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diff --git a/40826-0.txt b/40826-0.txt index d9f4c0b..1f5ac84 100644 --- a/40826-0.txt +++ b/40826-0.txt @@ -1,37 +1,4 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Group Mind, by William McDougall - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: The Group Mind - A Sketch of the Principles of Collective Psychology - -Author: William McDougall - -Release Date: September 22, 2012 [EBook #40826] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GROUP MIND *** - - - - -Produced by David Garcia, Turgut Dincer, R. 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Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. -unless a copyright notice is included. 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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: The Group Mind - A Sketch of the Principles of Collective Psychology - -Author: William McDougall - -Release Date: September 22, 2012 [EBook #40826] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GROUP MIND *** - - - - -Produced by David Garcia, Turgut Dincer, R. Cedron and the -Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - -THE GROUP MIND - - A SKETCH OF THE PRINCIPLES OF COLLECTIVE PSYCHOLOGY WITH SOME - ATTEMPT TO APPLY THEM TO THE INTERPRETATION OF NATIONAL LIFE - AND CHARACTER - - -BY - -WILLIAM McDOUGALL, F.R.S. - - LATE FELLOW OF ST JOHN'S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE, FELLOW OF CORPUS - CHRISTI COLLEGE AND WILDE READER IN MENTAL PHILOSOPHY IN THE - UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD - - - "Une nation est une âme, un principe spirituel. Deux choses - qui, à vrai dire, n'en font qu'une constituent cette âme, ce - principe spirituel. L'une est dans le passé, l'autre dans le - présent. L'une est la possession en commun d'un riche legs de - souvenirs; l'autre est le consentement actuel, le désir de - vivre ensemble, la volonté de continuer à faire valoir - l'héritage qu'on a reçu indivis." - ERNEST RENAN. - - - CAMBRIDGE - AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS - 1920 - - - - -TO - -PROFESSOR L. T. HOBHOUSE - - in admiration of his work in philosophy, psychology, and sociology, - and in the hope that he may discern in this book some traces of the - spirit by which his own writings have been inspired. - - - - -PREFACE - - -In this book I have sketched the principles of the mental life of groups -and have made a rough attempt to apply these principles to the -understanding of the life of nations. I have had the substance of the -book in the form of lecture notes for some years, but have long -hesitated to publish it. I have been held back, partly by my sense of -the magnitude and difficulty of the subject and the inadequacy of my own -preparation for dealing with it, partly because I wished to build upon a -firm foundation of generally accepted principles of human nature. - -Some fifteen years ago I projected a complete treatise on Social -Psychology which would have comprised the substance of the present -volume. I was prevented from carrying out the ambitious scheme, partly -by the difficulty of finding a publisher, partly by my increasing sense -of the lack of any generally accepted or acceptable account of the -constitution of human nature. I found it necessary to attempt to provide -such a foundation, and in 1908 published my _Introduction to Social -Psychology_. That book has enjoyed a certain popular success. But it was -more novel, more revolutionary, than I had supposed when writing it; and -my hope that it would rapidly be accepted by my colleagues as in the -main a true account of the fundamentals of human nature has not been -realised. - -All this part of psychology labours under the great difficulty that the -worker in it cannot, like other men of science, publish his conclusions -as discoveries which will necessarily be accepted by any persons -competent to judge. He can only state his conclusions and his reasonings -and hope that they may gradually gain the general approval of his -colleagues. For to the obscure questions of fact with which he deals it -is in the nature of things impossible to return answers supported by -indisputable experimental proofs. In this field the evidence of an -author's approximation towards truth can consist only in his success in -gradually persuading competent opinion of the value of his views. My -sketch of the fundamentals of human nature can hardly claim even that -degree of success which would be constituted by an active criticism and -discussion of it in competent quarters. Yet there are not wanting -indications that opinion is turning slowly towards the acceptance of -some such doctrine as I then outlined. Especially the development of -psycho-pathology, stimulated so greatly by the esoteric dogmas of the -Freudian school, points in this direction. The only test and -verification to which any scheme of human nature can be submitted is the -application of it to practice in the elucidation of the concrete -phenomena of human life and in the control and direction of conduct, -especially in the two great fields of medicine and education. And I have -been much encouraged by finding that some workers in both of these -fields have found my scheme of use in their practice and have even, in -some few cases, given it a cordial general approval. But group -psychology is itself one of the fields in which such testing and -verification must be sought. And I have decided to delay no longer in -attempting to bring my scheme to this test. I am also impelled to -venture on what may appear to be premature publication by the fact that -five of the best years of my life have been wholly given up to military -service and the practical problems of psycho-therapy, and by the -reflection that the years of a man's life are numbered and that, even -though I should delay yet another fifteen years, I might find that I had -made but little progress towards securing the firm foundation I desired. - -It may seem to some minds astonishing that I should now admit that the -substance of this book was committed to writing before the Great War; -for that war is supposed by some to have revolutionised all our ideas of -human nature and of national life. But the war has given me little -reason to add to or to change what I had written. This may be either -because I am too old to learn, or because what I had written was in the -main true; and I am naturally disposed to accept the second explanation. - -I wish to make it clear to any would-be reader of this volume that it is -a sequel to my _Introduction to Social Psychology_, that it builds upon -that book and assumes that the reader is acquainted with it. That former -volume has been criticised as an attempted outline of _Social -Psychology_. One critic remarks that it may be good psychology, but it -is very little social; another wittily says "Mr McDougall, while giving -a full account of the genesis of instincts that act in society, hardly -shows how they issue into society. He seems to do a great deal of -packing in preparation for a journey on which he never starts." The last -sentence exactly describes the book. I found myself, like so many of my -predecessors and contemporaries, about to start on a voyage of -exploration of societies with an empty trunk, or at least with one very -inadequately supplied with the things essential for successful -travelling. I decided to avoid the usual practice of starting without -impedimenta and of picking up or inventing bits of make-shift equipment -as each emergency arose; I would pack my trunk carefully before -starting. And now although my fellow travellers have not entirely -approved my outfit, I have launched out to put it to the test; and I -cannot hope that my readers will follow me if they have not at their -command a similar outfit--namely, a similar view of the constitution of -human nature. - -I would gratefully confess that the resolve to go forward without a -further long period of preparation has been made possible for me largely -by the encouragement I have had from the recently published work of Dr -James Drever, _Instinct in Man_. For the author of that work has -carefully studied the most fundamental part of my _Social Psychology_, -in the light of his wide knowledge of the cognate literature, and has -found it to be in the main acceptable. - -The title and much of the substance of the present volume might lead a -hasty reader to suppose that I am influenced by, or even in sympathy -with, the political philosophy associated with German 'idealism.' I -would, therefore, take this opportunity both to prevent any such -erroneous inference and to indicate my attitude towards that system of -thought in plainer language than it seemed possible to use before the -war. I have argued that we may properly speak of a group mind, and that -each of the most developed nations of the present time may be regarded -as in process of developing a group mind. This must lay me open to the -suspicion of favouring the political philosophy which makes of the state -a super-individual and semi-divine person before whom all men must bow -down, renouncing their claims to freedom of judgment and action; the -political philosophy in short of German 'idealism,' which derives in the -main from Hegel, which has been so ably represented in this country by -Dr Bosanquet, which has exerted so great an influence at Oxford, and -which in my opinion is as detrimental to honest and clear thinking as it -has proved to be destructive of political morality in its native -country. I am relieved of the necessity of attempting to justify these -severe strictures by the recent publication of _The Metaphysical Theory -of the State_ by Prof. L. T. Hobhouse. In that volume Prof. Hobhouse has -subjected the political philosophy of German 'idealism,' and especially -Dr Bosanquet's presentation of it, to a criticism which, as it seems to -me, should suffice to expose the hollowness of its claims to all men -for all time; and I cannot better define my own attitude towards it than -by expressing the completeness of my sympathy with the searching -criticism of Mr Hobhouse's essay. In my youth I was misled into -supposing that the Germans were the possessors of a peculiar wisdom; and -I have spent a large part of my life in discovering, in one field of -science after another, that I was mistaken. I can always read the works -of some German philosophers, especially those of Hermann Lotze, with -admiration and profit; but I have no longer any desire to contend with -the great systems of 'idealism,' and I think it a cruel waste that the -best years of the lives of many young men should be spent struggling -with the obscure phrases in which Kant sought to express his profound -and subtle thought. My first scientific effort was to find evidence in -support of a new hypothesis of muscular contraction; and, in working -through the various German theories, I was dismayed by their lack of -clear mechanical conceptions. My next venture was in the physiology of -vision, a branch of science which had become almost exclusively German. -Starting with a prepossession in favour of one of the dominant German -theories, I soon reached the conclusion that the two German leaders in -this field, Helmholtz and Hering, with their hosts of disciples, had, in -spite of much admirable detailed work, added little of value and much -confusion to the theory of vision left us by a great Englishman,--namely, -Thomas Young; and in a long series of papers I endeavoured to restate -and supplement Young's theory. Advancing into the field of physiological -psychology, I attacked the ponderous volumes of Wundt with enthusiasm; -only to find that his physiology of the nervous system was a tissue of -unacceptable hypotheses and that he failed to connect it in any -profitable manner with his questionable psychology. And, finding even -less satisfaction in such works as Ziehen's _Physiologische -Psychologie_, with its crude materialism and associationism, or in the -dogmatic speculations of Verworn, I published my own small attempt to -bring psychology into fruitful relations with the physiology of the -nervous system. This brought me up against the great problem of the -relations between mind and body; and, having found that, in this sphere, -German 'idealism' was pragmatically indistinguishable from -thorough-going materialism, and that those Germans who claimed to -reconcile the two did not really rise much above the level of Ernst -Haeckel's wild flounderings, I published my _History and Defense of -Animism_. And in this field, though I found much to admire in the -writings of Lotze, I derived most encouragement and stimulus from Prof. -Bergson. In working at the foundations of human nature, I found little -help in German psychology, and more in French books, especially in those -of Prof. Ribot. In psycho-pathology I seemed to find that the claims of -the German and Austrian schools were far outweighed by those of the -French writers, especially of Prof. Janet. So now, in attacking the -problems of the mental life of societies, I have found little help from -German psychology or sociology, from the elaborations of Wundt's -_Völkerpsychologie_ or the ponderosities of Schäffle, and still less -from the 'idealist' philosophy of politics. In this field also it is -French authors from whom I have learnt most and with whom I find myself -most in sympathy, especially MM. Fouillée, Boutmy, Tarde, and Demolins; -though I would not be thought to hold in low esteem the works of many -English and American authors, notably those of Buckle, Bagehot, Maine, -Lecky, Lowell, and of many others, to some of which I have made -reference in the chapters of this book. - -I have striven to make this a strictly scientific work, rather than a -philosophical one; that is to say, I have tried to ascertain and state -the facts and principles of social life as it is and has been, without -expressing my opinion as to what it should be. But, in order further to -guard myself against the implications attached by German 'idealism' to -the notion of a collective mind, I wish to state that politically my -sympathies are with individualism and internationalism, although I have, -I think, fully recognised the great and necessary part played in human -life by the Group Spirit and by that special form of it which we now -call 'Nationalism.' - -I know well that those of my readers whose sympathies are with -Collectivism, Syndicalism, or Socialism in any of its various forms will -detect in this book the cloven foot of individualism and leanings -towards the aristocratic principle. I know also that many others will -reproach me with giving countenance to communistic and ultra-democratic -tendencies. I would, therefore, point out explicitly at the outset that, -if this book affords justification for any normative doctrine or ideal, -it is for one which would aim at a synthesis of the principles of -individualism and communism, of aristocracy and democracy, of -self-realization and of service to the community. I can best express -this ideal in the wise words of Mr F. H. Bradley, which I extract from -his famous essay on 'My Station and its Duties.' "The individual's -consciousness of himself is inseparable from the knowing himself as an -organ of the whole; ... for his nature now is not distinct from his -'artificial self.' He is related to the living moral system not as to a -foreign body; his relation to it is 'too inward even for faith,' since -faith implies a certain separation. It is no other-world that he can not -see but must trust to; he feels himself in it, and it in him; ... the -belief in this real moral organism is the one solution of ethical -problems. It breaks down the antithesis of despotism and individualism; -it denies them, while it preserves the truth of both. The truth of -individualism is saved, because, unless we have intense life and -self-consciousness in the members of the state, the whole state is -ossified. The truth of despotism is saved, because, unless the member -realizes the whole by and in himself, he fails to reach his own -individuality. Considered in the main, the best communities are those -which have the best men for their members, and the best men are the -members of the best communities.... The two problems of the best man and -best state are two sides, two distinguishable aspects of the one -problem, how to realize in human nature the perfect unity of homogeneity -and specification; and when we see that each of these without the other -is unreal, then we see that (speaking in general) the welfare of the -state and the welfare of its individuals are questions which it is -mistaken and ruinous to separate. Personal morality and political and -social institutions can not exist apart, and (in general) the better the -one the better the other. The community is moral, because it realizes -personal morality; personal morality is moral, because and in so far as -it realizes the moral whole." - -Since correcting the proofs of this volume I have become acquainted with -two recent books whose teaching is so closely in harmony with my own -that I wish to direct my readers' attention to them. One is Sir Martin -Conway's _The Crowd in Peace and War_, which contains many valuable -illustrations of group life. The other is Miss M. P. Follett's _The New -State; Group Organization the Solution of Popular Government_, which -expounds the principles and advantages of collective deliberation with -vigour and insight. - -I am under much obligation to the general editor of this series, Prof. -G. Dawes Hicks. He has read the proofs of my book, and has helped me -greatly with many suggestions; but he has, of course, no responsibility -for the views expressed in it. - - W. McD. - - OXFORD, - _March 1920_. - - - - -CONTENTS - - -PREFACE - - -PART I. GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF COLLECTIVE PSYCHOLOGY - PAGES - CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTION. THE PROVINCE OF COLLECTIVE PSYCHOLOGY - - The need for a more concrete psychology--the conception of the - group mind--objections to the conception examined--the conception - not a new one but familiar in political philosophy and law--the - essential problem 1-20 - - CHAPTER II. THE MENTAL LIFE OF THE CROWD - - The crowd presents the phenomena of collective life in crude - and simple forms--the formation of the psychological crowd--its - peculiarities--spread and intensification of emotions--how that - takes place--the notion of 'collective consciousness' - provisionally rejected--the submergence of personality in the - crowd--the low intelligence of crowds--suggestibility--lack of - individual responsibility 21-47 - - CHAPTER III. THE HIGHLY ORGANISED GROUP - - The principal conditions of organisation--the army as the - type--how its organisation raises the soldier to a higher plane - of collective life--the nature of collective will - illustrated--influence of leaders 48-61 - - CHAPTER IV. THE GROUP SPIRIT - - The self-consciousness of the group--the group idea and the - group sentiment--the group consciousness in primitive - life--views of Cornford and Lévy Bruhl examined--'collective - representations'--the peculiar merit of the group - spirit--multiple group consciousness--the hierarchy of - groups--interaction of groups 62-87 - - CHAPTER V. PECULIARITIES OF GROUPS OF VARIOUS TYPES - - Rudimentary groups--natural and artificial groups--purposive, - traditional and mixed groups 88-95 - - -PART II. THE NATIONAL MIND AND CHARACTER - - CHAPTER VI. WHAT IS A NATION? - - Difficulty of defining nationhood--Prof. Ramsay Muir's - definition not adequate--mental organisation, resting on - tradition, the most essential condition--lack of clear - conceptions has given currency to many obscure notions--the - study of nationhood essentially the work of group psychology 96-105 - - CHAPTER VII. THE MIND OF A NATION - - National character defined--conditions essential to its - formation--homogeneity a prime condition--the influence of - racial qualities on national character--the durability of - racial qualities--acquired mental homogeneity as illustrated - by the American nation--the influence upon it of geographical - conditions 106-130 - - CHAPTER VIII. FREEDOM OF COMMUNICATION AS A CONDITION OF NATIONAL LIFE - - Large nations impossible in the ancient world--the - tendency of nations to grow larger with increase of means - of communication 131-134 - - CHAPTER IX. THE PART OF LEADERS IN NATIONAL LIFE - - Nations owe their existence to influence of leaders--men of - genius--men of talent--their _rôle_ in national life 135-141 - - CHAPTER X. OTHER CONDITIONS OF NATIONAL LIFE - - A common purpose--war the unifier--national - responsibilities--continuity of national life--organisation of - the national mind analogous to that of the individual - mind--national self-consciousness--types of organisation 142-154 - - CHAPTER XI. THE WILL OF THE NATION - - Rousseau's doctrine of the general will--Prof. Bosanquet's - view inadequate--the national mind has both organic unity and - the unity of self-consciousness--increase of national - self-consciousness the leading fact of recent world - history--self-consciousness of nations developed by rivalry - and intercourse between them 155-168 - - CHAPTER XII. IDEAS IN NATIONAL LIFE - - The idea of the nation is constitutive--ideas work as forces - in national life only in virtue of sentiments grown up about - their objects--the notions of society as an organism and as - founded on contract synthesised in the conception of the - nation as a contractual organism--the value of nationality - examined--ideas of conquest--of ancestor worship--of liberty - and equality--of progress--of solidarity 169-186 - - CHAPTER XIII. NATIONS OF THE HIGHER TYPE - - National deliberation--the influence on it of organisation and - of traditions--certain advantages of the representative - system--public opinion arises from an informal - organisation--the problem of the high level of public - opinion--its solution to be found in the influence of leaders 187-199 - - -PART III. THE DEVELOPMENT OF NATIONAL MIND AND CHARACTER - - CHAPTER XIV. FACTORS OF NATIONAL DEVELOPMENT - - Civilisation does not imply improvement of racial - qualities--it abolishes selection by the physical - environment--it consists in improved intellectual and moral - traditions and is dependent on favourable social organisation 200-207 - - CHAPTER XV. THE RACE-MAKING PERIOD - - Differentiation of races from a common stock--human evolution - differs from that of the animals in becoming group - evolution--physical environment supplanted by social - environment and organisation--the direct effects of climate - on the body--on the mind 208-219 - - CHAPTER XVI. THE RACE-MAKING PERIOD (_continued_) - - Physical environment determines racial adaptation directly - by selection--indirectly by determining occupations and - social organisation--the protective spirit in France--the - spirit of independence in England--attempts of Buckle, - Boutmy and Sir H. Maine to account for these not successful 220-232 - - CHAPTER XVII. THE RACE-MAKING PERIOD (_continued_) - - The influence of occupations--the leading principle of the - school of Le Play--the development of the spirit of protection - in the people of Gaul--the development of the spirit of - independence in the ancestors of the English--the crossing of - races--its bad and its good results 233-245 - - CHAPTER XVIII. RACIAL CHANGES DURING THE HISTORIC PERIOD - - Race substitution--the population of Greece--internal - selection--its effects in Spain--various forms of social - selection--mostly negative or injurious to national - stock--economic selection and the social ladder--the innate - moral disposition--the question of its improvement 246-269 - - CHAPTER XIX. THE PROGRESS OF NATIONS IN THEIR YOUTH - - The rarity of progress--the conditions enabling progress--group - selection--in what has progress consisted?--views of Buckle and - Kidd--conquest and domination an early condition of - progress--variability of crossed races--influence of physical - environment--western civilisation and social organisation 270-286 - - CHAPTER XX. THE PROGRESS OF NATIONS IN THEIR MATURITY - - Liberty and social organisation--caste makes for rigidity--the - growth of toleration--imaginative sympathy increases with - increasing freedom of intercourse, bringing strife and - understanding--the group spirit as the main agent of further - progress 287-301 - - - INDEX 302-304 - - - - -CHAPTER I - -INTRODUCTION - - -THE PROVINCE OF COLLECTIVE PSYCHOLOGY - -To define exactly the relations of the several special sciences is a -task which can never be completely achieved so long as these sciences -continue to grow and change. It is a peculiarly difficult task in -respect of the biological sciences, because we have not yet reached -general agreement as to the fundamental conceptions which these sciences -should employ. To illustrate this difficulty I need only refer to a -recent symposium of the Aristotelian Society in which a number of -distinguished philosophers and biologists discussed the question "Are -physical, biological and psychological categories irreducible?" The -discussion revealed extreme differences of opinion, and failed to bring -the disputants nearer to a common view. The difficulty is still greater -in respect of the human sciences--anthropology, psychology, ethics, -politics, economics, sociology, and the rest; and it is not to be hoped -that any general agreement on this difficult question will be reached in -the near future. Yet it seems worth while that each writer who aspires -to break new ground in any part of this field of inquiry should -endeavour to make clear to himself and others his conception of the -relations of that part to the rest of the field. It is, then, in no -dogmatic spirit, or with any belief in the finality of the position -assigned to my topic, that I venture the following definition of the -province of psychology with which this book is concerned. - -I have chosen the title, "The Group Mind," after some hesitation in -favour of the alternative, "Collective Psychology." The latter has the -advantage that it has already been used by several continental authors, -more especially French and Italian psychologists. But the title I have -chosen is, I think, more distinctively English in quality and denotes -more clearly the topic that I desire to discuss. - -An alternative and not inappropriate title would have been "An Outline -of Social Psychology"; but two reasons prevented the adoption of this. -First, my _Introduction to Social Psychology_ has become generally known -by the abbreviated title _Social Psychology_. This was an unforeseen -result and unfortunate designation; for, as I have explained in the -Preface to the present volume, that other work was designed merely as a -propaedeutic; it aimed merely at clearing the ground and laying the -foundations for Social Psychology, while leaving the topic itself for -subsequent treatment. Secondly, I conceive Group Psychology to be a part -only, though a very large part, of the total field of Social Psychology; -for, while the former has to deal only with the life of groups, the -latter has also to describe and account for the influence of the group -on the growth and activities of the individual. This is the most -concrete part of psychology and naturally comes last in the order of -development of the science; for, like other sciences, psychology began -with the most abstract notions, the forms of activity of mind in -general, and, by the aid of the abstract conceptions achieved by the -earlier workers, progresses to the consideration of more concrete -problems, the problems presented by actual living persons in all their -inexhaustible richness and complexity. - -Until the later decades of the nineteenth century, psychology continued -to concern itself almost exclusively with the mind of man conceived in -an abstract fashion, not as the mind of any particular individual, but -as the mind of a representative individual considered in abstraction -from his social settings as something given to our contemplation fully -formed and complete. - -Two important changes of modern thought have shown the necessity of a -more concrete treatment of psychological problems. The first has been -the coming into prominence of the problems of genesis which, although -not originated by Darwin, received so great an impetus from his work. -The second has been the increasing realisation of the need for a more -synthetic treatment of all fields of science, the realisation that -analysis alone carries us ever farther away from concrete problems and -leads only to a system of abstract conceptions which are very remote -from reality, however useful they may prove in the physical sciences. -The biological and the human sciences especially have been profoundly -affected by these two changes of modern thought. As Theodore Merz has so -well shown in the fourth volume of his monumental work[1], the need has -been increasingly felt of the _vue d'ensemble_, of the synthetic mode of -regarding organisms, men, and institutions, not as single things, -self-contained and complete in themselves, but as merely nodes or -meeting points of all the forces of the world acting and reacting in -unlimited time and space. - -Psychology was, then, until recent years the science of the abstract -individual mind. Each worker aimed at rendering by the aid of -introspection an analytic description of the stream of his own -consciousness, a consistent classification of the elements or features -that he seemed to discover therein, and some general laws or rules of -the order of succession and conjunction of these features; postulating -in addition some one or more explanatory principles or active agencies -such as 'the will' or the desire of pleasure, the aversion from pain, or -'the association of ideas,' to enable him to account for the flow of the -distinguishable elements of consciousness. The psychology achieved by -these studies, necessary and valuable as they were, was of little help -to men who were struggling with the concrete problems of human life and -was therefore largely ignored by them. But, as I have pointed out in the -Introduction to my _Social Psychology_, those who approached these -problems were generally stimulated to do so by their interest in -questions of right and wrong, in questions of norms and standards of -conduct, the urgency of which demanded immediate answers for the -practical guidance of human life in all its spheres of activity, for the -shaping of laws, institutions, governments, and associations of every -kind; or, as frequently perhaps, for the justification and defence of -standards of conduct, modes of belief, and forms of institution, which -men had learnt to esteem as supremely good. - -Thus the political science of Hobbes was the expression of his attempt -to justify the monarchy established by the Tudors and endangered by the -failings of the Stuart kings; while that of Locke was equally the -outcome of his desire to justify the revolution of 1668. Hobbes felt it -worth while to preface his _magnum opus_ on political philosophy with a -fanciful sketch of human nature and of primitive society; yet, as Mr -Gooch remarks, "neither Hobbes nor his contemporaries knew anything of -the actual life of primitive communities[2]." And it may be added that -they knew as little of the foundations of human nature. Again, the -social doctrines of Rousseau, with all their false psychology, were -formulated in order to stir men to revolt against the conditions of -social life then prevalent in Europe. In a similar way, in the -development of all that body of social doctrine that went under the name -of Utilitarianism and which culminated in the political science and -economy of the Manchester School, every step was prompted by the desire -to find theoretical guidance or justification for rules governing human -activity. And, if we go back to the _Politics_ of Aristotle, we find the -normative or regulative aim still more prominent. - -Thus, in all the human sciences, we see that the search for what is has -been inextricably confused with and hampered by the effort to show what -ought to be; and the further back we go in their history, the more does -the normative point of view predominate. They all begin in the effort to -describe what ought to be; and incidentally give some more or less -fallacious or fantastic account of what is, merely in order to support -the normative doctrines. And, as we trace their history forward towards -the present time, we find the positive element coming more and more to -the front, until it tends to preponderate over and even completely to -supplant the normative aim. Thus even in Ethics there is now perceptible -in some quarters a tendency to repudiate the normative standpoint. All -the social sciences have, then, begun their work at what, from the -strictly logical point of view, was the wrong end; instead of first -securing a basis of positive science and then building up the normative -doctrines upon that basis, they have advanced by repeatedly going -backwards towards what should have been their foundations. Now the most -important part of the positive basis of the social sciences is -psychology; we find accordingly the social sciences at first ignoring -psychology and then gradually working back to it; they became gradually -more psychological and, in proportion as they did so, they became more -valuable. Modern writers on these topics fall into two classes; those -who have attempted to work upon a psychological foundation, and those -who have ignored or denied the need of any such basis. The earlier -efforts of the former kind, among which we may reckon those of Adam -Smith, Bentham, and the Mills, although they greatly influenced -legislation and practice in general, have nevertheless brought the -psychological method into some disrepute, because they reasoned from -psychological principles which were unduly simplified and in fact -misleading, notably the famous principle of psychological hedonism on -which they so greatly relied. Their psychology was, in brief, too -abstract; it had not achieved the necessary concreteness, which only the -introduction of the genetic standpoint and the _vue d'ensemble_ could -give it. Other writers on the social sciences were content to ignore the -achievements of psychology; but, since they dealt with the activities of -human beings and the products of those activities, such as laws, -institutions and customs, they could hardly avoid all reference to the -human mind and its processes; they then relied upon the crude -unanalysed psychological conceptions of popular speech; often they went -further and, aspiring to explain the phenomena they described, made vast -assumptions about the constitution and working of the human mind. Thus, -for example, Renan, when he sought to explain some feature of the -history of a nation or society, was in the habit, like many others, of -ascribing it to some peculiar instinct which he postulated for this -particular purpose, such as a political or a religious instinct or an -instinct of subordination or of organisation. Comte made egoism and -altruism the two master forces of the mind. Sir Henry Maine asserted -that "satisfaction and impatience are the two great sources of political -conduct," and, after asserting that "no force acting on mankind has been -less carefully examined than Party, and yet none better deserves -examination," he was content to conclude that "Party is probably nothing -more than a survival and a consequence of the primitive combativeness of -mankind[3]." More recently Prof. Giddings has discovered the principal -force underlying all human associations in _Consciousness of Kind_. -Butler and the intuitive moralists postulated 'conscience' or moral -sense as something innately present in the souls of men; while the -creators of the classical school of political economy were for the most -part content to assume that man is a purely rational being who always -intelligently pursues his own best interest, a false premise from which -they deduced some conclusions that have not withstood the test of time. -Similar vague assumptions may be found in almost every work on the -social sciences,--all illustrating the need for a psychology more -concrete than the older individual psychology, as a basis for these -sciences, a positive science, not of some hypothetical Robinson Crusoe, -but of the mental life of men as it actually unfolds itself in the -families, tribes, nations, societies of all sorts, that make up the -human world. - -The general growth of interest in genetic problems, stimulated so -greatly by the work of Darwin, turned the attention of psychologists to -the problem of the genesis of the developed human mind,--the