turf-chicaneries, &e., among people who are
anxious that the House of Commons should preserve its theism untainted, wo
place descriptions of the " fascinating " Lepchas, who are so " wonderfully
honest," but who "profess no religion, though acknowledging the existence
of good and bad spirits " (to the last of whom only they pay any attention),
we do not see our way to accepting the dogma which our theologians think so
obviously true ; nor will acceptance of it be made easier when we add the
description of the conscientious Santal, who " never thinks of making money
by a stranger," and " feels pained if payment is pressed upon him " for food
offered ; but concerning whom we are told that " of a supreme and beneficent
God the Santal has no conception." Admission of the doctrine that right
conduct depends on theological conviction, becomes difficult on reading that
the Veddahs who are "almost devoid of any sentiment of religion " and have
no idea " of a Supreme Being," nevertheless " think it perfectly inconceivable
that any person should ever take that which does not belong to him, or
strike his fellow, or say anything that is untrue." After finding that among
the select of the select who profess our established creed, the standard of
truthfulness is such that the statement of a minister concerning cabinet
transactions is distinctly falsified by the statement of a seceding minister j
and after then recalling the marvellous veracity of these godless Bodo and
Dhimals, Lepchas, and other peaceful tribes having kindred beliefs, going to
euch extent that an imputation of falsehood is enough to make one of the
Hos destroy himself ; we fail to see that in the absence of a theistic belief
there can be no regard for truth. When, in a weekly journal specially repre
senting the university culture shared in by our priests, we find a lament over
the moral degradation shown by our treatment of the Boers — when wre arc
held degraded because we have not slaughtered them for successfully resist
ing our trespasses— when we see that the "sacred duty of blood revenge,"
which the cannibal savage insists upon, is insisted upon by those to who7n
the Christian religion was daily taught throughout their education ; and
when, from contemplating this fact, we pass to the fact that the unreligious
Lepchas " are singularly forgiving of injuries," the assumed relation between,
humanity and theism appears anything but congruous with the evidence. If,
with the ambitions of our church-going citizens, who (not always in very
honourable ways) strive to get fortunes that they may make great displays,
and gratify themselves by thinking that at death they will "cut up well," wo
compare the ruubitions of the Arafurap, among whom wealth is desired that
64:2 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
its possessor may pay the debts of poorer men and settle differences, we are
obliged to reject the assumption that " brotherly love " can exist only us a
consequence of divine injunctions, with promised rewards and threatened
punishments ; for of these Araf uras we read that —
" Of the immortality of the soul they hare not the least conception. To
all my enquiries on the subject they answered, ' No Arafura hns ever returned
to us after death, therefore we know nothing of a future state, and this is
the first time we have heard of it.' Their idea was, when you are dead
there is an end of you. Neither have they any notion of the creation of the
world. They only answered, ' None of us were aware of this, we have never
heard anything about it, and therefore do not know who has done it all.' "
The truth disclosed by the facts is that, so far as men's moral states are con
cerned, theory is almost nothing and practice is almost everything. No
matter how high their nominal creed, nations given to political burglarbs to
get "scientific frontiers," and the like, will have among their members many
vrho " annex " others' goods for their own convenience ; and with the orga
nized crime of aggressive war, 'will go criminality in the behaviour of one
citizen to another. Conversely, as these uncultivated tribes prove, no matter
how devoid they are of religious beliefs, those who, generation after genera
tion remaining unmolested, inflict no injuries upon others, have their altru
istic sentiments fostered by the sympathetic intercourse of a peaceful daily
life, and display the resulting virtues. We need teaching that it is impossible
to join injustice and brutality abroad with justice and humanity at home.
What a pity these Heathens cannot be induced to send missionaries among
the Olvribtians I
CHAPTER XIX.
POLITICAL EETEOSPECT AND PROSPECT.
§ 576. In the foregoing chapters little has been said
concerning the doctrine .of Evolution at large, as re-illus
trated by political evolution ; though doubtless the observant
reader has occasionally noted how the transformations de
scribed conform to the general law of transformation. Here,
in summing up, it will be convenient briefly to indicate their
conformity. Already in Part II, when treating of Social
Growth, Social Structures, and Social Functions, the outlines
of this correspondence were exhibited ; but the materials for
exemplifying it in a more special way, which have been brought
together in this Part, may fitly be utilized to emphasize afresh
a truth not yet commonly admitted.
That under its primary aspect political development is a
process of integration, is clear. By it individuals originally
separate are united into a whole ; and the union of them into
a whole is variously shown. In the earliest stages the groups
of men are small, they are loose, they are not unified by
subordination to a centre. But with political progress comes
the compounding, re-compounding, and re-re-compounding of
groups until great nations are produced. Moreover, with that
settled life and agricultural development accompanying poli
tical progress, there is not only a formation of societies
covering wider areas, but an increasing density of their popu
lations. Further, the loose aggregation of savages passes into
100
644 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
the coherent connexion of citizens; at one stage coercively
bound to one another and to their localities by family-ties and
class-ties, and at a later stage voluntarily bound together by
their mutually-dependent occupations. Once more, there is
that merging of individual wills in a governmental will, which
reduces a society, as it reduces an army, to a consolidated
body.
An increase of heterogeneity at the same time goes on in
many ways. Everywhere the horde, when its members co
operate for defence or offence, begins to differentiate into a
predominant man, a superior few, and an inferior many.
With that massing of groups which war effects, there grow
out of these, head chief, subordinate chiefs, and warriors;
and at higher stages of integration, kings, nobles, and people :
each of the two great social strata presently becoming dif
ferentiated within itself. When small societies have been
united, the respective triune governing agencies of them grow
unlike : the local political assemblies falling into subordina
tion to a central political assembly. Though, for a time, the
central one continues to be constituted after the same manner
as the local ones, it gradually diverges in character by loss
of its popular element. While these local and central bodies
are becoming contrasted in their powers and structures, they
are severally becoming differentiated in another way. Origi
nally each is at once military, political, and judicial; but
by and by the assembly for judicial business, no longer armed,
ceases to be like the politico-military assembly: and the
politico-military assembly eventually gives origin to a con
sultative body, the members of which, when meeting fcr
political deliberation, come unarmed. Within each of these
divisions, again, kindred changes subsequently occur. While
themselves assuming more specialized forms, local judicial
agencies fall under the control of a central judicial agency ;
and the central judicial agency, which has separated from the
original consultative body, subdivides into parts or courts
which take unlike kinds of business. The central political
POLITICAL RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT. 645
body, too, where its powers do not disappear by absorption in
those of the supreme head, tends to complicate; as in our
own case by the differentiation of a privy council from the
original consultative body, and again by the differentiation of
a cabinet from the privy council : accompanied, in the other
direction, by division of the consultative body into elective and
non-elective parts. While these metamorphoses are going on,
the separation of the three organizations, legislative, judicial,
and executive, progresses. Moreover, with progress in these
major political changes goes that progress in minor political
changes which, out of family-go veruments and clan-govern
ments, evolves such governments as those of the tything, the
gild, and the municipality. Thus in all directions from
primitive simplicity there is produced ultimate complexity,
through modifications upon modifications.
With this advance from small incoherent social aggre
gates to great coherent ones, which, while becoming integrated
pass from uniformity to multiformity, there goes an advance
from indefmiteness of political organization to definiteness
of political organization. Save inherited ideas and usages,
nothing is fixed in the primitive horde. But the dif
ferentiations above described, severally beginning vaguely,
grow in their turns gradually more marked. Class-divisions,
absent at first and afterwards undecided, eventually acquire
great distinctness : slaves, serfs, freemen, nobles, king, become
separated, often by impassable barriers, and their positions
shown by mutilations, badges, dresses, &c. Powers and obli
gations which were once diffused are parted off and rigorously
maintained. The various parts of the political machinery como
to be severally more and more restricted in their ranges of
duties ; and usage, age by age accumulating precedents, brings
every kind of official action within prescribed bounds. This
increase of definiteness is everywhere well shown by the
development of laws. Beginning as inherited sacred injunc
tions briefly expressed, these have to be applied after some
prescribed method, and their meanings in relation to par-
646 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
ticular cases made clear. Rules of procedure become step
by step detailed and formal, while interpretations change
the general command into specialized commands to meet
incidental circumstances; and gradually there grows up a
legal system everywhere precise and fixed. How pronounced
is this tendency is interestingly shown in our system of
Equity, which, arising to qualify the unduly defined and
rigid applications of Law, itself slowly multiplied its tech
nicalities until it grew equally defined and rigid.
To meet an obvious criticism it must be added that these
changes from societies which are small, loose, uniform, and
vague in structure, to societies which are large, compact,
multiform, and distinct in structure, present varieties of
characters under varieties of conditions, and alter as the
conditions alter. Different parts of a society display the
transformation, according as the society's activities are of
one or other kind. Chronic war generates a compulsory
cohesion, and produces an ever-greater heterogeneity and defi-
niteness in that controlling organization by which unity of
action is secured ; while that part of the organization which
carries on production and distribution, exhibits these traits of
evolution in a relatively small degree. Conversely, when
joint action of the society against other societies decreases,
the traits of the structure developed for carrying it on begin
to fade ; while the traits of the structure for carrying on pro
duction and distribution become more decided : the increasing
cohesion, heterogeneity, and defmiteness, begin now to be
shown throughout the industrial organization. Hence the
phenomena become complicated by a simultaneous evolution
of one part of the social organization and dissolution of
another part — a mingling of changes well illustrated in our
own society.
§ 577. With this general conception before us, which,
without more detailed recapitulation of the conclusions
reached, will sufficiently recall them, we may turn from
POLITICAL RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT. 647
retrospect to prospect ; and ask through what phases political
evolution is likely hereafter to pass.
Such speculations concerning higher political types as we
may allow ourselves, must be taken with the understanding
that such types are not likely to become universal. As in the
past so in the future, local circumstances must be influential
in determining governmental arrangements; since these
depend in large measure on the modes of life which ';he
climate, soil, flora, and fauna, necessitate. In regions like
those of Central Asia, incapable of supporting considerable
populations, there are likely to survive wandering hordes
under simple forms of control. Large areas such as parts of
Africa present, which prove fatal to the higher races of men,
and the steaming atmospheres of which cause enervation,
may continue to be inhabited by lower races of men, subject
to political arrangements adapted to them. And in con
ditions such as those furnished by small Pacific Islands, mere
deficiency of numbers must negative the forms of government
which become alike needful and possible in large nations.
Recognizing the fact that with social organisms as with indi
vidual organisms, the evolution of superior types does not
entail the extinction of all inferior ones, but leaves many of
these to survive in habitats not available by the superior, we
may here restrict ourselves to the inquiry — What are likely to
be the forms of political organization and action in societies
that are favourably circumstanced for carrying social evolu
tion to its highest stage ?
Of course deductions respecting the future must be drawn
from inductions furnished by the past. We must assume
that hereafter social evolution will conform to the same
principles as heretofore. Causes which have everywhere
produced certain effects must, if they continue at work, be
expected to produce further effects of like kinds. If we see
that political transformations which have arisen under cer
tain conditions, admit of being carried further in the same
directions, we must conclude that they will be carried further
64:8 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
if the conditions are maintained ; and that they will go on
until they reach limits beyond which there is no scope for
them.
Not indeed that any trustworthy forecast can be made
concerning proximate changes. All that has gone before
unites to prove that political institutions, fundamentally
determined in their forms by the predominance of one or
other of the antagonist modes of social action, the militant
and the industrial, will be moulded in this way or in that way
according as there is frequent war or habitual peace. Hence
we must infer that throughout approaching periods, every
thing will depend on the courses which societies happen to
take in their behaviour to one another — courses which cannot
be predicted. On the one hand, in the present state of armed
preparation throughout Europe, an untoward accident may
bring about wars which, lasting perhaps for a generation, will
re-develop the coercive forms of political control. On the
other hand, a long peace is likely to be accompanied by so
vast an increase of manufacturing and commercial activity,
with accompanying growth of the appropriate political struc
tures within each nation, and strengthening of those ties
between nations which mutual dependence generates, that
hostilities will be more and more resisted and the organization
adapted for the carrying them on will decay.
Leaving, however, the question — What are likely to be the
proximate political changes in the most advanced nations ?
and inferring from the changes which civilization has thus far
wrought out, that at some time, more or less distant, the
industrial type will become permanently established, let ua
now ask — What is to be the ultimate political regime ?
§ 578. Having so recently contemplated at length the
political traits of the industrial type as inferable a priori, and
as partially exemplified a posteriori in societies most favour
ably circumstanced for evolving them, there remains only to
present these under a united and more concrete form, with
POLITICAL BETBOSPECT AND PROSPECT. 649
some dependent ones which have not been indicated. We
will glance first at the implied political structures, and next
at the implied political functions.
What forms of governmental organization must be the out/
come of voluntary cooperation carried to its limit ? We have
already seen that in the absence of those appliances for
coercion which accompany the militant type, whatever *egis-
lative and administrative structures exist, must be, in general
and in detail, of directly or indirectly representative origin.
The presence in them of functionaries not deriving their
powers from the aggregate will, and not changeable by the
aggregate will, would imply paxtial continuance of that regime
of status which the regime of contract has, by the hypothesis,
entirely replaced. But assuming the exclusion of all irre
sponsible agents, what particular structures will best serve
to manifest and execute the aggregate will ? This is a
question to which only approximate answers can be given.
There are various possible organizations through which the
general consensus of feeling and opinion may display itself
and issue in action ; and it is very much a question of con
venience, rather than of principle, which of these shall be
adopted. Let us consider some of their varieties.
The representatives constituting the central legislature
may form one body or they may form two. If there is but
one, it may consist of men directly elected by all qualified
citizens; or its members may be elected by local bodies which
have themselves arisen by direct election ; or it may include
members some of whom are elected in the one way and some
in the other. If there are two chambers, the lower one may
arise in the first of the three ways named ; while the second
arises in one of several ways. It may consist of members
chosen by local representative bodies ; or it may be chosen
by the lower chamber out of its own number. Its members
may either have no test of eligibility, or they may be required
to have special qualifications : experience in administration,
for example. Then besides these various forms of the
650 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
legislature, there are the various modes in which it may be
partially or wholly replaced. Entire dissolution and re
election of one body or of both bodies may occur at intervals,
either the same for the two or different for the two, and either
simultaneously or otherwise ; or the higher body, though
representative, may be permanent, while the lower is change *
able; or the changing of one or both, at given intervals,
may be partial instead of complete — a third or a fourth
may vacate their seats annually or biennially, and may or
may not be eligible for re-election. So, too, thero are
various modes by which the executive may originate con
sistently with the representative principle. It may be simple
or it may be compound ; and if compound, the members of it
may be changeable separately or altogether. The political
head may be elected directly by the whole community, or by
its local governing bodies, or by one or by both of its central
representative bodies ; and may be so elected for a term or
for life. His assistants or ministers may be chosen by him
self ; or he may choose one who chooses the rest ; or they
may be chosen separately or bodily by one or other legis
lature, or by the two united. And the members of the
ministry may compose a group apart from both chambers, or
may be members of one or the other.
Concerning these, and many other possible arrangements
which may be conceived as arising by modification and com
plication of them (all apparently congruous with the require
ment that the making and administration of laws shall con
form to public opinion) the choice is to be guided mainly by
regard for simplicity and facility of working. But it seems
likely that hereafter, as heretofore, the details of constitutional
forms in each society, will not be determined on d priori
grounds, or will be but partially so determined. We may
conclude that they will be determined in large measure by
the antecedents of the society ; and that between societies of
the industrial type, there will be differences of political
organization consequent on genealogical differences. Recog-
POLITICAL RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT. 651
nizing the analogies furnished by individual organizations,
which everywhere show us that structures evolved during
the earlier stages of a type for functions then requisite,
usually do not disappear at later stages, but become re
moulded in adaptation to functions more or less different;
we may suspect that the political institutions appropriate to
the industria* type, will, in each society, continue to bear
traces of the earlier political institutions evolved for other
purposes ; as we see that even now the new societies growing
up in colonies, tend thus to preserve marks of earlier stages
passed through by ancestral societies. Hence we may infer
that societies which, in the future, have alike become com
pletely industrial, will not present identical political forms;
but that to the various possible forms appropriate to the type,
they will present approximations determined partly by their
own structures in the past and partly by the structures of
the societies from which they have been derived. Eecognizing
this probability, let us now ask by what changes our owii
political constitution may be brought into congruity with
the requirements.
Though there are some who contend that a single body of
representatives is sufficient for the legislative needs of a
free nation, yet the reasons above given warrant the suspicion
that the habitual duality of legislatures, of which the rudi
ments are traceable in the earliest political differentiation, is
not likely to be entirely lost in the future. That spontaneous
division of the primitive group into the distinguished few and
the undistinguished many, both of which take part in deter
mining the actions of the group — that division which, with
reviving power of the undistinguished many, reappears when
there is formed a body representing it, which cooperates with
the body formed of the distinguished few in deciding on
national affairs, appears likely to continue. Assuming that
as a matter of course two legislative bodies, if they exist
hereafter, must both arise by representation, direct or indirect,
it seems probable that an upper and a lower chamber may
652 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
continue to display a contrast in some degree analogous to
that which they have displayed thus far. For however great
the degree of evolution reached by an industrial society, it
cannot abolish the distinction between the superior and the
inferior— the regulators and the regulated. Whatever ar
rangements for carrying on industry may in times to come be
established, must leave outstanding the difference between
those whose characters and abilities raise them to the higher
positions, and those who remain in the lower. Even should
all kinds of production and distribution be eventually carried
on by bodies of cooperators, as a few are now to some extent,
such bodies must still have their appointed heads and com
mittees of managers. Either from an electorate constituted
not, of course, of a permanently-privileged class, but of a
class including all heads of industrial organizations, or from
an electorate otherwise composed of all persons occupied in
administration, a senate may perhaps eventually be formed
consisting of the representatives of directing persons as dis
tinguished from the representatives of persons directed. Of
course in the general government, as in the government of
each industrial body, the representatives of the class regu
lated must be ultimately supreme ; but there is reason for
thinking that the representatives of the regulating class
might with advantage exercise a restraining power. Evidently
the aspect of any law differs according as it is looked at from
above or from below — by those accustomed to rule or by
those accustomed to be ruled. The two aspects require to bo
coordinated. Without assuming that differences between the
interests of these bodies will, to the last, make needful dif
ferent representations of them, it may reasonably be con
cluded that the higher, experienced in administration, may
with advantage bring its judgments to bear in qualifying the
judgments of the lower, less conversant with affairs ; and that
social needs are likely to be most effectually met by laws
issuing from their joint deliberations. Far from suggesting
an ultimate unification of the two legislative bodies, the facts
POLITICAL RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT. 653
of evolution, everywhere showing advance in specialization,
suggest rather that one or both of such two bodies, now
characterizing developed political organizations, will further
differentiate. Indeed we have at the present moment indi
cations that such a- change is likely to take place in cur
own House of Commons. To the objection that the duality
of a legislative body impedes the making of laws, the reply
is that a considerable amount of hindrance to change is
desirable. Even as it is now among ourselves, immense mis
chiefs are done by ill-considered legislation ; and any change
which should further facilitate legislation would increase
such mischiefs.