problem of -its evolution in the race and its development in the individual. Then it -at once became apparent that both these processes are essentially -social; that they involve, and at every step are determined by, -interactions between the individual and his social environment; that, -while the growth of the individual mind is moulded by the mental forces -of the society in which it grows up, those forces are in turn the -products of the interplay of the minds composing the society; that, -therefore, we can only understand the life of individuals and the life -of societies, if we consider them always in relation to one another. It -was realised that each man is an individual only in an incomplete sense; -that he is but a unit in a vast system of vital and spiritual forces -which, expressing themselves in the form of human societies, are working -towards ends which no man can foresee; a unit whose chief function it is -to transmit these forces unimpaired, which can change or add to them -only in infinitesimal degree, and which, therefore, has but little -significance and cannot be accounted for when considered in abstraction -from that system. It became clear that the play of this system of forces -at any moment of history is predominantly determined by conditions which -are themselves the products of an immensely long course of evolution, -conditions which have been produced by the mental activities of -countless generations and which are but very little modified by the -members of society living at any one time; so that, as has been said, -society consists of the dead as well as of the living, and the part of -the living in determining its life is but insignificant as compared with -the part of the dead. - -Any psychology that recognises these facts and attempts to display the -reciprocal influences of the individual and the society in which he -plays his part may be called Social Psychology. Collective or Group -Psychology is, then, a part of this larger field. It has to study the -mental life of societies of all kinds; and such understanding of the -group life as it can achieve has then to be used by Social Psychology in -rendering more concrete and complete our understanding of the individual -life. - -Group Psychology itself consists properly of two parts, that which is -concerned to discover the most general principles of group life, and -that which applies these principles to the study of particular kinds and -examples of group life. The former is logically prior to the second; -though in practice it is hardly possible to keep them wholly apart. The -present volume is concerned chiefly with the former branch. Only when -the general principles of group life have been applied to the -understanding of particular societies, of nations and the manifold -system of groups within the nation, will it be possible for Social -Psychology to return upon the individual life and give of it an adequate -account in all its concrete fulness. - -The nature of Group Psychology may be illustrated by reference to -Herbert Spencer's conception of sociology. Spencer pointed out that, if -you set out to build a stable pile of solid bodies of a certain shape, -the kind of structure resulting is determined by the shapes and -properties of these units, that for example, if the units are spheres, -there are only very few stable forms which the pile can assume. The same -is true, he said, of such physical processes as crystallisation; the -form and properties of the whole or aggregate are determined by the -properties of the units. He maintained with less plausibility that the -same holds good of animal and vegetable forms and of the elements of -which they are composed. And he went on to argue that, in like manner, -the structure and properties of a society are determined by the -properties of the units, the individual human beings, of which it is -composed. - -This last proposition is true in a very partial sense only. For the -aggregate which is a society has, in virtue of its past history, -positive qualities which it does not derive from the units which compose -it at any one time; and in virtue of these qualities it acts upon its -units in a manner very different from that in which the units as such -interact with one another. Further, each unit, when it becomes a member -of a group, displays properties or modes of reaction which it does not -display, which remain latent or potential only, so long as it remains -outside that group. It is possible, therefore, to discover these -potentialities of the units only by studying them as elements in the -life of the whole. That is to say, the aggregate which is a society has -a certain individuality, is a true whole which in great measure -determines the nature and the modes of activity of its parts; it is an -organic whole. The society has a mental life which is not the mere sum -of the mental lives of its units existing as independent units; and a -complete knowledge of the units, if and in so far as they could be known -as isolated units, would not enable us to deduce the nature of the life -of the whole, in the way that is implied by Spencer's analogies. - -Since, then, the social aggregate has a collective mental life, which is -not merely the sum of the mental lives of its units, it may be contended -that a society not only enjoys a collective mental life but also has a -collective mind or, as some prefer to say, a collective soul. - -The tasks of Group Psychology are, then, to examine the conception of -the collective or group mind, in order to determine whether and in what -sense this is a valid conception; to display the general principles of -collective mental life which are incapable of being deduced from the -laws of the mental life of isolated individuals; to distinguish the -principal types of collective mental life or group mind; to describe the -peculiarities of those types and as far as possible to account for them. -More shortly, Group Psychology has, first, to establish the general -principles of group life (this is general collective psychology); -secondly, it has to apply these principles in the endeavour to -understand particular examples of group life. Group Psychology, thus -conceived, meets at the outset a difficulty which stands in the way of -every attempt of psychology to leave the narrow field of highly abstract -individual psychology. It finds the ground already staked out and -occupied by the representatives of another science, who are inclined to -resent its intrusion as an encroachment on their rights. The science -which claims to have occupied the field of Group Psychology is -Sociology; and it is of some importance that the claims of these -sciences should be reconciled, so that they may live and work -harmoniously together. I have no desire to claim for Group Psychology -the whole province of Sociology. As I conceive it, that province is much -wider than that of Group Psychology. Sociology is essentially a science -which has to take a comprehensive and synthetic view of the life of -mankind, and has to accept and make use of the conclusions of many other -more special sciences, of which psychology, and especially Group -Psychology, is for it perhaps the most important. But other special -sciences have very important if less intimate contributions to make to -it. Thus, if it be true that great civilisations have decayed owing to -changes of climate of their habitats, or owing to the introduction of -such diseases as malaria into them, then Climatology and Epidemiology -have their contributions to make to Sociology. If peculiarities of diet -or the crossing of racial stocks may profoundly affect the vigour of -peoples, Physiology must have its say. General biology and the science -of Genetics are bringing to light much that must be incorporated in -Sociology. Economics, although needing to be treated far more -psychologically than it commonly has been, has its special contribution -to make. These are only a few illustrations of the fact that the field -of Sociology is very much wider and more general than that of Group -Psychology, however important to it the conclusions of the narrower -science may be. - -In this book it will be maintained that the conception of a group mind -is useful and therefore valid; and, since this notion has already -excited some opposition and criticism and is one that requires very -careful definition, some attempt to define and justify it may usefully -be made at the outset; though the completer justification is the -substance of the whole book. Some writers have assumed the reality of -what is called the 'collective consciousness' of a society, meaning -thereby a unitary consciousness of the society over and above that of -the individuals comprised within it. This conception is examined in -Chapter II and provisionally rejected. But it is maintained that a -society, when it enjoys a long life and becomes highly organised, -acquires a structure and qualities which are largely independent of the -qualities of the individuals who enter into its composition and take -part for a brief time in its life. It becomes an organised system of -forces which has a life of its own, tendencies of its own, a power of -moulding all its component individuals, and a power of perpetuating -itself as a self-identical system, subject only to slow and gradual -change. - -In an earlier work, in which I have sketched in outline the program of -psychology[4], I wrote: "When the student of behaviour has learnt from -the various departments of psychology ... all that they can teach him of -the structure, genesis, and modes of operation of the individual mind, a -large field still awaits his exploration. If we put aside as unproven -such speculations as that touched on at the end of the foregoing chapter -(the view of James that the human mind can enter into an actual union or -communion with the divine mind) and refuse to admit any modes of -communication or influence between minds other than through the normal -channels of sense-perception and bodily movement, we must nevertheless -recognise the existence in a certain sense of over-individual or -collective minds. We may fairly define a mind as an organised system of -mental or purposive forces; and, in the sense so defined, every highly -organised human society may properly be said to possess a collective -mind. For the collective actions which constitute the history of any -such society are conditioned by an organisation which can only be -described in terms of mind, and which yet is not comprised within the -mind of any individual; the society is rather constituted by the system -of relations obtaining between the individual minds which are its units -of composition. Under any given circumstances the actions of the society -are, or may be, very different from the mere sum of the actions with -which its several members would react to the situation in the absence of -the system of relations which render them a society; or, in other words, -the thinking and acting of each man, in so far as he thinks and acts as -a member of a society, are very different from his thinking and acting -as an isolated individual." - -This passage has been cited by the author of a notable work on -Sociology[5], and made by him the text of a polemic against the -conception of the group mind. He writes: "This passage contains two -arguments in favour of the hypothesis of super-individual 'collective' -minds, neither of which can stand examination. The 'definition' of a -mind as 'an organised system of mental or purposive forces' is totally -inadequate. When we speak of the mind of an individual we mean something -more than this. The mind of each of us has a unity other than that of -such a system." But I doubt whether Mr Maciver could explain exactly -what kind of unity it is that he postulates. Is it the unity of soul -substance? I have myself contended at some length that this is a -necessary postulate or hypothesis[6], but I do not suppose that Maciver -accepts or intends to refer to this conception. Is it the unity of -consciousness or of self-consciousness? Then the answer is that this -unity is by no means a general and established function of the -individual mind; modern studies of the disintegration of personality -have shown this to be a questionable assumption, undermined by the many -facts of normal and abnormal psychology best resumed under Dr Morton -Prince's term 'co-consciousness.' - -The individual mind is a system of purposive forces, but the system is -by no means always a harmonious system; it is but too apt to be the -scene of fierce conflicts which sometimes (in the graver psychoneuroses) -result in the rupture and disintegration of the system. I do not know -how otherwise we are to describe the individual mind than as a system of -mental forces; and, until Maciver succeeds in showing in what other -sense he conceives it to have "a unity other than that of such a -system," his objection cannot be seriously entertained. He asks, of the -alleged collective mind: "Does the system so created think and will and -feel and act[7]?" My answer, as set out in the following pages, is that -it does all of these things. He asks further: "If a number of minds -construct by their interactivity an organisation 'which can only be -described in terms of mind,' must we ascribe to the construction the -very nature of the forces which constructed it?" To this I reply--my -point is that the individual minds which enter into the structure of the -group mind at any moment of its life do not construct it; rather, as -they come to reflective self-consciousness, they find themselves -already members of the system, moulded by it, sharing in its activities, -influenced by it at every moment in every thought and feeling and action -in ways which they can neither fully understand nor escape from, -struggle as they may to free themselves from its infinitely subtle and -multitudinous forces. And this system, as Maciver himself forcibly -insists in another connection, does not consist of relations that exist -external to and independently of the things related, namely the minds of -individuals; it consists of the same stuff as the individual minds, its -threads and parts lie within these minds; but the parts in the several -individual minds reciprocally imply and complement one another and -together make up the system which consists wholly of them; and -therefore, as I wrote, they can "only be described in terms of mind." -Any society is literally a more or less organised mental system; the -stuff of which it consists is mental stuff; the forces that operate -within it are mental forces. Maciver argues further: "Social -organisations occur of every kind and every degree of universality. If -England has a collective mind, why not Birmingham and why not each of -its wards? If a nation has a collective mind, so also have a church and -a trade union. And we shall have collective minds that are parts of -greater collective minds, and collective minds that intersect other -collective minds." By this my withers are quite unwrung. What degree of -organisation is necessary before a society can properly be said to enjoy -collective mental life or have a group mind is a question of degree; and -the exponent of the group mind is under no obligation to return a -precise answer to this question. My contention is that the most highly -organised groups display collective mental life in a way which justifies -the conception of the group mind, and that we shall be helped to -understand collective life in these most complex and difficult forms by -studying it in the simpler less elaborated groups where the conception -of a group mind is less clearly applicable. As regards the overlapping -and intersection of groups and the consequent difficulty of assigning -the limits of groups whose unity is implied by the term group mind, I -would point out that this difficulty arises only in connexion with the -lower forms of group life and that a parallel difficulty is presented by -the lower forms of animal life. Is Maciver acquainted with the -organisation of a sponge, or of the so-called coral 'insect,' or with -that of the Portuguese man-o'-war? Would he deny the unity of a human -being, or refuse to acknowledge his possession of a mind, because in -these lower organisms the limits of the unit are hard or impossible to -assign? Maciver goes on: "The second argument is an obvious fallacy. If -each man thinks and acts differently as a member of a crowd or -association and as an individual standing out of any such immediate -relation to his fellows, it is still each who thinks and acts; the new -determinations are determinations still of individual minds as they are -influenced by aggregation.... But this is merely an extreme instance of -the obvious fact that every mind is influenced by every kind of -environment. To posit a super-individual mind because individual minds -are altered by their relations to one another (as indeed they are -altered by their relations to physical conditions) is surely -gratuitous[8]." To this I reply--the environment which influences the -individual in his life as a member of an organised group is neither the -sum of his fellow members as individuals, nor is it something that has -other than a mental existence. It is the organised group as such, which -exists only or chiefly in the persons of those composing it, but which -does not exist in the mind of any one of them, and which operates upon -each so powerfully just because it is something indefinitely greater, -more powerful, more comprehensive than the mere sum of those -individuals. Maciver feels that "it is important to clear out of the way -this misleading doctrine of super-individual minds corresponding to -social or communal organisations and activities," and therefore goes on -to say that "there is no more a great 'collective' mind beyond the -individual minds in society than there is a great 'collective' tree -beyond all the individual trees in nature. A collection of trees is a -wood, and that we can study as a unity; so an aggregation of men is a -society, a much more determinate unity; but a collection of trees is not -a collective tree, and neither is a collection of persons or minds a -collective person or mind. We can speak of qualities of tree in -abstraction from any particular tree, and we can speak of qualities of -mind as such, or of some particular kind of mind in relation to some -type of situation. Yet in so doing we are simply considering the -characteristic of like elements of individual minds, as we might -consider the characteristic or like elements discoverable in individual -trees and kinds of trees. To conceive because of these identities, a -'collective' mind as existing _beside_ those of individuals or a -collective tree beside the variant examples is to run against the wall -of the Idea theory." Now, I am not proposing to commit myself to this -last-named theory. It is not because minds have much in common with one -another that I speak of the collective mind, but because the group as -such is more than the sum of the individuals, has its own life -proceeding according to laws of group life, which are not the laws of -individual life, and because its peculiar group life reacts upon and -profoundly modifies the lives of the individuals. I would not call a -forest a collective tree; but I would maintain that in certain respects -a forest, a wood, or a copse, has in a rudimentary way a collective -life. Thus the forest remains the same forest though, after a hundred or -a thousand years, all its constituent trees may be different -individuals; and again the forest as a whole may and does modify the -life of each tree, as by attracting moisture, protecting from violent -and cold winds, harbouring various plants and animals which affect the -trees, and so on. - -But I will cite an eloquent passage from a recent work on sociology in -support of my view. "The bonds of society are in the members of society, -and not outside them. It is the memories, traditions, and beliefs of -each which make up the social memories, traditions and beliefs. Society -like the kingdom of God is within us. Within us, within each of us, and -yet greater than the thoughts and understandings of any of us. For the -social thoughts and feelings and willings of each, the socialised mind -of each, with the complex scheme of his relation to the social world, is -no mere reproduction of the social thoughts and feelings and willings of -the rest. Unity and difference here too weave their eternal web, the -greater social scheme which none of us who are part of it can ever see -in its entirety, but whose infinite subtlety and harmony we may more and -more comprehend and admire. As a community grows in civilisation and -culture, its traditions are no longer clear and definite ways of -thinking, its usages are no longer uniform, its spirit is no longer to -be summed up in a few phrases. But the spirit and tradition of a people -become no less real in becoming more complex. Each member no longer -embodies the whole tradition, but it is because each embodies some part -of a greater tradition to which the freely-working individuality of each -contributes. In this sense the spirit of a people, though existing only -in the individual members, more and more surpasses the measure of any -individual mind. Again, the social tradition is expressed through -institutions and records more permanent than the short-lived members of -community. These institutions and records are as it were stored social -values (just as, in particular, books may be called stored social -knowledge), _in themselves nothing_, no part of the social mind, but the -instruments of the communication of traditions from member to member, as -also from the dead past to the living present. In this way too, with -the increase of these stored values, of which members realise parts but -none the whole, the spirit of a people more and more surpasses the -measure of any individual mind. It is these social forces within and -without, working in the minds of individuals whose own social -inheritance is an essential part of their individuality, stored in the -institutions which they maintain from the past or establish in the -present, that mould the communal spirit of the successive generations. -In this sense too a community may be called greater than its members who -exist at any one time, since the community itself marches out of the -past into the present, and its members at any time are part of a great -succession, themselves first moulded by communal forces before they -become, so moulded, the active determinants of its future moulding." An -admirable statement! "The greater social scheme which none of us can see -in its entirety"--"the spirit of a people" which "more and more surpasses -the measure of any individual mind"--"the communal spirit of the -successive generations"--"the community" which is "greater than its -members who exist at any one time"; all these are alternative -designations of that organised system of mental forces which exists over -and above, though not independently of, the individuals in each of whom -some fragment of it is embodied and which is the group mind. And the -writer of this statement is Mr R. M. Maciver; the passage occurs in the -section of his book designed to "clear out of the way this misleading -doctrine of super-individual minds." In the same section he goes on to -say that "every association, every organised group, may and does have -rights and obligations which are not the rights and obligations of any -or all of its members taken distributively but only of the association -acting as an organised unity.... As a unity the association may become a -'juristic person,' a 'corporation,' and from the legal standpoint the -character of unity so conceived is very important.... The 'juristic -person' is a real _unity_, and therefore more than a _persona ficta_, -but the reality it possesses is of a totally different order of being -from that of the persons who establish it." But, perversely as it seems -to me, Maciver adds "the unity of which we are thinking is not mechanic -or organic or even psychic." I cannot but think that, in thus denying -the organic and psychic nature of this unity, Maciver is under the -influence of that unfortunate and still prevalent way of thinking of the -psychic as identical with the conscious which has given endless trouble -in psychology; because it has prompted the hopeless attempt, constantly -renewed, to describe the structure and organisation of the mind in -terms of conscious stuff, ignoring the all-important distinction between -mental activity, which is sometimes, though perhaps not always, -consciousness, and mental structure which is not. The structure and -organisation of the spirit of the community is in every respect as -purely mental or psychic as is the structure and organisation of the -individual mind. - -Maciver very properly goes on to bring his conclusions to the pragmatic -test, the test of practical results. He writes: "These false analogies -... are the sources of that most misleading antithesis which we draw -between the individual and society, as though society were somehow other -than its individuals.... Analyse these misleading analogies, and in the -revelation of their falsity there is revealed also the falsity of this -essential opposition of individual and society. Properly understood, the -interests of 'the individual' are the interests of society[9]." But is -it true that the interests of the individual are identical with the -interests of society? Obviously not. We have only to think of the -condemned criminal; of the mentally defective to whom every enlightened -society should deny the right of procreation; of the young soldier who -sacrifices his health, his limbs, his eyesight, or his life, and perhaps -the welfare of his loved ones, in serving his country. It is true that -the progress of society is essentially an approximation towards an ideal -state in which this identification would be completed; but that is an -ideal which can never be absolutely realised. Nor is it even true that -the interests of society are identical with the interests of the -majority of its members existing at any one time. It is, I think, highly -probable that, if any great modern nation should unanimously and -wholeheartedly embark upon a thorough-going scheme of state-socialism, -the interests of the vast majority of individuals would be greatly -promoted; they would be enabled to live more prosperously and -comfortably with greater leisure and opportunity for the higher forms of -activity. It is, however, equally probable that the higher interests of -the nation would be gravely endangered, that it would enter upon a -period of increasing stagnation and diminishing vitality and, after a -few generations had passed away, would have slipped far down the slope -which has led all great societies of the past to destruction. - -The question may be considered in relation to the German nation. As will -be pointed out in a later chapter, the structure of that nation was, -before the Great War, a menace to European civilisation. If the Germans -had succeeded in their aims and had conquered Europe or the world, -their individual interests would have been vastly promoted; they would -have enjoyed immense material prosperity and a proud consciousness of -having been chosen by God to rule the rest of mankind for their good. -And this would have confirmed the nation in all its vices and would have -finally crushed out of it all its potentialities for developing into a -well-organised nation of the higher type, fitted to play an honourable -part in the future evolution of mankind. The same truth appears if we -consider the problem of the responsibility of the German nation for the -War. So long as that people might retain its former organisation, which, -I repeat, rendered it a menace to the civilisation and culture of the -whole world, its antagonists could only treat it as a criminal and an -outlaw to be repressed at all costs and punished and kept down with the -utmost severity. But, if it should achieve a new organisation, one which -will give preponderance to the better and saner elements and traditions -still preserved within it, then, although it will consist of the same -individuals in the main, it will have become a new or at least a -transformed nation, one with which the other nations could enter into -normal relations of amity or at least of mutual toleration, one which -could be admitted to a place in the greater society which the League of -Nations is to become. In other words, the same population would in -virtue of a changed organisation, have become a different nation. - -Although Maciver, in making his attack upon the conception of the group -mind, has done me the honour to choose me as its exponent, I do not -stand alone in maintaining it. I am a little shy of citing in its -support the philosophers of the school of German 'idealism,' because, as -I have indicated in the Preface, I have little sympathy with that -school. Yet, though one may disapprove of the methods and of most of the -conclusions of a school of thought, one may still adduce in support of -one's opinion such of its principles as seem to be well founded. I may, -then, remind the reader that the conception of the State as a -super-individual, a superhuman quasi-divine personality, is the central -conception of the political philosophy of German 'idealism.' That -conception has, no doubt, played a considerable part in bringing upon -Europe its present disaster. It was an instance of one of those -philosophical ideas which claim to be the product of pure reason, yet in -reality are adopted for the purpose of justifying and furthering some -already existing interest or institution. In this case the institution -in question was the Prussian state and those, Hegel and the rest, who -set up this doctrine were servants of that state. They made of their -doctrine an instrument for the suppression of individuality which -greatly aided in producing the servile condition of the German people. -Yet the distortions and exaggerations of the political philosophy of -German 'idealism' should not prejudice us against the germ of truth -which it contains; and the more enlightened British disciples of this -school, from T.H. Green onwards, have sought with much success to winnow -the grain from the chaff of the doctrine; and I cannot adduce better -support for the conception of the group mind than the sentences in which -a recent English writer, a sympathetic student of German 'idealism,' -sums up the results of this winnowing process[10]. Discussing the -deficiencies of the individualist philosophy of the English utilitarian -school, he writes: "Not a modification of the old Benthamite premises, -but a new philosophy was needed; and that philosophy was provided by the -idealist school, of which Green is the greatest representative. That -school drew its inspiration immediately from Kant and Hegel, and -ultimately from the old Greek philosophy of the city-state. The vital -relation between the life of the individual and the life of the -community, which alone gives the individual worth and significance, -because it alone gives him the power of full moral development; the -dependence of the individual, for all his rights and for all his -liberty, on his membership of the community; the correlative duty of the -community to guarantee to the individual all his rights (in other words, -all the conditions necessary for his, and therefore for its own, full -moral development)--these were the premisses of the new philosophy. That -philosophy could satisfy the new needs of social progress, because it -refused to worship a supposed individual liberty which was proving -destructive of the real liberty of the vast majority, and preferred to -emphasise the moral well-being and betterment of the whole community, -and to conceive of each of its members as attaining his own well-being -and betterment in and through the community. Herein lay, or seemed to -lie, a revolution of ideas. Instead of starting from a central -individual, to whom the social system is supposed to be adjusted, the -idealist starts from a central social system, in which the individual -must find his appointed orbit of duty. But after all the revolution is -only a restoration; and what is restored is simply the _Republic_ of -Plato[11]." The same writer reminds us that "both Plato and Hegel thus -imply the idea of a moral organism"; and he adds, "It is this conception -of a moral organism which Bradley urges. It is implied in daily -experience, and it is the only explanation of that experience. 'In fact, -what we call an individual man is what he is because of and by virtue of -community, and communities are not mere names, but something real.' -Already at birth the child is what he is in virtue of communities: he -has something of the family character, something of the national -character, something of the civilised character which comes from human -society. As he grows, the community in which he lives pours itself into -his being in the language he learns and the social atmosphere he -breathes, so that the content of his being implies in its every fibre -relations of community. He is what he is by including in his essence the -relations of the social State.... And regarding the State as a system, -in which many spheres (the family, for instance) are subordinated to one -sphere, and all the particular actions of individuals are subordinated -to their various spheres, we may call it a moral organism, a systematic -whole informed by a common purpose or function. As such it has an outer -side--a body of institutions; it has an inner side--a soul or spirit which -sustains that body. And since it is a moral organism--since, that is to -say, its parts are themselves conscious moral agents--that spirit resides -in those parts and lives in their consciousness. In such an organism--and -this is where it differs from an animal organism, and why we have to use -the word moral--the parts are conscious: they know themselves in their -position as parts of the whole, and they therefore know the whole of -which they are parts. So far as they have such knowledge, and a will -based upon it, so far is the moral organism self-conscious and -self-willing.... Thus, on the one hand, we must recognise that the State -lives; that there is a nation's soul, self-conscious in its citizens; -and that to each citizen this living soul assigns his field of -accomplishment[12]." On a later page of the same book we read--"All the -institutions of a country, so far as they are effective, are not only -products of thought and creations of mind: they _are_ thought, and they -_are_ mind. Otherwise we have a building without a tenant, and a body -without a mind. An Oxford college is not a group of buildings, though -common speech gives that name to such a group: it is a group of men. But -it is not a group of men in the sense of a group of bodies in -propinquity: it is a group of men in the sense of a group of minds. That -group of minds, in virtue of the common substance of an uniting idea, -is itself a group-mind. There is no group-mind existing apart from the -minds of the members of the group; the group-mind only exists in the -minds of its members. But nevertheless it exists. There is a college -mind, just as there is a Trade Union mind, or even a 'public mind' of -the whole community; and we are all conscious of such a mind as -something that exists in and along with the separate minds of the -members, and over and above any sum of those minds created by mere -addition[13]." - -The political philosophers of the idealist school have not stood alone -in recognising the reality of the group mind. Some of the lawyers, -notably Maitland, have arrived at a very similar doctrine; and I cannot -better summarise their conclusions than Barker has done in the following -passage in the book from which I have already cited so freely. "The new -doctrine," he writes, "runs somewhat as follows. No permanent group, -permanently organised for a durable object, can be regarded as a mere -sum of persons, whose union, to have any rights or duties, must receive -a legal confirmation. Permanent groups are themselves persons, -group-persons, with a group-will of their own and a permanent character -of their own; and they have become group-persons of themselves, without -any creative act of the State. In a word, group-persons are real -persons; and just because they are so, and possess such attributes of -persons as will and character, they cannot have been made by the -State[14]." - -I am not alone, then, in postulating the reality of the group mind. And -I am glad to be able to cite evidence of this, because I know well that -very many readers may at first find themselves repelled by this notion -of a group mind, and that some of them will incline to regard it as the -fantastic fad of an academic crank. - -I would say at once that the crucial point of difference between my own -view of the group mind and that of the German 'idealist' school (at -least in its more extreme representatives) is that I repudiate, -provisionally at least, as an unverifiable hypothesis the conception of -a collective or super-individual consciousness, somehow comprising the -consciousness of the individuals composing the group. I have examined -this conception in the following chapter and have stated my grounds for -rejecting it. The difference of practical conclusions arising from this -difference of theory must obviously be very great. - -Several books dealing with collective psychology have been published in -recent years. Of these perhaps the most notable are G. le Bon's -_Psychology of the Crowd_, his _Evolution psychologique des peuples_; -Sighele's _La foule criminelle_; the _Psychologie collective_ of Dr A. -A. Marie; and Alfred Fouillée's _La Science sociale contemporaine_. It -is noteworthy that, with the exception of the last, all these books deal -only with crowds or groups of low organisation; and their authors, like -almost all others who have touched on this subject, are concerned -chiefly to point out how participation in the group life degrades the -individual, how the group feels and thinks and acts on a much lower -plane than the average plane of the individuals who compose it. - -On the other hand, many writers have insisted on the fact that it is -only by participation in the life of society that any man can realise -his higher potentialities; that society has ideals and aims and -traditions loftier than any principles of conduct the individual can -form for himself unaided; and that only by the further evolution of -organised society can mankind be raised to higher levels; just as in the -past it has been only through the development of organised society that -the life of man has ceased to deserve the epithets 'nasty, brutish and -short' which Hobbes applied to it. - -We seem then to stand before a paradox. Participation in group life -degrades the individual, assimilating his mental processes to those of -the crowd, whose brutality, inconstancy, and unreasoning impulsiveness -have been the theme of many writers; yet only by participation in group -life does man become fully man, only so does he rise above the level of -the savage. - -The resolution of this paradox is the essential theme of this book. It -examines and fully recognises the mental and moral defects of the crowd -and its degrading effects upon all those who are caught up in it and -carried away by the contagion of its reckless spirit. It then goes on to -show how organisation of the group may, and generally does in large -measure, counteract these degrading tendencies; and how the better kinds -of organisation render group life the great ennobling influence by aid -of which alone man rises a little above the animals and may even aspire -to fellowship with the angels. - - - - -PART I - -GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF COLLECTIVE PSYCHOLOGY - - - - -CHAPTER II - -THE MENTAL LIFE OF THE CROWD - - -It is a notorious fact that, when a number of men think and feel and act -together, the mental operations and the actions of each member of the -group are apt to be very different from those he would achieve if he -faced the situation as an isolated individual. Hence, though we may know -each member of a group so intimately that we can, with some confidence, -foretell his actions under given circumstances, we cannot foretell the -behaviour of the group from our knowledge of the individuals alone. If -we would understand and be able to predict the behaviour of the group, -we must study the way in which the mental processes of its members are -modified in virtue of their membership. That is to say, we must study -the interactions between the members of the group and also those between -the group as a whole and each member. We must examine also the forms of -group organisation and their influence upon the life of the group. - -Groups differ greatly from one another in respect of the kind and degree -of organisation they possess. In the simplest case the group has no -organisation. In some cases the relations of the constituent individuals -to one another and to the whole group are not in any way determined or -fixed by previous events; such a group constitutes merely a mob. In -other groups the individuals have certain determinate relations to one -another which have arisen in one or more of three ways: - -(1) Certain relations may have been established between the individuals, -before they came together to form a group; for example, a parish council -or a political meeting may be formed by persons belonging to various -definitely recognised classes, and their previously recognised relations -will continue to play a part in determining the collective -deliberations and actions of the group; they will constitute an -incipient organisation. - -(2) If any group enjoys continuity of existence, certain more or less -constant relations, of subordination, deference, leadership and so -forth, will inevitably become established between the individuals of -which it is composed; and, of course, such relations will usually be -deliberately established and maintained by any group that is united by a -common purpose, in order that its efficiency may be promoted. - -(3) The group may have a continued existence and a more or less -elaborate and definite organisation independently of the individuals of -which it is composed; in such a case the individuals may change while -the formal organisation of the group persists; each person who enters it -being received into some more or less well-defined and generally -recognised position within the group, which formal position determines -in great measure the nature of his relations to other members of the -group and to the group as a whole. - -We can hardly imagine any concourse of human beings, however fortuitous -it may be, utterly devoid of the rudiments of organisation of one or -other of these three kinds; nevertheless, in many a fortuitous concourse -the influence of such rudimentary organisation is so slight as to be -negligible. Such a group is an unorganised crowd or mob. The unorganised -crowd presents many of the fundamental phenomena of collective -psychology in relative simplicity; whereas the higher the degree of -organisation of a group, the more complicated is its psychology. We -shall, therefore, study first the mental peculiarities of the -unorganised crowd, and shall then go on to consider the modifications -resulting from a simple and definite type of organisation. - -Not every mass of human beings gathered together in one place within -sight and sound of one another constitutes a crowd in the psychological -sense of the word. There is a dense gathering of several hundred -individuals at the Mansion House Crossing at noon of every week-day; but -ordinarily each of them is bent upon his own task, pursues his own ends, -paying little or no regard to those about him. But let a fire-engine -come galloping through the throng of traffic, or the Lord Mayor's state -coach arrive, and instantly the concourse assumes in some degree the -character of a psychological crowd. All eyes are turned upon the -fire-engine or coach; the attention of all is directed to the same -object; all experience in some degree the same emotion, and the state of -mind of each person is in some degree affected by the mental processes -of all those about him. Those are the fundamental conditions of -collective mental life. In its more developed forms, an awareness of the -crowd or group as such in the mind of each member plays an important -part; but this is not an essential condition of its simpler -manifestations. The essential conditions of collective mental action -are, then, a common object of mental activity, a common mode of feeling -in regard to it, and some degree of reciprocal influence between the -members of the group. It follows that not every aggregation of -individuals is capable of becoming a psychological crowd and of enjoying -a collective life. For the individuals must be capable of being -interested in the same objects and of being affected in a similar way by -them; there must be a certain degree of similarity of mental -constitution among the individuals, a certain mental homogeneity of the -group. Let a man stand on a tub in the midst of a gathering of a hundred -Englishmen and proceed to denounce and abuse England; those individuals -at once become a crowd. Whereas, if the hundred men were of as many -races and nations, their attention would hardly be attracted by the -orator; for they would have no common interest in the topic of his -discourse. Or let the man on the tub denounce the establishment of the -Church of England, and the hundred Englishmen do not become a crowd; -for, although all may be interested and attentive, the words of the -orator evoke in them very diverse feelings and emotions, the sentiments -they entertain for the Church of England being diverse in character. - -There must, then, be some degree of similarity of mental constitution, -of interest and sentiment, among the persons who form a crowd, a certain -degree of mental homogeneity of the group. And the higher the degree of -this mental homogeneity of any gathering of men, the more readily do -they form a psychological crowd and the more striking and intense are -the manifestations of collective life. All gatherings of men that are -not purely fortuitous are apt to have a considerable degree of mental -homogeneity; thus the members of a political meeting are drawn together -by common political opinions and sentiments; the audience in a concert -room shares a common love of music or a common admiration for the -composer, conductor, or great executant; and a still higher degree of -homogeneity prevails when a number of persons of the same religious -persuasion are gathered together at a great revival meeting. Consider -how under such circumstances a very ordinary joke or point made by a -political orator provokes a huge delight; how, at a concert, the -admiration of the applauding audience swells to a pitch of frantic -enthusiasm; how, at the skilfully conducted and successful revival -meeting, the fervour of emotion is apt to rise, until it exceeds all -normal modes of expression and men and women give way to loud weeping or -even hysterical convulsions. - -Such exaltation or intensification of emotion is the most striking -result of the formation of a crowd, and is one of the principal sources -of the attractiveness of the crowd. By participation in the mental life -of a crowd, one's emotions are stirred to a pitch that they seldom or -never attain under other conditions. This is for most men an intensely -pleasurable experience; they are, as they say, carried out of -themselves, they feel themselves caught up in a great wave of emotion, -and cease to be aware of their individuality and all its limitations; -that isolation of the individual, which oppresses every one of us, -though it may not be explicitly formulated in his consciousness, is for -the time being abolished. The repeated enjoyment of effects of this kind -tends to generate a craving for them, and also a facility in the spread -and intensification of emotion in this way; this is probably the -principal cause of the greater excitability of urban populations as -compared with dwellers in the country, and of the well-known violence -and fickleness of the mobs of great cities. - -There is one kind of object in the presence of which no man remains -indifferent and which evokes in almost all men the same emotion, namely -impending danger; hence the sudden appearance of imminent danger may -instantaneously convert any concourse of people into a crowd and produce -the characteristic and terrible phenomena of a panic. In each man the -instinct of fear is intensely excited; he experiences that horrible -emotion in full force and is irresistibly impelled to save himself by -flight. The terrible driving power of this impulse, excited to its -highest pitch under the favouring conditions, suppresses all other -impulses and tendencies, all habits of self-restraint, of courtesy and -consideration for others; and we see men, whom we might have supposed -incapable of cruel or cowardly behaviour, trampling upon women and -children, in their wild efforts to escape from the burning theatre, the -sinking ship, or other place of danger. - -The panic is the crudest and simplest example of collective mental life. -Groups of gregarious animals are liable to panic; and the panic of a -crowd of human beings seems to be generated by the same simple -instinctive reactions as the panic of animals. The essence of the panic -is the collective intensification of the instinctive excitement, with -its emotion of fear and its impulse to night. The principle of primitive -sympathy[15] seems to afford a full and adequate explanation of such -collective intensification of instinctive excitement. The principle is -that, in man and in the gregarious animals generally, each instinct, -with its characteristic primary emotion and specific impulse, is capable -of being excited in one individual by the expressions of the same -emotion in another, in virtue of a special congenital adaptation of the -instinct on its Cognitive or perceptual side. In the crowd, then, the -expressions of fear of each individual are perceived by his neighbours; -and this perception intensifies the fear directly excited in them by the -threatening danger. Each man perceives on every hand the symptoms of -fear, the blanched distorted faces, the dilated pupils, the high-pitched -trembling voices, and the screams of terror of his fellows; and with -each such perception his own impulse and his own emotion rise to a -higher pitch of intensity, and their expressions become correspondingly -accentuated and more difficult to control. So the expressions of each -member of the crowd work upon all other members within sight and hearing -of him to intensify their excitement; and the accentuated expressions of -the emotion, so intensified, react upon him to raise his own excitement -to a still higher pitch; until in all individuals the instinct is -excited in the highest possible degree. - -This principle of direct induction of emotion by way of the primitive -sympathetic response enables us to understand the fact that a concourse -of people (or animals) may be quickly turned into a panic-stricken crowd -by some threatening object which is perceptible by only a few of the -individuals present. A few persons near the stage of a theatre see -flames dart out among the wings; then, though the flames may be -invisible to the rest of the house, the expressions of the startled few -induce fear in their neighbours, and the excitement sweeps over the -whole concourse like fire blown across the prairie. - -The same principle enables us to understand how a few fearless -individuals may arrest the spread of a panic. If they experience no -fear, or can completely arrest its expressions, and can in any way make -themselves prominent, can draw and hold the attention of their fellows -to themselves, then these others, instead of perceiving on every hand -only the expressions of fear, perceive these few calm and resolute -individuals; the process of reciprocal intensification of the excitement -is checked and, if the danger is not too imminent and obvious, the panic -may die away, leaving men ashamed and astonished at the intensity of -their emotion and the violent irrational character of their behaviour. - -Other of the cruder primary emotions may spread through a crowd in very -similar fashion, though the process is rarely so rapid and intense as in -the case of fear[16]. And in every case the principal cause of the -intensification of the emotion is the reciprocal action between the -members of the crowd, according to the principle of sympathetic -induction of emotion in one individual by its expressions in others. - -In panic, the dominance of the one emotion and its impulse is so -complete as to allow no scope for any of the subtler modes of collective -mental operation. But in other cases other conditions co-operate to -determine the character of the emotional response of the crowd. Of these -the most important are the awareness of the crowd as a whole in the mind -of each member of it and his consciousness of his membership in the -whole. When a common emotion pervades the crowd, each member becomes -more or less distinctly aware of the fact; and this gives him a sense of -sharing in a mighty and irresistible power which renders him reckless of -consequences and encourages him to give himself up to the prevailing -emotion without restraint. Thus, in the case of an audience swept by an -emotion of admiration for a brilliant singer, the thunder of applause, -which shows each individual that his emotion is shared by all the rest, -intensifies his own emotion, not only by way of sympathetic induction, -but also because it frees him from that restraint of emotion which is -habitual with most of us in the presence of any critical or adversely -disposed spectators, and which the mere thought of such spectators tends -to maintain and strengthen. Again, the oratory of a demagogue, if -addressed to a large crowd, will raise angry emotion to a pitch of -intensity far higher than any it will attain if he is heard by a few -persons only; and this is due not only to accentuation of the emotion by -sympathetic induction, but also to the fact that, as the symptoms of the -emotion begin to be manifested on all sides, each man becomes aware that -it pervades the crowd, that the crowd as a whole is swayed by the same -emotion and the same impulse as he himself feels, that none remains to -criticise the violence of his expressions. To which it must be added -that the consciousness of the harmony of one's feelings with those of a -mass of one's fellows, and the consequent sense of freedom from all -restraint, are highly pleasurable to most men; they find a pleasure in -letting themselves go, in being swept away in the torrent of collective -emotion. This is one of the secrets of the fascination which draws many -thousands of spectators to a football match, and brings together the -multitudes of base-ball 'fans' bubbling over with eager anticipation of -an emotional orgy. - -The fact that the emotions of crowds are apt to be very violent has long -been recognised, and the popular mind, in seeking to account for it, has -commonly postulated very special and even supernatural causes. The negro -author of a most interesting book[17] has given the following -description of the religious frenzy of a crowd of Christian negroes: "An -air of intense excitement possessed the mass of black folk. A suppressed -terror hung in the air and seemed to seize us,--a pythian madness, a -demoniac possession, that lent terrible reality to song and word. The -massive form of the preacher swayed and quivered as the words crowded to -his lips. The people moaned and fluttered and then a gaunt brown woman -suddenly leaped into the air and shrieked like a lost soul, while round -about came wail and groan and outcry, a scene of human passion such as I -had never even imagined." The author goes on to say that this frenzy is -attributed by the black folk to the direct influence of the Spirit of -the Lord, making mad the worshippers with supernatural joy, and that -this belief is one of the leading features of their religion. Similar -practices, depending upon the tendency of collective emotion to rise to -an extreme intensity, have been common to the peoples of many lands in -all ages; and similar supernatural explanations have been commonly -devised and accepted. I need only remind the reader of the Dionysiac -orgies of ancient Greece. - -The facts are so striking that for the popular mind they remain -unaccountable, and not to be mentioned without some vague reference to -magnetism, electricity, hypnotism, or some mysterious contagion; and -even modern scientific writers have been led to adopt somewhat -extravagant hypotheses to account for them. Thus Dr Le Bon[18] speaks of -"the magnetic influence given out by the crowd" and says that, owing to -this influence, "or from some other cause of which we are ignorant, an -individual immerged for some length of time in a crowd in action soon -finds himself in a special state, which much resembles the state of -fascination in which the hypnotised individual finds himself in the -hands of the hypnotiser." He goes on to say that in the hypnotised -subject the conscious personality disappears and that his actions are -the outcome of the unconscious activities of the spinal cord. Now, -crowds undoubtedly display great suggestibility, but great -suggestibility does not necessarily imply hypnosis; and there is no -ground for supposing that the members of a crowd are thrown into any -such condition, save possibly in very rare instances. - -There are however two hypotheses, sometimes invoked for the explanation -of the peculiarities of collective mental life, which demand serious -consideration and which we may with advantage consider at this point. - -One is the hypothesis of telepathy. A considerable amount of respectable -evidence has been brought forward in recent years to prove that one mind -may directly influence another by some obscure mode of action that does -not involve the known organs of expression and of perception; and much -of this evidence seems to show that one mind may directly induce in -another a state of consciousness similar to its own. If, then, such -direct interaction between two minds can take place in an easily -appreciable degree in certain instances, it would seem not improbable -that a similar direct interaction, producing a lesser, and therefore -less easily appreciable, degree of assimilation of the states of -consciousness of the minds concerned, may be constantly and normally at -work. If this were the case, such telepathic interaction might well play -a very important part in collective mental life, and, where a large -number of persons is congregated, it might tend to produce that -intensification of emotion which is so characteristic of crowds. In -fact, if direct telepathic communication of emotion in however slight a -degree is possible and normal, and especially if the influence is one -that diminishes with distance, it may be expected to produce its most -striking results among the members of a crowd; for the emotion of each -member might be expected to be intensified by the telepathic influence -radiating from every other member. Some slight presumption in favour of -such a mode of explanation is afforded by the fact that the popular use -of the word contagion in the present connexion seems to imply, however -vaguely, some such direct communication of emotion. But telepathic -communication has not hitherto been indisputably established; and the -observations that afford so strong a presumption in its favour indicate -that, if and in so far as it occurs, it does so sporadically and only -between individuals specially attuned to one another or in some abnormal -mental state that renders them specially sensitive to the influence[19]. -And, while the acceptance of the principle of sympathetic induction of -an emotion, as an instinctive perceptual response to the expressions of -that emotion, renders unnecessary any further principle of explanation, -the consideration of the conditions of the spread of emotion through -crowds affords evidence that this mode of interaction of the individuals -is all-important and that telepathic communication, if it occurs, is of -secondary importance. For the spreading and the great intensification of -emotion seem to depend upon its being given expressions that are -perceptible by the senses. So long as its expressions are suppressed, -the emotion of an assembly does not become excessive. It is only by -eliciting and encouraging the expressions of emotions that the -revivalist, the political orator, or the comic man on the music-hall -stage, achieves his successes. That the expressions of an emotion are -far more effective in this way than the emotion itself is recognised by -the practice of the _claqueurs_. When an audience has once been induced -to give expression to a common emotion, its members are, as it were, set -in tune with one another; each man is aware that he is in harmony with -all the rest as regards his feelings and emotions, and, even in the -periods during which all expressions are suppressed by the audience, -this awareness serves to sustain the mood and to prepare for fresh -outbursts. The mere silence of an audience, the absence of coughs, -shufflings, and uneasy movements, suffices to make each member aware -that all his fellows are attentive and are responding with the -appropriate emotion; but it is not until the applause, the indignation, -or the laughter, breaks out in free expression that the emotion reaches -its highest pitch. And a skilful orator or entertainer, recognising -these facts, takes care to afford frequent opportunities for the -collective displays of emotion. - -We must recognise, then, that, even if telepathic communication be -proved to be possible in certain cases, there is not sufficient evidence -of its operation in the spread of emotion through crowds, and that the -facts are sufficiently explained by another principle of general and -indisputable validity, the principle of primitive sympathy. - -The second hypothesis to be considered in this connexion is that of the -'collective consciousness.' The conception of a collective consciousness -has been reached by a large number of authors along several lines of -observation and reasoning and is seriously defended at the present time, -more especially by several French and German writers. They maintain -that, in some sense and manner, the consciousnesses of individuals are -not wholly shut off from one another, but may co-operate in the genesis -of, or share in the being of, a more comprehensive consciousness that -exists beside and in addition to them. The conception varies according -to the route by which it is reached and the use that is made of it; but -in all its varieties the conception remains extremely obscure; no one -has succeeded in making clear how the relation of the individual -consciousness to the collective consciousness is to be conceived. In the -writings of many metaphysicians, of whom Hegel is the most prominent, -'the Absolute' seems to imply such a collective consciousness, an -all-inclusive world-consciousness of which the individual consciousness -of each man is somehow but a constituent element or fragmentary -manifestation. But it would be unprofitable to attempt any discussion of -the conception. We are concerned only with the empirical conception of a -collective consciousness based on observation and induction. - -Such a conception finds its strongest support in the analogy afforded by -a widely current view of the nature and conditions of the psychical -individuality of men and animals; the view, namely, that the individual -consciousness of any man or animal is the collective consciousness of -the cells of which his body, or his nervous system, is composed. We -know that the nervous system is made up of cells each of which is a -vital unit, capable of living, of achieving its essential vital -processes, independently of other cells; and we see free living cells -that in many respects are comparable with these and to which we seem -compelled, according to the principle of continuity, to attribute some -germ of psychical life however rudimentary. What is known of the -phylogenetic and ontogenetic development of the multicellular animal -seems to justify us in regarding it as essentially an aggregate of such -independent vital units, which, being formed by repeated fission from a -single cell, adhere together and undergo differentiation and -specialisation of functions. If then the parent cell, the germ cell, has -a rudimentary psychical life, it is difficult to deny it altogether to -the cells formed from it by fission; and it is argued that all these -cells continue to enjoy a psychical life and that the consciousness of -the individual man or animal is the collective consciousness of some or -all of these cells. Now we know that the consciousness of any one of the -higher animals has for its physical correlate at any moment processes -going on simultaneously in many different parts and elements of the -brain. It is argued, then, that we must suppose each cell of the brain -to enjoy, whenever it is active, its own psychical life, and at the same -time to contribute something towards the unitary 'collective -consciousness' of the whole organism, which thus exists beside, but not -independently of, these rudimentary consciousnesses of the cells. If the -view be accepted, it affords a close analogy with the supposed -'collective consciousness' of a group of men or a society. - -This conception of the collective nature of the consciousness of complex -organisms finds strong support in two classes of facts. First, it finds -support in the fact that, if individuals of many of the animal species -of an intermediate grade of complexity, such as some of the worms and -some of the radiate animals, be cut into two or more parts, each part -may continue to live and may become a complete organism by -reconstitution of the lost parts. Since, then, we can hardly deny some -integrated psychical life to such organisms, some rudimentary -consciousness, we seem compelled to believe that this consciousness may -be divided into two or more consciousnesses, each of them being -associated with the vital activities of one of the parts into which the -organism is divided by the knife. Division of the organism into two -parts is also the normal mode of reproduction in the animal world. Even -the coming into existence of every human being seems to be bound up with -the separation of a cell from the parent organism; and his existence as -a separate psychical individual seems to result from the same process of -physical division. And if one cell, when thus separated from the parent -organism, can thus prove its possession of a psychical life by -developing into a fully conscious organism, it is difficult to deny that -all other cells have also their own psychical lives, even though they -may be incapable of making it manifest to us by growing up into complex -organisms when separated. - -The second class of facts that seem to justify this conception of the -consciousness of complex organisms are facts which have been studied and -discussed widely in recent years under the head of mental dissociation -or disintegration of personalities. Such disintegration seems to occur -spontaneously as the essential feature of severe hysteria, and to be -producible artificially and temporarily in some subjects, when they are -thrown into deep hypnosis. In certain of these cases the behaviour of -the human being seems to imply that it is the expression of two separate -psychical individuals, formed by the splitting of the stream of -consciousness and of mental activity of the individual into two streams. -The two streams may be of co-ordinate complexity; but more frequently -one of them seems to be a mere trickle diverted from the main stream of -personal consciousness. Since it is, from the nature of the case, always -impossible to obtain any direct and certain proof that any behaviour -other than one's own is the expression of conscious mental processes, it -is not possible to prove that such division or disintegration of the -personal consciousness actually takes place. But the facts appear to -many of the psychologists who have studied them most carefully[20] to -demand this interpretation; and this psychical disintegration seems to -be accompanied by a functional dissociation of the nervous system into -two or more systems each of which functions independently of the -others,--that is to say, a division of the nervous system comparable with -the division of the nervous system of the worm by the stroke of the -knife which seems to split the psychical individual into two. - -The facts of both these orders would appear, then, to indicate that the -physical organisation of the cells of a complex organism is accompanied -by an organisation of their psychical lives to form a 'collective -consciousness,' which in the human being becomes a personal -self-consciousness; and they would seem to show that the unity of -personal consciousness has for its main condition the functional -continuity of the protoplasm of the cells of the nervous system. - -Even before the facts of disintegration of personalities were known, -several authors, notably von Hartmann[21] and G. T. Fechner[22], did not -hesitate to make this last assumption; and to assert that, if the brain -of a man could be divided by a knife into two parts each of which -continued to function, his consciousness would thus be divided into two -consciousnesses; and conversely, that, if a functional bridge of nervous -matter could be established between the brains of two men, their -consciousnesses would fuse to a single consciousness. The discovery of -these facts has greatly strengthened the case for this view; and it has -been accepted by so sound a psychologist and sober a philosopher as -Fouillée[23]. - -It may be claimed that the consideration of the nature and behaviour of -animal societies points to a similar conclusion, and supplements in an -important manner the argument founded on the divisibility of individual -organisms. Such a line of reasoning has been most thoroughly pursued by -Espinas in his very interesting book on animal societies[24]. He begins -by considering the lower polycellular forms of animal life. Among them, -especially among the hydrozoa or polypes, we find compound or colonial -animals; such an animal is a single living mass of which all the parts -are in substantial and vital connexion with one another, but is yet made -up of a number of parts each of which is morphologically a complete or -almost complete creature; and these parts, though specialised for the -performance of certain functions subserving the economy of the whole -animal or coherent group of animals, are yet capable, if separated from -the mass (as they sometimes are by a natural process), of continuing to -live, of growing, and of multiplying. There are found among such -creatures very various degrees of specialisation of parts and of -interdependence of parts; and in those cases in which the specialisation -and interdependence of parts is great, the whole compound animal -exhibits in its reactions so high a degree of integration that we seem -justified in supposing that a common or 'collective consciousness' is -the psychical correlate of these integrated actions of the separable -parts. Why then, it is asked, should this 'collective consciousness' -cease to be, when the substantial continuity of the parts is -interrupted? - -Espinas then goes on to describe animal societies of many types, and -shows how, as we follow up the evolutionary scale, association and -intimate interdependence and co-operation of their members tend to -replace more and more completely the individualistic antagonism and -unmitigated competition of the lowest free-living organisms. He -considers first the type of animal society which is essentially a -family, a society of individuals all of which are derived from the same -parent by fission or by budding. He argues that each such society of -blood-relatives is a harmonious whole only because it enjoys a -'collective consciousness' over and above the consciousnesses of its -constituent members; that, for example, a swarm of bees, which exhibits -so great a uniformity of feeling and action and of which all the members -come from the body of one parent, is in reality the material basis of a -'collective consciousness,' which presides over and is expressed by -their collective actions; that the ants of one household have such a -collective consciousness, that they "are, in truth, a single thought in -action, like the various cellules and fibres of the brain of a mammal." -For, as he maintains, "the consciousness of animals is not an absolute, -indivisible thing. It is on the contrary a reality capable of being -divided and diffused ... thought in general and the impulses illuminated -by it, are, like the forces of nature, susceptible of diffusion, of -transmission, of being shared, and can like these lie dormant where they -are thinly diffused, or become vivid and intensified by concentration. -The beings that have these attributes are no doubt monads; but these -monads are open to and