Concerning the ultimate executive agency, it appears to be
an unavoidable inference that it must become, in some way
or other, elective ; since hereditary political headship is a
trait of the developed militant type, and forms a part of that
regime of status which is excluded by the hypothesis.
Guided by such evidence as existing advanced societies
afford us, we may infer that the highest State-office, in what
ever way filled, will continue to decline in importance ; and
that the functions to be discharged by its occupant will
become more and more automatic. There requires an instru
mentality having certain traits which we see in our own
executive, joined with certain traits which we see in the
executive of the United States. On the one hand, it is need
ful that the men who have to carry out the will of the
majority as expressed through the legislature, should be
removable at pleasure; so that there may be maintained the
needful subordination of their policy to public opinion. On
the other hand, it is needful that displacement of them shall
leave intact all that part of the executive organization re
quired for current administrative purposes. In our own case
these requirements, fulfilled to a considerable extent, fall short
of complete fulfilment in the respect that the political head
is not elective, and still exercises, especially over the foreign
policy of the nation, a considerable amount of power. It
654 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
the United States, while these requirements are fulfilled in
the respect that the political head is elective, and cannot
compromize the nation in its actions towards other nations,
they are not fulfilled in the respect that far from being an
automatic centre, having actions restrained by a ministry
responsive to public opinion, he exercises, during his term of
office, much independent control. Possibly in the future, the
benefits of these two systems may be united and their evils
avoided. The strong party antagonisms which accompany
our state of transition having died away, and the place of
supreme State-officer having become one of honour rather
than one of power, it may happen that appointment to this
place, made during the closing" years of a great career to
mark the nation's approbation, will be made without any
social perturbation, because without any effect on policy;
and that, meanwhile, such changes in the executive agency
as are needful to harmonize its actions with public opinion,
will be, as at present among ourselves, changes of minis
tries.
Eightly to conceive the natures and workings of the central
political institutions appropriate to the industrial type, we
must assume that along with the establishment of them there
has gone that change just named in passing — the decline of
party antagonisms. Looked at broadly, political parties are
seen to arise directly or indirectly out of the conflict between
militancy and industrialism. Either they stand respectively for
the coercive government of the one and the free government
of the other, or for particular institutions and laws belonging
to the one or the other, or for religious opinions and organiza
tions congruous with the one or the other, or for principles
and practices that have been bequeathed by the one or the
other, and survived under alien conditions. Habitually if we
trace party feeling to its sources, we find on the one side
maintenance of, and on the other opposition to, some form of
inequity. Wrong is habitually alleged by this side against
that ; and there must be injustice either in the thing done or
POLITICAL RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT. 655
in the allegation concerning it. Hence as fast as the regime
of voluntary cooperation with its appropriate ideas, senti
ments, and usages, pervades the whole society — as fast as
there disappear all those arrangements which in any way
trench upon the equal freedom of these or those citizens,
party warfare must practically die away. Such differences
of opinion only can remain as concern matters of detail and
minor questions of administration. Evidently there is
approach to such a state in proportion as the graver injus
tices descending from the militant type disappear. Evidently,
too, one concomitant is that increasing subdivision of parties
commonly lamented, which promises to bring about the
result that no course can be taken at the dictation of any one
moiety in power ; but every course taken, having the assent of
the average of parties, will be thereby proved in harmony
with the aggregate will of the community. And clearly, with
this breaking up of parties consequent on growing indivi
duality of nature, all such party-antagonisms as we now
know must cease.
Concerning local government we may conclude that as
centralization is an essential trait of the militant type, de
centralization is an essential trait of the industrial type.
With that independence which the regime of voluntary
cooperation generates, there arises resistance not only to
dictation by one man, and to dictation by a class, but even to
dictation "by a majority, when it restrains individual action
in ways not necessary for maintaining harmonious social
relations. One result must be that the inhabitants of each
locality will object to be controlled by the inhabitants of
other localities, in matters of purely local concern. In respect
of such laws as equally apply to all individuals, and such
laws as affect the inhabitants of each locality in their
intercourse with those of other localities, the will of the
majority of the community will be recognized as authorita
tive ; but in respect of arrangements not affecting the com
munity at large, but affecting only the members forming one
656 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
part, we may infer that there will arise such tendency to
resist dictation by members of other parts, as will involve
the carrying of local rule to the greatest practicable limit.
Municipal and kindred governments may be expected to
exercise legislative and administrative powers, subject to no
greater control by the central government than is needful for
the concord of the whole community.
Neither these nor any other speculations concerning ulti
mate political forms can, however, be regarded as anything
more than tentative. They are ventured here simply as
foreshadowing the general nature of the changes to be anti
cipated ; and in so far as they are specific, can be at the best
but partially right. We may be sure that the future will
bring unforeseen political arrangements along 'with many
other unforeseen things. As already implied, there will pro
bably be considerable variety in the special forms of the
political institutions of industrial societies : all of them
bearing traces of past institutions which have been brought
into congruity with the representative principle. And here
I may add that little stress need be laid on one or other
speciality of form ; since, given citizens having the pre
supposed appropriate natures, and but small differences in
the ultimate effects will result from differences in the
machinery used.
§ 579. Somewhat more definitely, and with somewhat
greater positiveness, may we, I think, infer the political
functions carried on by those political structures proper to
the developed industrial type. Already these have been
generally indicated ; but here they must be indicated some
what more specifically.
We have seen that when corporate action is no longer
needed for preserving the society as a whole from destruction
or injury by other societies, the end which remains for it is
that of preserving the component members of the society
from destruction or injury by one another : injury, as here
POLITICAL RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT. 657
interpreted, including not only immediate, but also remote,
breaches of equity. Citizens whose natures have through
many generations of voluntary cooperation and accompanying
regard for one another's claims, been moulded into the appro
priate form, will entirely agree to maintain such political
institutions as may continue needful for insuring to each that
the activities he carries on within limits imposed by the
activities of others, shall bring to him all the directly-resulting
benefits, or such benefits as indirectly result under voluntary
agreements ; and each will be ready to yield up such small
portion of the proceeds of his labour, as may be required to
maintain the agency for adjudicating in complex cases where
the equitable course is not manifest, and for such legislative
and administrative purposes as may prove needful for
effecting an equitable division of all natural advantages.
Eesistance to extension of government beyond the sphere
thus indicated, must eventually have a two-fold origin —
egoistic and altruistic.
In the first place, it cannot be supposed that citizens
having the characters indicated, will, in their corporate
capacity, agree to impose on themselves individually, other
restraints than those necessitated by regard for one another's
spheres of action. Each has had fostered in him by the dis
cipline of daily life carried on under contract, a sentiment
prompting assertion of his claim to free action within the
implied limits ; and there cannot therefore arise in an aggre
gate of such, any sentiment which would tolerate further
limits. And that any part should impose such further limits
on the rest, is also contrary to the hypothesis ; since it pre-
:upposes that political inequality, or status, which is excluded
by the industrial type. Moreover, it is manifest that the
taking from citizens of funds for public purposes other than
those above specified, is negatived. For while there will
ever be a unanimous desire to maintain for each and all the
conditions needful for severally carrying on their private
activities and enjoying the products, the probabilities are
658 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
immense against agreement for any other public end. And
in the absence of such agreement, there must arise resistance
by the dissentients to the costs and administrative restraints
required for achieving such other end. There must be dis
satisfaction and opposition on the part of the minority from
whom certain returns of their labours are taken, not for
fulfilling their own desires, but for fulfilling the desires of
others. There must be an inequality of treatment which
does not consist with the regime of voluntary cooperation
fully carried out.
At the same time that the employment of political agencies
for other ends than that of maintaining equitable relations
among citizens, will meet with egoistic resistance from a
minority who do not desire such other ends, it will also meet
with altruistic resistance from the rest. In other words,
the altruism of the rest will prevent them from achieving
such further ends for their own satisfaction, at the cost of
dissatisfaction to those who do not agree with them. To one
who is ruled by a predominant sentiment of justice, the
thought of profiting in any way, direct or indirect, at the
expense of another, is repugnant; and in a community of
such, none will desire to achieve by public agency at the cost
of all, benefits which a part do not participate in, or do not
wish for. Given in all citizens a quick sense of equity, and
it must happen, for example, that while those who have no
children will protest against the taking away of their pro
perty to educate the children of others, the others will no
less protest against having the education of their children
partially paid for by forced exactions from the childless,
from the unmarried, and from those whose means are iu
many cases less than their own. So that the eventual limi
tation of State-action to the fundamental one described, is
insured by a simultaneous increase of opposition to other
actions and a decrease of desire for them.
§ 580. The restricted sphere for political institutions thus
POLITICAL RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT. 659
inferred as characterizing the developed industrial type, may
also be otherwise inferred.
For this limitation of State-functions is one outcome of
that process of specialization of functions which accompanies
organic and super-organic evolution at large. Be it in an
animal or be it in a society, the progress of organization is
constantly shown by the multiplication of particular sxruc-
tures adapted to particular ends. Everywhere we see the
law to be that a part which originally served several pur
poses and achieved none of them well, becomes divided into
parts each of which performs one of the purposes, and,
acquiring specially-adapted structures, performs it better.
Throughout the foregoing chapters we have seen this truth
variously illustrated by the evolution of the governmental
organization itself. It remains here to point out that it is
further illustrated in a larger way, by the division which has
arisen, and will grow ever more decided, between the func
tions of the governmental organization as a whole, and the
functions of the other organizations which the society in
cludes.
Already we have seen that in the militant type, political
control extends over all parts of the lives of the citizens.
Already we have seen that as industrial development brings
the associated political changes, the range of this control
decreases : ways of living are no longer dictated ; dress ceases
to be prescribed ; the rules of class-subordination lose their
peremptoriness ; religious beliefs and observances are not
insisted upon ; modes of cultivating the land and carrying on
manufactures are no longer fixed by law ; and the exchange
of commodities, both within the community and with other
communities, becomes gradually unshackled. That is to
Bay, as industrialism has progressed, the State has re
treated from the greater part of those regulative actions it
once undertook. This change has gone along with an in
creasing opposition of citizens to these various kinds of con
trol, and a decreasing tendency on the part of the State to
101
660 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
exercise them. Unless we assume that the end has now been
reached, the implication is that with future progress of in
dustrialism, these correlative changes will continue. Citizens
will carry still further their resistance to State-dictation;
while the tendency to State-dictation will diminish. Though
recently, along with re-invigoration of militancy, there have
gone extensions of governmental interference, yet this is in-
terpretable as a temporary wave of reaction. We may expect
that with the ending of the present retrograde movement and
resumption of unchecked industrial development, that in
creasing restriction of State-functions which has unquestion
ably gone on during the later stages of civilization, will be
resumed ; and, for anything that appears to the contrary,
will continue until there is reached the limit above indi
cated.
Along with this progressing limitation of political functions,
has gone increasing adaptation of political agencies to the
protecting function, and better discharge of it. During
unqualified militancy, while the preservation of the society as
a whole against other societies was the dominant need, the
preservation of the individuals forming the society from
destruction or injury by one another, was little cared for ; and
in so far as it was cared for, was cared for mainly out of re
gard for the strength of the whole society, and its efficiency
for war. But those same changes which have cut off so
many political functions at that time exercised, have greatly
developed this essential and permanent political function.
There has been a growing efficiency of the organization for
guarding life and property ; due to an increasing demand on
the part of citizens that their safety shall be insured, and an
increasing readiness on the part of the State to respond.
Evidently our own time, with its extended arrangements
for administering justice, and its growing wish for codifi
cation of the law, exhibits a progress in this direction ; which
will end only when the State undertakes to administer
civil justice to the citizen free of cost, as it now undertakes,
POLITICAL RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT. 661
free of cost, to protect his person and punish criminal aggres
sion on him.
And the accompanying conclusion is that there will be
simultaneously carried further that trait which already
characterizes the most industrially-organized societies — the
performance of increasingly-numerous and increasingly-im
portant functions by other organizations than those which
form departments of the government. Already in our own
case private enterprise, working through incorporated bodies
of citizens, achieves ends undreamed of as so achievable in
primitive societies ; and in the future, other ends undreamed
of now as so achievable, will be achieved.
§ 581. A corollary having important practical bearings
may be drawn. The several changes making up the trans
formation above indicated, are normally connected in their
amounts ; and mischief must occur if the due proportions
among them are not maintained. There is a certain right
relation to one another, and a right relation to the natures of
citizens, \vhich may not be disregarded with impunity.
The days when " paper constitutions " were believed in
have gone by — if not with all, still with instructed people.
The general truth that the characters of the units determine
the character of the aggregate, though not admitted overtly
and fully, is yet admitted to some extent — to the extent that
most politically-educated persons do not expect forthwith
completely to change the state of a society by this or that
kind of legislation. But when fully admitted, this truth
carries with it the conclusion that political institutions can
not be effectually modified faster than the characters of
citizens are modified; and that if greater modifications are by
any accident produced, the excess of change is sure to be
undone by some counter-change. When, as in France, people
undisciplined in freedom are suddenly made politically free,
they show by some plebiscite that they willingly deliver over
their power to an autocrat, or they work their parliamentary
662 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
system in such way as to make a popular statesman into a
dictator. When, as in the United States, republican insti
tutions, instead of being slowly evolved, are all at once
created, there grows up within them an agency of wire
pulling politicians, exercising a real rule which overrides the
nominal rule of the people at large. When, as at home, an
extended franchise, very soon re-extended, vastly augments
the mass of those who, having before been controlled are
made controllers, they presently fall under the rule of an
organized body that chooses their candidates and arranges
for them a political programme, which they must either
accept or be powerless. So that in the absence of a duly-
adapted character, liberty given in one direction is lost in
another.
Allied to the normal relation between character and in
stitutions, are the normal relations among institutions them
selves ; and the evils which arise from disregard of the second
relations are allied to those which arise from disregard of the
first. Substantially there is produced the same general
effect. The slavery mitigated in one direction is intensified in
another. Coercion over the individual, relaxed here is tightened
there. For, as we have seen, that change which accompanies
development of the industrial type, and is involved by the
progress towards those purely equitable relations which the
regime of voluntary cooperation brings, implies that the
political structures simultaneously become popular in their
origin and restricted in their functions. But if they become
more popular in their origin without becoming more restricted
in their functions, the effect is to foster arrangements which
benefit the inferior at the expense of the superior ; and by so
doing work towards degradation. Swayed as individuals aie
on the average by an egoism which dominates over their
altruism, it must happen that even when they become so far
equitable in their sentiments that they will not commit direct
injustices, they will remain liable to commit injustices of
indirect kinds. And since the majority must eve,r be formed
POLITICAL RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT. 663
of the inferior, legislation, if unrestricted in its range, will
inevitably be moulded by them in such way as more or
less remotely to work out to their own advantage, and to the
disadvantage of the superior. The politics of trades'-unions
exemplify the tendency. Their usages have become such
that the more energetic and skilful workmen are not allowed
to profit to the full extent of their capacities ; because, if
they did so, they would discredit and disadvantage those of
lower capacities, who, forming the majority, establish and
enforce the usages. In multitudinous ways a like tendency
must act through a political organization, if, while all citizens
have equal powers, the organization can be used for other
purposes than administering justice. State-machineries
worked by taxes falling in more than due proportion on those
whose greater powers have brought them greater means, will
give to citizens of smaller powers more benefits than they
have earned. And this burdening of the better for the benefit
of the worse, must check the evolution of a higher and more
adapted nature : the ultimate result being that a community
by which this policy is pursued, will, other things equal, fail
in competition with a community which pursues the purely
equitable policy, and will eventually disappear in the race of
civilization.
In brief, the diffusion of political power unaccompanied by
the limitation of political functions, issues in communism.
For the direct defrauding of the many by the few, it sub
stitutes the indirect defrauding of the few by the many : evil
proportionate to the inequity, being the result in. the one case
as in the other.
§ 582. But the conclusion of profoundest moment to which
all lines of argument converge, is that the possibility of a high
social state, political as well as general, fundamentally de
pends on the cessation of war. After all that has been said
it is needless to emphasize afresh the truth that persistent
militancy, maintaining adapted institutions, must inevitably
664 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
prevent, or else neutralize, changes in the direction of more
equitable institutions and laws ; while permanent peace will of
necessity be followed by social ameliorations of every kind.
From war has been gained all that it had to give. Tho
peopling of the Earth by the more powerful and intelligent
races, is a benefit in great measure achieved ; and what
remains to be done, calls for no other agency than the
quiet pressure of a spreading industrial civilization on a
barbarism which slowly dwindles. That integration of simple
groups into compound ones, and of these into doubly com
pound ones, which war has effected, until at length great
nations have been produced, is a process already carried as
far as seems either practicable or desirable. Empires formed
of alien peoples habitually fall to pieces when the coercive
power which holds them together fails ; and even could they
be held together, would not form harmoniously-working
wholes : peaceful federation is the only further consolidation
to be looked for. Such large advantage as war has yielded
by developing that political organization which, beginning
with the leadership of the best warrior has ended in complex
governments and systems of administration, has been fully
obtained ; and there only remains for the future to preserve
and re-mould its useful parts while getting rid of those no
longer required. So, too, that organization of labour initiated
by war — an organization which, setting out with the relation
of owner and slave and developing into that of master and
servant, has, by elaboration, given us industrial structures
having numerous grades of officials, from head-directors down
to foremen — has been developed quite as far as is requisite
for combined action ; and has to be hereafter modified, not
in the direction of greater military subordination, but rather in
the opposition direction. Again, the power of continuous
application, lacking in the savage and to be gained only under
that coercive discipline which the militant type of society
establishes, has been already in large measure acquired by
the civilized man; and such further degree of it as is needed,
POLITICAL RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT. 665
will be produced under the stress of industrial competition in
free communities. Nor is it otherwise with great public
works and developed industrial arts. Though, in the canal
cut by the Persians across the isthmus of Athos, and again
in a canal of two miles long made by the Fijians, we see
both that war is the first prompter to such undertakings and
that the despotic rule established by it is the needful agency
for carrying them out ; yet we also see that industrial evolu
tion has now reached a stage at which commercial advantage
supplies a sufficient stimulus, and private trading corporations
a sufficient power, to execute works far larger and more
numerous. And though from early days when flint arrow
heads were chipped and clubs carved, down to present days
when armour-plates a foot thick are rolled, the needs of
defence and offence have urged on invention and mechanical
skill ; yet in our own generation steam-hammers, hydraulic
rams, and multitudinous new appliances from locomotives to
telephones, prove that industrial needs alone have come to
furnish abundant pressure whereby, hereafter, the industrial
arts will be further advanced. Thus, that social evolution
which had to be achieved through the conflicts of societies
with one another, has already been achieved ; and no further
benefits are to be looked for.
Only further evils are to be looked for from the conti
nuance of militancy in civilized nations. The general lesson
taught by all the foregoing chapters is that, indispensable as
has been this process by which nations have been conso
lidated, organized, and disciplined, and requisite as has been
the implied coercion to develop certain traits of individual
human nature, yet that, beyond the unimaginable amount of
Buffering directly involved by the process, there has been an
unimaginable amount of suffering indirectly involved ; alike
by the forms of political institutions necessitated, and by the
accompanying type of individual nature fostered. And they
show by implication that for the diminution of this suffering,
not only of the direct kind but of the indirect kind, the one
666 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
thing needful is the checking of international antagonisms
and the diminution of those armaments which are at once
cause and consequence of them. With the repression of
militant activities and decay of militant organizations, \* ill
come amelioration of political institutions as of all other insti
tutions. Without them, no such ameliorations are permanently
possible. Liberty overtly gained in name and form will be
unobtrusively taken away in fact.
It is not to be expected, however, that any very marked
effects are to be produced by the clearest demonstration
of this truth — even by a demonstration beyond all question.
A general congruity has to be maintained between the social
state at any time necessitated by circumstances, and the
accepted theories of conduct, political and individual. Such
acceptance as there may be of doctrines at variance with the
temporary needs, can never be more than nominal in degree,
or limited in range, or both. The acceptance which guides
conduct will always be of such theories, no matter how
logically indefensible, as are consistent with the average
modes of action, public and private. All that can be done
by diffusing a doctrine much in advance of the time, is to
facilitate the action of forces tending to cause advance. The
forces themselves can be but in small degrees increased;
but something may be done by preventing mis-direction of
them. Of the sentiment at any time enlisted on behalf of a
higher social state, there is always some (and at the present
time a great deal) which, having the broad vague form of
sympathy with the masses, spends itself in efforts for their
welfare by multiplication of political agencies of one or other
kind. Led by the prospect of immediate beneficial results,
those swayed by this sympathy are unconscious that they
are helping further to elaborate a social organization at
variance with that required for a higher form of social life,
and are, by so doing, increasing the obstacles to attainment
of that higher form. On a portion of such the foregoing
chapters may have some effect by leading them to con-
POLITICAL RETROSPECT AND PKOSPECT. 667
sider whether the arrangements they are advocating involve
increase of that public regulation characterizing the militant
type, or whether they tend to produce that greater indi
viduality and more extended voluntary cooperation, charac
terizing the industrial type. To deter here and there one
from doing mischief by imprudent zeal, is the chief proxi
mate effect to be hoped for.
REFERENCES.
To find the authority for any statement in the text, the reader is to
proceed as follows : — Observing the number of the section in "which
the statement occurs, he will first look out, in the following pages,
the corresponding number, which is printed in conspicuous type.
Among the references succeeding this number, he will then look
for the name of the tribe, people, or nation concerning which the
statement is made (the names in the references standing in the same
order as that which they have in the text) ; and that it may more
readily catch the eye, each such name is printed in Italics. In the
parenthesis following the name, will be found the volume and page
of the work referred to, preceded by the first three or four letters of
the author's name ; and where more than one of his works has been
used, the first three or four letters of the title of the one containing
the particular statement. The meanings of these abbreviations,
employed to save the space that would be occupied by frequent
repetitions of full titles, is shown at the end of the references ; where
will be found arranged in alphabetical order, these initial syllables of
authors' names, &c., and opposite to them the full titles of the works
referred to.
CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
§343. Australians (Mitch, ii, 68; i, 87; Ang. i, 59) — Tasmaniant
(Bon. pp. 3, 37, 226) — Esquimaux (ref. lost) — Comanches (Bane, i, 519)—
Araucanians (Smith, 196) — Bedouins (Bur. — ) — Arabs (Lyon, 53) —
Balonda (Liv. 296) — Malagasy (Ell. " Hist." i, 258)— Samoans (Tur.
289). § 344. Chinese (Will, ii, 69)— TaUtians (Ell. " Pol. Res." i, — ;
ii, 369) — Tongans (Mar. ii, 78, 100) — Ancient Mexicans (Dur. i, ch. 26) —
Peru (Gar. bk. ii, ch. 12) — Japanese (Ale. i, 63)— England (Whar. 469) —
Tahitians (Ell. " Pol. Ees." ii, 216)— Sandwich Islanders (Ell. " Hawaii,"
393-4)— Nicaraguans (Ovi. bk. xlii, ch. 2 & 3)— Peruvians (Acos. bk. v, ch. 25)
— Hebrews (Kue. i, 292-3) — Medieval Europe (ref. lost). 5 345.
Tongans (Mar. i, 146, note)— Fijians (Wil. i, 233)— Siamese (La Loub. i,
353)— Chinese (Will, i, 313)— Japanese (Stein. — ). § 346. Mongol
(Timk. i, 196) — Philippines (Jag. 161) — Chittagong Hill Tribes (Lew.
118) — Burmese (Fyt. ii, 69) — Samoans (Tur. 346) — Esquimaux (Beech, i,
242)— New Zealanders (Cook, " Last Yoy." 49)— Snake Indians (Lew. & 01,
266) — Comanches (Marcy, 29) — Fuegians (Eth. S. "Trans." i, 263) — Loango
(Pink. Voy. xvi, 331)— BatoJca (Liv. 551)— Balonda (Liv. 276)— Loango
(Ast. iii, 228) — Fuegians (U. S. Ex. i, 127) — Fiji (Wil. i, 37) —
Australia** (Mitch, i, 87) — New Zealanders (Ang. ii, 32-75) — Centra!
2 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
South Africa (Liv. — ) — Shoshones (Bane, i, 438) — Australians (Aug. i,
59)— rate (Ersk. 334)— Samoan (Tur. 194)— Africa (Liv. — )— Peruvians
(Cie. 168) — Egyptians (Wilk. plates) — Moslem (Klun. 106) — Tahitians
(Hawk. i. 447)— A^r* (Bar. i, I75)—Ta$manians (West, ii, 7)— Arabs
(Bak. S6)—Kamschadales (Krash. 212-3). § 347. Patagonians (Falk.
121)— Madagascar (Ell. "Hist," ii, 258)— Samoans (Tur. 348) — Fijiant
(Ersk. 254) — AsJiantees (Dup. 43) — Yorulas (Lan. i, 125) — Madagascar
(ref. lost)— CAtwa (Staun. 345) — Chibchas (Sim. 267) — Samoa (Tur. 314)
— Madagascar (Ell. " Visits," 127) — Japanese (Stein. — ) -— Chinese (Mil.
94)— -Rome (Beck. 213) — Assyrians (Raw. i, 503-4) —Mexico (Her. iii, 203;
Torq. bk. ix, ch. 20)— Nicaragua (Squ. ii, 346)— Pert* (Piz. 225; Xer. 48)—
Chibchas (Pied. bk. i, ch. 5)— Uganda (Speke, 294— Dahomey (Bur. i, 244)
— Alyssinians (Duf. 71 ; Bru. iv, 454, 417) —New Zealand (Thorn, i, 114)
—Egypt (Eb. i, 352)— China (Hue, "Trav." ii, 261; Gutz. ii, 311; Will,
i, 331-2 ; ii, 68-9)— Japanese (Dick. 79 ; Hit. ii, 43)— Chivalry (Scott, 3-4)
— France (Lcb. vol. xiii, passim ; Cher. 536-7) — England (Nob. passim)—
Peru (Acos. bk. v, ch. 6)— Madagascar (Ell. " Hist." i, 356)— England (Nob.
46 & passim) — France (Leb. vol. xiii, passim) — England (Nob. 315-6).
§ 349. Vate (Tur. 393)— Shoshones (Bane, i, 438)— Mishmu (Coop. 190)—
Santals (As. S. B. xx, 582) — Koossas (Lich. i, 288) — Ashantee (Beech. 211)
— Ceris and Opatas (Bane, i, 581) — Chichimecs (Bane, i, 629). § 350.
Hebrews (Judges vii, 25 ; 1 Samuel xvii, 54) — Chichimecs (Bane, i, 629) —
Abipones (Dob. ii, 408) — Mundrucus (Hen. 475) — New Zealanders (Thorn, i,
130) — Congo (Tuck. 101)— Ashantee (Dup. 227)— Persia (Mor. 186)— Timour
(Gib. ch. Ixv)— Dahomey (Bur. i, 218 ; Dal. 76)— Northern Celebes (ref. lost)
—DyaJcs (Boyle, 170-1)— Kukis (As. S. B. ix, 837)— Borneo (St. John,ii, 27).
§ 351. Ashantee (Earn. ISO)— Tahitians (Hawk, ii, 161)— Fate' (Tur. 393)
— Boigu (Roy. G. S. xx, 96) — Tupis (South, i, 222) — Caribs (Ed. i, 35) —
Moxos (Hutch. 34)— Central Americans (Fan. 315)— Poland (Gib. ch. Ixiv)
— Constantine (Gib. ch. xlviii) — Montenegro (The Times, Dec. 14, 1876).
§ 352. Mexicans (Nouv. xcix, 134; Saha. bk. ix, c. 15) — Yucatan (Her. iv,
174) — Abipones (Dob. ii, 408) — Shoshones (Lew. & Cl. 309) —Nagas (As,
S. B. ix, 959)— Mandans (Cat. i, 136)— Cochimis (Bane, i, 567). § 353,
Mexicans (Bane, i, 581) — Californians (Bane, i, 380) — Khonds (Macph. 57)
—Egyptians (Dim. i, 131)— -Abyssinians (Bru. vi, 116-17; Heri. 188-9)—
Hebrews (1 Sam. xviii, 25, 27). * § 354. Osages (Tylor, "Prim. Cult."
i, 416)— Ojibways (Hind, ii, 123). § 355. Gauls (Lehue'rou, 371 ; Par,
320, 658)— Jeivs (2 Maccabees xv, 30 ; 2 Sam. iv, 12) . § 356. Gauls (Diod.
i, 315) — Timour (Gib. ch. Ixv) — Khonds (Macph. 57) — Tahitians (Ell.
" Pol. Kes." i, 488)— Philistines (I Sam. xxxi, 10)— Greeks (Pot. ii, 109-10)
—Fijians (U.S. Ex. iii, ch. Ixxx)— Flemish (Cher. 358)— French (Leb. vi,
127). § 357. Scotland (Burt. i, 398)— Khonds (Macph. 46)— Athenian*
(Gi-ote, iii, 382)— Fiji (Wil. i, 31)— Panthay (Baber)— Fiji (Ersk. 454)—
Shoshones (Bane, i, 433) — Chichimecs (Bane, i, 629) — Hebrews (1 Sam. xi,
1-2)— Bulgarians (Gib. ch. Iv). § 358. Araucanians (Thomp., G. i,
406) — Hadrians (Dun. i, 174) — Hebreivs (Judges i, 6-7) — Fiji (Wil. i, 30,
198, 177) — Charruas (Hutch. 48 et seq.) — Mandans (ref. lost) — Tonga
(Mar. ii, 210-11)— Australians (Mitch, ii, 345)— Hottentot (Pink. Toy. xvi,
141) —Egypt (Wilk. i, 307) —Japanese (Busk, 241). § 359. Central
Americans (Her. iv, 136) —Ashantees (Ram. 216) — Anc. Mexico (Clav. bk.
vii, c. 17)— Honduras (Her. iv, 140)— Miztecs (Her. iii, 262-3)— Zapotecas
(Her. iii, 269) — Hebrews (Knobel, 226-7) — Burmese (Sang. 124) — Gond
(Fors. 164)— Astrachan (Bell, i, 43)— Hebrews (2 Kings, xix). § 360.
Sandwich Islands (Ell. " Hawaii," 165-6 ; Ell. W. ii, 69)— Australians (Ang.
ii, 217 ; Hay. 103-4)— Anc. Peruvians (Cie. 177, 181). § 361. Britain
(Cox and Jones, 88)— Kalmucks (Pal. — )— Chinese (Will, ii, 224)— Greeks
and Romans (Smith, W. s.v. " Coma ") — Nootkas (Bane, i, 195) — Caribs
(Ed. i,42)— Nicaragua (Her. iii, 298)— Central Americans (Cog.bk. iVjCh.4)^
REFERENCES. 3
Ancient Mexicans (Zur. Ill) — Chibchas (Pied. bk. i, ch. 2) — Itzaex
iii, 56) — Europe (Due. 379) — Clovis and Alaric (Due. 383) — Dacotahs
(Lew. & Cl. 64) — Caribs (Ed. i, 42) — Hebrews (Leviticus xxi, 5; Jer. xvi,
6) — Greeks and jRomans (Smith, W. s.v. " Coma ") — Greeks (Pot. ii,
198-9; Soph. 47; Beck. 398; Smith, W. s.v. "Coma") — Romans (ref.
lost) — Hebrews (Jer. xli, 5) — Arabians (Krehl, 32-3) — Ancient Peru
(Acosta, bk. v, ch. 5)—Tahitians (Hawk, i, 468)— France (Guizot " Col." — ).
§ 362. Spoleto (Crib. — ) — Phrygian (Dun. i, 531) — Mexicans (Brin.
147)— Hottentots (Kol. i, 112)— Phoenicians (Mov. i, 362)— San Salvador
(Squ. ''Coll." 87)— Moses (Exod. iv, 24-26)— Antiochus (1 Mace, i, 48-60)—
Mattathias (1 Mace, ii, 45-6) — Hyrcanus (Jos. i, 525) — Aristobulus (Jos. i,
532)—Tongans (Mar. ii, 59)— Berbers (Rohlfs, 45). § 363. Kaffirs
(G-ard. 264) — Jews (Jerem. xli, 5) — Samoans (Tur. 187) — Central Americans
(Mart. 338). § 364. Huns (Jor. 215)— Turks (Pell, i, 158, note) —
Lacedaemonians (Pot. ii, 204) — Hebrews (Levit. xix, 28 — Scandinavians
(Heim. i, 224, 225) — Andamans (Eth. S. "Trans." ii, 36) — Abeokuta
(Bur. i, 104) — Cuebas (Bane, i, 753) — Peruvians (Cie. 311) — Sandwich
Islanders (Ell. W. ii, 152) — Darian Indians (Bane, i, 771) — Sandwich-
Islanders (Ell. " Hawaii," 166) — Eastern (reference lost) — Hebrews (Dent,
xxxii, 5; Rev. vii, 2-3; xiv, 1, 9, 10) — Arabs (Thomson, i, 91) — Christians
(Kal. ii, 429-30) >— Mexico (Torq. bk. ix, ch. 3D— Angola (Bast. 76) —
Tongans (Mar. ii, 268). § 365. Bechuanas (Lich. ii, 331) — Damaras
(And. 224)— Congo (Tuck. 80)— Itzaex (Fan. 313)— Abipones (Dob. ii, 35).
§ 368. Ancient Peruvians (Gar. bk. ii, ch. 4). § 369. Mexico (Torq.
bk. xiv, ch. 9) — Chibchas (Sim. 251) — Yucatan (Landa, § xx) — Tahitiam
(Forst. 370) — Fiji (Wil. i, 28) — Tahiti (Ell. "Pol. Res." i, 319) —Fiji
(Ersk. — )— Malagasy (Drur. 220). § 370. Timbuctoo (Cail. ii, 53)—
Kaffirs (Lich. i, 287, 271)— Vera Paz (Torq. bk. xi, ch. 19) — Chibchas
(Pied. bk. i, ch. 5) — Mexicans (Tern, x, 404) — Peru (Guz. 91) — Hebrews
(2 Chron. ix, 23-4; 1 Sam. x, 27) — Japan (Dick. 325 ; Ksem. 49) — China
(Chin. Rep. iii, 110-11)— Burmah (Yule, 76)— Merovingians (Bouq. ii, 647)
—England (Rob. 20). § 371. Persia (Mai. ii, 477-8)— Tonga (Mar. i,
232, note)— Mexicans (Dur. i, ch. 25 ; Tern, xvi, 288-9) — Montezuma (Gal.