communicate with one another." - -Espinas extends the view to other animal societies of which the members -are not all derived from one parent, including human societies; and -concludes that, except in the case of the Infusoria at the bottom of the -scale and of the highly organised societies at the top of it, every -individual consciousness is a part of a superior more comprehensive -consciousness of an individual of a higher order. He illustrates at -length the fact with the consideration and explanation of which this -chapter is concerned, the fact namely that, in all social groups, -emotions and impulses are communicated and intensified from one -individual to another; and he asks--"If the essential elements of -consciousness add themselves together and accumulate from one -consciousness to another, how should the consciousness itself of the -whole not be participated in by each?" He argues that to be real is not -to be known to some other consciousness, but is to exist for oneself, to -be conscious of oneself; that, in this sense, the 'collective -consciousness' of a society is the most real of all things; that every -society is therefore a living individual; and that, if we deny -self-conscious individuality to a society, we must deny it equally to -the mass of cells that make up an animal body; that, in short, we can -find unity and individuality nowhere. - -This doctrine of the 'collective consciousness' of societies may seem -bizarre to those to whom it is altogether novel; but it is one that -cannot be lightly put aside; it demands serious consideration from any -one who seeks the general principles of Collective Psychology. We have -no certain knowledge from which its impossibility can be deduced; and -the new light thrown upon individuality by modern studies in -psycho-pathology shows us that the indivisibility and strictly bounded -unity of the individual human soul is a postulate that we must not -continue to accept without critical examination. Nor is the conception -one that figures only in the writings of philosophers and therefore to -be regarded with contemptuous indulgence by men of affairs as but one of -the strange harmless foibles of such persons. It has a certain vogue in -more popular writings; thus Renan wrote--"It has been remarked that in -face of a peril a nation or a city shows, like a living creature, a -divination of the common danger, a secret sentiment of its own being and -the need of its conservation. Such is the obscure impulsion which -provokes from time to time the displacement of a whole people or the -emigration of masses, the crusades, the religious, political, or social -revolutions." Phrases such as the soul of a people, the genius of a -people, have long been current, and in almost every newspaper one may -find important events and tendencies ascribed to the instinct of a -people. It is probable that these phrases are written in many instances -without any explicit intention to imply a 'collective national -consciousness,' but merely as well-sounding words that cloak our -ignorance and give a vague appearance of understanding. Nevertheless, -from its application to the life of nations, the doctrine of a -collective consciousness mainly derives its importance. It is seriously -used by a number of vigorous contemporary writers, of whom Schaeffle[25] -is perhaps the most notable, to carry to its extreme the doctrine of -Comte and Spencer that Society is an organism. Spencer specifically -refused to complete his analogy between society and an animal organism -by the acceptance of the hypothesis of a collective consciousness; and -he insisted strongly on the importance, for legislation and social -effort of every kind, of holding fast to the consciousness of -individual men as the final court of appeal, by reference to which the -value of every institution and every form of social activity must be -judged, the importance of regarding the welfare and happiness of -individual men as the supreme end, in relation to which the welfare of -the State is but a means. But those who, like Schaeffle, complete the -analogy by acceptance of this hypothesis, regard a nation as an organism -in the fullest sense of the word, as an organism that has its own -pleasure and pain and its own conscious ends and purposes and strivings; -as in fact a great individual which is conscious and may be more or less -perfectly self-conscious, conscious of itself, its past, its future, its -purposes, its joys and its sorrows. And they do not scruple to draw the -logical conclusion that the welfare of the individual should be -completely subjected to that of the State; just as the welfare of an -organ or cell of the human body is rightly held to be of infinitesimal -value in comparison with that of the whole individual and to derive its -importance only from its share in the constitution of the whole. This -conception of the 'collective consciousness' has thus been used as one -of the supports of 'Prussianism' and has played its part in bringing -about the Great War with all its immense mass of individual anguish. - -We must, then, examine the arguments upon which the doctrine is based, -and ask--Do they suffice to render it probable, or to compel our -acceptance of it, and to justify the complete subjection of the -individual to the State? - -We have seen that a strong case is made out for the view that the -consciousness of a complex organism is the 'collective consciousness' of -all its cells, or of the cells of its nervous system; and it must be -admitted that, if this view could be definitely established, it would go -far to justify the doctrine of the collective consciousness of -societies. Yet the view is by no means established; there are great -difficulties in the way of its acceptance. There is the difficulty which -meets a doctrine of 'collective consciousness' in all its forms from -that of Haeckel to that of Hegel,--the difficulty that the consciousness -of the units is used twice over, once as the individual consciousness, -once as an element entering into the collective consciousness; and no -one has been able to suggest how this difficulty can be surmounted. It -has been argued also, most forcibly perhaps by Lotze[26], that what we -know of the structure and functions of the brain compels us to adopt a -very different interpretation of the facts. It is said that, since we -cannot find any evidence of a unitary brain-process that might be -regarded as the immediate physical correlate of the unitary stream of -consciousness of the individual, but find rather that the physical -correlate of the individual's consciousness at any moment is a number of -discrete processes taking place simultaneously in anatomical elements -widely scattered in different parts of the brain, we are compelled to -assume that each of these acts upon some unitary substance, some -immaterial entity (which may be called the soul) producing a partial -affection of its state. According to this view, then, the consciousness -of any moment is the unitary resultant of all these influences -simultaneously exerted on the soul, the unitary reaction of the soul -upon these many influences[27]. - -But, even if we could accept the view that the consciousness of the -complex organism is the 'collective consciousness' of its cells, the -analogy between an organism and a society, which constitutes the -argument for the 'collective consciousness' of a society, would remain -defective in one very important respect. If we accept that view, we must -believe that the essential condition of the fusion of the -consciousnesses of the cells is their spatial continuity, no matter how -utterly unintelligible this condition may seem; for the apparent -disruption of consciousness on the solution of material continuity -between the cells is the principal ground on which this view is founded. -Now, no such continuity of substance exists between the members of any -human group or society, and its absence constitutes a fatal flaw in the -analogical argument. - -If we pass by these serious difficulties, others arise as soon as we -inquire what kinds of human groups have such 'collective consciousness.' -Does the simple fortuitously gathered crowd possess it? Or is it -confined to highly organised groups such as the leading modern nations? -If every psychological crowd possesses it and owes its peculiarities of -behaviour to it, does it come into being at the moment the individuals -have their attention attracted to a common object and begin to be -stirred by a common emotion? And does it cease to be as soon as the -crowd is resolved into its elements? Or, if it is confined to nations or -other highly organised groups, at what stage of their development does -it come into being, and what are the limits of the groups of which it is -the 'collective consciousness'? Do the Poles share in the 'collective -consciousness' of the German nation, or the Bavarians in that of -Prussia? Or do the Irish or the Welsh contribute their share to that of -the English nation? - -Coming now to close quarters with the doctrine, we may ask those who, -like Schaeffle and Espinas, regard the 'collective consciousness' as a -bond which unites the members of a society and makes of them one living -individual,--Is this 'collective consciousness' merely epiphenomenal in -character? Or are we to regard it as reacting upon the consciousnesses -or minds of the individuals of the group, and, through such reaction, -playing a part in determining the behaviour of the group, or rather of -the individuals of which the group is composed? For the actions of the -group are merely the sum of the actions of its individuals. If the -former alternative be adopted, then we may confidently say that the -existence of a 'collective consciousness' must from the nature of the -case remain a mere speculation, incapable of verification; and that, if -it does exist, since it cannot make any difference, cannot in any way -affect human life and conduct, it is for us unreal, no matter how real -it may be for itself, as Espinas maintains; and we certainly are not -called upon to have any regard for it or its happiness, nor can we -invoke its aid in attempting to explain the course of history and the -phenomena of social life. If, on the other hand, the 'collective -consciousness' of groups and societies and peoples reacts upon -individual minds and so plays a part in shaping the conduct of men and -societies, then the conception is a hypothesis which can only be -justified by showing that it affords explanations of social phenomena -which in its absence remain inexplicable. If it were found that social -aggregates of any kind really do exhibit, as has often been maintained, -great mass-movements, emigrations, religious or political uprisings, and -so forth, for which no adequate explanations can be found in the mental -processes of individuals and the mental interactions of individuals by -the ordinary means of expression and perception, a resort to some such -hypothesis would be permissible; but it is an offence against the -principles of scientific method to invoke its aid, before we have -exhausted the possibilities of explanation offered by well-known -existents and forces. That certainly has not yet been done, and the -upholders of the doctrine have hardly made any attempt to justify it in -this the only possible manner in which it could be justified. The only -evidence of this sort adduced by Espinas is the rapid spread of a common -emotion and impulse throughout the members of animal and human groups; -and of such phenomenon we have already found a sufficient explanation in -those special adaptations of the instincts of all gregarious creatures -which are unmistakably implied by the way in which the expression of an -emotion directly evokes a display of the same emotion in any onlooking -member of the species. - -We may, then, set aside the conception of a 'collective consciousness' -as a hypothesis to be held in reserve until the study of group life -reveal phenomena that cannot be explained without its aid. For it may be -confidently asserted that up to the present time no such evidence of a -'collective consciousness' has been brought forward, and that there is -no possibility of any such evidence being obtained before the principles -of social psychology have been applied far more thoroughly than has yet -been done to the explanation of the course of history. In adopting a so -far unsympathetic attitude towards this doctrine, we ought to admit -that, if there be any truth in it, the 'collective consciousness' of -even the most highly organised society may be still in a rudimentary -stage, and that it may continue to gain in effectiveness and -organisation with the further evolution of the society in question. - -After this digression we may return to the consideration of the -emotional characteristics of simple crowds. We have to notice not only -that the emotions of crowds are apt to be excessively strong, but also -that certain types of emotion are more apt than others to spread through -a crowd, namely the coarser simpler emotions and those which do not -imply the existence of developed and refined sentiments. For many of the -individuals of most crowds will be incapable of the more subtle complex -emotions and will be devoid of the more refined sentiments; while such -sentiments as the individuals possess will be in the main more diverse -in proportion to their refinement and special character; hence the -chances of any crowd being homogeneous as regards these emotions and -sentiments is small. Whereas the primary emotions and the coarser -sentiments may be common to all the members of a crowd; any crowd is -likely to be homogeneous in respect to them. - -On the other hand, a crowd is more apt to be swayed by the more generous -of the coarser emotions, impulses, and sentiments than by those of a -meaner universally reprobated kind. For each member of the crowd acts -in full publicity; and his knowledge of, and regard for, public opinion -will to some extent incline him to suppress the manifestation of -feelings which he might indulge in private but would be ashamed of in -public. Hence a crowd is more readily carried away by admiration for a -noble deed, or by moral indignation against an act of cruelty, than by -self-pity or jealousy or envy or a meanly vengeful emotion. - -At the same time, a crowd is apt to express feelings which imply less -consideration and regard for others than the individual, representing -the average morality and refinement of its members, would display when -not under the influence of the crowd. Thus men, when members of a crowd, -will witness with enjoyment scenes of brutality and suffering which, -under other circumstances, they would turn away from, or would seek to -terminate. To see a man thrown heavily to the ground is not pleasing to -most individuals; yet the spectacle provokes roars of delight from the -crowd at a football match. How many of the spectators, who, as members -of a crowd, hugely enjoy looking on at a prize-fight or a bull-fight, -would shrink from witnessing it as isolated individuals! How many boys -will join with a crowd of others in cruelly teasing another boy, an -animal, an old woman, or a drunken man, who individually are incapable -of such 'thoughtless' conduct! It may be doubted whether even the -depraved population of Imperial Rome could have individually witnessed -without aversion the destruction of Christians in the Coliseum. - -This character of crowds seems to be due to two peculiarities of the -collective mental state. In the first place, the individual, in becoming -one of a crowd, loses in some degree his self-consciousness, his -awareness of himself as a distinct personality, and with it goes also -something of his consciousness of his specifically personal relations; -he becomes to a certain extent depersonalised. In the second place, and -intimately connected with this last change, is a diminution of the sense -of personal responsibility: the individual feels himself enveloped and -overshadowed and carried away by forces which he is powerless to -control; he therefore does not feel called upon to maintain the attitude -of self-criticism and self-restraint which under ordinary circumstances -are habitual to him, his more refined ideals of behaviour fail to assert -themselves against the overwhelming forces that envelope him. - - -THE INTELLECTUAL PROCESSES OF SIMPLE CROWDS - -No fact has been more strongly insisted upon by writers on the -psychology of crowds than the low degree of intelligence implied by -their collective actions. Not only mobs or simple crowds, but such -bodies as juries, committees, corporations of all sorts, which are -partially organised groups, are notoriously liable to pass judgments, to -form decisions, to enact rules or laws, so obviously erroneous, unwise, -or defective that anyone, even the least intelligent member of the group -concerned, might have been expected to produce a better result. - -The principal ground of the low order of intelligence displayed by -simple crowds is that the ideas and reasonings which can be collectively -understood and accepted must be such as can be appreciated by the lower -order of minds among the crowd. These least intelligent minds bring down -the intelligence of the whole to their own level. This is true in some -degree even of crowds composed of highly educated persons; for, as in -the case of the emotions and sentiments, the higher faculties are always -more or less specialised and differentiated in various ways through -differences of nurture and training; whereas the simpler intellectual -faculties and tendencies are common to all men. - -A second condition, which co-operates with the foregoing to keep the -intellectual processes of crowds at a low level, is the increased -suggestibility of its members. Here is one of the most striking facts of -collective mental life. A crowd impresses each of its members with a -sense of its power, its unknown capacities, its unlimited and mysterious -possibilities; and these, as I have shown in Chapter III of my _Social -Psychology_, are the attributes that excite in us the instinct of -subjection and so throw us into the receptive suggestible attitude -towards the object that displays them. Mere numbers are capable of -exerting this effect upon most of us; but the effect of numbers is -greatly increased if all display a common emotion and speak with one -voice; the crowd has then, if we are in its presence, a well nigh -irresistible prestige. Hence even the highly intelligent and -self-reliant member of a crowd is apt to find his critical reserve -broken down; and, when an orator makes some proposition which the mass -of the crowd applauds but which each more intelligent member would as an -individual reject with scorn, it is apt to be uncritically accepted by -all alike; because it comes to each, not as the proposition of the -orator alone, but as a proposition which voices the mind of the crowd, -which comes from the mass of men he sees around him and so comes with -the power of a mass-suggestion. - -A further ground of the suggestibility of the crowd is that prevalence -of emotional excitement which was discussed in the foregoing pages. It -is well recognised that almost any emotional excitement increases the -suggestibility of the individual, though the explanation of the fact -remains obscure. I have suggested that the explanation is to be found in -the principle of the vicarious usage of nervous energy, the principle -that nervous energy, liberated in any one part of the nervous system, -may overflow the channels of the system in which it is liberated and -re-enforce processes initiated in other systems. If this be true, we can -see how any condition of excitement will favour suggestibility; for it -will re-enforce whatever idea or impulse may have been awakened and made -dominant by 'suggestion.' The principle requires perhaps the following -limitation. Emotion which is finding outlet in well-directed action is -probably unfavourable to all such 'suggestions' as are not congruent -with its tendencies. It is vague emotion, or such as finds no -appropriate expression in action, that favours suggestibility. The most -striking illustrations of the greatly increased suggestibility of crowds -are afforded by well-authenticated instances of collective -hallucination, instances which, so long as we fail to take into account -the abnormal suggestibility of the members of crowds, seem utterly -mysterious, incredible, and super-normal. - -Again, the capacity of crowds to arrive at correct conclusions by any -process of reasoning is apt to be diminished in another way by the -exaltation of emotion to which, as we have seen, they are peculiarly -liable. It is a familiar fact that correct observation and reasoning are -hampered by emotion; for all ideas congruent with the prevailing emotion -come far more readily to consciousness and persist more stably than -ideas incongruent with it, and conclusions congruent with the prevailing -emotion and desire are accepted readily and uncritically; whereas those -opposed to them can hardly find acceptance in the minds of most men, no -matter how simple and convincing be the reasoning that leads to them. - -The diminution or abolition of the sense of personal responsibility, -which results from membership in a crowd and which, as we have seen, -favours the display of its emotions, tends also to lower the level of -its intellectual processes. Wherever men have to come to a collective -decision or to undertake collective action of any sort, this effect -plays an important part. The weight of responsibility that would be -felt by any one man, deciding or acting alone, is apt to be divided -among all the members of the group; so that for each man it is -diminished in proportion to the number of persons taking part in the -affair. Hence the attention and care devoted by each man to the task of -deliberation, observation, or execution, are less keen and continuously -sustained, and a judgment or decision is more lightly and easily arrived -at, grounds which the individual, deliberating alone, would reject or -weigh again and again serving to determine an immediate judgment. The -principle is well recognised in practical life. We do not set ten men to -keep the look-out on ship-board, but only one; though the safety of the -ship and of all that it carries depends upon his unremitting alertness. -We see the principle recognised in the institution of the jury. But for -the weakening of the individual sense of responsibility, juries would -seldom be found capable of finding a prisoner guilty of murder and so -condemning him to death; while, by the restriction of the jury to a -comparatively small number, the worst features of collective mental life -are avoided. - -We see the working of the principle not only in simple crowds, but also -in groups of very considerable degrees of organisation. We see it in the -way in which many a man, who would shrink from the responsibility of -directing a great and complicated commercial undertaking, will -cheerfully join a board of directors each of whom is perhaps no better -qualified than himself to conduct the business of the concern. We may -recognise its effects also in the cheerful levity, not to say hilarity, -that frequently pervades our House of Commons; for most of its -well-meaning members would be utterly crushed under the weight of their -legislative responsibility, were it not divided in small fractions among -them. - -But the low sense of responsibility of the crowd is not due to the -division of responsibility alone. In the case of the simple crowd, it is -due also in large part to the fact that such a crowd has but a very low -grade of self-consciousness and no self-regarding sentiment; that is to -say, the members of the crowd have but a dim consciousness of the crowd -as a whole, but very little knowledge of its tendencies and capacities, -and no sentiment of love, respect, or regard of any kind for it and its -reputation in the eyes of men. Hence, since the responsibility falls on -the whole crowd, and any loss or gain of reputation affects the crowd -and hardly at all the individuals who are merged in it, they are not -stimulated to exert care and self-restraint and critical deliberation in -forming their judgments, in arriving at decisions, or in executing any -task collectively undertaken. The results of these two conditions of -collective mental life are well summed up in the popular dictum that a -corporation has no conscience. - -Since all these factors co-operate to keep the intellectual activity of -the simple crowd on a low level, it follows that very simple -intellectual processes must be relied on by the orator who would sway a -crowd; he must rely on abuse and ridicule of opponents, or unmeasured -praise of friends; on flattery; on the _argumentum ad hominem_; on -induction by simple enumeration of a few striking instances; on obvious -and superficial analogies; on the evocation of vivid representative -imagery rather than of abstract ideas; and, above all, on confident -assertion and reiteration, and on a display of the coarser emotions. - -Since the individuals comprised in a crowd are apt to be influenced in -all these ways by the mass of their fellows, it follows that the mental -processes, the thoughts and feelings and actions, of each one will be as -a rule very different from what they would be if he faced a similar -situation as an isolated individual; the mental processes of each one -are profoundly modified by his mental interactions with all the other -members of the crowd. Therefore the collective actions of a crowd are -not simply the resultants of all the tendencies to thought and action of -the individuals, as such, but may be very different from any such -resultant. And they are not merely the expression of the individual -tendencies of the average member, nor yet of the mass of least -intelligent and refined members; they may be, and often are, such as no -one of the members acting alone would ever display or attempt. - -It must be added that all the peculiarities of collective mental process -mentioned above express themselves very readily in the actions of simple -crowds, because such a crowd is incapable of resolution and volition in -the true sense of the words. I have shown[28] that individual resolution -and volition are only rendered possible by the possession of a -well-developed self-consciousness and self-regarding sentiment. But a -simple crowd has at the most only a rudimentary self-consciousness and -has no self-regarding sentiment. Hence its actions are the direct issue -of the various impulses that are collectively evoked; and, though it may -be collectively conscious of the end towards which it is impelled, and -though all the individuals may desire to effect or realise this end, and -to that extent may be said to be capable of purpose; yet such an -impulse or desire cannot be steadied, strengthened, renewed, or -supported and maintained, in opposition to any other impulse that may -come into play, by an impulse springing from the self-regarding -sentiment in the way which constitutes resolution and volition. Just so -far as the self-regarding sentiment of individuals comes into play and -they exert their individual volitions, they cease to act as members of a -crowd. The actions of the simple crowd are thus not the outcome of a -general will, nor are they the resultant of the wills of all its -members; they are simply not volitional in the true sense, but rather -impulsive. They are comparable with the actions of an animal rather than -with those of a man. It is the lack of the conditions necessary to -collective resolution and volition that renders a crowd so fickle and -inconsistent; so capable of passing from one extreme of action to -another, of hurrying to death the man whom it glorified at an earlier -moment, or of turning from savage butchery to tender and tearful -solicitude. Such incapacity of the crowd for resolution and volition, -together with the increased suggestibility of its members, accounts for -the fact that a crowd may be easily induced to follow as a leader any -one who, by means of the elementary reasoning processes suited to its -intellectual capacity, can succeed in suggesting to it the desirability -of any course of action. - -We may sum up the psychological characters of the unorganised or simple -crowd by saying that it is excessively emotional, impulsive, violent, -fickle, inconsistent, irresolute and extreme in action, displaying only -the coarser emotions and the less refined sentiments; extremely -suggestible, careless in deliberation, hasty in judgment, incapable of -any but the simpler and imperfect forms of reasoning; easily swayed and -led, lacking in self-consciousness, devoid of self-respect and of sense -of responsibility, and apt to be carried away by the consciousness of -its own force, so that it tends to produce all the manifestations we -have learnt to expect of any irresponsible and absolute power. Hence its -behaviour is like that of an unruly child or an untutored passionate -savage in a strange situation, rather than like that of its average -member; and in the worst cases it is like that of a wild beast, rather -than like that of human beings. - -All these characteristics of the crowd were exemplified on a great scale -in Paris at the time of the great revolution, when masses of men that -were little more than unorganised crowds escaped from all control and -exerted supreme power; and writers on the topic have drawn many -striking illustrations from the history of the days of the Terror[29]. -The understanding of these more elementary facts and principles of group -psychology will prevent us falling into such an error as was committed -by our greatest political philosopher, Edmund Burke, when he condemned -the French people in the most violent terms on account of the terrible -events of the Revolution; for he attributed to the inhabitants of France -in general, as individuals, the capacities for violence and brutality -and the gross defects of intelligence and self-restraint that were -displayed by the Parisian crowds of the time; whereas the study of -collective psychology has led us to see that the actions of a crowd -afford no measure of the moral and intellectual status of the -individuals of which it is composed. So, when we hear of minor outrages -committed by a crowd of undergraduates or suffragettes, a knowledge of -group psychology will save us from the error of attributing to the -individuals concerned the low grade of intelligence and decency that -might seem to be implied by the deeds performed by them collectively. -The same understanding will also resolve for us some seeming paradoxes; -for example, the paradox that, while in the year 1906 the newspapers -contained many reports of almost incredible brutalities committed by the -peasants in many different parts of Russia, an able correspondent, who -was studying the peasants at that very time, ascribed to them, as the -most striking quality of their characters, an exceptional humaneness and -kindliness[30]. - -It will be maintained on a later page that we may properly speak not -only of a collective will, but also of the collective mind of an -organised group, for example, of the mind and will of a nation. We must, -then, ask at this stage--Can we properly speak of the collective mind of -an unorganised crowd? The question is merely one as to the proper use of -words and therefore not of the first importance. If we had found reason -to accept the hypothesis of a 'collective consciousness' of a group, and -to believe that the peculiarities of behaviour of a crowd are due to a -'collective consciousness,' then we should certainly have to admit the -propriety of regarding the crowd as having a collective mind. But we -have provisionally rejected that hypothesis, and have maintained that -the only consciousness of a crowd or other group is the consciousnesses -of its constituent individuals. In the absence of any 'collective -consciousness' we may still speak of collective minds; for we have -defined a mind as an organised system of interacting mental or psychical -forces. This definition, while allowing us to speak of the collective -mind of such a group as a well-developed nation, hardly allows us to -attribute such a mind to a simple crowd: for the interplay of its mental -forces is not determined by the existence of an organised system of -relations between the elements in which the forces are generated; and -such determination is an essential feature of whatever can be called a -mind. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -THE HIGHLY ORGANISED GROUP - - -The peculiarities of simple crowds tend to appear in all group life; but -they are modified in proportion as the group is removed in character -from a simple crowd, a fortuitous congregation of men of more or less -similar tendencies and sentiments. Many crowds are not fortuitous -gatherings, but are brought together by the common interest of their -members in some object or topic. These may differ from the simple -fortuitous crowd only in being more homogeneous as regards the -sentiments and interests of their members; their greater homogeneity -does not in itself raise them above the mental level of the fortuitous -crowd; it merely intensifies the peculiarities of group life, especially -as regards the intensity of the collective emotion. - -There is, however, one condition that may raise the behaviour of a -temporary and unorganised crowd to a higher plane, namely the presence -of a clearly defined common purpose in the minds of all its members. -Such a crowd, for example a crowd of white men in one of the Southern -States of North America setting out to lynch a negro who is supposed to -have committed some flagrant crime, will display most of the -characteristics of the common crowd, the violence and brutality of -emotion and impulse, the lack of restraint, the diminished sense of -responsibility, the increased suggestibility and incapacity for arriving -at correct conclusions by deliberation and the weighing of evidence. But -it will not exhibit the fickleness of a common crowd, the easy yielding -to distracting impressions and to suggestions that are opposed to the -common purpose. Such a crowd may seize and execute its victim with -inflexible determination, perhaps with a brutality and a ruthless -disregard of all deterrent considerations of which no one of its members -would be individually capable; and may then at once break up, each man -returning quietly and seriously to his home, in a way which has often -been described by witnesses astonished at the contrast between the -behaviour of the crowd and that of the individuals into which it -suddenly resolves itself. - -The behaviour of a crowd of this kind raises the problem of the general -or collective will. It was said in the foregoing chapter that the -actions of a common crowd cannot properly be regarded as volitional, -because they are the immediate outcome of the primary impulses. Yet the -actions of a crowd of the kind we are now considering are the issue of -true resolutions formed by each member of the crowd, and are, therefore, -truly volitional. Nevertheless, they are the expression not of a general -or collective will, but merely of the wills of all the individuals; and, -even if there arise differences between the members and a conflict of -wills as to the mode of achieving the common end, and if the issue be -determined simply by the stronger party overbearing the weaker and -securing their co-operation, that still does not constitute the -expression of a general will. For a collective or general will only -exists where some idea of the whole group and some sentiment for it as -such exists in the minds of the persons composing it. But we may with -advantage examine the nature of collective volition on a later page, in -relation to the life of a highly organised group, such as an army. - -There are five conditions of principal importance in raising collective -mental life to a higher level than the unorganised crowd can reach, no -matter how homogeneous the crowd may be in ideas and sentiments nor how -convergent the desires and volitions of its members. These are the -principal conditions which favour and render possible the formation of a -group mind, in addition to those more fundamental conditions of -collective life which we have noted in the foregoing chapter. - -The first of these conditions, which is the basis of all the rest, is -some degree of continuity of existence of the group. The continuity may -be predominantly material or formal; that is to say, it may consist -either in the persistence of the same individuals as an -intercommunicating group, or in the persistence of the system of -generally recognised positions each of which is occupied by a succession -of individuals. Most permanent groups exhibit both forms of continuity -in a certain degree; for, the material continuity of a group being -given, some degree of formal continuity will commonly be established -within it. The most highly organised groups, such as well-developed -nations, exhibit both forms in the highest degree. - -A second very important condition, essential to any highly developed -form of collective life, is that in the minds of the mass of the members -of the group there shall be formed some adequate idea of the group, of -its nature, composition, functions, and capacities, and of the relations -of the individuals to the group. The diffusion of this idea among the -members of the group, which constitutes the self-consciousness of the -group mind, would be of little effect or importance, if it were not -that, as with the idea of the individual self, a sentiment of some kind -almost inevitably becomes organised about this idea and is the main -condition of its growth in richness of meaning; a sentiment for the -group which becomes the source of emotions and of impulses to action -having for their objects the group and its relations to other groups. - -A third condition very favourable to the development of the collective -mind of a group, though not perhaps absolutely essential, is the -interaction (especially in the form of conflict and rivalry) of the -group with other similar groups animated by different ideals and -purposes, and swayed by different traditions and customs. The importance -of such interaction of groups lies chiefly in the fact that it greatly -promotes the self-knowledge and self-sentiment of each group. - -Fourthly, the existence of a body of traditions and customs and habits -in the minds of the members of the group determining their relations to -one another and to the group as a whole. - -Lastly, organisation of the group, consisting in the differentiation and -specialisation of the functions of its constituents--the individuals and -classes or groups of individuals within the group. This organisation may -rest wholly or in part upon the conditions of the fourth class, -traditions, customs, and habits. But it may be in part imposed on the -group and maintained by the authority of some external power. - -The capacity for collective life of an organised group whose -organisation is imposed upon it and wholly maintained by an external -authority is but little superior to that of a simple crowd. Such a group -will differ from the simple crowd chiefly in exhibiting greater control -of its impulses and a greater continuity of direction of its activities; -but these qualities are due to the external compelling power and are not -truly the expression of its collective mental life. An army of slaves -or, in a less complete degree, an army of mercenaries is the type of -this kind of organised group; and a people ruled by a strong despot -relying on a mercenary or foreign army approximates to it. The first aim -of the power that would maintain such an organisation must always be to -prevent and suppress collective life, by forbidding gatherings and -public discussions, by rendering communications between the parts -difficult, and by enforcing a rigid discipline. For such an organisation -is essentially unstable. - -We may illustrate the influence of these five conditions by considering -how in a group of relatively simple kind, in which they are all -present, they favour collective life and raise it to a higher level of -efficiency. Such a group is a patriot army fighting in a cause that -elicits the enthusiasm of its members; such were the armies of Japan in -the late Russo-Japanese war; they exhibited in a high degree and in -relative simplicity the operation of all the conditions we have -enumerated. - -Such an army exhibits the exaltation of emotion common to all -psychological crowds. This intensification of emotion enables men to -face danger and certain death with enthusiasm, and on other occasions -may, even in the armies of undoubtedly courageous and warlike nations, -result in panic and a rout. But in all other respects the -characteristics of the simple crowd are profoundly modified. The formal -continuity of the existence of the army and of its several units secures -for it, even though its personnel be changed at a rapid rate, a past and -therefore a tradition, a self-consciousness and a self-regarding -sentiment, a pride in its past and a tradition of high conduct and -achievement; for past failures are discreetly forgotten and only its -past successes and glories are kept in memory. The traditional group -consciousness and sentiment are fostered by every wise commander, both -in the army as a whole and in each separate department and regiment. Is -not the superiority in battle of such bodies as the famous Tenth Legion -due as much to such self-conscious tradition and sentiment as to the -presence of veterans in its ranks? And is not the same true of such -regiments as the Black Watch, the Gordons, the Grenadier Guards, and the -other famous regiments of the British army? - -The third of the conditions mentioned above is also very obviously -present in the case of an army in the field--namely, interaction with a -similar group having different purposes, traditions, and sentiments. And -in this case the interaction, being of the nature of direct competition -and conflict, is of the kind most favourable to the development of the -collective mind. It accentuates the self-consciousness of the whole; -that is to say, it defines more clearly in the mind of each individual -the whole of which he is a part, his position in, his organic connexion -with, and his dependence upon, the whole; with each succeeding stage of -the conflict he conceives the whole more clearly, obtains a fuller -knowledge of the capacities and weaknesses of the whole and its parts. -Each soldier learns, too, something of the character of the opposing -army; and, in the light of this knowledge, his conception of his own -army becomes better defined and richer in meaning. In short, through -interaction with the opposing army, the army as a whole becomes more -clearly reflected in the mind of each of its members, its -self-consciousness is clarified and enriched. In a similar way, -intercourse and rivalry between the various regiments greatly promotes -the growth of the self-knowledge and self-sentiment of each of these -lesser groups. A standing army inevitably possesses a wealth of -traditions, habits and customs, over and above its formal organisation, -and these play an important part in promoting the smooth working of the -whole organism; the lack of these is one of the chief difficulties in -the way of the creation of a new army, as was vividly illustrated in the -making of the 'Kitchener army' during the Great War. The customs of the -various officers' messes were but a small part of this mass of custom -which does so much to bind the whole army together. - -An army obviously possesses organisation, generally in a very high -degree. The formal continuity of its existence enables the organisation -impressed upon it by external authority to acquire all the strength that -custom alone can give; while its material continuity enables its -organisation to generate, in the individual soldiers, habits through -which the inferior members are raised, as regards the moral qualities -required for efficiency in the field, towards the level of the best. - -The organisation of the whole army has two aspects and two main -functions; the one is executive, the securing of the co-ordination of -action of the parts in the carrying out of the common plan; the other is -recipient and deliberative, the co-ordination of the data supplied by -the parts through deliberation upon which the choice of means is arrived -at. Deliberation and choice of means are carried out by the -commander-in-chief and his staff, the persons who have shown themselves -best able to execute this part of the army's task. It is important to -note that, in the case of such an army as we are considering, the -private soldier in the ranks remains a free agent performing truly -volitional actions; that he in no sense becomes a mechanical agent or -one acting through enforced or habitual obedience merely. He wills the -common end; and, believing that the choice of means to that end is best -effected by the appropriate part of the whole organisation, he accepts -the means chosen, makes of them his proximate end, and wills them. - -This is the essential character of the effective organisation of any -human group; it secures that while the common end of collective action -is willed by all, the choice of means is left to those best qualified -and in the best position for deliberation and choice; and it secures -that co-ordination of the voluntary actions of the parts which brings -about the common end by the means so chosen. In this way the collective -actions of the well-organised group, instead of being, like those of the -simple crowd, merely impulsive or instinctive actions, implying a degree -of intelligence and of morality far inferior to that of the average -individual of the crowd, become truly volitional actions expressive of a -degree of intelligence and morality much higher than that of the average -member of the group: i.e. the whole is raised above the level of its -average member; and even, by reason of exaltation of emotion and -organised co-operation in deliberation, above that of its highest -members. - -Here we must consider a little more fully the nature of the collective -or general will, a subject that has figured largely in the discussions -of political philosophers on the nature of the State. Rousseau -wrote--"There is often a great difference between the will of all and the -general will; the latter looks only to the common interest; the former -looks to private interest, and is nothing but a series of individual -wills; but take away from these same wills the plus and minus that -cancel one another and there remains, as the sum of the differences, the -general will." "Sovereignty is only the exercise of the general will." -By this he seems to mean that a certain number of men will the general -good, while many will only their private goods; and that while the -latter neutralise one another, as regards their effects on the general -interest, the former co-operate and so form an effective force to -promote the general good. This doctrine was an approximation towards the -truth, though like all Rousseau's social speculations, his handling of -it was vitiated by his false psychology, which set out from the fiction -of man as an independent purely self-contained and self-determining -absolute individual. Later writers do not seem to have improved upon -Rousseau's doctrine of the general will to any great extent. - -The problem of the general will, like all problems of collective -psychology, becomes extremely complex when we consider the life of -nations; and it is, therefore, important to make ourselves clear as to -the nature of collective volition by consideration of the relatively -simple case of a patriot army. It is of course impossible to arrive at a -clear notion of collective volition, until individual volition has been -clearly defined and the nature of the distinction between it, on the one -hand, and mere impulsive action, desire, and simple conflict of desires, -on the other hand, has been made clear. The lack of such clear notions -and adequate definitions has rendered much of the discussion of this -topic by political philosophers sterile and obscure. In the light of the -conclusions reached in my chapter on individual volition[31], the -question of the nature of collective volition presents little -difficulty. It was found that volition may be defined and adequately -marked off from the simpler modes of conation by saying that it is the -reinforcement of any impulse or conation by one excited within the -system of the self-regarding sentiment. And in an earlier chapter[32] it -was shewn how the self-regarding sentiment may become extended to other -objects than the individual self, to all objects with which the self -identifies itself, which are regarded as belonging to the self or as -part of the wider self. This extension depends largely on the fact that -others identify us with such an object, so that we feel ourselves to be -an object of all the regards and attitudes and actions of others -directed towards that object, and are emotionally affected by them in -the same ways that we are affected by similar regards, attitudes, and -actions directed towards us individually. It was shewn also that such a -sentiment may become wider and emotionally richer than the purely -self-regarding sentiment, through fusing with a sentiment of love for -the object that has grown up independently. These facts were illustrated -by consideration of the parental sentiment for the child, which, it was -said, has commonly this twofold character and source, being formed by -the compounding of the self-regarding sentiment with the sentiment of -love of which the dominant disposition is that of the tender or -protective instinct. - -In a similar way a similarly complex sentiment may become organised -about the idea of one's family, or of any still larger group having -continuity of existence of which one becomes a member. In the case of -the patriot's sentiment for his country or nation, the self-regarding -sentiment and the sentiment of love may be from the first combined in -the patriotic sentiment; since he knows himself to be a part of the -whole from the time that an idea of the whole first takes shape in his -mind. - -In this respect the case of the soldier in a patriot army is relatively -simple. As a boy he may have acquired a sentiment of loving admiration -for the army; and, when he becomes a member of it, the dispositions that -enter into the constitution of his self-regarding sentiment, become -incorporated with this previously existing sentiment, so that the -reputation of the army becomes as important to him as his own; praise -and approval of it become for him objects of desire and sources of -elation; disapproval and blame of it, or the prospect of them, affect -him as painfully as if directed to himself individually, fill him with -shame and mortification. - -A similar complex sentiment, the sentiment of patriotism, becomes -organised about the idea of his country as a whole; and, when war breaks -out and the army is pitted against that of another nation, while the -eyes of the whole world are turned upon it, it becomes the -representative of the nation and the special object of the patriotic -sentiment, which thus adds its strength to that of the more special -sentiment of the soldier for the army[33]. When, then, the patriot army -takes the field, it is capable of collective volition in virtue of the -existence of this sentiment in the minds of all its members. The -soldiers of a purely mercenary army are moved by the desire of -individual glory, of increased pay, of loot, by the habit of obedience -and collective movement acquired by prolonged drilling, by the -pugnacious impulse, by the desire of self-preservation; and they may be -led on to greater exertions by the influence of an admired captain. But -such an army is incapable of collective volition, because no sentiment -for the army as a whole is common to all its members. The soldiers of -the patriot army on the other hand may act from all the individual -motives enumerated above; but all alike are capable also of being -stirred by a common motive, a desire excited within the collective -self-regarding sentiment, the common sentiment for the army; and this, -adding itself to whatever individual motives are operative, converts -their desires into collective resolutions and renders their actions the -expressions of a collective volition. - -Each soldier of the mercenary army may desire that his side shall win -the battle and may resolve that he will do his best to bring victory to -his side, and he may perform many truly volitional actions; and, in so -far as the actions of the army express these individual volitions -towards a common result, they are the expressions of the 'will of all,' -but not of the collective will; because these volitions, though they are -directed to the one common end, spring from diverse motives and are -individual volitions. - -The essence of collective volition is, then, not merely the direction of -the wills of all to the same end, but the motivation of the wills of all -members of a group by impulses awakened within the common sentiment for -the whole of which they are the parts. It is the extension of the -self-regarding sentiment of each member of the group to the group as a -whole that binds the group together and renders it a collective -individual capable of collective volition. - -The facts may be illustrated more concretely by taking a still simpler -example of collective volition. Consider the case of a regiment in -battle commanded to occupy a certain hill-top in face of fierce -opposition. If the regiment is one to which the self-regarding sentiment -of each member has become extended, the soldiers may be animated -individually by the pugnacious impulse and by the desire of individual -glory, but they are moved also by the common desire to show what the -regiment can do, to sustain its glorious reputation; they resolve that -we, the regiment, will accomplish this feat. As they charge up the hill, -the hail of bullets decimates their ranks and they waver, the impulse of -fear checking their onward rush; if then their officer appeals to the -common sentiment, each man feels the answering impulse; and this is -strengthened by the cheer which shows him that the same impulse rises in -all his comrades; and so this impulse, awakened within the collective -self-regarding sentiment and strengthened by sympathetic induction from -all to each, comes to the support of the pugnacious impulse or whatever -other motives sustain each man, enables these to triumph over the -impulse to flight, and sweeps them all on to gain their object by truly -collective volitional effort. If, on the other hand, the men of the -regiment have no such common sentiment, then, when the advancing line -wavers, the onward impulsion checked by the impulse of retreat, there is -no possibility of arousing a collective volition; the regiment, which -from the first was a crowd organised only by external authority and the -habits created by it, acts as a crowd and yields to the rising impulse -of the emotion of fear, which, becoming intensified by induction from -man to man, rises to a panic; and the regiment is routed. - -We may distinguish, then, five modes of conation which will carry all -the members of a group towards a common object, five levels of -collective action. - -Let the group be a body of men on a road leading across a wilderness to -a certain walled city. A sudden threat of danger from a band of robbers -or from wild beasts may send them all flying in panic towards the city -gate. That is a purely impulsive collective action. It is not merely a -sum of individual actions, because the fear and, therefore, the impulse -to flight of each man is intensified by the influence of his fellows. - -Secondly, let them be a band of pilgrims, fortuitously congregated, each -of whom has resolved to reach the city for his own private purposes. The -whole body moves on steadily, each perhaps aided in maintaining his -resolution in face of difficulties by the presence of the rest and the -spectacle of their resolute efforts. Here there is a certain -collectivity of action, the individual wills are strengthened by the -community of purpose. But the arrival of the band is not due to -collective volition; nor can it properly be said to be due to the will -of all; for each member cares nothing for the arrival of the band as a -whole; he desires and wills only his own arrival. - -Thirdly, let each member of the band be aware that, at any point of the -road, robbers may oppose the passage of any individual or of any company -not sufficiently strong to force its way through. Each member will then -desire that the whole band shall cohere and shall reach the city, and -the actions of the group will display a higher degree of co-operation -and collective efficiency than in the former cases; but the successful -passage of the band will be desired by each member simply in order that -his own safe arrival may be secured. There is direction of all wills -towards the production of the one result, the success of the whole band; -but this is not truly collective volition because the motives are -private and individual and diverse. - -Fourthly, let the band be an army of crusaders, a motley throng of -heterogeneous elements of various nationalities, united by one common -purpose, the capture of the city, but having no sentiment for the army. -In this case all members not only will the same collective action and -desire the same end of that action, but they have similar motives -arising from their sentiment for the city or that which it contains. -Still their combined actions are not the issue of a collective volition -in the full and proper sense of the words, but of a coincidental -conjunction of individual volitions. They might perhaps be said to be -the expression of the general will; and by giving that meaning to the -term 'general will,' while reserving the expression collective will or -volition for the type of case illustrated by our next instance, we may -usefully differentiate the two expressions. - -Lastly, let the band approaching the city be an army of crusaders of one -nationality, and let us suppose that this army has enjoyed a -considerable continuity of existence and that in the mind of each member -the self-regarding sentiment has become extended to the army as a whole, -so that, as we say, each one identifies himself with it and prizes its -reputation and desires its success as an end in itself. Such a -sentiment would be greatly developed and strengthened by rivalry in -deeds of arms with a second crusading army. Each member of this army -would have the same motives for capturing the city as those of the army -of our last instance; but, in addition to these motives, there would be -awakened within the extended self-regarding sentiment of each man an -impulse to assert the power, to sustain the glory of the army; and this, -adding its force to those other motives, would enable them to triumph -over all conflicting tendencies and render the resolution of the army to -capture the city a true collective volition; so that the army might -properly be said to possess and to exercise a general or collective -will. - -This distinction between the will of all and the collective will, which -we have considered at some length, may seem to be of slight importance -in the instances chosen. But it becomes of the greatest importance when -we have to consider the life of a nation or other enduring community. -The power of truly collective volition is no small advantage to any body -of fighting men and receives practical recognition from experienced -captains. - -The importance of these different types of volition was abundantly -illustrated by the incidents of the Boer war and of the Russo-Japanese -war. That the success of its undertaking shall be strongly willed by all -is perhaps the most important factor contributing to the success of an -army; and if also the army exercises a true collective volition, in the -sense defined above, it becomes irresistible. Though it is questionable -whether the Boer armies can be said to have exercised a collective -volition, it is at least certain that individually the Boers strongly -willed their common end, the defeat of the British. On the other hand, -the British armies were defective in these respects. The motives of -those who fought in the British armies against the Boers were very -diverse. The pay of the regulars, the five shillings a day of the -volunteers, the desire to live for a time an adventurous exciting life, -the desire to get home again on the sick-list as soon as possible, the -desire for personal distinction; all these and other motives were in -many minds mixed in various proportions with the desire to assert the -supremacy of the British rule and support the honour of the flag. This -difference between the Boer and British armies was undoubtedly a main -cause of many of the surprising successes of the former. In the -Russo-Japanese war the opposed armies probably differed even more widely -in this respect. The Japanese soldiers not only willed intensely the -common end, but their armies would appear to have exercised truly -collective volition. Many of the several regiments also, being recruited -on the territorial system, were animated by collective sentiments rooted -in local patriotism. The Russian armies on the other hand were largely -composed of peasants drawn from widely separated regions of the Russian -empire, knowing little or nothing of the grounds of quarrel or of the -ends to be achieved by their efforts, caring nothing individually for -those ends, and having but little patriotic sentiment and still less -sentiment for the army. - -It would, then, be a grave mistake to infer from the course of events in -these two wars that the British soldier was individually inferior to the -Boer, or the Russian to the Japanese; in both cases the principal -psychological condition of successful collective action--namely, a common -end intensely desired and strongly willed, individually or -collectively--was present in high degree on the one side, because the -preservation of the national existence was the end in view; while it was -lacking or comparatively deficient on the other side. As Sir Ian -Hamilton, a close observer of both these wars, has said--"the army that -will not surrender under any circumstances will always vanquish the army -whose units are prepared to do so under sufficient pressure." - -The same considerations afford an explanation of a peculiarity of -Russian armies which has often been noted in previous wars, and which -was very conspicuous in the late wars; namely, their weakness in attack -and their great strength when on the defensive. For, in attacking, a -Russian army is in the main merely obeying the will of the -commander-in-chief in virtue of custom, habit, and a form of strong -collective suggestion; but in retreat and on the defensive, each man's -action becomes truly volitional, all are animated by a common purpose, -and all will the same end, the safety of the whole with which that of -each member is bound up. - -The psychology of a patriot army is peculiarly simplified, as compared -with that of most other large human groups, by two conditions; on the -one hand, the restriction of the intellectual processes, by which the -large means for the pursuit of the common end are chosen, to one or a -few minds only; on the other hand, the definiteness and singleness of -its purpose and the presence of this clear and strong purpose in the -minds of all. - -Other groups that enjoy in some degree the latter condition of -simplicity of collective mental life are associations voluntarily formed -and organised for the attainment of some single well-defined end. In -them the former condition is generally completely lacking and the -deliberative processes, by which their means are chosen, are apt to be -very complex and ineffective, owing to lack of customary organisation. -Such associations illustrate more clearly than any other groups the part -played by the idea of the whole in the minds of the individuals in -constituting and maintaining the whole. A desire or purpose being -present in many minds, the idea of the association arises in some one or -more of them, and, being communicated to others, becomes the immediate -instrument through which the association is called into being; and only -so long as this idea of the whole as an instrument for attaining the -common end persists in the minds of the individuals does the association -continue to exist. In this respect such an association is at the -opposite end of the scale from the fortuitous crowd, which owes its -existence to the accidents of time and place merely. Human groups of -other kinds owe their existence in various proportions to these two -conditions; such groups, for example, as are constituted by the members -of a church, of a university or a school, of a profession or a township. -Others, such as nations, owe their inception to the accidents of time -and place, to physical boundaries and climatic conditions; and, in the -course of their evolution, become more and more dependent for their -existence on the idea of the whole and the sentiment organised about it -in the minds of their members; and they may, like the Jewish people, -arrive in the course of time at complete dependence on the latter -condition. - -The life of an army illustrates better than that of any other group the -influence of leadership. That great strategists and skilful tacticians -perform intellectual services of immeasurable importance for the common -end of the army goes without saying. But the moral influence of -leadership is more subtle in its workings, and is perhaps less generally -recognised in all its complexity and scope. It is well known that such -commanders as Napoleon inspired unlimited confidence and enthusiasm in -the veteran armies that had made many campaigns under their leadership. -Yet in the Great War, in which the British armies were, in its later -stages, composed so largely of new recruits, the same influence was -perceptible. Both the British and the French armies were very fortunate -in having in supreme command men in whom the common soldier felt -confidence. The solidity, the justice, the calm resolution of Marshal -Joffre were felt throughout the French army in the early days of the war -to be the one certain and fixed point in a crumbling universe. "Il est -solid, le Père Joffre" was repeated by thousands who, remembering the -disaster of 1870, were inclined to suspect treachery and weakness on -every hand. And the genius of Marshal Foch and of other brilliant -generals was a main source of the astonishing dogged resolution with -which the French armies, in spite of their terrible losses, sustained -the prolonged agony. The British army also was fortunate in having in -Field-Marshal Haig a man at its head who was felt to be above all things -resolute and calm and just; and, when the British armies in France were -placed under the supreme control of Foch, it was generally felt -throughout the ranks that this would not only give unity of control and -purpose, but also supply that touch of genius which perhaps had been -lacking in British strategy. - -But it was not only the supreme command that exercised this influence -over the minds of all ranks. At every level confidence in the leadership -was of supreme importance. The character and talents of each general and -colonel, of each captain, lieutenant, sergeant and corporal, made -themselves felt by all under their control; felt not only individually -but corporately and collectively. The whole area under the command of -any particular general might be seen to reflect and to express in some -degree his attributes. The reputations of the higher officers filtered -down through the ranks in an astonishingly rapid and accurate manner; -perhaps owing largely to the fact that these armies, in a degree unknown -before, were composed of men accustomed to read and to think and to -discuss and criticise the conduct of affairs. If the German higher -command had been exercised from the first by a man who inspired the just -confidence that was felt in the old Field-Marshal v. Moltke by the -Prussian armies of 1870, it is probable that the issue of the Great War -would have been fatally different. - -The moral effects of good leadership are, perhaps, of more importance to -an army than its intellectual qualities, especially in a prolonged -struggle; and these work throughout the mass of men by subtle processes -of suggestion and emotional contagion rather than by any process of -purely intellectual appreciation. And the whole organisation of any -wisely directed army is designed to render as effective as possible -these processes by which the influence of leaders is diffused through -the whole. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -THE GROUP SPIRIT - - -In considering the mental life of a patriot army, as the type of a -highly organised group, we saw that _group self-consciousness_ is a -factor of very great importance--that it is a principal condition of the -elevation of its collective mental life and behaviour above the level of -the merely impulsive violence and unreasoning fickleness of the mob. - -This self-consciousness of the group is the essential condition of all -higher group life; we must therefore study it more nearly as it is -manifested in groups of various types. It is unfortunate that our -language has no word that accurately translates the French expression -'esprit de corps'; for this conveys exactly the conception that we are -examining. I propose to use the term group spirit as the equivalent of -the French expression, the frequent use of which in English speech and -writing sufficiently justifies the attempt to specialise this compound -word for psychological purposes. - -We have seen that, in virtue of the sentiment developed about the idea -of the army, all its members exhibit _group loyalty_; it is only as the -sentiment develops about the idea that this idea of the whole, present -to the mind of each member, becomes a power which can hold the whole -group together, in spite of all physical and moral difficulties. We see -this if we reflect how armies of mercenaries, in which this collective -sentiment is lacking or rudimentary only, are apt to dissolve and fade -away by desertion as soon as serious difficulties are encountered. - -The importance of the collective idea and sentiment appears still more -clearly, when we reflect on the type of army which has generally proved -the most efficient of all--namely, an army of volunteers banded together -to achieve some particular end. Such an army (for example the army of -Garibaldi) owes its existence to the operation of this idea in the minds -of all. The idea of the army is formed in the mind perhaps of one only -(Garibaldi); he communicates it to others, who accept it as a means to -the end desired by all of them individually. The idea of the whole thus -operates to create the group, to bring it into existence; and then, as -the idea is realised, it becomes more definite, of richer and more -exact meaning; the collective sentiment grows up about it, and habit and -formal organisation begin to aid in holding the group together; yet -still the idea of the whole remains constitutive of the whole. - -Any group that owes its creation and its continued existence to the -collective idea may be regarded from the psychological standpoint as of -the highest type; while a fortuitously gathered crowd that owes its -existence to accidents of time and place and has the barest minimum of -group self-consciousness is of the lowest type. Every other form of -association or of human group may be regarded as occupying a position in -a scale between these extreme types; according to the relative -predominance of the mental or the physical conditions of its origin and -continuance, that is to say, according to the degree in which its -existence is teleologically or mechanically determined. - -The group spirit, the idea of the group with the sentiment of devotion -to the group developed in the minds of all its members, not only serves -as a bond that holds the group together or even creates it, but, as we -saw in the case of the patriot army, it renders possible truly -collective volition; this in turn renders the actions of the group much -more resolute and effective than they could be, so long as its actions -proceed merely from the presence of an impulse common to all members, or -from the strictly individual volitions of all, even though these be -directed to one common end. - -Again, the group spirit plays an important part in raising the -intellectual level of the group; for it leads each member deliberately -to subordinate his own judgment and opinion to that of the whole; and, -in any properly organised group, this collective opinion will be -superior to that of the average individual, because in its formation the -best minds, acting upon the fullest knowledge to the gathering of which -all may contribute, will be of predominant influence. Each member, then, -willing the common end, accepts the means chosen by the organised -collective deliberation, and, in executing the actions prescribed for -him, makes them his own immediate ends and truly wills them for the sake -of the whole, not executing them in the spirit of merely mechanical -unintelligent obedience or even of reluctance. - -In a similar way the group spirit aids in raising the moral level of an -army. The organised whole embodies certain traditional sentiments, -especially sentiments of admiration for certain moral qualities, -courage, endurance, trustworthiness, and cheerful obedience; and these -sentiments, permeating the whole, are impressed upon every member, -especially new members, by way of mass suggestion and sympathetic -contagion; every new recruit finds that his comrades accept without -question these traditional moral sentiments and confidently express -moral judgments upon conduct and character in accordance with them, and -that they also display the corresponding emotional reactions towards -acts; that is to say, they express in verbal judgments and in emotional -reactions their scorn for treachery or cowardice, their admiration for -courageous self-sacrifice and devotion to duty. The recruit quickly -shares by contagion these moral emotions and soon finds his judgment -determined to share these opinions by the weight of mass suggestion; for -these moral propositions come to him with all the irresistible force of -opinion held by the group and expressed by its unanimous voice; and this -force is not merely the force derived from numbers, but is also the -force of the prestige accumulated by the whole group, the prestige of -old and well-tried tradition, the prestige of age; and the more fully -the consciousness of the whole group is present to the mind of each -member, the more effectively will the whole impress its moral precepts -upon each. - -And the organisation of the army renders it possible for the leaders to -influence and to mould the form of these moral opinions and sentiments. -Thus Lord Kitchener, by issuing his exhortation to the British Army on -its departure to France, did undoubtedly exert a considerable influence -towards raising the moral level of the whole force, because he -strengthened the influence of those who were already of his way of -thinking against the influence of those whose sentiments and habits and -opinions made in the opposite direction. His great prestige, which was -of a double kind, both personal and due to his high office, enabled him -to do this. In the same way, every officer in a less degree can do -something to raise the moral level of the men under his command. Thus, -then, the organisation of the whole group, with its hierarchy of offices -which confer prestige, gives those who hold these higher offices the -opportunity to raise the moral level of all members. - -Of course, if those who occupy these positions of prestige feel no -responsibility of this sort and make no effort to exert such influence, -but rather aim at striking terror in the foe at all costs, if they -countenance acts of savagery such as the destruction of cities, looting, -and rapine, if they publicly instruct their soldiers to behave as Huns -or savages; then the organisation of the army works in the opposite -way--namely, to degrade all members below their normal individual level, -rather than to raise them above it; and then we hear of acts of -brutality on the part of the rank and file which are almost incredible. - -But the main point to be insisted on here is that the raising of the -moral level is not effected only by example, suggestion, and emotional -contagion, spreading from those in the positions of prestige; that, -where the group spirit exists, those enjoying prestige can, if they -wish, greatly promote the end of raising the moral tone of the whole by -appealing to that group spirit; as when Lord Kitchener asked the men to -obey his injunctions for the sake of the honour of the British Army. - -And the group spirit not only yields this direct response to moral -exhortation; it operates in another no less important manner. Each -member of a group pervaded by the collective sentiment, such as a -well-organised army of high traditions, becomes in a special sense his -brother's keeper. Each feels an interest in the conduct of every other -member, because the conduct of each affects the reputation of the whole; -each man, therefore, punishes bad conduct of any fellow soldier by scorn -and by withdrawal of sympathy and companionship; and each one rewards -with praise and admiration the conduct that conforms to the standards -demanded and admired. And so each member acts always under the jealous -eyes of all his fellows, under the threat of general disapprobation, -contempt, and moral isolation for bad conduct; under the promise of -general approval and admiration for any act of special excellence. - -The development of the group spirit, with the appropriate sentiment of -attachment or devotion to the whole and therefore also to its parts, is -the essence of the higher form of military discipline. There is a lower -form of discipline which aims only at rendering each man perfectly -subservient to his officers and trained to respond promptly and -invariably, in precise, semi-mechanical, habitual fashion, to every word -of command. But even the drill and the system of penalties and minute -supervision, which are the means chosen to bring about this result, -cannot fail to achieve certain effects on a higher moral and -intellectual level than the mere formation of bodily habits of response. -By rendering each soldier apt and exact in his response to commands, -they enable each one to foresee the actions of his fellows in all -ordinary circumstances, and therefore to rely upon that co-operation -towards the common end, be it merely a turning movement on the drill -ground or the winning of a battle, which is the essential aim and -justification of all group life. - -The group spirit, involving knowledge of the group as such, some idea of -the group, and some sentiment of devotion or attachment to the group, is -then the essential condition of all developed collective life, and of -all effective collective action; but it is by no means confined to -highly developed human associations of a voluntary kind. - -Whether the group spirit is possessed in any degree by animal societies -is a very difficult question. We certainly do not need to postulate it -in order to account for the existence of more or less enduring -associations of animals; just as we do not need to postulate it to -account for the coming together of any fortuitous human mob. Even in -such animal societies as those of the ants and bees, its presence, -though often asserted, seems to be highly questionable. When we observe -the division of labour that characterises the hive, how some bees -ventilate, some build the comb, some feed the larvae and so on; and -especially when we hear that the departure of a swarm from the hive is -preceded by the explorations of a small number which seek a suitable -place for the new home of the swarm and then guide it to the chosen -spot, it seems difficult to deny that some idea of the community and its -needs is present to the minds of its members. But we know so little as -yet of the limits of purely instinctive behaviour (and by that I mean -immediate reactions upon sense-perceptions determined by the innate -constitution) that it would be rash to make any such inference. The same -may be said of associations of birds or mammals, in which division of -labour is frequently displayed; when, for example, it is found that one -or more sentinels constantly keep watch while a flock or herd feeds or -rests, as is reported of many gregarious species. - -But, however it may be with animal societies, we may confidently assert -that the group spirit has played an important part in the lives of all -enduring human groups, from the most primitive ages onwards. - -It has even been maintained with some plausibility that group -self-consciousness preceded individual self-consciousness in the course -of the evolution of the human mind. That again is, it seems to me, a -proposition which cannot be substantiated. But it is, I think, true to -say that the two kinds of self-consciousness must have been achieved by -parallel processes, which constantly reacted upon one another in -reciprocal promotion. - -In the lives of the humblest savages the group spirit plays an immensely -important part. It is the rule that a savage is born into a small -closed community. Such a community generally has its own locality within -which it remains, even if nomadic; and, if settled, it wholly lives in a -village, widely separated in space from all others. In this small -community the child grows up, becoming more or less intimately -acquainted with every member of it, and having practically no -intercourse with any other persons. Throughout his childhood he learns -its laws and traditions, becomes acutely aware of its public opinion, -and finds his welfare absolutely bound up with that of the village -community. He cannot leave it if he would; the only alternative open to -him is to become an outcast, as which he would very soon succumb in the -struggle for life. There is nothing comparable with this in our complex -civilised societies. The nearest parallel to it is the case of the young -child growing up in a peculiarly secluded family isolated in the depths -of the country. - -This restriction of the intercourse of the young savage to the members -of his own small society and his absolute dependence upon it for all -that makes his survival possible would in themselves suffice to develop -his group consciousness in a high degree. But two other conditions, -well-nigh universal in savage life, tend strongly towards the same -result. - -When the young savage begins to come into contact with persons other -than those of his own group, he learns to know them, not as individuals, -John Smith or Tom Brown, but as men of such or such a group; and he -himself is known to them as a man of his group, as representing his -group, his village community, tribe, or what not; and he displays -usually some mark or marks of his group, either in dress or ornament or -speech. - -The other great condition of the development of the group spirit in -primitive societies is the general recognition of communal -responsibility. This no doubt is largely the result of the two -conditions previously mentioned, especially of the recognition of an -individual by members of other groups as merely a representative of his -group, rather than as an individual, and of the fact that his deeds, or -those of any one of his fellows, determine the attitudes of other groups -towards his group as a whole. But the influence of the principle of -communal responsibility, thus established, becomes immensely -strengthened by its recognition in a number of superstitious and -religious observances. The savage lives, generally speaking, bound hand -and foot by _tabus_ and precise prescriptions of behaviour for all -ordinary situations; and the breach of any one of these by any member of -the community is held to bring down misfortune or punishment on the -whole group; so far is this principle carried, that the breach of custom -by some individual is confidently inferred from the incidence of any -communal misfortune[34]. - -The recognition of communal responsibility is the great conservator of -savage society and customary law, the very root and stem of all savage -morality; it is the effective moral sanction without which the -superstitious and religious sanctions would be of little effect. By its -means, the idea of the community is constantly obtruded on the -consciousness of the individual. Through it he is constantly led, or -forced, to control his individualistic impulses and to undertake action -with regard to the welfare of the group rather than to his own private -interest. Through it the tendency of each to identify himself and each -of his fellows with the whole group is constantly fostered; because it -identifies their interests. - -We may then say that, just as the direct induction of emotion and -impulse by sense-perception of their bodily expressions is the cement of -animal societies, so group self-consciousness is the cement and -harmonising principle of primitive human societies. - -And the group spirit is not only highly effective in promoting the life -and welfare of the group; it is also the source of peculiar -satisfactions. The individual revels in his group-consciousness; hence -the principle is apt to run riot in savage societies, and we find that -in very many parts of the world a great variety of complex forms of -association is maintained, beside the primary and fundamental form of -association of the village community or nomadic band (the kinship or -subsistence group), apparently for no other reason than the attainment -and intensification of the satisfactions of the group spirit. Hence, -among peoples so low in the scale of savagery as the Australians, we -find a most complex system of grouping cutting across the subsistence -grouping; hence totem clans and phratries, exogamous groups, secret -societies, initiation ceremonies. - -I lay stress on the satisfaction which group self-consciousness brings -as a condition or cause of these complexities of savage society, -because, I think, it has been unduly neglected as a socialising factor -and a determinant of the forms of association. If we ask--What are the -sources of this satisfaction?--we may find two answers. First, the -consciousness of the group and of oneself as a member of it brings a -sense of power and security, an assurance of sympathy and co-operation, -a moral and physical support without which man can hardly face the -world. In a thousand situations it is a source of settled opinions and -of definite guidance of conduct which obviates the most uncomfortable -and difficult necessity of exerting independent judgment and making up -one's own mind. And in many such situations, not only does the savage -find a definite code prescribed for his guidance, but he shares the -collective emotion and feels the collective impulse that carries him on -to action without hesitation or timidity. - -Secondly, we may, I think, go back to a very fundamental principle of -instinctive life, the principle, namely, that, in gregarious animals, -the satisfaction of the gregarious impulse is greater or more complete -the more nearly alike are the individuals congregated together. This -seems to be true of the animals, but it is true in a higher degree of -man; and, in proportion as his mind becomes more specialised and -refined, the more exacting is he in this respect. To the uncultivated -any society is better than none; but in the cultivated classes we become -extraordinarily exacting; we find the gregarious satisfaction in our own -peculiar _set_ only--a process carried furthest, perhaps, in university -circles. In savage life this shows itself in practices which accentuate -the likeness of members of a group and mark it off more distinctly from -other groups--for example, totems, peculiarities of dress, ornaments and -ceremonies; things which are closely paralleled by the clubs, blazers, -colours, cries, and so forth of our undergraduate communities. - -The life of the savage, then, is in general dominated by that of the -group; and this domination is not effected by physical force or -compulsion (save in exceptional instances) but by the group spirit which -is inevitably developed in the mind of the savage child by the material -circumstances of his life and by the traditions, especially the -superstitious and religious traditions, of his community. Such group -self-consciousness is the principal moralising influence, and to this -influence is due in the main the fact that savages conform so strictly -to their accepted moral codes. - -Group self-consciousness in savage communities brings then, I suggest, -two great advantages which account for the spontaneous development and -persistence among so many savage peoples of what, from a narrowly -utilitarian point of view, might seem to be an excess of group -organisation, such as the totemic systems of the Australians and of the -American Indians;--namely, firstly, the moralising influences of the -group spirit; secondly, the satisfactions or enjoyments immediately -accruing to every participant in active group life. - -And these two advantages, being in some degree appreciated, lead to a -deliberate cultivation of group life for the securing of them in higher -measure. The cultivation of group life shows itself in the many -varieties of grouping on a purely artificial basis and in the practice -of rites and ceremonies, especially dances, often accompanied by song -and other music. There is nothing that so intensifies group -consciousness, at the cost of consciousness of individuality, as -ceremonial dancing and singing; especially when the dance consists of a -series of extravagant bizarre movements, executed by every member of the -group in unison, the series of movements being at the same time peculiar -to the particular group that practises them and symbolical of the -peculiar functions or properties claimed by the group. Many savage -dances have these characters in perfection; as, for example, those of -the Murray islanders of Torres Straits, where, as I have witnessed, the -several totemic groups--the dog-men, the pigeon-men, the shark-men, and -other such groups--continue, in spite of the partial destruction by -missionaries of their totemistic beliefs, to revel in night-long -gatherings, at which each group in turn mimics, in fantastic dances and -with solemn delight, the movements of its totem animal. - -The importance of group consciousness in savage life has been recently -much insisted on by some anthropologists, and indeed, in my view, -overstated. Cornford[35] writes "When the totem-clan meets to hold its -peculiar dance, to work itself up till it feels the pulsing of its -common life through all its members, such nascent sense of individuality -as a savage may have--it is always very faint--is merged and lost; his -consciousness is filled with a sense of sympathetic activity. The group -is now feeling and acting as one soul, with a total force much greater -than any of its members could exercise in isolation. The individual is -lost, 'beside himself,' in one of those states of contagious enthusiasm -in which it is well known that men become capable of feats which far -outrange their normal powers." And again "Over and above their -individual experience, all the members of the group alike partake of -what has been called the collective consciousness of the group as a -whole. Unlike their private experience, this pervading consciousness is -the same in all, consisting in those epidemic or infectious states of -feeling above described, which, at times when the common functions are -being exercised, invade the whole field of mentality, and submerge the -individual areas. To this group-consciousness belong also, from the -first moment of their appearance all representations which are -collective, a class in which all religious representations are included. -These likewise are diffused over the whole mentality of the group, and -identical in all its members.... The collective consciousness is thus -super-individual. It resides, of course, in the individuals composing -the group. There is nowhere else for it to exist, but it resides in all -of them together and not completely in any one of them. It is both in -myself and yet not myself. It occupies a certain part of my mind and yet -it stretches beyond and outside me to the limits of my group. And since -I am only a small part of my group, there is much more of it outside me -than inside. Its force therefore is much greater than my individual -force, and the more primitive I am the greater this preponderance will -be. Here, then, there exists in the world a power which is much greater -than any individual's--super-individual, that is to say superhuman." - -"Because this force is continuous with my own consciousness, it is, as -it were, a reservoir to which I have access, and from which I can absorb -superhuman power to reinforce and enhance my own. This is its positive -aspect--in so far as this power is not myself and greater than myself, it -is a moral and restraining force, which can and does impose upon the -individual the necessity of observing the uniform behaviour of the -group." This writer makes group consciousness the source of both -morality and religion. "The collective consciousness is also immanent in -the individual himself, forming within him that unreasoning impulse -called conscience, which like a traitor within the gates, acknowledges -from within the obligation to obey that other and much larger part of -the collective consciousness which lies outside. Small wonder that -obedience is absolute in primitive man, whose individuality is still -restricted to a comparatively small field, while all the higher levels -of mentality are occupied by this overpowering force[36]." The first -religious idea is that of "this collective consciousness, the only moral -power which can come to be felt as imposed from without." And Cornford -goes yet further and makes of the group self-consciousness the source of -magic as well as of religion and morality. This primary reservoir of -super-individual power splits, he says, into two pools, human and -non-human; the former is magic power, the latter is divine power. - -On this I would comment as follows. Although Cornford is right in -insisting upon the large influence of group consciousness, he is wrong, -I think, in underestimating individuality. He does not go so far as -some writers who suggest that group self-consciousness actually -precedes individual self-consciousness, but he says of individual -self-consciousness that it is but very faint in savages. I am more -inclined to agree with Lotze, who in a famous passage asserted that -even the crushed worm is in an obscure way aware of itself and its -pain as set over against the world. Many facts of savage behaviour -forbid us to accept the extreme view that denies them individual -self-consciousness--individual names, secret names, private property, -private rites, religious and magical, individual revenge, jealousy, -running _amok_, leadership, self-assertion, pride, vanity, competition -in games of skill and in technical and artistic achievement. The -flourishing of these and many other such things in primitive communities -reveals clearly enough to the unbiassed observer in the field the -effective presence of individual self-consciousness in the savage mind. -In this connexion I may refer to two pieces of evidence bearing very -directly on the question reported by Dr C. Hose and myself. Among the -Sea-Dayaks or Ibans of Borneo we discovered the prevalence of the belief -in the 'nyarong' or private 'spirit helper,' some spiritual or animated -individual power which a fortunate individual here and there finds -reason to believe is attached to him personally for his guidance and -help in all difficult situations. His belief in this personal helper and -the rites by aid of which he communicates with it are kept secret from -his fellows; so that it was only after long and intimate acquaintance -with these people that Dr Hose began to suspect the existence of this -peculiarly individualistic belief[37]. In the same volumes we have -described the Punans of Borneo, a people whose mode of life is in every -respect extremely primitive. In this respect they are perhaps unequalled -by any other existing people. Yet no one who is acquainted with these -amiable folk could doubt that, although their group consciousness is -highly developed, they enjoy also a well developed individual -self-consciousness. How otherwise can we interpret the fact that a Punan -who suffers malicious injury from a member of another tribe will nurse -his vengeful feeling for an indefinite period and, after the lapse of -years, will find an opportunity to bring down his enemy secretly with -blow-pipe and poisoned dart? - -With Mr Cornford's view of the part played by the group spirit in -moralising conduct I agree. I agree also that it is the collective life -or mind that develops religion and in part magic; but in my view -Cornford attributes to the savage far too much reflective theorising; he -represents him as formulating a theory of the collective consciousness -which is really almost identical with the interesting speculation of M. -Lévy Bruhl presently to be noticed, and he regards his conduct, his -religious and magical practices, as guided by these theories. But that -is to reverse the true order of things--to make theory precede practice; -whereas in reality, especially in religion and magic, practice has -everywhere preceded theory, often, as in this case, by thousands of -generations[38]. - -It is true that the savage often behaves as though he held this theory -of the collective consciousness as a field of force in which he -participates; that his conduct seems to require such a theory for its -rational justification. But it by no means follows that he has -formulated any theory at all. What the savage is conscious of is, not a -collective consciousness as a mysterious superhuman power, but the group -itself, the group of concrete embodied fellow men. He behaves and feels -as he does, because participation in the life of the group directly -modifies his individual tendencies and directly evokes these feelings -and actions; he does not discover, or seek, any theory by which to -explain them. Still less is it true that he performs these actions -because he has formulated a theory of a collective consciousness. - -Mr Cornford regards the savage idea of a collective consciousness as the -germ of the idea of divine power or of God. Now this is connected with -the question of animism, preanimism, and dynanimism. It may be true that -the notion of _mana_ is the common prime source of religious and magical -ideas, but it does not follow that the idea of God is arrived at by way -of a notion of collective _mana_. No doubt that would be the probable -course of events, if the savage had so little sense of his individuality -as Cornford supposes; but it seems to me rather that the savage's strong -sense of individuality has led at an early stage to the personalisation, -the individuation, of _mana_, the vaguely conceived spiritual power and -influence, and that it was only by a long course of religious and -philosophical speculation that men reached the conception of the -Absolute or of God as a universal power of which each personal -consciousness is a partial manifestation. - -It is interesting to note that, if we could accept Cornford's views, we -could now claim to witness the completion of one full cycle of the -wheel of speculation, the last step having been made in an article in a -recent number of the _Hibbert Journal_[39]; for it is there suggested -that the only God or super-individual power we ought to recognise and -revere is, not a collective consciousness conceived as a -supra-individual unity of consciousness, but the collective mind of -humanity in the sense in which I am using the term, a system of mental -forces that slowly progresses towards greater harmony and integration. - -M. Lévy Bruhl has written an interesting, though highly speculative, -account of savage mental life which he represents as differing -profoundly from our own, chiefly in that it is dominated by 'collective -representations[40].' His view is not unlike that put forward by -Cornford. - -Collective representations or ideas are rightly said to be the product -of the group mind rather than of any individual mind; that is to say, -they have been gradually evolved by collective mental life; and they are -said to differ from our ideas in being "states more complex in which the -emotional and motor elements are integral parts of the ideas." Thinking -by aid of these collective representations is said to have its own laws -quite distinct from the laws of logic. - -These statements are no doubt correct; but both Lévy Bruhl and Cornford -commit the great error of assuming that the mental life of civilised man -is conducted by each individual in a purely rational and logical manner; -they overlook the fact that we also are largely dominated by collective -representations; for these collective representations are nothing but -ideas of objects to which traditional sentiments, sentiments of awe, of -fear, of respect, of love, of reverence, are attached. Almost the whole -of the religion and morality of the average civilised man is based on -his acquisition of such collective representations, traditional -sentiments grown up about ideas of objects, ideas which he receives -ready made and sentiments which are impressed upon him by the community -that has evolved them. - -It is no doubt true that in the main the field of objects to which -collective representations apply is larger in savage life; and these -ideas are more uniform and more powerful and unquestioned, because the -group is more homogeneous in its sentiments. But it is, fortunately, -only a rare individual here and there among us who in considerable -degree emancipates himself from the influence of such representations -and becomes capable of confronting all objects about him in a perfectly -cool, critical, logical attitude--who can "peep and botanise upon his -mother's grave." Only by strict intellectual discipline do we progress -towards strictly logical operations in relation to real life, towards -pure judgments of fact as opposed to judgments of value. For our -judgments of value are rooted in our sentiments; and whatever is for us -an object of a sentiment of love or hate, of attachment or aversion, can -only with the greatest difficulty, if at all, be made an object of a -pure judgment of fact. - -And Cornford and Lévy Bruhl make the same mistake in regard -to 'collective representations' as in regard to the group -self-consciousness--namely, they credit the savage with theories for the -explanation of the beliefs implicitly involved in the 'collective -representations,' for example, the theory of mystic participation, which -is said to replace for the savage the civilised man's theory of -mechanical causation. But, when we regard any material object as holy, -or sacred, or as of peculiar value, because it was given us by a -departed friend, or belonged to and perhaps was once worn by a beloved -person, our behaviour towards it is not determined by any theory of -participation; if, for example, we touch it tenderly and with reverent -care, that is the direct expression of our feeling. We even behave as if -we held the theory of participation, to the extent of believing that the -dead or distant person will suffer pain if we ill-use or neglect the -object which is associated with him in our minds, but without actually -holding that belief; and still more without elaborating a theory of the -nature of the process by which our action will produce such an effect. -It is only a late and highly sophisticated reflection upon behaviour of -this kind which leads to theories for the justification of such -behaviour. It is not true, then, that we are logical individuals, while -savages are wholly prelogical in virtue of the dominance among them of -the collective mental life. The truth rather is that, wherever emotion -qualifies our intellectual operations, it renders them other than purely -and strictly logical; and the savage or the civilised man departs more -widely from the strictly logical conduct of his intellect, in proportion -as his conceptions of things are absorbed without critical reflection -and analysis and are coloured with the traditional sentiments of his -community. The average savage, being more deeply immersed in his group, -suffers these effects more strongly than the average civilised man. Yet -the interval in this respect between the modern man of scientific -culture and the average citizen of our modern states is far greater -than that between the latter and the savage. - -If one had to name the principal difference between the conditions of -life of the typical savage and those of the average civilised man, one -would, I think, have to point to the lack in civilised life of those -conditions which so inevitably develop the group consciousness of the -savage. The family circle supplies to the young child something of these -conditions, but in a very imperfect degree only. At an early age this -influence is much weakened by general intercourse. As the individual -approaches maturity, he finds himself at liberty to cut himself off -completely from all his natural setting, to transplant himself to any -part of the world, and to share in the life of any civilised community. -He can earn his livelihood anywhere, and he knows nothing of communal -responsibility. - -Progressive weakening of the conditions that force the development of -group self-consciousness has characterised the whole course of the -development of civilisation, and has reached its climax in the -conditions of life in our large cities. - -In primitive communities the conditions of group self-consciousness are, -as we have seen, fourfold; namely kinship, territorial, traditional and -occupational association. All these are present in the highest degree in -the nomadic group under the typical patriarchal system. - -When kinship groups take to agriculture and become permanently settled -on one spot, the kinship factor tends to be weakened, through the -inclusion of alien elements; and the territorial factor becomes the most -important condition. Throughout European history the territorial factor, -expressing itself in the form of the village-community, remained of -universal importance in this respect; the Roman Empire and the Roman -Church weakened it greatly; but everywhere outside those spheres it -continued to be of dominant importance until the great social revolution -of the modern industrial period. - -The village community maintained much of the tradition and custom that -tend to develop group self-consciousness with its moralising influence. -But at the present time almost the only condition of wide and general -influence that continues in times of peace to foster group -self-consciousness is occupational association. And so we find men -tending more and more to be grouped for all serious collective -activities according to their occupations. From the earliest development -of European industry this tendency has been strong; it produced the -trading and craft guilds which played so great a part in medieval -Europe; and, though the monarchical and capitalistic regimes of modern -times have done all they can to repress and break up these occupational -groups, and have greatly restricted their influence, they have failed to -suppress them entirely. The climax of this tendency for the occupational -to replace and overshadow all other forms of self-conscious grouping is -present-day Syndicalism. - -The natural conditions of group self-consciousness, which in primitive -societies rendered its development inevitable and spontaneous in every -man, have then been in the main destroyed. But man cannot stand alone; -men cannot live happily as mere individuals; they desire and crave and -seek membership in a group, in whose collective opinions and emotions -and self-consciousness and activities they may share, with which they -may identify themselves, thereby lessening the burden of individual -responsibility, judgment, decision and effort. - -Hence in this age the natural groupings and the involuntary developments -of group consciousness are largely replaced by an enormous development -of artificial voluntary groupings, over and above the natural groupings -that are still only in very imperfect measure determined by the weakened -force of the natural conditions, namely kinship, neighbourhood and -occupation. - -In part these artificial groupings are designed to reinforce the natural -conditions, as, for example, village festivals. The whole population of -a country such as our own is permeated by a vast and complexly -interwoven, or rather tangled, skein of the bonds of voluntary -associations. Many of these are, of course, formed to undertake some -definite work, to achieve some end which can only be achieved by -co-operative effort. But in the majority of such cases the satisfactions -yielded by group life play a very great part in leading to the formation -of and in maintaining the groups, for example, groups of philanthropic -workers, the makers of charity bazaars, the salvation army, the -churches, the chapels, the sects. Most of such associations that have -any success and continuity of existence contain a nucleus of persons who -identify themselves in the fullest possible manner with the group, make -its interest their leading concern, the desire of its welfare their -dominant motive, and find in its service their principal satisfaction -and happiness. - -And in very