117 ; Tern, x, 405) — Merovingians and Carolingians (Wai. ii, 557 ; iv,
91-5-8; Gruer. "St. Pere," introd. j Leber, vii, — ; Guer. "St. Pere,"
introd.)— English (Stuhbs, i, 278). § 372. Chibchas (Pied. bk. ii, ch.
4) — Sumatra (Mars. 211) — Jummoo (Drew " Jum." 15) — Anglo-Saxons
(Broom, 27)— Normans (Moz. s.v. " Orig. Writ.;" Black, iii, 279)—Kirffhis
(ref. lost) — France (Guizot, " Hist." iii, ^60 ; Cher. s.v. " Epices ") — English
(Rob. 1 ; Stubbs, i, 384) -Spain (Rose, i, 79)— Bechuanas (Burch. i, 544) —
Dahomey (For. i, 34)— East (Van Len. ii, 592). § 373. Congo (Tuck.
116) — Tonquin (Tav. description of plates) — New Caledonians (Tur. 88) —
Veddah (Eth. S. "Trans." ii, 301)— Dyaks (Brooke, ii, 73)— Greeks (Guhl,
283) — Zulu (Gard. 96) — Hebreivs (Levit.' i) — Greeks (Pot. i, 239) —
Hebrews (I Sam. xxi, 6) — England (Hook, 541). § 374. Ancient
Mexico (Saha. bk. iii, ch. 1, § 3-4) — Kukis (As. S. B. xxiv, 630) — Battas
(Mars. 386)—£uxtars (His. 17) -Dahomey (Bur. ii, 153 ; For. i, 174)—
Ashantees (Beech. 189) — Tahitians (Ell. " Pol. Res." ii, 271) — Central
America (Ovi. bk. xlii, ch. 2 and 3) — Greeks (Pot. i, 172, 24,7)— Early
Christians (Hook, 540-1) — Mediaeval (Guer. " N. Dame," i, p. xiv).
§ 375. China (Staun. 351)— Kukis (But. 94)— Dahomey (For. ii, 243)— Ger
mans (Tac.xiv)— French (Duc.96 ; Moris, bk. i, ch.59). " § 376. Austra
lians (Hawk, iii, 634) — Osti/aks (Bell, ii, I8ty—Julifunda (Park, —)—Norlh
American Indians (Cat. i, 223, note) — rucatanes? (Landa, § xxiii) — Japanese
(Mit. i, 112, 142) —Himalayas (Mark. 108)— Bootan fTurn. 223,72:— licme
4: CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
(Cor. 14-15)— France (Du M. 115). § 379. Joloffs (Mol. 31)— Kaffir*
(Shoot. 99) — Ancient Peruvians (Cie. 262; Xer. 68)— Mexico (Tern, xvi,
333-4)— AsJiantee (Beech. 94-6)— Dahomey (Bur. i, 296) )— M adagascar
(Ell. " Visits," 127)— Siam (Bowr. ii, \V$)— Mogul (Tav. ii, 67)— Jummoo
(Drew, "North. Bar." 47) — Japan (Ksem. 49, 66, 11)— France (Tocq. 225).
§ 380. Spain (Rose i, 119)— Japan (Kami. 51 .; 46). § 381. WahTidbees
(Pal. ii, 110) — Persia (Tav. bk. v, ch. xiy, 235) — Africa (Grant, 48) —
Trench (Kules, 150). § 383. Shoshones (Lew. & Cl. 265) — Batoka
(Liv. 55 V)— Tonga (Forst. 361) — Africa (Laird i, 192)— Peru (Gar. bk. iii,
ch. 2 ; Markham 94). § 384. Chibcha (Sim. 264)— Borghoo (Lan. ii, 183)
— Asia (Camp. 147; Bowr. ii, 270)— Polynesia (Cook, "Last Voy." 304)—
Jews (2 Sam. ix, 6) — Bithynia (Mon. — ) — Bootan (Turn. 80) — Coast
Negroes (Bos. 317) — Brass (Laird i, 97) — Congo (Tuck. 125) — Niger (All.
& T. i, 392) — Russia (ref. lost) — China (Will, ii, 68-9) — Hebrews
(Gen. xxxiii, 3; xvii. 17 ; Dan. ii, 46 ; iii, 6) — Mongols (Pall. — ) — Japanese
(Koem. 50). § 385. Dahomey (Bur. i, 261) — Mexicans (Dur. i,
207) —New Caledonians (Ersk. 356)— Dahomey (Bur. i, 262)— Siam (Bowr.
i, 128)— Cambodia (Bowr. ii, 31)— Zulu (Gard. 203)— Loango (Ast. iii, 221)
— Dahomey (Bur. i, 250 ; ii, 45) — Japan (Dick. 30) — China (Pink, vii,
238) — Europe (Ste. Pal. ii, 197-8) — Japanese (Chin. Rep. iii, 200) —
China (Will, ii, 68) — Soosoos (Wint. i, 123) — Samoa (Tur. 332) —Ancient
Mexicans (Nouv. xcviii, 200) — Chinese (Will, ii, 68) — Congoese (Bast. 143).
§ 386. Loango (Ast. iii, 228) — Uganda (Speke, 331)— Balonda (Liv. 296)
—Karague (Grant, 140)— JY;* (Wil. i, 35-6)— JEioe (Laird i, 388)— Ancient
Mexicans (Diaz, ch. 71) — Abyssinians (Har. iii, 170) — Malagasy (Drur.
67-8) — Ancient Peru (Xer. 68) — Persia (Por. i, 464) — Tonga (Mar. i, 227
note) — Arabian (Pax. iv,43) — Orientals (ref. lost)— Mexico (Clav. bk. vi, ch.8)
— Peru (Acos. bk. v, ch. 4; Gar. bk. ii, ch. 8) — Greeks (Smith, W.s.v. "Sal-
tatio")— Pepin (Bouq. v, 433) . § 387. Africa (Bur. " Dah." i, 259-60 ;
All. &T. i, 345 ; Liv. 276, 296 ; All. & T. i, 392)— Jews (Jos.ii, 287)— Turkey
(Whiteii,239; i,232)— Jeios(\ Kings xx, 32; Josh.vii,6). §388. Uganda
(Grant, 224)— Chinese (Doo. i, 121)— Mongol (Hue, " Chin. Emp." i, 54)—
Malagasy (Drur. 78) — Siamese (La Loub. i, 179) — Unyanyembe (Grant,
52)— Sumatra (Mars. 281) — Greeks (ref. lost; — Siamese (Bowr. i, 128) —
China (Will, ii, 68) . § 389. Fijians (Ersk. 297)—Otaheitans (Hawk, ii,
84) — Soudan (Tylor, "Early Hist." 50) — Uganda (Speke, 374) — Abyssinia
(Har. iii, 171) — Tahitians (Ell. " Pol. Res." ii, 352 ; Forst. 361) — Gold
Coast (Cruic. ii, 282 ; ref. lost)— Spain (Ford, " Gatherings," 249)— Dahomey
(Bur. i, 49) — Gold Coast (Cruic. ii, 282) — Ancient America (Anda. 58;
Tern. —)—Burmah (Yule, 79)— Persia (Mor. 241)— Ancient Mexico (Diaz,
ch. 91) — Peru (Anda. 58) — Dahomey (Dal. p. vii) — France (Com.
bk. ii, ch. 3 ; St. Sim. xi, 378) — Hebrews (Isa. xxxii, 11) — East (Pax. iv,
136)— Peru (Gar. bk. vi, ch. 21)— Damaras (And. 231) — Turks (White ii,
96). § 390. Toorkee (Grant, 333) — Slave Coast (Bos. 318) — China
(Gray, i, 211)— Mosquitos (Bane, i, 741)— Arabs (Mai. — ; Nieb. ii; 247).
§ 391. Kamschadales (Krash. 177)— Uganda (Grant, 228). § 392. Poles
(Spen. i, 156-7)— Turkish (White ii, 303)— Siam (Bowr. i, 127 ; La Loub.
ii, 178) — Russia (ref. lost). §393. Tupis (Stade, 151, 59)— Africa
(Mol. 288)— Sandwich Is. (Ell. "Hawaii," 385)— France (La Sale, 196)—
Spain (Ford, " Handbook," p. Ixi). § 394. France (Cher, ii, 1131)—
Hebrews (2 Sam. xiv, 22 ; Isaiah xlviii, 20 ; 2 Kings xvi, 7) — Europe
(Due. 393) — Samoan (Tur. 348). § 395. Egypt (ref. lost) — Siam
(Bowr. i, 127) — Turkey (White ii, 52) —Bulgarians (Times, 12 Dec. 1876)
— French (Sully — ) — Delhi (Tav. ii, 84-5) — Russia (ref. lost) — France
(ref. lost)— Chinese (Gray i, 211) — India (Pax. ii, 74) — Persians (Tav.
bk. v, ch. iii, 205). § 396. Snakes (Lew. & Cl. 266) — Araucanians
(Smith, 195-6)— Arabs (Lyon, 53)— Chinese (Du H.ii, 185)— France (Mon. — ).
§ 397. Abipones (Dob. ii, 204)— Samoa (Ersk. 107)— Javans (Raf. i, 366)—
Mexican (Gal. 28)— Kaffirs (Shoot. 221)— Samoa (Ersk. 44)— Siam (Bowr.
i, 276) — China (Chin. Eep. iv, 157) — Siam (Bowr. i, 127-9) — Chinese
(Du H. ii, 177)— Siamese (La Loub. i, 166-7)— Japanese (Stein. 299-300)—
Germany (G-er. 124; May. i, 395) — France (Chal. ii, 31) — Samoa (Tur.
340). § 398. Dacotahs (ref. lost)— F«WaA* (Eth. S. " Trans." ii, 298)
— China (Chin. Eep. iv, 157). § 400. Tupis (South, i, 222; Stade,
145) _ Creeks (ref. lost) — Nicaragua (Ovi. bk. xiii, ch. 1) —Fiji (Wil. i,
55) — Mexico (Dur. i, 102-3) — Fiji (ref. lost). § 401, Tiipit
(South, i, 239) — Guatemala (Xim. 163, etc.) — Dahomey (Bur. ii, 407) —
Usambara (Krapf, 395)— Zulu (G-ard. 91 ; Shoot. 290)— Kaffir (Shoot. 99)
— Samoa (Ersk. 44) — Mexicans (Her. iii, 204) — Chibchas (Her. v, 86) —
Peruvians (Our. bk. iii, ch. 8) — Surmah (Daily News, 24, Mar. 1879).
§ 402. Todas (ref. lost) — Tartars (Pink, vii, 591) — Madagascar
(Ell. " Hist." i, 261) — Dahomey (Bur. i, 262) — Ancient Mexicans (Mot.
31) — Kasias (As. S. B. xiii, 620). § 403. China and Japan (Ale. ii,
843) — Zulus (ref. lost) — Nicaraguans (Squ. ii, 357-8) — Dahomey (Bur.
i, 273) — Asia (Tav. ii, 24) — Zulus (Gard. 91) — Japanese (Mit. i, 202) —
Siam (Bowr. i, 275) — China (Hue, i, 268) — Siam (Pink, ix, 86) —
Russia (Wahl, 35) —Dyaks (St. John ii, 103)— Kasias (As. S. B. xiii, 620)
— Bechuana (Thomp. i, 174). §404. Teutonic (Mul. ii, 280).
§405. King (Mul. ii, 284)— Abyssinia (Bru. iv, 452)— France (Cher.
66-7)— Merovingian (Mioh. i, 174, note). § 406. Samoa (Tur. 281)
— Siam (Pink, ix, 584 ; La Loub. i, 237)— Chinese (Will, ii, 71 ; i, 521)—
Home (Mom. ii, 3Q8-9)—Mecklenburgh (Spen. i, 44)— Spain (Ford " Hand
book," p. Ixi). § 407. Dahomey (Bur. i, 52)— Surman (Yule, 194)—
China (Will, i, 317)— Europe (Ger. 91)— Russia (Sala, 252). § 408.
UJcuni (Grant, 92) — Zulus (ref. lost) — Uganda (Speke, 290) — Chichi-
•necs (Church, iv, 513) — Yucatanese (Landa, § xxix). § 409. Japan
(Busk, 21)— Madagascar (Ell. " Visits," — ) — Uganda (Speke, 375)— Japan
(Dick. 49)— Hebrews (Ew. iii, 73)— Zeus (Pan. bk. ix, c. 40)— Franks
(Wai. ii, 130; Greg. bk. vii, ch. 33; Leb. xiii, 259-65) — Araucanians
(ref. lost) — Uganda (Speke, 429) — France (ref. lost). § 410.
Peruvians (Gar. bk. vii, ch. 6 ; Markham, 54, note) — Sandwich Is. (Ell.
" Hawaii," 142) — Fijians (U. S. Ex. iii, 79) — Chibchas (Sim. 269) —
Mexicans (Clav. bk. vii, chs. 22 & 24). § 411. ThlinJceets (Bane, i,
109)— China (Du H. i, 278). § 412. Africa (rsf. lost; Heug. 92-3)
— Greeks (Guhl, 232) — Sandwich, Is. (Hawk, ii, 192) — Tonga (Hawk. — )
—Fundah (Laird i, 202)— Arabs (Pal. — )— Gaul (Quich. 25-31; 57-66)—
Rome (Gruhl, 485)— Madagascar (Ell. " Hist." i, 279)— Siam (La Loub.
i, 75)— Mongol (Bell i, 344)— France (Le Grand, ii, 184;— ref. lost)—
China (Staun. 244) — Japan (Ksem. 43). §413. Guatemala (Ath.
p. 1537) — Chibchas (Or. 24-5) — Cimbri (Tac. 15)— Ashantee (Dup. 71)—
Malagasy (Ell. " Hist." i, 284)— Dakota* (Lew. & Cl. 44)— Kulcis (As. S. B.
xxiv, 646) — Dyaks (Boyle, 95) — New Zealand (Thorn, i, 164)— Mandans
(Cat. i, 101)— Nagas (As. S. B. viii, 464)— Hottentots (Kol. i, 198)— Snakes
(Low. & Cl. 315)— Congo (Tuck. 362)— Chibchas (Acos. 219 ; Sim. 253)—
Peru (Gar. bk. iv, ch. 11) — France (ref. lost) — New Zealanders (Hawk, iii,
457)— Astrachan (Bell, i, 43). § 414. Rome (Mom. ii, 335, n. ; Guhl,
497-8)— France (ref. lost). §415. Tahitians (Ell. "Pol. Res." ii,
354)— Home (Mom.i, 72)— Mexicans (Torq. bk. xiv, ch. 4)— Peru (Gar. bk. i,
ch. 213) — Some (Guhl, 479) — Russia (Cust. — ; Wag. ii, 21) — Germany
(Spen. ii, 176). § 416. LombocJc (Wai. i, 344)— Surma (Yule, 163)—
Siam (Bowr. i, 125)— Dacotahs (School, iv, 69) — Abipones (Dob. ii, 106)—
Mishmis (As. S. B. v, 195-6)— Sambaras (Cail. i, 377) — Gold Coast (Bos.
112). § 417. Guatemala (Juar. 194-5)— Tanna (Tur. 77)— Mexican*
(Dur. i, 55 ; Her. iii, 198)— Hottentot (Kol. i, 50-51)— Egyptians (Wilk. iii,
360-3). § 418. Mexico (Clav. — )— Dahomey (Dal. 98; Bur. i, 217)—
Japan (Stein. — ) — Surmah (Yule, 139 ; Sang. 127 ; Symes — , 185-6).
6 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
§419. Chilchas (Sim. 253)— Madagascar (Ell. "Hist." i, 283)— Romans
(Ghihl, 513)— Japan (Ksem. 70)— China (Will, i, 404)— Turkey (White, i,
4B)—Siam (Bowr., i, 117)— Congo (Bast. 57)— Assyrians (Raw. i, 495)—
India (ref. lost) — SYaw (Bowr. i, 425)— China (Ghitz. ii, 278) — Java (Raf. i,
Sl2)—Utlatlan (Torq. bk. xi, ch. IS)— Dahomey (Waitz, ii, 87)— Siamese
(Bowr. i, H6)—Joloffs (Bast. 57). § 420. Tasmanians (Bon. " Daily
Lite," 64)— Australia (Sturt, ii, 64)— Zfco»d (Macph. 56)— Tahiti (E1L
"Pol. Res." i, 222)—Fijians (U. S. Ex. iii, 332; See. 179)— CSWJcAo* (Sim.
253)— /Saw Salvador (Her. iv, 149)— Pert* (Acos. bk. iv, ch. 22). § 421.
Society Islands (Forst. 271)— Fijian (Ersk. 430)— Sumatra (Mars. 47)—
Indians (ref. lost)— ZYz£ift (EU. "Pol. Res." i, 173)— Karague (Speke, 210 &
231)— Tahiti (Cham. *.«. " Ava")— Guatemala (Xim. 157). §424.
JY/i (— ; Wil. i, 39)— J>ar>r (ref. lost) — Burgundy (Quick 299)— JVawce
(Ste. Beuve, ref.lost). § 425. New Zealand (Ang. i, 319 ; Thorn, i, 190).
§ 428. Abyssinia (Bra. vi, 16) — Mexicans (Clav. bk. vi, ch. 20).
§ 429. Fiji (Ersk. 462; Wil. i, 39 ; i, 37)— Uganda (Speke, 298 ; Stan, i,
369 ; Speke, 256 & 258)— Siamese (Bowr. i, 434)— Fiji (U. S. Ex. iii, 326)—
Loango (Ast. iii, 226) — Ashantee (Cruic. i, 109) — Siamese (La Loub. i, 186
& 172) — China (Pink, vii, 265; Hue, "Chin. Empire," i, 212) — Japan
(Dick. 45)— Russia (Cust. — )— Siamese (La Loub. i, 172 ; Bowr. i, 435)—
Burma (Sjmes, 244) — China (Will, i, 509 ; Hue, " Chin." ii, 289).
§ 431. Japan (ref. lost)— Russia (Cust. —}— Spain (ref. lost). § 432.
China (Will, i, 509).
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„ The Chinese Umpire. Trans. 1855.
Hutch.— Hutchinson (T. J.) The Parana. 1868.
Jag. — Jagor (F.) Travels in the Philippines. Trans. 1875.
Jor. — Jornandes (Episc. Ravenn.) De Q-etarum sive Gothorum origine et
rebus gestis. (In L. A. Muratori, Rermn Ital. Script. Mediol. 1723.
Tom. i.)
Jos.— Josephus (Flavins) Works. Trans. Whiston. 1825.
Juar. — Juarros (Dom.) Statistical and commercial history of Guatemala.
Trans. 1824.
Kaera. — Ksempfer (E.) Account of Japan. (Universal Lib.) 1853.
KaL— Kalisch (M.) Commentary on the Old Testament — Leviticus. 1867-72.
Klun. — Klmizinger (C. B.) Upper Egypt. 1878.
Rnobel — Knobel (Aug.) Die Bilcher Exodus und Leviticus. Leipzig, 18SO.
EoL— Kolben (P.) Present state of the Cape of Good Hope. Trans. 1731.
Krapf— Krapf (J. L.) Travels, $c., in Eastern Africa. 1860.
Krash. — Krasbeninnikov (S. P.) History of Kamschatka. Trans, by J.
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Krehl — Krehl (L.) Ueber die Religion der Vorislamischen Araber. Leipzig,
1863.
Kue.— Kuenen (A.) The Religion of Israel. Trans. 1874-5.
Laird — Laird (M.) and Oldfield (R. A. K.) Expedition into the interior of
Africa, by the Niger. 1837.
La Loub. — La Loubere (M. de) Du royaume de Siam en 1687-8. Amst. 1691.
La Sale — La Sale (A. de) The history of little Jehan de Saintre. Trans.
1862.
Landa — Landa (Diego de) Relation des choses de Yucatan. (In Collection
de documents ; par Srasseur de Bourbourg, vol. iii. Paris, 1864).
Lan.— Lander (Richard) Records of Capt. Clapperton's last expedition.
1830.
Leb. — Leber (C.) Collection des meilleures dissertations relatives .« Vhistoire
de France. Paris, 1826-38.
Le Grand — Le Grand d'Aussy (P. J. B.) Fabliaux ou contes du Xlle et du
XI He siecle. Paris, 1779-81.
Lehuerou — Lebuerou (J. M.) Histoire des institutions Carolingiennes,
Paris, 1813.
Lew. — Lewin (T. H.) Wild races of south-eastern India. 1870.
Lew. & Cl.— Lewis (M.) and Clarke (W.) Travels to the source of the
Missouri. 1817.
Lich.— Lichtenstein (H.) Travels in southern Africa. Trans. 1812-15.
Liv. — Livingstone (D.) Missionary travels and researches in south Africa*
1857.
Lyon — Lyon (Capt. G-. F.) Travels in northern Africa. 1821.
Macpb. — Macpberson (Lieut.) Report upon the Khonds of Ganjam and
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Mai. — Malcolm (Sir J.) History of Persia. 1815.
Marcy— Marcy (Col. R. B.) Thirty years of army life on the border. New
York, 1866.
10 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
Mar. — Mariner (W.) Account of the natives of the Tonga islands. 1818.
Markham — Markham (C. R.) Reports on the discovery of Peru. (Hakluyt
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Mark. — Markham (Col. F.) Shooting in the Himalayas. 1854.
Mars.— Marsden (W.) History of Sumatra. 1811.
Mart. — Martyr ab Angleria (Petrus) De rebus oceanicis Decades tres. Colo
nise, 1574.
May. — Mayhew (H.) German life and manners. 1864.
Mich. — Michelet (J.) History of France Trans. 1844-6.
Mil.— Milne (Rev. W. C.) Life in China. 1858.
Mitch. — Mitchell (Sir T. L.) Three ".xpeditions into the interior of Eastern
Australia. 1839.
Mil.— Mitford (A. B.) Tales of old Japan. 1871.
Mol. — Mollien (Or. T.) Travels in the interior of Africa to the source* of th«
Senegal and Gambia. Trans. 1820.
Mom. — Mommsen (Th.) History of Rome. Trans. 1868.
Mons. — Monstrelet (E. de) Chronicles. Trans. 1840.
Mor. — Morier (J.) Second journey through Persia. 1818.
Mot. — Motoiinia (Fr. T. Benavente) Historia de los Indios de Nueva
Espana. (In Coleccion de documentos para la historia de Mexico.
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Mov.— Movers (F. C.) Die Phonizier. Bonn, 1841-56.
Moz. — Mozley (H. N.) and Whiteley (G. S.) Conci.se law dictionary. 1876.
Mul. — Miiller (F. Max) Lectures on the science of language. 1873.
Nieb. — Niebuhr (M.) Travels through Arabia. Trans. Edinb. 1792.
Nob.— Noble (Rev. M.) History of the College of Arms. 1804.
Nouv. — Nouvelles annales des voyayes. Tomes 98, 99. Paris, 1843.
Ovi. — Oviedo y Valdes (GK F. de) Historia general y natural de las Indias.
Madrid, 1851-55.
Pal. — Palgrave (W. G.) Narrative of a year's journey through central and
eastern Arabia. 1865.
Pall. — Pallas (P. S.) Voyages dans les gouvernements meridionaux de la
Russie. Trad. Paris, 1805.
Par. — Pai'deesus (J. M.) Loi .fatigue. Paris, 1843.
Park — Park (Mungo) Travels in Africa, (Pinkerton's Voyages, vol. xvi.)
Pan. — Pausanias. Description of Greece. Trans. 1824.
Pax. — Paxton (G.) Illustrations of Scripture. Edinb. 1843.
Pell.— Pelloutier (S.) Histoire des Celtes. Paris, 1770-71.
Pied. — Fiedrahita (L. Fernandez de) Historia del nuevo reyno de Granada.
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Pink— Pinkerton (J.) General collection of voyages. 1808-14.
Piz. — Pizarro (P.) Relacion del descubrimiento y conquista de los reinos de
Peru, Ano 1571. (In F. Navarrete, Salva y Bara-ada, Coleccion de docu
mentos ineditos para la historia de Espana. Madrid, 1844.)
Por. — Porter (Sir R. K.) Travels in Georgia, Persia, Armenia, ancient
Babylonia. 1821-2.
Pot. — Potter (J.) ArchcBologia Graca. Edinb. 1827.
Quich. — Quicherat (J.) Histoire du costume en France. Paris, 1875.
Raf.— Raffles (Sir T. S.) History of Java. 1817.
Ram. — Ramseyer (F. A.) and Kuhne (J.) Four years in Ashantee. Trans.
1875.
Raw. — Rawlinson ((*.) The five great monarchies of the ancient eastern
world. 1871.
Rob.— Roberts (George) Social history of the southern counties of England
1856.
Rohlfs— Rohlfs (G.) Adventures in Morocco. 1874.
Rose— Rose (Rev. H. J.) Untrodden Spain. 1874.
Roj G. S. — Royal Geographical Society. Proceedings, yol. xx. 1876.
REFERENCES. 11
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Saha. — Sahagun (Bernardino de) Historia general de las cosas de nueva
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St. John— St. John (Sir Spencer) Life in the forests of the far east. 1862.
St. Sim. — Saint Simon (Due de) Memoir es. Paris, 1839-41.
Ste Beuve— Sainte-Beuve (0. A.) Nouveaux Lundis. Paris, 1863-72.
Ste. Pal. — Ste. Palaye (La Curne de) Memoires sur Vancienne c.kevalerie.
Paris, 1781.
Sula — Sala (G. A.) Journey due north. 1858.
Sang. --Sangerrnano (Father) Description of the Burmese empire. Trans.
Rome, 1833.
Schom. — Schomburgk (Sir R. H.) Seisen in IB ritisch- Guiana. Leipzig,
1847-49.
School. — Schoolcraffc (H. R.) Information respecting the Indian tribes of
the U.S. 1853-56.
Scott — Scott (Sir W.) Chivalry, romance, and the drama. (In Miscel
laneous Prose Works. Edinb. 1841.)
See. — Secmann (B.) Viti; a mission to the Vitian or FijianTislands. Camb.
1862.
Sel. — Selections from the Records of Government of India. (Foreign Depart.)
Shoot. —Shooter (Rev. J.) The Kafirs of Natal and the Zulu country. 1857.
Sim. — Simon (P.) Tercera (y cuarta) noticia. (In Lord Kingsborough's
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Smith— Smith (E. R.) The Araucanians. 1855.
Smith, W. — Smith (Dr. W.) Dictionary of Greek and Roman antiquities.
1849.
Soph —Sophocles. The Electra. Ed. by R. C. Jebb. 1880.
South.— Southey (R.) History of Brazil. 1810-19.
Speke — Speke ( J. H.) Journal of the discovery of the source of the Nile. 1863.
Spen. — Spencer (Capt. E.) Germany and the Germans. 1836.
Squ.— Squier (E. Gr.) Nicaragua. 1852.
„ Collection of documents concerning the discovery and
conquest of America. New York, 1860.
Stade — Stade (Hans) Captivity in Brazil. Trans. (Hakluyt Soc.) 1874.
Stan.— Stanley (H. M.) How I found Livingstone. 1872.
Staun. — Staunton (Sir G.) Account of embassy to China. 1797.
Stein. — Steinmetz (A.) Japan and her people. 1859.
Stubbs— Stubbs (Bp. W.) Constitutional history of England. Oxford, 1874.
Sturt — Sturt (Capt. Chas.) Two expeditions into the interior of Australia.
1833.
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Symes — Syrnes (M.) Account of embassy to Ava. 1800.
Tac. — Tacitus (C. C.) Germania. Trans, by John Aikin. 1823.
Tav. — Tavernier (J. B.) Six voyages through Turkey into Persia and the
East Indies. Trans. 1678.
Tern. — Ternaux-Compans (II.) Recueil de pieces relatives a la conquete du
Mexique. (In Voyages, Relations, fyc., vols. x, and xvi. Paris, 1837-41.)
Thomp. — Thompson (Geo.) Travels and adventures in Southern Africa. 1827.
Thomp., Gr. — Thompson (Col. Geo.) The ivar in Paraguay. 1869.
Thorn. — Thomson (A. S.) The story of New Zealand. 1859.
Thomson— Thomson (W. M.) The Land and the Boole. 1859.
Timk. — Timkowski (G.) Travels through Mongolia. Trans. 1827.
Tocq. — Tocqueville (A. de) Slate of society in France before 1789. Trans.
1856.
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Tuck. — Tuckey (Capt. J. K.) Narrative of an expedition to the river Zaire*
1818.
Tur. — Turner (Rev. G.) Nineteen years in Polynesia. 1861.
12 CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
Turn. — Turner (Capt. S.) Embassy to the court of the Teshoo Lama in
Thibet. 1800.
Tyl. — Tylor (E. B.). Researches into the early history of mankind. 1878.
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V. S. Ex. — United States Exploring Expedition. (Coram. C. Wilkes.)
Phil. 1845.
Ur. — Uricoechea (E.) Memoria sobre las antiguedades Neo-Granadinas.
Berlin, 1854.
Van Len. — Van Lennep (H. J.) "Bible lands, their modern customs and
manners. 1875.
Wag. — Wagner (M.) Travels in Persia, Georgia, and Koordistan. Trans.
1856.
Wahl— Wahl (O. W.) The Land of the Czar. 1875.
Wai. — Waitz (Geo.) Deutsche Verfassungsgeschichte. Kiel. Vols. i and ii
(2nd ed.), 1865-70; vols. iii and iv, 1860-1.
Waitz — Waitz (T.) Anthropologie der Naturvollcer. Leipzig, 1859-72.
Wai.— Wallace (A. E.) The Malay Archipelago. 1869.
West — West (J.) History of Tasmania. Launceston, Tasmania, 1852.
Whar.— Wharton (J. S.) Laio Lexicon. 1876.
White— White (C.) Three years in Constantinople. 1845.
Wilk. — Wilkinson (Sir. J. Gr.) Manners and customs of the ancient Egyptians.
Ed. by S. Birch, 1878.
Will. — Williams (S. W.) The middle kingdom; geography, ^c., of the Chinese
empire. 1848.
Wil. — Williams (Eev. T.) and Calvert (J.) Fiji and the Fijians. 1860.
Wint. — Winterbottom (T.) Account of the native Africans in the neighbour
hood of Sierra Leone. 1803.
Xer. — Xeres (F. de) Account of Cuzco. (In Reports on the discovery of Peru.
Trans. (Hakluyt Soc.) 1872.)
Xirn. — Ximenes (F.) Las historias del origen de los Indios de Guatemala.
Viena, 1857.
Yule— Yule (Col. H.) Narrative of mission to Ava. 1858.
Zur. — Zurita (Al. de) Rapports sur les dijferentes classes de chefs de In
Nouvelle-Etpaqne. (In Younges^ &c., par H. Ternaux-Coinpaiis,
Vol. xi. Paris, 1840.)
REFERENCES.
(For explanation see the first page of References.'}
POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
§ 437. Santals (Hunt. "Ann."i, 2±8)—Sowrahs (Short* Pt. iii, 38)—
Todas (Hark. 18; Metz, 13; Hark. ll^—Tipperahs (Hunt. "Stat."vi,
53)— Marias [Gonds] (Glas. No. xxxix, ±Y)—Khonds (Macph. vii, 196)—
Santals (Hunt. "Ann." i, 215-6)— Lepchas (Eth. Soc. "Jour." N. S. i, 150)
—Bodo & Dhimals (As. S.B. xviii, 74£)—Carnattcs (Hunt. " Die." 10)—
Chakmds (Hunt. "Stat." vi, 48)— Santals (Hunt. "Ann." i, 215-6 ; Dalt.
217)— Bodo & Dhimals (As. S.B. xviii, 745)— Lepchas (Hook, i, 175 ; Eth.
Soc. "Jour." N.S. i, 154)— New Guinea (D'Alb. 45, 48, 58-9)— Fijians
(ref. lost) — Dahomey (Bur. i, 195, note ; ii, 190, note) — Mexicans (Tern.
x. 212 ; Clav. bk. vij ch. 18 ; Diaz, ch. 208 ; Her. iii, 208-9)— Cent. Amer
icans (Landa § xxiv ; Gall, i, 104 ; Her. iii, 223 ; Pres. bk. i, ch. iv ; Her.
iv, ll^—Veddahs (Bail, ii, 228; Ten. ii, 445 ; Prid. i, 461). § 442.
Digger Indians (Kel. i, 252-3)— Chaco Indians (Hutch. 28ff)—Unyoro
(Eth. Soc. " Trans." 1867, 234-5)— New Zealand (Hawk, iii, 470)— Belu-
chces (Eth. Soc. "Jour." i, 109)— Greeks (Cur. i, 115-6)— Carolingians
(Dun. i, 101). § 443. Egyptians (Wilk. i, 330-336)— Roman (Lact.
cc. 7, 23, Salv. bk. v)— France (Guiz. iii, 251-2 ; Clam, i, 355-438, ii,
160-230, i, pp. xxv-\i)—Gwalior ("The Statesman," Aug. 1880, 218-19)
—Japan (ref. lost)— Byzantium (Gib. iii, 303, ch. liii). § 446.
Rome (Duruy iii, 126-7). § 448. Bechuanas (Burch. ii, 532) — Greeks
(Horn. " Iliad," bk. i)—Khonds (Macph. 43). § 449. Scminoles and
Snakes (School. "I.T." v.260)— Peruvians ($<ya\. "Peru," 19; Cie. ch.xiii)
— Equatorial Africa (Grant — ) — Abors (As. S.B. xiv, 426) — Damaras (ref.
lost) — Rookies (As. S. B. xxiv, 633) — Mishmees (Coop. 228) — Bachapins
(Burch. ii, 512). § 450. Bushmen (Lich. ii, 194)— Rock VeddaJis
(Ten. ii, 440)— New^ Zealand (ref. lost)— S.^ Americans (Humb. ii, 412)
—Athenians (Gro. iii, 88) — Romans (Mom. i, 65) — Greeks (Gro. iii, 77)
—Rome (Coul. " C. Ant." 146 ; Mom. i, 67)— India (Maine, " E. H." 107)
—Greeks (Gro. ii, 312-3). § 451 . Karens (As. S. B. xxxvii, 152)— Hot
tentots (Kol. i, 287)— New Cal. (Tur. 85-6)— Samoa (Tur. 291)— Greece
(Gro. iv, 430; ii, 359)— Fulbe (Bar. ii, 510)— Damaras (Roy. G. S., 1852,
159)— Peru (Onde. 152-3). § 452. Patagoniam (Falk. 123)— Chinook*
(Kane, 215)— Abipones (Dob. ii, I05)—Balonda (Liv. 2Q8)—£uk£i
14 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
(M'Cull. xxvii, 58) — American Indians (Morg. 341) — Britain (Burt
ii, 72; Mart. "Hist." i, 343)— Mexicans (Zur. — )— Peru (Garc. bk.
iv, ch. 8, and bk. v, ch. 9)— Japanese (Dick. 305). § 454. Fuegians
([Hawk.] " Hawkesworth's Voyages," ii, p. 58) — Coroados (Spix. ii, 244).
§ 455. Bodo and Dhimals (Hodg. 158)—Lepchas (Eth. Soc. "Jour."
N. S. i, U^—Arafuras (ref. lost). § 456. N. A. Indians (Kane,
2U-5—Nootkas (Bane, i, 195)— Fern Pax (Xim. 202-3)— Honduras (Her.
iv, \my-Dyaks (St. John — ). § 457. Neiv Zealanders (Thorn, i, 148)
—Sandwich Islands (Ell. "Tour" 397)— Fiji (Ersk. —~)—Scot. (Maine,
"E. I.," 133)— British (Pear, i, YZ)— English (Stubbs, ii, 493)— Scotland
(Innes, "Mid. Ages," 141-2). § 458. Egypt (Shar. i, 189; Ken. ii,
42)— Rome (Mom. i, 95)— Germans (Stubbs,' i, 34)— English (Kern, i,
69; Hall. "M. A." ii, 295)— Egyptians (Wilk. i, 150, note)— Roman
(Coul., Revue, xcix, 246)— England (Hall. "M. A." ch. ii, pt. 1 ; Ree.
i, 34-6). § 459. Danish (Maine, "E. I." 84-5)— Med. Eur. (Free.