many voluntary associations the group-motives, the desire -for the satisfactions to be found in group life, are of prime -importance, predominating vastly over the desire to achieve any -particular end by co-operative action. Such are our countless clubs and -societies formed frankly for recreation, or for mutual improvement, and -for all kinds of ostensible purposes which serve merely as excuses or -reasons for the existence of the club. In the majority of instances -these declared purposes really serve merely or chiefly to exert a -certain natural selection of persons, to bring together persons of -similar tastes as voluntary associates, to enable, in short, birds of a -feather to flock together. Even some of our enduring historical -institutions owe their continuance chiefly to the advantages and -satisfactions that proceed from group consciousness, for example, -colleges, school-houses, and political parties, especially perhaps in -America. Party feeling, as Sir H. Maine rightly said, is frequently a -remedy for the inertia of democracy. - -The savage, when he maintains associations other than those determined -by natural conditions, intensifies his group consciousness by wearing -badges and totem marks, by tatooing and scarring, and by indulging in -various rites and ceremonies, about which a certain secrecy and mystery -is maintained. And civilised men exhibit just the same tendency and take -very similar measures to intensify group consciousness. We have our club -colours and ribbons and blazers, our college gowns and colours, our -Oxford accent, our badges of membership, and so on. Freemasonry, with -its lodges and badges and mysterious rites, seems to be the purest -example on a large scale. And, when the group consciousness and the -group sentiment have been acquired, we continue to cultivate it purely -for its own sake, by holding annual dinners and reunions of old boys, -and so forth. - -It is of the greatest importance that this tendency to seek and maintain -a share in group consciousness, which, as we have seen, manifests itself -everywhere even under the most adverse conditions, not merely yields -comfort and satisfaction to individuals, but brings about results which -are in almost every way extremely advantageous for the higher -development of human life in general. - -We have seen that, in the well-organised group, collective deliberation, -judgment, and action are raised to a higher plane of effectiveness than -is possible to the average member of the group. But apart from that, the -group spirit continues with us, as with the savage (though in a less -effective degree) to be the great socialising agency. In the majority of -cases it is the principal, if not the sole, factor which raises a man's -conduct above the plane of pure egoism, leads him to think and care and -work for others as well as for himself. Try to imagine any man wholly -deprived of his group consciousness and set over against all his -fellowmen as an individual unit, and you will see that you could expect -but little from him in the way of self-sacrifice or public service--at -most a care for his wife and children and sporadic acts of kindliness -when direct appeals are made to his pity; but none of that energetic and -devoted public service and faithful self-sacrificing co-operation -without which the continued welfare of any human society is impossible. - -The group spirit destroys the opposition and the conflict between the -crudely individualistic and the primitive altruistic tendencies of our -nature. - -This is the peculiar merit and efficiency of the complex motives that -arise from the group spirit; they bring the egoistic self-seeking -impulses into the service of society and harmonise them with the -altruistic tendencies. The group spirit secures that the egoistic and -the altruistic tendencies of each man's nature, instead of being in -perpetual conflict, as they must be in its absence, shall harmoniously -co-operate and re-enforce one another throughout a large part of the -total field of human activity. - -For it is of the essence of the group spirit that the individual -identifies himself, as we say, with the group more or less; that is to -say, in technical language, his self-regarding sentiment becomes -extended to the group more or less completely, so that he is moved to -desire and to work for its welfare, its success, its honour and glory, -by the same motives which prompt him to desire and to work for his own -welfare and success and honour; as in the case of the student working -for a scholarship or university prize, or the member of an exploring -expedition or fighting group. Further, the motives supplied by the group -spirit may be stronger than, and may overpower, the purely -individualistic egoistic motives, just because they harmonise with, and -are supported by, any altruistic tendency or tendencies comprised in the -make up of the individual; which altruistic tendencies will, where the -group spirit is lacking, oppose and weaken the effects of purely -egoistic motives. To illustrate this principle, let us imagine an -Englishman who, in a Congo forest, finds a white man sick or in -difficulties. To succour the sick man may be to incur grave risks, and -he is tempted to pass on; but the thought comes to him that in so doing -he will lower the prestige of the white man in the eyes of the natives; -and this idea, evoking the motives of the group spirit which unites all -white men in such a land, brings victory to his sense of pity in its -struggle with selfish fear. - -In this way, that is by extension to the group, the egoistic impulses -are transmuted, sublimated, and deprived of their individualistic -selfish character and effects and are turned to public service. Hence it -is that it is generally so difficult or impossible to analyse the -motives of any public service or social activity and to display them as -either purely egoistic or altruistic; for they are, as Herbert Spencer -called them, ego-altruistic. And hence it comes about that both the -cynic and the idealist can make out plausible cases, when they seek to -show that either egoism or altruism predominates in human life. Both are -right in a partial sense. - -Another noteworthy feature of the group spirit renders it extremely -effective in promoting social life; namely the fact that, although the -group sentiment is apt to determine an attitude of rivalry, competition, -and antagonism towards similarly constituted groups, yet a man may share -in the self-consciousness of more groups than one, so long as their -natures and aims do not necessarily bring them into rivalry. And in our -complex modern societies this principle of multiple group consciousness -in each man is of extreme importance; for without it, and in the absence -or comparative lack of the natural conditions of grouping other than the -occupational, the whole population would become divided into -occupational groups, each fighting collectively against every other for -the largest possible share of the good things of life. A tendency -towards this state of things is very perceptible, in spite of the -correcting cross-connexions of kinship, of church and political party, -and of territorial association. - -But another principle of multiple group consciousness is, perhaps, of -still greater importance, namely that it allows the formation of a -hierarchy of group sentiments for a system of groups in which each -larger group includes the lesser; each group being made the object of -the extended self-regarding sentiment in a way which includes the -sentiment for the lesser group in the sentiment for the larger group in -which it is comprised. Thus the family, the village, the county, the -country as a whole, form for the normal man the objects of a harmonious -hierarchy of sentiments of this sort, each of which strengthens rather -than weakens the others, and yields motives for action which on the -whole co-operate and harmonise rather than conflict. - -Such a hierarchy is seen in savage life. It often happens that a man is -called on to join in the defence of some village of the tribe other than -his own. In such cases he is moved not only by his tribal sentiment, but -also by his sentiments for his village and family. The sentiment for the -part supports the sentiment for the whole. - -It is of considerable importance also that in general the development of -a sentiment of attachment to one group not only does not prevent, but -rather facilitates, the development of similar sentiments for other -groups. And this is especially true when the groups concerned are -related to one another as parts and wholes, that is, when they form a -hierarchy of successively more widely inclusive groups. The sentiment -for the smaller group (e.g. the family) naturally develops first in the -child's mind; if only for the reason that this is the group of which he -can first form a definite idea, and with the whole of which he is in -immediate relations. The strong development of this first group -sentiment prepares the child's mind for the development of other and -wider group sentiments. For it increases his power of grasping -intellectually the group of persons as a complex whole; and it -strengthens by exercise those impulses or primary tendencies which must -enter into the constitution of any group sentiment; and, thirdly, it -prevents the excessive development of the purely individualistic -attitude, of the habit of looking at every situation and weighing all -values from the strictly individualistic and egoistic standpoint; which -attitude, if once it becomes habitual, must form a powerful hindrance to -the development of the wider group sentiments, when the child arrives at -an age to grasp the idea of the larger group. - -The organisation of an army again illustrates these principles in -relatively clear and simple fashion. In our own army the regiment is the -traditional self-conscious unit about which traditional sentiment and -ritual have been carefully fostered, in part through realisation of -their practical importance, in part because this unit is of such a size -and nature as to be well suited to call out strongly the natural group -tendencies of its component individuals. On the whole the military -authorities, and especially Lord Haldane in the formation of the -territorial army, seem to have wisely recognised the importance of the -group spirit of the regiment; although during the Great War it was, -under the pressure of other considerations, apparently lost sight of at -certain times and places, with, I believe, deplorable consequences. - -In modern warfare, and especially in the Great War, the Division has -tended to become of predominant importance as the unit of organisation; -and accordingly, without destroying or superseding regimental group -consciousness, the sentiment for the Division has been in many instances -a very strong factor in promoting the spiritual cohesion and efficiency -of the army. Certain Divisions, such as the 10th and the 29th, have -covered themselves with glory, so that the soldiers have learnt to feel -a great pride in and a devotion to the Division. - -This larger group, although of comparatively ephemeral existence and -therefore devoid of long traditions coming down from the past, is in -perfect and obvious harmony, in purpose and spirit and material -organisation, with the battalions and other units of which it is -composed; and, accordingly, the sentiment for the larger group does not -enter into rivalry with that for the battalion, the battery, or other -smaller unit; rather it comprises this within its own organisation and -derives energy and stability from it. - -These psychological principles of group consciousness are, I think, well -borne out inductively, by any comparative survey; that is to say, we -find that, where family sentiment and the sentiment for the local group -are strong, there also the wider group sentiments are strong, and good -citizenship, patriotism, and ready devotion to public services of all -kinds are the rule. The strongest most stable States have always been -those in which family sentiment has been strong, especially those in -which it has been strengthened and supported by the custom of ancestor -worship, as in Rome, Japan and China. Scotchmen again (Highlanders -especially) are noted for clannishness, and Scotch cousins have become a -bye-word; a fact which implies the great strength of the family -sentiment. The clan sentiment, which is clearly only an extension of the -family sentiment, is also notoriously strong. The sentiment for Scotland -as a whole is no less strong in the hearts of all her sons. But, and -this is the important point, these strong group sentiments are perfectly -compatible with and probably conducive to a sentiment for the still -wider group, Great Britain or the British Empire; and the public -services rendered to these larger groups by men of Scottish birth are -equally notorious. - -In these considerations we may see, I think, a principal ground of the -importance of the institution of the family for the welfare of the -state. The importance has often been insisted upon; but too much stress -is usually laid upon the material aspects, and not enough upon the -mental effects, of family life. - -It has been a grave mistake on the part of many collectivists, from -Plato onwards, that they have sought to destroy the family and to bring -up all children as the children of the state only, in some kind of -barrack system. It is not too much to say that, if they could succeed in -this (and in this country great strides in this direction are being -rapidly made), they would destroy the mental foundations of all -possibility of collective life of the higher type. - -We touch here upon a question of policy of the highest importance. There -are, it seems to me, three distinct policies which may be deliberately -pursued, for the securing of the predominance of public or social -motives over egoistic motives. First, we may aim at building up group -life on the foundation of a system of discipline which will result in -more or less complete suppression of the egoistic tendencies of -individuals, the building up in them of habits of unquestioning -obedience to authority. I imagine that the Jesuit system of education -might fairly be taken as the most successful and thorough-going -application of this principle. The organisation of an army of unwilling -conscripts to fight for a foreign power must rest on the same basis. -Some group spirit no doubt will generally grow up. But, though wonderful -results have been obtained in this way, the system has two great -weaknesses. First, it seeks to repress and destroy more than half of the -powerful forces that move men to action--namely, the egoistic motives in -general--instead of making use of them, directing them to social ends. -Secondly, it necessarily crushes individuality and therefore all -capacity of progress and further development in various directions; it -results in a rigidly conservative system without possibility of -spontaneous development. - -The second system is that which aims at developing in all members of the -state or inclusive group a sentiment of devotion to the whole, while -suppressing the growth of sentiments for any minor groups within the -whole. This was the system of Plato's _Republic_ and is essentially the -collectivist ideal. It is the policy of those who would suppress all -sentimental groupings, all local loyalties and patriotisms, in favour of -the ideal of the brotherhood of man, the cosmopolitan ideal. I have -already pointed out one great weakness of this plan,--namely, that this -sentiment for the all-inclusive group cannot be effectively developed -save by way of development of the minor group sentiments. And, though it -may succeed with some persons, there will always be many who cannot -grasp the idea of the larger whole sufficiently firmly and intelligently -to make it the object of any strong and enlightened sentiment of -attachment; such persons will be left on the purely egoistic level, -whereas their energies might have been effectively socialised by the -development of some less inclusive group consciousness. - -Again, the smaller group is apt to call out a man's energies more -effectively, because he can see and foresee more clearly the effects of -his own actions on its behalf. Whereas the larger the group, the more -are the efforts of individuals and their effects obscured and lost to -view in vast movements of the collective life. That is to say, the -smaller groups harmonise more effectively than the larger groups the -purely egoistic and the altruistic motives (except of course in the case -of those few persons who can play leading parts in the life of the -larger group). For, though a man may be moved by his devotion to the -group to work for its welfare, he will work still more energetically if, -at the same time, he is able to achieve personal distinction and -acknowledgment, if the purely egoistic motives can also find -satisfaction in his activities. Hence this second policy also, no matter -how successful, fails to make the most of men, fails to bring to the -fullest exercise all their powers in a manner that will promote the -welfare of the whole. Thirdly, this system loses the advantages of the -healthy rivalry between groups within the whole; which rivalry is a -means to a great liberation of human energies. These are the weaknesses -of the over-centralised state, such as modern France or the Roman -Empire. - -Only the third policy can liberate and harmonise the energies of men to -the fullest extent; namely, that which aims at developing in each -individual a hierarchy of group sentiments in accordance with the -natural course of development. - -One other virtue of the group spirit must be mentioned. Although it -tends to bring similar groups into keen rivalry and even into violent -conflict, the antagonism between men who are moved to conflict by the -group spirit is less bitter than that between individuals who are -brought into conflict by personal motives; for the members of each group -or party, though they may wish to frustrate or even to destroy the other -party as such, may remain benevolent towards its members individually. -And this is rendered easier by the fact that the members of each group, -recognising that their antagonists are also moved by the group spirit, -by loyalty and devotion to the group, will sympathise with and respect -their motives far more readily and fully than they would, if they -ascribed to their opponents purely egoistic motives. This recognition, -even though it be not clearly formulated, softens the conflict and -moderates the hostile feelings that opposition inevitably arouses in men -keenly pursuing any end, especially one which they hold to be a public -good; in this way it renders possible that continuance of friendly -relations between members of bitterly opposed parties which has happily -been the rule and at the same time the seeming anomaly of English public -life. - -In our older educational system, and especially in the 'public schools' -and older universities, the advantages and the importance of developing -the group spirit have long been practically recognised--'esprit de corps' -has been cultivated by the party system, by rivalry of groups within the -group; by forms, school-houses, colleges, clubs, teams, games, and by -keeping the honour and glory of the school, college, or other unit, -prominently before the minds of the scholars in many effective ways. It -is, I think, one of the gravest defects of our primary system of -education that it makes so little provision for development of this -kind; that, while it weakens the family sentiment, it provides no -effective substitute for it. Something has been done in recent years to -remedy this defect, notably the fostering of the boy-scout movement; but -every opportunity of supplying this need should be seized by those who -are responsible for the direction of educational policy. - -The importance of the group spirit may be illustrated by pointing to -those individuals and classes which are denied its benefits. The tramp, -the cosmopolitan globe-trotter, the outcast in general, whether the -detachment from group life be due to the disposition or choice of the -individual or to unfortunate circumstances, is apt to show, only too -clearly, how little man is able, standing alone, to maintain a decent -level of conduct and character. On a large scale this is illustrated by -the casteless classes in caste communities, and especially by Eurasians -of India and by other persons and classes of mixed descent, who fail to -identify themselves wholly with either of the groups from which they -derive their blood. The moral defects of persons of these classes have -often been deplored, and they have usually been attributed to the -mixture of widely different hereditary strains. There is probably some -truth in the view; but in general the moral shortcomings of persons of -these classes are chiefly due to the fact that they do not fully share -in the life of any group having old established moral traditions and -sentiments. - - -SUMMARY OF PRINCIPAL CONDITIONS OF THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE GROUP SPIRIT - -We have seen that the group spirit plays a vastly important part in -raising men above the purely animal level of conduct, in extending each -man's interests beyond the narrow circle of his own home and family, in -inspiring him to efforts for the common good, in stimulating him to -postpone his private to public ends, in enabling the common man to rise -at times, as shown by a multitude of instances during the Great War, to -lofty heights of devotion and self-sacrifice. - -The development of the group spirit consists in two essential processes, -namely, the acquisition of knowledge of the group and the formation of -some sentiment of attachment to the group as such. It is essential that -the group shall be apprehended or conceived as such by its members. -Therefore the group spirit is favoured by whatever tends to define the -group, to mark it off distinctly from other groups; by geographical -boundaries; by peculiarities of skin-colour or of physical type, of -language, or accent, of dress, custom, or habit, common to the members -of the group; that is to say, by homogeneity and distinctiveness of type -within the group. - -And, though definition of the group as such within the minds of its -members is the prime condition of the growth of the group spirit, that -spirit will be the more effective the fuller and truer is the knowledge -of the group in the minds of its members. Just as individual -self-knowledge favours self-direction and wisdom of choice, so group -self-knowledge must, if it is to be fully effective, comprise not only -the conception of the group as a whole but also the fullest possible -knowledge of the component parts and individuals and an understanding of -their relations to one another. In this respect smallness and -homogeneity of the group are obviously favourable. But knowledge of the -group, however exact and widely diffused, is of itself of no effect, if -there be not also widely diffused in the members some sentiment of -attachment to the group. The prevailing group sentiment is almost -inevitably one of attachment. There are exceptional instances in which -men are compelled to act as members of a group which they hate or -despise, notably in some cases of compulsory military service and in -convict gangs; but it must be rare that, even under such conditions, -some sense of common interest, some fellow feeling for other members in -like distressing circumstances, does not lead to the growth of some -group spirit, provided only that the group has some continuity and some -homogeneity in essentials. - -In all natural and spontaneously formed groups, the extension of the -self-regarding sentiment to the group is a normal and inevitable -process; and, like the self-regarding sentiment, the sentiment so formed -may range from an insane and incorrigible pride (as often in the case of -the family sentiment) to a decent self-respect that is perfectly -compatible with a modest attitude and with reasonable claims upon and -regard for the interests of other groups. - -The main difference between the self-regarding sentiment and the -developed group sentiment is that the latter commonly involves an -element of devotion to the group for its own sake and the sake of one's -fellow members. That is to say, the group sentiment is a synthesis of -the self-regarding and the altruistic tendencies in which they are -harmonised to mutual support and re-enforcement: the powerful egoistic -impulses being sublimated to higher ends than the promotion of the -self's welfare[41]. - -Further, the group has, or may have, a greater continuity of existence -than the individual, both in the past and in the future; and for this -reason, and because also it includes the purely altruistic tendency, the -group sentiment is capable of idealisation in a high degree and of -yielding satisfactions far more enduring and profound than the most -refined self-sentiment. - -Both knowledge of the group and the growth of the group sentiment are -greatly promoted by two processes, in the absence of which the group -spirit can attain only a very modest development. These are free -intercourse within the group and free intercourse between the group and -other groups. We shall have occasion to discuss and illustrate them in -later chapters. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -PECULIARITIES OF GROUPS OF VARIOUS TYPES - - -We have discussed the psychology of the simple crowd or unorganised -group; and taking an army as an extreme and relatively simple type of -the highly organised group, we have used it to illustrate the principal -ways in which organisation of the group modifies its collective life, -raising it in many respects high above that of the crowd. - -I propose now to discuss very briefly the peculiarities of groups of -several types. Some classification of groups seems desirable as an aid -to the discovery of the general principles of collective life and their -application to the understanding of social life in general. It seems -impossible to discover any single principle of classification. Almost -every group that enjoys a greater continuity of existence than the -simple crowd partakes in some degree of qualities common to all. But we -may distinguish the most important qualities and roughly classify groups -according to the degrees in which they exhibit them. - -Apart from crowds, which, as we have seen, may be either fortuitously -gathered or brought together by some common purpose, there are many -simple groups which, though accidental in origin (i.e. not brought -together by common purpose or interest) and remaining unorganised, yet -present in simple and rudimentary form some of the features of group -life. - -The persons seated in one compartment of a railway train during a long -journey may be entirely strangers to one another at the outset; yet, -even in the absence of conversation, they in the course of some hours -will begin to manifest some of the peculiarities of the psychological -group. To some extent they will have come to a mutual understanding and -adjustment; and, when a stranger adds himself to their company, his -entrance is felt to some extent as an intrusion which at the least -demands readjustments; he is regarded with curious and to some extent -hostile glances. If an outsider threatens to encroach on the rights of -one of the company, the others will readily combine in defence of their -member; and any little incident affecting their one common interest -(namely, punctual arrival of the train at its destination) quickly -reveals, and in doing so strengthens, the bond of common feeling. - -On a sea voyage the group spirit of the passenger ship attains a greater -development, by reason of the longer continuance of the group, its more -complete detachment and definition, the sense of greater hazard -affecting all alike, the sense of dependence on mutual courtesy and -good-will and sympathy for the comfort and enjoyment of all. Very soon -the experienced traveller, contrasting and comparing this present -company with those of previous voyages, sums up its qualities and -defects and lays his plans accordingly. And by the time that an -intermediate port is reached, where perhaps the most 'grumpy' and least -entertaining member of the company disembarks, even his departure is -felt by the rest as a loss that leaves a gap in the structure of the -group. - -Such fortuitous and ephemeral groups apart, all others may be classed in -the two great divisions of natural and artificial groups. - -The natural groups again fall into two main classes which partly -coincide,--namely, those rooted in kinship and those determined by -geographical conditions. The family is the pure example of the former; -the population of a small island, the type of the latter kind. The main -difference is that the bonds of the kinship group are purely or -predominantly mental and therefore can, and commonly do, remain -effective in spite of all spatial separation and of all lack of common -purpose or of material benefits accruing from membership in the group. - -The artificial groups may be divided into three great classes, the -purposive, the customary or traditional, and the mixed; those of the -last kind combining the purposive and the traditional characters in -various proportions. - -The purposive group is brought together and maintained by the existence -of a common purpose in the minds of all its members. It is, in respect -of efficiency, the highest type; for it is essentially self-conscious, -aware of its ends and of its own nature, and it deliberately adopts an -organisation suited to the attainment of those ends. The simplest and -purest type is the social club, a body of people who meet together to -satisfy the promptings of the gregarious instinct and to enjoy the -pleasures of group life. In the great majority of instances, the social -club adopts some form of recreation--debating, music, chess, whist, -football, tennis, cycling--the practice of which gives point and -definition to the activities of members and secures secondary -advantages. It is noteworthy that on this purely recreational plane, -clubs and societies of all sorts seek in almost all cases to enhance the -group consciousness and hence the satisfactions of group life by -entering into relations, generally relations of friendly rivalry, but -sometimes merely of affiliation and formal intercourse, with other like -groups. For not only is the group consciousness enriched and -strengthened by such intercourse; but, when the rival or communicating -groups, becoming aware of one another, become informally or, more -generally, formally allied to constitute a larger whole, the -consciousness of participation in this larger whole gratifies more fully -the gregarious impulse and enhances the sense of power and confidence in -each member of each constituent group. This seems to be the main ground -of that universal tendency to the formation of ever more inclusive -associations of clubs and societies, which, overleaping even national -boundaries and geographical and racial divisions, has produced numerous -world-wide associations. - -Another very numerous class of strictly purposive groups is to be found -in the commercial companies. In these the group spirit commonly remains -at the lowest level; for the dominant motive is individual financial -gain, and the only common bond among the shareholders is their interest -in the management of the company so far as it affects the private and -individual end of each one. Group self-knowledge, organisation, -tradition, and group sentiment are all at a minimum; accordingly the -group remains incapable of effective deliberation or action. It operates -through its board of directors and officers and, owing to its incapacity -for group action, has to rely upon the provisions of the Company Laws -for the control of their actions. - -A third large class of purposive groups are the associations formed for -the furthering of some public end. Many such groups are purely -altruistic or philanthropic; but in the majority the members hope to -share in some degree in the public benefits for the attainment of which -the group is formed. In many such associations, group life hardly rises -above the low level of the commercial company; the main difference being -that, in virtue of the 'disinterested' or public-spirited nature of the -dominant purpose, the members regard one another and their executive -officers with greater confidence and sympathy; even though remaining -personally unacquainted. Notable instances of such associations, -achieving great public ends, are 'The National Trust for the -Preservation of Places of Natural Beauty or Historic Interest,' and 'The -Public Footpaths Association.' Other associations of this kind have -something of the nature of a commercial company: e.g. 