"N. C." i, 96-7). §460. Fijians (See. 179; Wilkes, iii, 73-4)
—Sandwich Islanders (Ell. "Tour" 7-8)— Tahitians (Ell. "Pol. Res."
ii, 16)— Africa (Rea. 241). § 461. Sandwich Islanders (Ell. " Tour."
392-3). § 462. China (Gutz. ii, 305-6)— France (ref. lost; Warn, i,
549-50)— Hottentots (Thomp. ii, 30)—Bechuanas (Burch. ii, 347)—
Chinooks (Wai. iii, 338)— Albania (Boue, iii, 254)— Birth, &c. (Maine,
"E. H." 134)— France (A. L. F. ii, 645). § 464. Australians
(Sm. i, \03}—Chippewas, &c. (School. " Travels," 340-1)— Cent. Amer.
(Bane, i, W£)—Khonds (Macph. 32 and 27)— New Zea. (Thorn, i, 95}
—Tahitians (Ell. " P. R." ii, 3^—Madag. (Ell. " M." i, 378)—
Phoenicians (Mov. ii, pt. i, 541)— Greeks (Gro. ii, 92)— Pr. Ger. (Tac.
in Free. " Eng. Const." 17)— Iceland (Mall. 291-3)— Siviss( Free. " E. C."
pp. 1-7)— Old Eng. (Free. " E. C." 60). § 466. Greenlanders (Crantz,
i, 164-5)- Australians (Shirt, —}-Salish (ref. lost; Dom. ii, 343-4)—
Bodo and Dhimals (Hodg. 159) — Australians (Grey, ii, 240) — Snakes
(L. and C. W&) -Chinooks (L. and C. 443)— Dakotas (School. " I. T."
ii, 182)— Creeks (School. " I. T." i, 275')—Khirgiz (Wood, 3£&)—Ostyalcs
("Rev. Sib." ii, W$)-Nagas (But. UQ^-Kor. Hottentots (Thomp. ii,
30)— Kaffirs (Lich. i, 286-7). § 467. Tupis (Sou. i, 250)— Juangs (I)alt.
156)— Kor. Hottentots (Thomp. ii, 30)— Kaffirs (Shoo. 102)-—Damaras
(ref. lost1)— Araucanians (Smith, 243)— Dyaks (Broo. i, 129)— Malagasy
(Ell. " H. M." i, 146)— Savages (Lubb. 445). § 468. Arafuras (Kolft,
161)— Khirgiz (Mich.— ^—Sumatrans (Mars. ZlD—Madag. (Ell. " Hist
Madag." i, 377 >—East Afriains (Bur. " C. A." ii, 361)— javans (Raff, i,
274)— Sumatra (Mars. W^—Ashantee (Beech. 90-1). § 469. Congo
(Pink, xvi, 517)~Dahomans (Bur. i, 263). § 471. Nicobarians (Bast.
iii, 384)— Haidahs (Bane, i, lQS)—Californians (Bane, i, 348)—Navajos
(Bane. i. 508) — Angamies (As. S. B. xxiv, 650 — Lower Caltfornians (Bane.
i, 565)—Flatheads (Bane, i, 275)— Sound Indians (Bane, i, 217)— Lower
Californians (Bane, i, 565) — Chippewayans (Frank. 159) — Abipones (Dob.
ii, 102)— Bedouins (Ram. 9). § 472. Khonds (Camp, 50)— Cent.
India (Fors. 9) — Esquimaux (ref. lost)—Fuegians (Fitz. ii, 179) — Reck
Veddahs (Ten. ii, 440)— Dyaks (ref. lost)— Caribs (Edw. i, 49)— Bushmen
(Lich. ii, 194)— Tasmanians (Lloyd, 56; Dove, i, 253 )— Tapajos (Bates
%Z2-3)--Bedowns (Bur. " El Med." iii, 44:)— Greece (Gro. ii, 87)— Scot.
(Martin, M. 101) Snake Indians (L. and C. 306)— Creeks (School.
"I. T." v, 279)— Comanches (School. "I. T." ii, 130)—Coroadcs (Spix,
ii, 234)— Ostydks (" Rev. Sib." ii, 2Qty—Tacidlies (Bane, i, l23)—Tolewas
(Bane, i, 348) — Spokanes (ref. lost)— 6) — Navajos (Bane, i, 508)—
Dors (Heug. 195)— Arabs (Burck. i, 300)— Sumatra (Mars. 211),
§ 473. Australians (Eth. Soc. Trans., N. S., iii, 25Q)— Comanches
REFERENCES. 15
(School. "I. T."i, 23l)—Flatheads (Bane, i, 275)— Dyaks (Low, 209;
St. John —}—Caribs (Edw. i, 4ff)—Abipones (Dob. ii, 103)— Egypt
(Tay. 16) — Rome (Mom. i, 79) — Germans (Sohm i, 9)— French (Ranke, i,
75). § 474. Thlinkeets (Bane, iii, \48)—Fuegians (Fitz. ii, 178)—
Tasmanians (Bon. 175) — Haidahs (Bane, iii, 150) — Dakotas (School,
"I. T." iv, 495)— Amazulu (Call. 340, note 86)— Obbo (Bak. i, 318-9)—
Mexicans (Bane, iii, 295 ; Clav. bk. vii, ch. 7) — Chibchas (Pied. bk. ii,
ch. T)— Egypt (Brag, i, 406)— Jews (Sup. Rel. i, 117-18). §475. Egypt
(Shar. ii, 2)—Coroados (Spix, ii, 244-5)— Santals (Hunt. "Ann." i, 216-7)
—Khonds (Macph. 47). § 476. Haidahs (Bane, i, \Ql}—Fiji (See. 232)
—Tahitians (Ell. "P. R." ii, 346; Hawk, ii, 121)— Madagascar (Ell.
"H. M." i, 34Q-8)—Congoese (ref. lost)— Coast Negroes (ref. lost)—
I.iland Negroes (ref. lost) — Peru (Gom. ch. 124 ; Garc. bk. iv, ch. 9) —
Egypt (Wilk. i, 161 note ; 162 note)— Ceylon (Ten. i, 497 ; ii, 459)— New
Caledonia (ref. lost) — Madagascar (Ell. " H. M." i, 342) — Abyssinia
(Bru. iv, 488)—Timmanees (Wint. i, 124)— Kaffir (Arb. Uty—Aragon
(Hall, ii, 43-4). § 477. Amazulu (Call. 208 ; 390)— Xw/hs (As. S.B.
xxiv, 625)— Tahitians (Ell. "P.R."ii, 341)— Tonga (Mar. ii, 76)— Peru
(Garc. bk. i, ch. ^—Egyptians (Wilk. i, 321-2 and note; Brag, ii, 35-36)
—Aryans (Gro. i, 618)—' Chibchas (Sim. 261-2). § 478. Chinooks (L.
and C. 443 ; Wai. iii, 338) — Patagonians (Falk. 121)— Orinoco Indians
(ref. lost)— Borneo (Low, 183)— Sabines (ref. lost^ — Germans (Dunh. i,
IT)— Dyaks (Boy. 183)— Kalmucks (Pall, i, 527)— Araucanians (Thomps.
i, 405)— Kaffirs (Lich. i, 286)— Greeks (Glad, iii, 10-11)— Karens (As. S.B.
xxxvii, 131)— Congo (Bast. " Af. R." 58)— Yariba (Lan. ii, 223)— Ibu
(All. and T. i, 234)— Kukis (But. 91)— Greeks (Glad, iii, 51-2)— Rome
(ref. lost) — Europe (ref. lost) — French (Hall. ch. i) — Merovingians
(Wai. ii, 45-6, — )— France (Meray, 45; Boss, ii, 56; St. Sim. iii', 69).
§ 479. Zulus (Eth. Soc. " Trans." N. S., v, 291)— Bheels (Mai. " C. I." i,
551)— Loango(A*t. iii, 223 ; Pink, xvi, 511}— East Africa (Bur. "C. A."ii,
361)— Msambara(Kr&yi, 384 note) —Dahome (Bur. i, 226)— Malagasy (Ell.
" H. M." i, MX)— Sandwich Islands (Ell. " Tour," 401)— Siam (Bowr. i,
422-3)— Burmah (Sang. 58)— China (Gutz. ii, 251)— Japan (Ad. i, 11).
§48O. Tonga (Ersk. 126)— Gondar (Har. iii, 10, 3£)—Bhotan (Ren. 16-
17)— Japan (Ad. i, 74, 17; Tits. 223; Ad. i. 11, 70)— Merovingian (E<rin.
123-4). § 483. Arafuras (Kolff, IQl^—Todas (Eth. Soc. " Trans." N. S.,
vii, 241)— Bodo and Dhimdls (As. S.B. xviii, 708)— Papuans (Kolff. 6
Earl — ) — Bodo and D. (ref. lost) — Lepchas (Eth. Soc. "Jour." July,
186&)-Nagas(A&. S. B. xxiv, 608-9; ix, 950)— N. A. Indians (School.
"I. T."ii, l8S)—Comanches (School. " I. T." ii, 130; Bane, i, 509)—
Central America (Squi. "Nic." ii, 340-1)— jVa^as (As. S. B. xxiv, 607)—
Africa (Bur. " Abeo." i, 276). § 485. Greece (Toz. 284-5 ; Herm. 14 ;
Gro. ii, 103)— Scotland (Ske. iii, 323-4)— Crete (Cur. i, 182; 178-9)—
Corinth (Gro. iii, 2) — Sparta (Gro. ii, passim") — Latins (Mom. i, 30 ; 80 ;
87 ; 84). § 486. Venice (Sis. i, 300-313)— Netherlands (Gra. 10, 11, 20 ;
Mot. i, 38)—Suritz. (Vieus. 39)— Orisons (May, i, B55)—San. Mar. (Bent.
80815). §487. Ital. Repub. (Sis. [Lard.] 21 ; Sis. i. 371 ; Sis. [Lard.]
22 ; 83). § 488. Sparta (ref. lost ; Gro. ii, 90) -Rome (Mom. ii, 326)—
Ital. Repub. (Hall, i, 368; Sis. [Lard.] 280)— Holland (May, ii, 17-18)—
Berne (May i, SIS)— Venice (Sis. [Lard.] 121)— Greece (Gro. iii, 25;
Cur. i, 250)— Romans (Macch. iii, 429)— Ital. Repub. (Sis. [Lard.] 80)—
Athens (Gro. iii, 181-5) — Rome (Mom. bk. i., ch. 4, passim) — Italian
Repub. (May, i, 281-2). § 490. Samoa (Tur. '284)—Fulahs (L. and
O. ii, 85)—Mandingo (Park i, 15). § 491. Italian Rep. (Sis. [Lard.]
21-2)— Poles (Dunh. 278; 285)— Hungarians (LeVy, 165)— Germans
(Stubbs, i, G3)—Merov. (Rich. 119-20)— Appenzal (Lav. 65)— Uri (Free.
16 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
"E. C." 7)— Scandinavia (C. and W., i, 157-8; ref. lost)— Tatars (Gib.
ii, 16)— Sparta (Gro.— ). § 492. Kaffirs (Lich. i, 28Q)—Bechuanas
(Moff. 66) — Wanyamwezi (Bur. "C. A." ii, 362)— Ashantee (Beech. 91)
— Mexico (Zur. 106 ; Clav. bk. vii, ch. 13)— Kern Paz (Tor. bk. xi, ch. 20)
—Poland (Dunh. 278, 279-80)— Germans (Hall, ii, 93)— France (ref.
lost)— Madag. (Ell. " H. M." ii, 252)— Hebrews (1 Samuel, ch. xv>—
Tahitians (Ell. "P. R."ii, 489)— Mexicans (Saha. bk. viii, ch. M)— Egypt
(Wilk. i, 159)— France (Roth, 317-20). § 493. Denmark(G. and \V. i,
262-3)— France (Rich. ll9-2ff)—Madag. (Ell. " H. M.,"i, 378)— England
(Free. "E.G." 60). § 494. Egi/pt ( Wilk. i, 160 note)— Persia (Raw. iii,
223)— China (Will. i,324)~France (Boss. ii,56,113,v,4; Pul.i,8-9; St. Sim.
iii, 69)— Rome (Mom. i, 71-2 ; iii, 361)— Poland (Dunh. 282). § 496.
Scandinavia (C. and W., i, 1£8) — Hungary (Patt. i, 66; 253) — Rome
(Dur. iii, 376-8). §498. Greece (Gro. iii, 124-5; iv, 169)— Italy (Sis.
[L.] 23 ; 291) -Spain (Dunh. iv, 158)— England (Hume, ii, 54). § 499.
Spain (Hall, ii, 7 '-8)— France (ref. loaf)— Scotland (Burt. ii, 85). § 500.
Scandinavia (Mall. 291-5)— France (Mor. 379-80)— England (Stubbs, i,
448-9)— Holland (Mot. i,35)— Anglo-Sax. (Stubbs, i, 192)— Spain (Dunh.
iv, 158)— England (Stubbs, i, 450). § 501. England (Hume, i, 466-7 ;
Stubbs, i, 137)— France (Hall, i, 230)— Spain (Hall, ii, 25, 29)— France
(Dar. " Ad."ii, 57-8; Clam, ii, 3-4; Dar. " Ad." i, 78)— Scotland (Innea,
" Leg. An.," 116). § 502. France (Ord. ii, 201)— Hungary (Levy, 165)
— Scotland (lanes, "Leg. An.," 119)— England (Hume, — ). §504.
Egypt (Wilk. iii, 371)— Persia (Raw. iii, 221)— England (Kern, ii, 105-11)
—Hebrews (Ew. iii, 266-7)— Rome (Dur. iii, 175) — France (Gon. — ) —
Eggarahs (All. and T. i, 321)—Miztcca (Her. iii, 265). § 505. Normans
and Old English (Stubbs, i, 390)— Scot. (Innes, "Mid. Ages," 120-1)—
Russia (Fowl, i, 379)— France (Jer. ii, 158-9 ; Kit. iii, 210)— England
(Turn, vi, 132). § 508. Tahiti (Ell. "P. R." ii, —)— England (Kem. ii,
U2)— France (Gui. iii, 233-4)— Mexico, &c. (Zur. QQ-l^—Chibchas (Acos.
188-90)— Med. Europe (Maine, " V. C." 235-6). § 509. England (Free.
" N. C."i, 80; Fis. 301 ; Hall. "M. A."ch. viii). § 510. Feudal (Maine,
"E. I." 77)— France (Mau. cvii, 584)— Persians (Raw. iii, 418 ; 426)—
Rome (Dur. v, 83 4^— France (Thie. i, 365-6; Cher. " Hist." ii, 138-9)—
England (Hall. " C. H." ch. xii). § 511. Bedouins (Burck. "Notes " 5 ;
Pal. "Ency. Brit." ii, 249)— Irish (Maine, " E. I." 105-6)— Albania
(Bone", ii, 86 ; iii, 359)— England (You. 147). § 512. Mexico (Zur. 50 62)
—Russia ( Lav. 8, 9)— Teutons (Stubbs, i, 56 ; Coes. vi, 22 ; Kem. i, 56-7)
— Bakwains (Liv. 14) — Japan (Ale. ii, 241) — Franks (Kem. i, 238) —
England (Thor. i, 274 ; 386; 450)— Russia (Kou. 229). § 513. England
(Kem. i, 240-3; Stubbs,— ~)—Peru (Pres. 72)— Mexico (Clav. bk. vii, ch. 5 ;
Gom. —}— Egypt (Heer. ii, 139)— Greece (Herm. 10)— China (Will, i,
388) — India (Gho. passim} — Scandinavia (ref. lost ; Bren. Ixviii) —
England (Bi'Qn. Ixix-lxx.) § 516. Siam. (Loub. i. 237 )—Ashante (Beech.
l29)—Fulahs (L. and O. ii, 87)— Rome ( Mom. i. 99-100). § 517. Suevi
Stubbs, i, 15). § 518. Guaranis (Waitz, iii, 422)-- Nicaragua (Squi.
" Nic." ii, 342)— New Zealand (ref. lost) — Bedouins (Burck. — )—
Tahiti (Forst. 377)— Hebrews (2 Sam. xxi, lT)—Carotingian(W&L iv, 522)
—Japan (Ad. i, 15)— Peru (Pres. 35). § 519. Hottentots (Kol. i, 85)—
Malagasy (Ell "H. M."ii,253>— Chibchas(Sim. 269)— Rome(Coul. "C. A."
158)— Germans (Stubbs,!, 34)— Old England (Kem. i. 69)— France (Kit. i,
399 ; Froiss. i, 168)— Sparta (Gro. —~)—Rome (Mom. i, 98-9). § 520.
France (Ranke, i, 83). § 522. Chinooks (Waitz, iii, 338)— Arabs (Bur.
" El Med." iii, 47)— Italy (Sis. [L.] 90 )— France (Maine, Fort. Rev. 614)
—England (Ree, i, 153-4)— France (Gui. — ). § 523. Hottentots
(Kol. i, 291-6)— Greece (Gro. ii, 99-100)— Rome (Mom. i, 159)— Germans
REFERENCES. 1 7
ac. cap. xi, xii)— Danes (C. and W. i, 263)— -7mA (Les. xvii, 312)
524. Hebrews (Dent, xxi, 19) — Romans (Mom. i, 158) — France (Join.
0-11)— Carolingian (Mor. 379-80; Sohm, i, § \$)—Frieslanders (ref.
lost)— Holland (Lav. 282-3). § 525. Zulus (Arb. Hty—Eggarahs (All.
and T. i, 326)— Germans (Tac. c. 7)— Scandinavia (Grimm, i, 93) § 526,
Peril (Her. iv, 337)— Germany (Dunh. 1, 120)— France (Bay. i, 70-1)—
Scotland (Innes, "L. A." 221)— England (Stubbs, i, 443, 673)— drawee
(HaL~, i, 239). § 527. Bedouins ("Ram. in Syria," 9)— Mexicans
(I)ur. i, 216)— Athens (Cur. ii, 450)— France and Germany (Black, hi,
41)_ }'rance (Due. 11-12; A. L. F., v, 346-7; Dar. " Ad." — )— England
(Ms. 238 ; Stubbs, ii, 292). § 528. Court, &c. (Maine, "E. I. "289).
§ 529. Sandwich L (Ell. 399)— Bechuanas (ref. lost)— Karens (As. S. B.
xxxvii, 131)— France (Kocnigs. 186). § 53O. Scandinavia (Mall. 117)
—Egypt (Rec. ii, 11 ; xii, 48)— Peru (Santa C. 107 ; Gar. bk. i, ch. 23)—
Tahiiians (Ell. "P.R."ii, 235)— Todas (Metz, 17-18)-tfe&m(w(2Sam. v.
22-25)— India (Maine, "A. L." 18)— Greece (Gro. ii, 111-2; Herm. 48)—
France (Hinc. ii, 201). § 531. Assyrians (Lay. ii, 473-4)— Greeks (Tie.
217 ; Coul. 221)-^.y^(Wilk. i, 164). § 532. Zulus (Arb. 161 note)—
Peru (ref. lost) — Mexicans (Tern, x, 78)— Japan (ref. lost) — France
(Greg. bk. vii, ch. 21)— Peruvians (Garc. bk. ii. ch. 12)— Japan (Ale. i,
63)— Rome (Mom. i, 159)— Salic (Gui. i, 464)— Scotland (Innes, "Mid.
Ages," 197)— England (Stubbs, i, 211). § 533. Chippewayans (School.
"I.T." v, l1T)—Shoshones(Ba,nc. i, 435)— Haidahs (Bane, i', 168)— Sand
wich L (Ell. "Tour, "400)— Greece (Gro. ii, 107, 110, 129)— Rome (Maine,
"A. L." 372; Mom. ii, 130)— Basutos (Arb. 37)— Abyssinia (Par. ii,
204-5)— Sumatra (Mars. 249)— Dakotas (School. "I. T." ii, 185)—^.
Americans (Kane, 115) — Dakotas (Morg. 331) — Araucanians (Thomps. i,
405). § 536. Bushmen (Lich. ii, 194)— Chippewayans Bane, i, 118)—
Arawaks (Roy. G. S. ii,231). § 537. Ahts (Bane, i, lQl)—Comanches
(School. "I. T." i, 232)— Brazilians (Roy. G. S. ii, 195-6)— Chippewayans
(School. "I. T." v, 177)— Bedouins (ref. lost). § 538. Rechabites,<L-c.
(Ew.iv, 79-80; Kue.i, 181-2)— Dakotas (School. "I. T."ii, 185)— Comanches
(School. "I. T." ii, l$l*)—Iroquois (Morg. 326)— Bechuanas (Eurch. ii,531)
—Samaras (And. 114-15) — Kafirs (Shoot. 16)— Koosas (Lich. i, 271)—
New Zealanders (Thorn, i, 96) — Sumatrans (Mars. 244-5) — Mexicans (Sart.
QSy—Damaras (And. 147)— Todas (Marsh. 206)— Congo (Pink. xvi,168)—
Slavs (Lav. 185) — Siuiss (Lav. 82) — Hebrews (Mayer, i, 362 note) — Some
(Mom. i, 160, 193)— Teutons (Stubbs, i, 56). § 539. Drenthe (Lav. 282)
—Ardennes (Lav. 301) — Lombardy (Lav. 215)— drawee (Lav. 212)—
Abyssinia (Bruce, iv,462)— Kongo (Ast. iii,258) — Mexico (Tern, x, 253-4)
—Iceland (Mall. 289)— Swiss (Lav. 83). § 540. Slavs (Lav. 189; 194-5)
—Lombardy (Lav. 216). § 542. Dakotas (School. "I.T. " iv, 69)—Abi-
pones (Dob. ii, \Q^—Patagonians (Falk. 123)— Greece (Gro. ii, 84 ; 85)—
Germans (Tac. xv) — England (Dyer 3) — Guaranis (Wai. iii, 422) — Rome
(Mom. — ). § 543. Loango (Pink, xvi, 51T)—Tongans (Mar. i, 231
note) — Cashmere (Drew 68-70) — Kaffirs (Shoot. 104) — Sandwich Islands
(Ell. "Tour," 292)— Mexico (Zur. 250-1)— Yucatan (Landa § xx)— Guate
mala, etc. (Zur. 407)— Madagascar (Ell. " M." i, 316)- -Fiji (See. 232)—
Tahiti (E1L "P. R."ii, 361). § 544. England (Stubbs ii, 612-3). § 545.
Quango, and Balonda (Liv. 296, m^—Bhils (Mai. i, "C. I. "551-2;
185)— Mexico (Clav. bk. vii, ch. 37)— Greece (Glad, iii, 62; Pot. 90)—
England (Ling, iii, 7). § 557. France (Dar. " Cl. Ag." 537). § 558.
Americans (Hearne, 151) — Dahomey (Bur. i, 220-5 ; 226 ; Dalz. 175 ; Bur.
i, 52. note)— Peru (Gar. bk. ii, chap, xv ; bk. vi, chap, viii ; bk. v, chap.
xi)— Egypt (Shar. i, 188 ; Brag, i, 51 ; Shar. i, 182)— Sparta (Gro. vol.
ii, pt. ii, chap, vi)— Russia (Gust, ii, 2 ; Wai. 289; Cust.— ; Bell, ii, 237).
18 POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
§ 559. Rome (Dur. iii, 155-60 ; iii, 183-7, 9 ; iii, 173-4 ; iii, 172-3, ; iii, 176)
— Italy (Sis. [Lard.] 8-9). § 560. Greeks (Gro. ii, 88)— Japan (Mit. i,
32-3)— France (Corn, xxvii (1873), 72)— Montenegro (Boue", ii, 86)—
Dahomey (For. i, 20)— Sparta (Thirl, i, 329)— Merovingian (Amp. ii, 305;
reg. lost)— Dahomey (Bur. ii, 248)— Japan (M. arid C., 34)— Egypt
(Wilk. i, 189)— Persia (Raw. iii, 242)—Araucanians (Thomps. i, 406) —
Fiji (Ersk. 464) —Dahomey (Dalz. 69) —Egypt (Brag, i, 53). § 573. Toclas
£Shortt, pt. i, 9)— Pueblos (Bane, i, 546) — Karens (Gov. Stat. 61;
j»fcM. 81^— Lepchas (Hook, i, 129-30; Eth. Soc. "Jour." N. S. i, 150-1)
—Santdls (Hunt. "Ann." — ; "Stat." xiv, 33Q)—Shervarog (Shortt,
pt. ii, 7; 42)— Todas (Shortt, pt. i, 7-9; Hark. \Q-\1} -Arafuras (Kolff.
161-3) — England (Hall., chap, viii) — France (Lev. ii, 48)-^-England
(Free. " Sk." 232; Bage. 281)— France (Taine, passim) — England
(Mart. "Intro." 17; Buck. vol. ii, ch. 5; Pike, ii, 574). §574.
Bode and D. (As. S. B. xviii, 745-6)— Lepchas (Eth. Soc. "Jour." N. S. i,
152)— Santdl (Hunt. " Ann." i, 209; As. S.B. xx, 554)— Jakuns (Fav.
ii, 266-7)— Bode and D. (As. S.B. xviii, 745) -NeilgherryH. (Ouch. 69)—
Lepchas (Eth. Soc. "Jour." N. S. i, lofy—Jakutns (Fav. ii, 266)—
Arafuras (Kolff. 161-3)— Lepchas (Eth. Soc. "Jour." N. S. i, 150-1;
Hook, i, 176)— Santdls (Hunt, " Ann."i, 217) -Hos (Dalt. 206)— Todas
(Shortt, pt. i, Y)—ShervaroyH. (Shortt, — ) — Jakuns (Fav. ii, 266) —
Malacca (Jukes, 219-20)— Bodo and D. (As. S.B. xviii, W)—Santdl
(Hunt. "Ann." i, 209-10)— Lepchas ( Hook, i, 176, 129)— Jakuns (Fav. ii,
266)— Arafuras (Kolff. 163-4)— Lepchas (Hook, i, 134)— Santdls (Hunt.
"Ann." 208~)—Bodo and Dhimals (As. S.B. xviii, 7Q8)—Santd,l (Hunt, i,
ZYiy—Bodo and Dhimals (As. S.B. xviii, 744)— Todas (Eth, Soc,
" Trans." vii, 254).
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THE SYNTHETIC PHILOSOPHY
OF
HERBERT SPENCER
FIRST PRINCIPLES.
1 vol. $2.00.
CONTENTS.
PART I. — THE UNKNOWABLE.
1. Religion and Science. 4. The Relativity of all KnowU
2. Ultimate Religious Ideas. edge.
3. Ultimate Scientific Ideas. 5. The Reconciliation.
PART II. — THE KNOWABLE.
1. Philosophy defined. 13. Simple and Compound Evolu-
2. The Data of Philosophy. tion.
8. Space, Time, Matter, Motion, 14. The Law of Evolution.
and Force. 15. The Law of Evolution (con-
4. The Indestructibility of Matter. tinued).
5. The Continuity of Motion. 16. The Law of Evolution (con-
6. The Persistence of Force tinued).
7. The Persistence of Relations 17. The Law of Evolution (con-
among Forces. eluded).
8. The Transformation and Equiv- 18. The Interpretation of Evolution.
alencc of Forces. 19. The Instability of the Homoge-
9. The Direction of Motion. neous.
10. The Rhythm of Motion. 20. The Multiplication of Effects.
11. Recapitulation, Criticism, and 21. Segregation.
Recommencement. 22. Equilibration.
12. Evolution and Dissolution. 28. Dissolution.
24. Summary and Conclusion.
THE PRINCIPLES OF BIOLOGY.
2 vols. $4.00.
CONTENTS OF VOL. I.
PART I. — THE DATA OF BIOLOGY.
1. Organic Matter. 4. Proximate Definition of Life.
2. The Action of Forces on Or- 5. The Correspondence between
game Matter. . Life and its Circumstances.
3. The Reactions of Organic Mat- 6. The Degree of Life varies as the
tcr on Forces. Degree of Correspondence.
7. The Scope of Biology.
SPENCEK'S SYNTHETIC PHILOSOPHY.
PART II. — THE INDUCTIONS OF BIOLOGY.
1. Growth.
2. Development.
3. Function.
4. Waste and Repair.
6. Adaptation.
6. Individuality.
7. Genesis.
8. Heredity.
9. Variation.
10. Genesis, Heredity, and Varia
tion.
11. Classification.
12. Distribution.
PART III. — THE EVOLUTION OP LIFE.
1. Preliminary.
2. General Aspects of the Special-
Creation Hypothesis.
3. General Aspects of the Evolu
tion Hypothesis.
4. The Arguments from Classifica
tion.
5. The Arguments from Embryol
ogy.
6. The Arguments from Morphol
ogy.
7. The Arguments from Distribu
tion.
8. How is Organic Evolution
caused ?
9. External Factors.
10. Internal Factors.
11. Direct Equilibration.
12. Indirect Equilibration.
13. The Cooperation of the Factors.
14. The Convergence of the Evi
dences.
CONTENTS OF VOL. II.
PART IV. — MORPHOLOGICAL DEVELOPMENT.
1. The Problems of Morphology.
2. The Morphological Composition
of Plants.
3. The Morphological Composition
of Plants (continued).
4. The Morphological Composition
of Animals.
6. The Morphological Composition
of Animals (continued).
6. Morphological Differentiation in
Plants.
7. The General Shapes of Plants.
8. The Shapes of Branches.
9. The Shapes of Leaves.
10. The Shapes of Flowers.
11. The Shapes of Vegetal Cells.
12. Changes of Shape otherwise
caused.
13. Morphological Differentiation in
Animals.
14. The General Shapes of Animals.
1 5. The Shapes of Vertebrate Skel e-
tons.
16. The Shapes of Animal Cells.
17. Summary of Morphological De
velopment.
PART V. — PHYSIOLOGICAL DEVELOPMENT.
1. The Problems of Physiology.
2. Differentiations among the Out
er and Inner Tissues of Plants.
3. Differentiations among the Out
er Tissues of Plants.
4. Differentiations among the In
ner Tissues of Plants.
5. Physiological Integration in
Plants.
6. Differentiations between the
Outer and Inner Tissues of
Animals.
7. Differentiations among the Out
er Tissues of Animals.
8. Differentiations among the In
ner Tissues of Animals.
9. Physiological Integration in Ani
mals.
10. Summary of Physiological Development.
SPENCER'S SYNTHETIC PHILOSOPHY. 3
PART VI. — LAWS OP MULTIPLICATION.
1. The Factors. 8. Antagonism between Expendi-
2. A priori Principle. ture and Genesis.
3. Obverse a pr, iori Principle. 9. Coincidence between High Nu-
4. Difficulties of Inductive Verifi- trition and Genesis.
cation. 10. Specialties of these Rela*
6. Antagonism between Growth tions.
and Asexual Genesis. 11. Interpretation and Qualifica-
6, Antagonism between Growth tion.
and Sexual Genesis. 12. Multiplication of the Human
7. Antagonism between Develop- Race.
ment and Genesis, Asexual 13. Human Evolution in the Fu-
and Sexual. ture.
APPENDIX.
A Criticism on Professor Owen's The- On Circulation and the Formation
ory of the Vertebrate Skeleton. of Wood in Plants.
THE PRINCIPLES OF PSYCHOLOGY.
2 vols. $4.00.
CONTENTS OF VOL. L
PART I. — THE DATA OP PSYCHOLOGY.
1. The Nervous System. 4. The Conditions essential to Ner-
2. The Structure of the Nervous vous Action.
System. 5. Nervous Stimulation and Ner-
3. The Functions of the Nervous vous Discharge.
System. 6. ^Estho-Physiology.
PART II. — THE INDUCTIONS OF PSYCHOLOGY.
1. The Substance of Mind. 6. The Revivability of Relations
2. The Composition of Mind. between Feelings.
3. The Relativity of Feelings. 7. The Associability of Feelings.
4. The Relativity of Relations be- 8. The Associability of Relations
tween Feelings. between Feelings.
5. The Revivability of Feelings. 9. Pleasures and Pains.
PART III. — GENERAL SYNTHESIS.
1 Life and Mind as Correspon- 6. The Correspondence as increas-
dence. ing in Specialty.
2. The Correspondence as Direct 7. The Correspondence as increas-
and Homogeneous. ing in Generality.
3. The Correspondence as Direct 8. The Correspondence as increas-
but Heterogeneous. ing in Complexity.
4. The Correspondence as extend- 9. The Coordination of Correspon.
ing in Space. dences.
6. The Correspondence as extend- 10. The Integration of Correspon*
ing in Time. dences.
11. The Correspondences in their Totality.
SPENCER'S SYNTHETIC PHILOSOPHY,
PART IV. — SPECIAL SYNTHESIS.
1. The Nature of Intelligence.
2. The Law of Intelligence.
3. The Growth of Intelligence.
4. Reflex Action.
5. Instinct.
6. Memory.
7. Reason.
8. The Feelings.
The Will.
PART V. — PHYSICAL SYNTHESIS.
1. A Further Interpretation need
ed.
2. The Genesis of Nerves.
3. The Genesis of Simple Nervous
Systems.
4. The Genesis of Compound Ner
vous Systems.
6. The Genesis of Doubly Com
pound Nervous Systems.
6. Functions as related to these
Structures.
7. Physical Laws as thus inter
preted.
8. Evidence from Normal Varia
tions.
9. Evidence from Abnormal Va
riations.
10. Results.
APPENDIX.
On the Action of Anaesthetics and Narcotics.
CONTENTS OF VOL. II.
PART VI. — SPECIAL ANALYSIS.
1. Limitation of the Subject.
2. Compound Quantitative Reason
ing.
3. Compound Quantitative Reason
ing (continued).
4. Imperfect and Simple Quantita
tive Reasoning.
5. Quantitative Reasoning in gen
eral.
6. Perfect Qualitative Reasoning.
7. Imperfect Qualitative Reason
ing.
8. Reasoning in general.
9. Classification, Naming, and Rec
ognition.
10. The Perception of Special Ob
jects.
11. The Perception of Body as pre
senting Dynamical, Statico-
Dynamical, and Statical Attri
butes.
12. The Perception of Body as pre
senting Statico-Dynamical and
Statical Attributes.
13. The Perception of Body as
presenting Statical Attri
butes.
14. The Perception of Space.
15. The Perception of Time.
16. The Perception of Motion.
17. The Perception of Resist
ance.
18. Perception in general.
19. The Relations of Similarity and
Dissimilarity.
20. The Relations of Cointension
and Non-Cointension.
21. The Relations of Coextension
and Non-Coextension.
22. The Relations of Coexistence
and Non-Coexistence.
23. The Relations of Connature and
Non-Connature.
24. The Relations of Likeness and
Unlikeness.
25. The Relation of Sequence.
26. Consciousness in general.
27. Results.
PART VII. — GENERAL ANALYSIS.
1. The Final Question. 11. The Universal Postulate.
2. The Assumption of Metaphysi- 12. The Test of Relative Validity.
cians. 13. Its Corollaries.
3. The Words of Metaphysicians. 14. Positive Justification of Real-
4. The Reasonings of Metaphysi- ism.
cians. [ism. 15. The Dynamics of Consciousness.
5. Negative Justification of Real- 16. Partial Differentiation of Sub-
6. The Argument from Priority. ject and Object.
7. The Argument from Simplicity. 17. Completed Differentiation of
8. The Argument from Distinct- Subject and Object.
9. A Criterion wanted. [ness. 18. Developed Conception of the
10. Propositions qualitatively dis- Object.
tinguished. 19. Transfigured Realism.
PART VIII. — CONGRUITIES.
1. Preliminary. 4. Co-ordination of Special Analy-
2. Co-ordination of Data and In- ses.
ductions. 5. Co-ordination of General Analy-
3. Co-ordination of Syntheses. ses.
6. Final Comparison.
PART IX. — COROLLARIES.
1. Special Psychology. 5. Sociality and Sympathy.
2. Classification. 6. Egoistic Sentiments.
3. Development of Conceptions. 7. Ego- Altruistic Sentiments.
4. Language of the Emotions. 8. Altruistic Sentiments.
9. ^Esthetic Sentiments.
THE PRINCIPLES OF SOCIOLOGY.
Three Vols. $6.00.
CONTENTS OF VOLUME I.
PART I. — THE DATA OP SOCIOLOGY.
1. Super-Organic Evolution. 9. The Ideas of the Animate and
2. The Factors of Social Phenom- the Inanimate.
ena. 10. The Ideas of Sleep and Dreams.
3. Original External Factors. 11. The Ideas of Swoon, Apoplexy,
4. Original Internal Factors. Catalepsy, Ecstasy, and other
5. The Primitive Man — Physical. Forms of Insensibility.
6. The Primitive Man — Emotional. 12. The Ideas of Death and Resur-
7. The Primitive Man — Intellect- rection.
ual. 13. The Ideas of Souls, Ghosts,
8. Primitive Ideas. Spirits, Demons.
SPENCEK'S SYNTHETIC PHILOSOPHY.
PART I. — THE DATA OF SOCIOLOGY. — (Continued.)
14. The Ideas of Another Life. Altars ; Sacrifice, Fasting, and
15. The Ideas of Another World. Propitiation; Praise, Prayer.
16. The Ideas of Supernatural 20. .Ancestor- Worship in general.
Agents. 21. Idol Worship and Fetich- Wor-
17. Supernatural Agents as causing ship.
Epilepsy and Convulsive Ac- 22. Animal-Worship,
tions, Delirium and Insanity, 23. Plant-Worship.
Disease and Death. 24. Nature- Worship.
18. Inspiration, Divination, Exor- 25. Deities.
cisra, and Sorcery. 26. The Primitive Theory of Things.
19. Sacred Places, Temples, and 27. The Scope of Sociology.
PART II. — THE INDUCTIONS OF SOCIOLOGY.
1. What is a Society? 7. The Sustaining System.
2. A Society is an Organism. 8. The Distributing System.
3. Social Growth. 9. The Regulating System.
4. Social Structures. 10. Social Types and Constitutions.
5. Social Functions. 11. Social Metamorphoses.
6. Systems of Organs. 12. Qualifications and Summary.
PART III. — DOMESTIC INSTITUTIONS.
1. The Maintenance of Species. 6. Polyandry.
2. The Diverse Interests of the 7. Polygyny.
Species, of the Parents, and 8. Monogamy,
of the Offspring. 9. The Family.
3. Primitive Relations of the Sexes. 10. The Status of Women.
4. Exogamy and Endogamy. 11. The Status of Children.
5. Promiscuity. 12. Domestic Retrospect and Pros
pect.
CONTENTS OF VOLUME II.
PART IV. — CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.
1 Ceremony in general. 7. Forms of Address.
2. Trophies. 8. Titles.
3. Mutilations. 9. Badges and Costumes.
4. Presents. 10. Further Class-Distinctions.
5. Visits. 11. Fashion.
6. Obeisances. 12. Ceremonial Retrospect and
Prospect
PART V. — POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.
1. Preliminary. 3. Political Integration.
2. Political Organization in gen- 4. Political Differentiation.
eral. 5. Political Forms and Forces.
SPENCER'S SYNTHETIC PHILOSOPHY.
PART V. — POLITICAL
6. Political Heads— Chiefs,
Kings, etc.
7. Compound Political Heads.
8. Consultative Bodies.
9. Representative Bodies.
10. Ministries.
11. Local Governing Agencies.
12. Military Systems.
INSTITUTIONS. — ( Continued.)
13. Judicial and Executive Systems.
14. Laws.
15. Property.
16. Revenue.
17. The Militant Type of Society.
18. The Industrial Type of Society.
19. Political Retrospect and Pros
pect.
CONTENTS OF VOLUME HI.
PART VI. — ECCLESIASTICAL INSTITUTIONS.
1. The Religious Idea.
2. Medicine- Men and Priests.
3. Priestly Duties of Descendants.
4. Eldest Male Descendants as
Quasi-Priests.
5. The Ruler as Priest.
6. The Rise of a Priesthood.
7. Polytheistic and Monotheistic
Priesthoods.
8. Ecclesiastical Hierarchies.
9. An Ecclesiastical System as a
Social Bond.
10. The Military Functions of
Priests.
11. The Civil Functions of Priests.
12. Church and State.
13. Non-conformity.
14. The Moral Influences of Priest
hoods.
15. Ecclesiastical Retrospect and
Prospect.
16. Religious Retrospect and Pros
pect.
PART VII. — PROFESSIONAL INSTITUTIONS.
1. Professions in General.
2. Physician and Surgeon.
3. Dancer and Musician.
4. Orator and Poet, Actor and
Dramatist.
5. Biographer, Historian, and Man
of Letters.
6. Man of Science and Philosopher.
7. Judge and Lawyer.
8. Teacher.
9. Architect.
10. Sculptor.
11. Painter.
12. Evolution of the Professions.
PART VIII. — INDUSTRIAL INSTITUTIONS.
1. Introductory.
2. Specialization of Functions and
Division of Labor.
3. Acquisition and Production.
4. Auxiliary Production.
6. Distribution.
6. Auxiliary Distribution.
7. Exchange.
8. Auxiliary Exchange.
9. Interdependence and Integra
tion.
10. The Regulation of Labor.
11. Paternal Regulation.
12. Patriarchal Regulation.
13. Communal Regulation.
14. Gild Regulation.
15. Slavery.
16. Serfdom.
17. Free Labor and Contract.
18. Compound Free Labor.
19. Compound Capital.
20. Trade-Unionism.
21. Co-operation.
22. Socialism.
23. The Near Future.
21. Conclusion.
THE PRINCIPLES OF ETHICS.
2 vols. $4.00.
CONTENTS OF VOLUME I.
PART I. — THE DATA OP ETHICS.
1. Conduct in General. 10. Relativity of Pains and
2. The Evolution of Conduct. Pleasures.
3. Good and Bad Conduct. 11. Egoism versus Altruism.
4. Ways of judging Conduct. 12. Altruism versus Egoism.
6. The Physical View. 13. Trial and Compromise.
6. The Biological View. 14. Conciliation.
7. The Psychological View. 15. Absolute Ethics and Relative
8. The Sociological View. Ethics.
9. Criticisms and Explanations. 16. The Scope of Ethics.
Appendix to Part I. — The Conciliation.
PART II. — THE INDUCTIONS OF ETHICS.
1. The Confusion of Ethical Thought. 8. Humanity.
2. What Ideas and Sentiments are 9. Veracity.
3. Aggression. [Ethical. 10. Obedience.
4. Robbery. 11. Industry.
5. Revenge. 12. Temperance.
6. Justice. 13. Chastity.
7. Generosity. 14. Summary of Inductions.
PART III. — THE ETHICS OF INDIVIDUAL LIFE.
1. Introductory. 6. Culture.
2. Activity. 7. Amusements.
3. Rest. 8. Marriage.
4. Nutrition. 9. Parenthood.
5. Stimulation. 10. General Conclusions.
CONTENTS OF VOLUME II.
PART IV. — THE ETHICS OF SOCIAL LIFE: JUSTICE.
1. Animal Ethics. 11. The Rights to the Uses of Nat-
2. Sub-Human Justice. ural Media.
3. Human Justice. 12. The Right of Property.
4. The Sentiment of Justice. 13. The Right of Incorporeal Prop-
5. The Idea of Justice. erty.
6. The Formula of Justice. 14. The Rights of Gift and Bequest.
7. The Authority of this Formula. 15. The Rights of Free Exchange
8. Its Corollaries. and Free Contract.
9. The Right to Physical Integrity. 16. The Right of Free Industry.
10. The Rights to Free Motion and 17. The Rights of Free Belief and
Locomotion. Worship.
SPENCER'S SYNTHETIC PHILOSOPHY. 9
PART IV. — THE ETHICS OF SOCIAL LIFE: JUSTICE. — (Continued.)
18. The Rights of Free Speech and 22. Political Rights— so called.
Publication. 23. The Nature of the State.
19. A Retrospect with an Addition. 24. The Constitution of the State.
20. The Rights of Women. 25. The Duties of the State.
21. The Rights of Children. 26 to 29. The Limits of State-Duties.
PART V. — THE ETHICS OF SOCIAL LIFE : NEGATIVE BENEFICENCE.
1 . Kinds of Altruism. 6. Restraints on Displays of Ability.
2. Restraints on Free Competition. 6. Restraints on Blame.
3. Restraints on Free Contract. 7. Restraints on Praise.
4. Restraints on Undeserved Pay- 8. The Ultimate Sanctions.
ments.
PART VI. — THE ETHICS OF SOCIAL LIFE: POSITIVE BENEFICENCE.
1. Marital Beneficence. 6. Pecuniary Aid to Relatives and
2. Parental Beneficence. Friends.
3. Filial Beneficence. 7. Relief of the Poor.
4. Aiding the Sick and the Injured. 8. Social Beneficence.
5. Succour to the Ill-Used and the 9. Political Beneficence.
Endangered. 10. Beneficence at Large.
APPENDICES. — A. The Kantian Idea of Rights. B. The Land Question.
C. The Moral Motive. D. Conscience in Animals.
SETS OF SPENCER'S WORKS.
16 vols. 12mo.
Comprising the SYNTHETIC PHILOSOPHY, 10 vols. ; ESSAYS, 3 vols. ; SOCIAL
STATICS, STUDY OF SOCIOLOGY, and EDUCATION.
Cloth, uniform style $30 00
Extra cloth, gilt top, paper titles - - - 35 00
Half calf 58 00
THE DESCRIPTIVE SOCIOLOGY.
A cyclopaedia of social facts classified and tabulated for cbnvenient
study. Eight parts, royal folio. Price of first seven parts, each, 84.00 ;
Part VIII, double number, $7.00 : 1. English. 2. Mexicans, Central
Americans, Chibchas, and Peruvians. 3. Lowest Races, Negrito Races,
and Malayo-Polynesian Races. 4. African Races. 5. Asiatic Races.
6. American Races. 7. Hebrews and Phoenicians. 8. French.
New York : D. APPLETON & CO., 72 Fifth Avenue.
D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS.
NEW EDITION OF PROF. HUXLEY'S ESSAYS.
/COLLECTED ESSA VS. By THOMAS H. HUXLEY.
^** New complete edition, with revisions, the Essays being grouped
according to general subject. In nine volumes, a new Intro
duction accompanying each volume. I2mo. Cloth, $1.25 per
volume.
VOL. I.— METHOD AND RESULTS.
VOL. II.— DARWINIANA.
VOL. III.— SCIENCE AND EDUCATION.
VOL. IV.— SCIENCE AND HEBREW TRADITION.
VOL. V.— SCIENCE AND CHRISTIAN TRADITION.
VOL. VI.— HUME.
VOL. VII.— MAN'S PLACE IN NATURE.
VOL. VIII.— DISCOURSES, BIOLOGICAL AND GEOLOGICAL.
VOL. IX.— EVOLUTION AND ETHICS, AND OTHER ESSAYS.
" Mr. Huxley has covered a vast variety of topics during the last quarter of a
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on a large number of topics." — New York Herald.
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" It was inevitable that his essays should be called for in a completed form, and they
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will be widely read, and gives his scientific 'work a permanent form"— Boston Herald.
"A man whose brilliancy is so constant as that of Prof. Huxley will always com
mand readers ; and the utterances which are here collected are not the least in weight
and luminous beauty of those with which the author has long delighted the reading
world." — Philadelphia Press.
"The connected arrangement of the essays which their reissue permits brings into
fuller relief Mr. Huxley's masterly powers of exposition. Sweeping the subject-matter
clear of all logomachies, he lets the light of common day fall upon it. He shows that
the place of hypothesis in science, as the starting point of verification of the phenomena
to be explained, is but an extension of the assumptions which underlie actions in every
day affairs; and that the method of scientific investigation is only the method which
rules the ordinary business of life." — London Chronicle.
New York: D. APPLETON fc CO., 72 Fifth Avenue.
D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS.
T\EGENERATION. By Professor MAX NORDAU.
*-r Translated from the second edition of the German work. 8vo.
Cloth, $3.50.
"A powerful, trenchant, savage attack on all the leading literary and artistic idols ot
the time by a man of great intellectual power, immense range of knowledge, and the
possessor of a lucid style rare among German writers, and becoming rarer everywhere,
owing to the very influences which Nordau attacks with such unsparing energy, such
( eager hatred." — London Chronicle.
" The wit and learning, the literary skill and the scientific method, the righteous in
dignation, and the ungoverned prejudice displayed in Herr Max Nordau's treatise on
' Degeneration ' attracted to it, on its first appearance in Germany, an attention that
was partly admiring and partly astonished." — London Standard.
" Let us say at once that the English-reading public should be grateful for an
English rendering of Max Nordau's polemic. It will provide society with a subject
that may last as long as the present Government. . . . We read the pages without
finding one dull, sometimes in reluctant agreement, sometimes with amused content,
sometimes with angry indignation." — London Saturday Review.
"Herr Nordau's book fills a void, not merely in the systems of Lombroso, as he
says, but in all existing systems of English and American criticism with which we are
acquainted. It is not literary criticism, pure and simple, though it is not lacking in
literary qualities of a high order, but it is something which has long been needed, for
of literary criticism, so called, good, bad, and indifferent, there is always an abundance;
but it is scientific criticism— the penetration to and the interpretation of the spirit
within the letter, the apprehension of motives as well as means, and the comprehension
of temporal effects as well as final results, its explanation, classification, and largely
condemnation, for it is not a healthy condition which he has studied, but its absence,
its loss ; it is degeneration. . . . He has written a great book, which every thoughtful
lover of art and literature and every serious student of sociology and morality should
read carefully and ponder slowly and wisely." — Richard Henry Stoddard, in The
Mail and Express.
" The book is one of more than ordinary interest. Nothing just like it has ever
been written. Agree or disagree with its conclusions, wholly or in part, no one can
Fail to recognize the force of its argument and the timeliness of its injunctions."— Chi
cago Evening Post.
" A most absorbing book, and is likely to displace ' Trilby' as a subject of popular
discussion." — Chicago Tribune.
" A ponderous volume whose every page is full of interest. So full is it in detail, so
scientific in its method, so irresistible in its invitation to controversy, that it must get
the worlds of arts and letters by the ears." — New York Recorder.
" The intense interest currently shown in the subject treated in the book, the original
ideas it offers, and the imperturbable spirit of the scientific investigator which animates
and sustains the author, will unquestionably command for it in this country the atten
tion it has received abroad ; and it may be safely predicted that ' Degeneration '
already known here in literary circles, is destined to attain an immediate and widespread
popularity . "—Philadelphia Telegraph .
"This fascinating and most suggestive book gives a picture of the aesthetic mani
festations of the times, drawn with rare adroitness, vigor, and command of satire, and
it will be found to hold a place which has not been occupied." — Cincinnati Commercial-
Gazette.
" Certain to arouse a storm of discussion." — Philadelphia Ledger.
"The interest which 'Degeneration ' causes in the reader is intense." — New York
Times.
New York : D. APPLETON & CO., 72 Fifth Avenue.
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ENIUS AND DEGENERATION. A Study in
Psychology. By Dr. WILLIAM HIRSCH. Translated from the
second edition of the German work. Uniform with " Degen
eration." Large Svo. Cloth, $3.50.
Dr. Hirsch's acute and suggestive study of modern tendencies was
begun before "Degeneration" was published, with the purpose of pre
senting entirely opposite deductions and conclusions. The appearance of
Dr. Nordau's famous book, with its criticisms upon Dr. Hirsch' s position,
enabled the latter to extend the scope of his work, which becomes a scien
tific answer to Dr. Nordau, although this was not its specific purpose
originally. Dr. Nordau has startled the reading world by his cry of " De
generation " ; Dr. Hirsch opposes his conclusions by demonstrating the
difference between "Genius" and "Degeneration," and analyzing the
social, literary, and artistic manifestations of the day dispassionately and
with a wealth of suggestive illustrations. In a brilliant explanation of the
psychology of genius he shows that Lombroso and Nordau make no dis
tinction between scientific genius based upon hard work and artistic genius ;
nor between genius and talent. He points to Goethe as an example of a
perfectly developed genius. He answers specifically Nordau's claim that
this is an age of hysterical disorder, and after an extended, brilliant, and
informing discussion of Art and Insanity, in which he shows himself a con
firmed Wagnerian, he summarizes his conclusions by absolutely declining to
accept Nordau's point of view. The field which he traverses is too broad to
be measured in this note, but it is safe to say that the book is one which
must be read by every reader of Nordau, and should be read by every
intelligent person who wishes to understand the spirit of his time and the
lessons which history teaches the psychologist.
" The first intelligent, rational, and scientific study of a great subject. ... In the
development of his argument Dr. Hirsch frequently finds it necessary to attack the
positions assumed by Nordau and Lombroso, his two leading adversaries. . . . Only
calm and sober reason endure. Dr. Hirsch possesses that calmness and sobriety. His
work will find a permanent place among the authorities of science." — New York
Herald.
" Dr. Hirsch's researches are intended to bring the reader to the conviction that
' no psychological meaning can be attached to the word genius.' . . . While all men
of genius have common traits, they are not traits characterise of genius ; they are
such as are possessed by other men, and more or less by all .nen. . . . Dr. Hirsch
believes that most of the great men, both of art and of science, were misunderstood by
their contemporaries, and were only appreciated after they were dead."— Miss T. L.
Gilder, in the Sunday Worla.
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Spencer, Herbert
The principles of
sociology