'The First Garden -City Company,' and 'The Trust Houses Company.' The peculiarity of these -is that the motive of financial gain is subordinated to, while -co-operating with, the desire for achievement of a public good, a -benefit to the whole community in which the members of the group share -in an almost inappreciable degree only. Such associations are very -characteristic of the life of this country; and it may be hoped that -their multiplication and development will prove to be one of the -ameliorating factors of the future, softening the asperities of -commercial life, correcting to some degree that narrowing of the -sympathies, and preventing that tendency to class antagonisms, which -purely commercial associations inevitably produce. The great -co-operative societies seem to have something of this character; for, -although the dominant motive of membership is probably in most cases -private advantage, yet membership brings with it some sense of -participation in a great movement for better social organisation, some -sense of loyalty to the group, some rudimentary group knowledge and -group spirit, some interest in and satisfaction in the prosperity of the -group for its own sake, over and above the strictly private interest of -each member. The introduction of various forms of profit sharing will -give something of this character to commercial companies. - -The recent investments in government loans by millions of individuals, -acting in part from patriotic motives, must have a similar tendency; and -a similar effect on a large scale must be produced by any -nationalisation of industries, a fact which is one of the weightiest -grounds for desiring such nationalisation; though it remains uncertain -whether, when the scale of the association becomes so large as to -include the whole nation, the bulk of the citizens will be able -effectively to discern the identity of their public and private -interests, and whether, therefore, such nationalisation will greatly -promote that fusion or co-operation of public and private motives which -is the essential function and merit of the group spirit. - -The most characteristic British group of the purposive type is the -association formed for some public or quasi-public end and operating -through a democratically elected committee or committees and -sub-committees. Such groups are the cradle of the representative -principle and the training ground of the democratic spirit, especially -of its deliberative and executive faculties. In them each member, taking -part in the election of the committee, delegates to them his share of -authority, but continues to exert control over them by his vote upon -reports of the committee and in the periodic re-election of its -members. On this ground the citizens are trained to understand the -working of the representative principle; to yield to the opinion of the -majority on the choice of means, without ceasing loyally to co-operate -towards the common end; to observe the necessary rules of procedure; to -abide by group decisions; to influence group opinion in debate, and in -turn to be influenced by it and respect it; to differ without enmity; to -keep the common end in view, in spite of the inevitable working of -private and personal motives; to understand the necessity for -delegation, and to respect the organisation through which alone the -group raises itself above the level of the crowd. - -Traditional groups of pure or nearly pure character are relatively -infrequent. Perhaps the castes of the Hindu world are, of all large -groups, those which most nearly approach the pure type. Traditional -grouping is characteristic of stagnant old established populations, of -which it is the basis of organisation and principal cement. No doubt in -almost every case the formation of the traditional group was in some -degree purposive; but the original purpose has generally been lost sight -of; myths and legends have grown up to explain the origin of and give a -fictitious purpose or 'raison d'être' to the group. In the absence of -any definite practical purpose animating the group and holding it -together, its stability is secured and its tradition is re-enforced and -given a visible presentation by the development of ritual. Of all the -great groups among us the Free Masons perhaps afford the best -illustration of this type. - -Far more important in the British world are the groups of the mixed -type, partly traditional and partly purposive, groups having a long -history and origins shrouded in the mists of antiquity, but having some -strong and more or less definite common purpose. Of such groups the -Christian Church is the greatest example. In the Roman Church, whose -history has been so little interrupted, tradition attains its fullest -power, and the regard for the past is strengthened and supplemented by -the prospect of an indefinitely prolonged future directed towards the -same ends. Its organisation has grown gradually under the one continued -overshadowing purpose, every addition becoming embodied and established -in the great tradition, the strength of which is perpetually maintained -by ritual. And this traditional organisation is not only borne in the -minds of each generation of members of the Church, but, in an ever -increasing degree, has embodied itself in a material system of stone and -glass and metal and printed words; these constitute a visible and -enduring presentment which, though entirely disconnected and -heterogeneous in a merely material sense, yet provides fixed points in -the whole organisation, contributing immensely to its stability, and -aiding greatly in bringing home to the minds of its members the unity of -the whole group in the past, the present, and the future. Many groups or -sects having the same essential purpose as the Roman Church have aimed -to establish a tradition without the aid of such material embodiments: -but their ephemeral histories illustrate the wisdom of the mother Church -which, in building up her vast organisation, has recognised the -limitations and the frailties of the human mind and has not scorned to -adapt herself to them in order to overcome them. - -On a smaller scale our ancient universities and their colleges -illustrate the same great type of the partly traditional partly -purposive group, and the same great principles of collective -life,--namely, the stability derived from the continuity of tradition, -from its careful culture, and its partial embodiment in ritual and -material structure. - -An essential weakness of all such groups in a progressive community is -that tradition tends to overshadow purpose; hence every such group tends -towards the rigidity and relative futility of the purely traditional -group. Its organisation tends to set so rigidly that it is incapable of -adapting itself to the changing needs of the present and the future; the -maintenance of tradition, which is but a means towards the acknowledged -end, becomes an end in itself to which the primary purpose of the whole -is in danger of being subordinated. - -The churches and the universities alike illustrate vividly the -principles of a group within a group. Each of the older universities is -a microcosm, a small model of the national life, and largely to this -fact is due its educational value as a place of residence. Each college -evokes a strong group spirit in all its members; and this sentiment for -the college, though it may and does in some minor matters conflict with -the sentiment for the university, is in the main synthesised within -this, and indeed is the chief factor in the strength of that sentiment. - -The group spirit of each college owes much of its strength to the -carefully fostered, but perfectly friendly, rivalry between the several -colleges in sports and studies and other activities. The close -companionship and emulation between a number of small communities of -similar constitution and purpose, each having a long and distinct -tradition as well as a clearly defined material habitat which embodies -and symbolises its traditions in a thousand different ways, has raised -the self-knowledge and sentiment of the groups to a high level. It is -well known that the few years spent in one of the colleges develops in -every member (with few exceptions) a sentiment of attachment that -persists through life and extends itself in some degree to every other -member, past, present and future; so that, in whatever part of the world -and under whatever circumstances two such men may meet, the discovery of -their common membership of the college at once throws them into a -friendly attitude towards each other and prepares each to make -disinterested efforts on behalf of the other. - -The same is true in a less degree of the universities themselves. Oxford -and Cambridge have, partly in consequence of their proximity and close -intercourse, developed on closely parallel lines. They are therefore so -similar in constitution and aims as to be keen though friendly rivals. -This has been of great benefit to both, the self-knowledge and group -sentiment of each having been greatly promoted by this close -intercourse, rivalry, and reciprocal criticism. And this rivalry has not -prevented the growth of some sentiment for the larger group constituted -by the members of both universities, each of whom is always ready to -defend the common interests of the larger group against the rest of the -world. - -Again, within each college there are numerous smaller groups, each with -its traditions and group spirit; and, so long as these groups do not -become too exclusive, do not absorb all the devotion of their members, -but leave each one free to join in the life of other minor groups, their -influence is good, the group spirit of each such minor group -contributing to the strength of the larger group sentiment and enriching -the spiritual life of the whole. - -In the middle ages occupational groups were of great importance and -influence. They were of the mixed type, for most of them, though -essentially purposive, developed strong traditions; and in their remote -origins many of them were perhaps rather natural than artificial -formations. The violent changes of industrial life, the development of -the capitalist system and modern industrialism, dislocated and largely -destroyed these occupational groups to the great detriment of social -well-being. At the present time we see a strong tendency to the growth -of occupational groups of the purely purposive type, which, lacking the -guidance and conservative power of old traditions, and depending for -their strength largely upon the identification of the material interests -of each member with those of the group, show a narrowness of outlook, a -lack of stability and internal cohesion, and a tendency to ignore the -place and function of the group in the whole community. They show, in -short, a lack of the enlightened group spirit which only time, with -increasing experience and understanding of the nature and functions of -group life, can remedy. It may be hoped that with improved internal -organisation, with the growth of more insight into the mutual dependence -of the various groups on one another and on the whole community, these -groups, which at present seem to some observers to threaten to destroy -our society and to replace the rivalry of nations by an even more -dangerous rivalry of vast occupational groups, may become organised -within the structure of the whole and play a part of the greatest value -in the national life. - - - - -PART II - -THE NATIONAL MIND AND CHARACTER - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -INTRODUCTORY - -WHAT IS A NATION? - - -Having studied the most general principles of the collective mental -life, as exemplified in the two extreme forms of the unorganised crowd -and the highly organised army, having briefly noted the principal -classes of groups that enjoy a collective mental life, and having -examined the nature and function of the group spirit in the organisation -of the group mind, we may now take up the study of the most interesting, -most complex and most important kind of group mind, namely the mind of a -nation-state[42]. - -Many attempts have been made to define more exactly the popular notion -of a nation. The word has sometimes been applied to large groups of -primitive folk that show evidence of close racial affinity and -similarity of customs, such as the Iroquois tribes of North America, or -the Hun invaders of medieval Europe. In popular usage the word is more -commonly restricted to the great nation-states of modern times. It must -be recognised that, since human societies of present and past times -present every conceivable variety of composition and structure, it is -impracticable to lay down any strict definition and to classify -populations as falling definitely within or outside the class. - -But, though we may not hope to lay down a definition which shall clearly -mark off the nation from all other human groups, we may usefully define -the nation-state or nation in the most highly developed form that it has -yet attained, and recognise that various peoples partake of the nature -of, or approach the type of, the nation in so far as they exhibit -something of its essential character. - -It is perhaps hardly necessary to point out that it is only in the -nation-state, or nation in the fullest sense of the word, that the state -becomes identical with the nation, and that this identification has only -been achieved in modern history by the growth among a few peoples of -representative institutions and the democratic spirit. - -In the work mentioned above Prof. Ramsay Muir writes--"What do we mean by -a Nation? It is obviously not the same thing as a race, and not the same -thing as a state. It may be provisionally defined as a body of people -who feel themselves to be naturally linked together by certain -affinities which are so strong and real for them that they can live -happily together, are dissatisfied when disunited, and cannot tolerate -subjection to peoples who do not share these ties[43]." The provisional -definition has the merit of recognising that nationhood is essentially a -mental condition and must be defined in psychological terms. The author -goes on to inquire--"What are the ties of affinity which are necessary to -constitute a nation?" He then considers the following conditions: (1) -"occupation of a defined geographical area," (2) "unity of race," (3) -"unity of language," (4) "unity of religion," (5) "common subjection, -during a long stretch of time, to a firm and systematic government," (6) -"community of economic interest, with the similarity of occupations and -outlook which it brings," (7) "the possession of a common tradition, a -memory of sufferings endured and victories won in common, expressed in -song and legend, in the dear names of great personalities that seem to -embody in themselves the character and ideals of the nation, in the -names also of sacred places wherein the national memory is enshrined." -Of the last he says that it is "the most potent of all nation-moulding -factors, the one indispensable factor"; thus showing his sense of the -essentially psychological nature of nationhood. But of all the other six -'factors' enumerated, he shows that they are unessential. After reaching -this negative conclusion, that nationhood cannot be defined by any one -of these marks or factors, he writes: "Nationality, then, is an elusive -idea, difficult to define. It cannot be tested or analysed by formulæ, -such as German professors love. Least of all must it be interpreted by -the brutal and childish doctrine of racialism. Its essence is a -sentiment, and in the last resort we can only say that a nation is a -nation because its members passionately and unanimously believe it to be -so. But they can only believe it to be so if there exist among them real -and strong affinities; if they are not divided by any artificially -maintained separation between the mixed races from which they are -sprung; if they share a common basis of fundamental moral ideas, such as -are most easily implanted by common religious beliefs; if they can glory -in a common inheritance of tradition; and their nationality will be all -the stronger if to these sources of unity they add a common language and -literature and a common body of law. If these ties, or the majority of -them, are lacking, the assertion of nationality cannot be made good. -For, even if it be for the moment shared by the whole people, as soon as -they begin to try to enjoy the freedom and unity which they claim in the -name of nationality, they will fall asunder, and their freedom will be -their ruin." In the last sentence the author clearly shows that the -conclusion at which he seemed to have arrived, namely that "a nation is -a nation because its members passionately and unanimously believe it to -be so," is untenable. At the present time there are populations claiming -the rights of nationality just upon this fallacious ground; a fact which -illustrates the importance of achieving some satisfactory definition of -nationhood. Indeed at the present moment, when Europe is being remoulded -by the Paris Conference, the need for clear notions and some working -definition of nationhood has acquired a most urgent importance. For, as -our author remarks, "we say, loosely, that every nation has a _right_ to -freedom and unity," and the principle of "self-determination of nations" -has become almost universally accepted as a kind of moral axiom of -political justice; and this axiom is being applied to determine the -political boundaries of the world now and for all time. Yet how can we -hope to make a proper use of this principle, if we cannot define a -nation, if a modern historian, who has devoted himself to the study of -nationality, finds himself compelled in the year 1917 to give up the -attempt to define the meaning of the term nation? For that is the issue -of Prof. Ramsay Muir's interesting discussion. "We have not attained," -he confesses, "in this discussion any very clear definition of -nationality, or any very satisfactory test of the validity of the claims -put forward for national freedom. We are not to base the doctrine of -nationality upon abstract rights. We must recognise that there is no -single infallible test of what constitutes a nation, unless it be the -peoples' own conviction of their nationhood, and even this may be -mistaken or based upon inadequate grounds[44]." And the dire -consequences of this failure are made clear on the following page--"There -seems no escape from the conclusion that nationhood must mainly -determine itself by conflict. That conclusion appears to be the moral of -the history of the national idea in Europe." Which is as much as to say -that, when any population declares itself to be a nation and claims the -rights of nationhood, the Statesmen of the Paris Conference are to -reply--"We do not know whether your claim is well-founded; for the -historians and political philosophers cannot tell us the meaning of the -word 'nation.' Go to and fight, and, if you survive, we shall recognise -the 'fait accompli' and hail you a Nation." - -I have dwelt at some length on this perplexity of the historian, -grappling with the task of defining nationhood, because it illustrates -so well a fact on which I wish to insist--namely, that it is not -sufficient for the historian and the political philosopher to be willing -to recognise the mental factors in the phenomena with which he deals. It -is necessary to recognise that these factors are of overwhelming -importance, and that they cannot be satisfactorily dealt with by aid of -the obscure and confused psychological concepts of popular thought and -speech. We must recognise these political problems for what they truly -are--namely, psychological through and through, and only to be attacked -with some hope of success if we call to our aid all that psychological -science can give us. This conclusion cannot fail to be unpalatable to -very many workers in this field; for it implies that equipment for such -work demands some additional years of preparatory study. But, it may -fairly be asked, if the medical man must devote six years to the -intensive study of the human body, before he is permitted to practise -upon it, and even then without any scientific knowledge of the human -mind, should not he who would practise upon the body politic, in which -not merely the bodies but the minds of men interact in the most subtle -and complex fashion, prepare himself for his exalted task by an even -more extended course of study? - -Prof. Ramsay Muir has the merit of recognising the essentially -psychological nature of his problem; for his provisional definition -(cited above) is wholly psychological, and he tells us that the essence -of nationality is a sentiment; but he reveals the inadequacy of his -psychological equipment by telling us in the same paragraph that its -essence is a belief, the belief that they are a nation, passionately and -unanimously held by the members of some group. If we look again at the -list of seven proposed marks of nationhood, we shall see that they are -rather of the nature of conditions favourable to the growth of -nationhood; and, as we shall find, this list may be considerably -enlarged. He comes nearest to the truth perhaps when he says "its -essence is a sentiment." But he does not attempt to tell us what is the -nature of this sentiment, nor even what is its object. - -We may imagine a group of people of considerable magnitude, say the -Mormons, or the Doukhobors, the Swedenborgians, or the Christian -Scientists, withdrawing themselves to some defined territory, in order -to form themselves into a nation; then, although each of the seven -conditions enumerated by Prof. Ramsay Muir might be realised, and even -though the community possessed the two conditions described by him as -the essence of nationality--namely, a strong sentiment (presumably one of -loyalty to the group) and a passionate belief in its nationality--it -would, in the absence of other essential conditions, lamentably fall -short of being a nation and would suffer the fate indicated; namely "as -soon as they begin to try to enjoy the freedom and unity which they -claim in the name of nationality, they will fall asunder, and their -freedom will be their ruin[45]." - -What, then, is the essential condition for lack of which any such people -would fall short of nationhood? What is the factor which has escaped the -analysis of Prof. Ramsay Muir? The answer must be--organisation; not -material organisation, but such mental organisation as will render the -group capable of effective group life, of collective deliberation and -collective volition. The answer to the riddle of the definition of -nationhood is to be found in the conception of the group mind. A nation, -we must say, is a people or population enjoying some degree of political -independence and possessed of a national mind and character, and -therefore capable of national deliberation and national volition. In -this and the succeeding chapters we have to examine the nature of such -national mind and character, to give fuller meaning to these vague -popular terms, and to study the way in which various conditions of -national life contribute to their development. - -Nationhood is, then, essentially a psychological conception. To -investigate the nature of national mind and character and to examine the -conditions that render possible the formation of the national mind and -tend to consolidate national character, these are the crowning tasks of -psychology. - -Let me remind the reader at this point of the general sense of the words -mind and character. The two words really cover the same content; when we -speak of the individual mind or character, we mean the organised system -of mental or psychical forces which expresses itself in the behaviour -and the consciousness of the individual man. Any such organised system -has two aspects or sides which, though intimately related, maybe -considered abstractly as distinct--namely, the intellectual or cognitive -aspect and the volitional, conative, or affective aspect. When we use -the word 'mind' in speaking of any such system, we give prominence to -its intellectual side; when we say 'character' we draw attention to its -conative or affective side. The group mind of a nation is a mind in the -sense that, like the mind of the individual, it is an organised system -of mental or psychical forces; and, like the individual mind, it also -has its intellectual and its affective sides or aspects. And this -remains true whether or no there be any truth in that notion of the -'collective consciousness' as a synthesis of minor consciousnesses which -we have provisionally rejected[46]; that is to say, we accept -unreservedly the notion of the collective mind, while suspending -judgment upon the notion of 'collective consciousness,' until we shall -find that this hypothesis is, or is not, required for the interpretation -of the facts. - -It will be observed that we are getting far away from the old-fashioned -conception of psychology which limited its province to the introspective -description of the contents of the individual's consciousness. The wider -conception of the science gives it new tasks and new branches, of which -the study of the national mind is one. Like the main trunk of psychology -and most of its branches, this branch has to become an empirical science -which shall take the place of what has long been regarded as a branch of -speculative philosophy and pursued by the deductive _a priori_ methods -of philosophy. In this case the branch of philosophy in question has -generally been called the Philosophy of History. It has been well said -by Fouillée that the Philosophy of History of the past is related to the -psychological social science, that is now beginning to take shape, as -alchemy was related to chemistry, or astrology to astronomy. That is to -say, it was a realm of obscure and fanciful ideas, of sweeping and -ill-based assumptions and slipshod reasoning. It was an elaborate -attempt "to lay the intellect to rest on a pillow of obscure ideas." -The task of scientific analysis and research was avoided by bringing in, -as the main explanatory principles or causal agencies, vaguely conceived -entities regarded as presiding over the development of peoples--such -entities as Providence, or the Destiny of nations, the _Genius_ of a -people, or the Instinct of a nation, the Unconscious Soul of a people, -or the Spirit of the Age; and, when the problem was to account for some -great secular change, for example, some change of national character, -nothing was commoner than to appeal to _Time_ itself, and thus to make -of this most empty of all abstractions a directive agency and an all -powerful cause of change. The strictly national gods of various nations -were popular conceptions of this order; the gods who directly intervened -in battles and enabled their chosen peoples to smite their enemies hip -and thigh so that not one was left alive. Of this class the "good old -German god" of the late German emperor was, it may be hoped, the last -example. - -In a less crude form similar hypotheses of direct supernatural -intervention have been seriously maintained in modern times. Thus the -poet Schiller argued as follows--"The individuals of whom a nation is -composed are dominated by egoism, each seeking only his own good, yet -their actions somehow secure the good of the whole; hence we must -believe that the history of a people unrolls itself beneath the glance -of a wisdom that looks on from afar, that knows how to control the -ill-regulated caprices of liberty by the laws of a directing necessity -and to make the particular ends pursued by individuals subservient to -the unconscious realisation of a general plan." - -In estimating the claims to consideration of a doctrine of this sort, we -must put aside its deleterious moral effects, the fact that its -acceptance would necessarily tend to weaken our sense of responsibility, -to paralyse altruistic effort, and to justify purely egoistic conduct. -We have to consider only its truth or probability in the light of -history. When we do that, it appears merely as a fictitious solution of -the larger problems of social science, a solution which may relieve us -of the necessity of intellectual effort, but which brings no -enlightenment and is supported by no serious argument. The one argument -advanced is a libel on human nature; for it denies the reality and -efficacy of the disinterested social efforts of the leaders of humanity, -to which its progress has been in the main due; and it ignores the great -mass of human activity due to the group spirit with its fusion of -egoistic and altruistic motives. Further, it ignores the fact that the -history of the world is not merely the history of the rise of nations, -but rather of the perpetual rise and _fall_ of nations. When we are told -that a power of this sort has constantly intervened in the course of -history, and that the rise of peoples has been due to its guidance, we -may fairly ask--Why has it repeatedly withdrawn its support, just when -civilisation has achieved such a degree of development as might have -rendered possible the flowering of all the finer capacities of human -nature and the alleviation of the hard lot of the great mass of men? If -the contemplation of the course of history compelled us to believe that -such a power intervenes, we should certainly have to regard it as a -malign power that delights in mocking human efforts by first encouraging -and then bringing them to naught. - -Very similar is the rôle in history assigned by von Hartmann to his -'Unconscious.' "It carries away the peoples that it dominates," says von -Hartmann, "with a demoniac power towards unknown ends; it teaches them -the way that they must take; though they often believe themselves to be -marching towards a goal very different from that to which they are being -conducted." - -Others maintain that the great men of a nation, who are the principal -agents in moulding its destiny, are in some mystical sense the products -and expressions of the 'unconscious soul' of the people, that they are -the means by which its ideas are realised, through which they become -effective; and they usually make the assertion, altogether unwarranted -by history, that the moment of great need in the life of a people always -produces a great man or hero to lead the people through the crisis. That -is, or may appear to be, true of those peoples that have survived to -pass into history. But what of those peoples that have gone down, -leaving no trace of all their strivings, beyond some mounds of rubble, -some few material monuments, or some strange marks on brick or stone or -rock? - -All such assumptions are the very negation of science. We have no right -to appeal to such obscure and mystical powers, until by prolonged effort -we shall have exhausted the possibilities of understanding and -explanation in terms of known forces and conditions[47]. - -On the other hand, a number of writers have sought to interpret the -course of history and the rise and fall of nations in a more scientific -manner; but most of these have studied some one aspect of national life, -and have professed to find in that one aspect the key which shall -unlock all doors and solve all problems. Thus some, adopting the notion -of a variety of human races, each endowed with a certain peculiar and -unalterable combination of qualities, seek to explain all history by the -aid of biological laws, especially the Darwinian principles, as a -struggle for survival between individuals and between races. Others, -like Karl Marx and Guizot, see in economic conditions and the struggles -between the social classes within each nation, the all important -factors. Others again, like Montesquieu and to some extent Buckle and -more recently Matteuzzi, have seen in the influences of physical -environment the key to the understanding of differences of national -character and history; while others profess to have found it in -differences of religious system, or of the forms of government and -systems of laws. Others again, like le Bon[48], in a few dominant ideas -which, they say, being possessed by any nation (or possessing a nation) -determine its character and civilisation. All these are exaggerations of -partial truths; and in opposition to all of them it must be laid down -that the understanding of the _mind_ of a nation is an indispensable -foundation for the interpretation of its history. - -Just as there are two kinds of psychology of individuals, so there are -two kinds of psychology of peoples. There is the individual psychology -which is primarily descriptive, which is the biography of persons, and -whose aim is to impart an accurate conception of the general tendencies -of a person and of the course of his development. And there is the -psychology whose aim is to explain in general terms the conduct of -individual men in general by the aid of conceptions and laws of general -validity. The former, of course, was developed much earlier than the -latter, which is in the main of quite modern growth. As this explanatory -psychology develops, its principles begin to find application in the -sphere of biographical or individual psychology, raising it also to the -explanatory plane. - -Just so there are two parallel kinds of psychology of peoples. There is -the descriptive psychology of the tendencies of particular peoples, the -biography of nations and peoples, which is what commonly is meant by -'history'; and there is the psychology which seeks to explain in general -terms how these tendencies arise, which seeks the general laws of which -these diverse national tendencies are the outcome. - -This last is the modern science which is beginning to take shape and to -undertake the task so inadequately dealt with by the so-called -Philosophy of History. It is essentially a branch, and by far the most -important part, of Group Psychology[49]. Now individual psychology tends -more and more to be a genetic psychology; because we do not feel that we -really understand the individual mind, until we know how it has come to -be what it is, until we know something of its development and racial -evolution. Just so the explanatory psychology of peoples must be a -genetic psychology. Here it differs from individual psychology in that -the distinction between individual development and racial evolution -disappears. For the national mind is a continuous growth; it is not -embodied in a temporal succession of individuals, but in a single -continuously evolving organism. - -Nevertheless, we may with advantage consider separately (1) the nature -of the general conditions necessary to the existence and operation of a -national mind; (2) the processes of evolution by which such minds are -formed and their peculiarities acquired. I propose to take up the former -problem in the following chapter. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -THE MIND OF A NATION - - -We have prepared ourselves for the study of the national mind by our -preliminary examination of the two extreme types of collective mental -life, that of the quite unorganised group, the simple crowd, on the one -hand, that of a very highly organised group, the army, on the other -hand. We have seen that in the former type the collective actions imply -a collective mental life much inferior, both intellectually and morally, -to that of the average component individuals; and that in the other type -they imply a collective mental life and capacities much superior to -those of the average individual. - -The mind of any nation occupies some intermediate position in the scale -of which these are the extreme types; and it differs from both in being -immensely more complex, and also in that the influence of the past -dominates and determines to a much greater extent the mental life of the -present. - -The study we have already made of collective mental life will enable us -to understand what we mean, or ought to mean, when we speak of national -character. There are two senses in which this phrase is used, and they -are often confused. On the one hand, the phrase may be used to denote -the character of individuals who are taken to be typical representatives -or average specimens of their nations. On the other hand, it may be -taken to mean the character of the nation as a collective whole or mind. -These two things are by no means the same; they are rather very -different. We saw that this was true in the case of the crowd and also -of the army; and it is true in a still higher degree of the nation than -of any other social aggregate, just because the influence of its past -over its present is greater than in any of the others. It is in the -second and preferable sense that Fouillée uses this expression. He -writes--"The national character is not the simple sum of the individual -characters. In the bosom of a strongly organised nation, there are -necessarily produced reciprocal actions between the individuals which -issue in a general manner of feeling, thinking and willing very -different from that of the individuals existing in isolation, or even -from the sum or resultant of all the mental actions of isolated -individuals. The national character is not simply the average type -which one would obtain if one could imitate for minds the procedure -adopted by Galton in the case of faces and so obtain a collective or -generic image. The face which the process of compound photography -produces exerts no action and is not a cause; while the national spirit -does exert an effect which is different from all effects of individual -minds; it is capable of exerting a sort of pressure and a constraint -upon the individuals themselves; it is not only an effect, but is also -in turn a cause; it is not only fashioned by individuals, it fashions -them in turn. The average type of the Frenchman existing to-day, for -example, does not adequately represent the French national character, -because each people has a history, and ancient traditions, and is -composed, as it is said, of the dead even more than of the living. The -French national character resumes the physical and social actions that -have been taking place through centuries, independently of the present -generation, and imposes itself upon this generation through all the -national ideas, the national sentiments and national institutions. It is -the weight of the entire history to which the individual is subjected in -his relations with his fellow citizens. Just, then, as the nation, as a -certain social group, has an existence different from (though not -separable from) the existence of the individuals, so the national -character implies that particular combination of mental forces of which -the national life is the external manifestation[50]." That is a precise -and admirable statement of what we are to understand by national mind -and character. - -We must now consider in turn the principal conditions of the existence -of highly developed national mind and character, and first those which, -as we have seen, are essential to all collective mental life. - -A certain degree of mental homogeneity of the group, some similarity of -mental constitution of the individuals composing it, is the prime -condition. The homogeneity essential to a nation may be one of two -kinds, native or acquired; both of these are usually combined, but one -of them predominates in some nations, the other in others. - -In considering racial or native homogeneity, we touch upon one aspect of -a much disputed question, the influence of race on national character -and history, in regard to which the greatest diversity of opinion has -prevailed and still prevails. A correct estimate of this influence is of -fundamental importance. I have stated elsewhere the view I take[51], -but we must consider the question more fully here. On the one hand are -those who would explain all differences of national character and -action, all success and failure of nations, as arising from racial -composition. This view is the basis of much of the ill-founded national -pessimism which, before the Great War, was widely prevalent among the -peoples who speak the Romance or Latin languages and who are falsely -called by these pessimists the Latin races. It was also the foundation -of that overweening national pride which has corrupted the German people -and led them to disgrace and disaster; for, following Gobineau[52] and a -host of his disciples, among whom H. S. Chamberlain is perhaps the most -notorious, they had come to believe, against the most obvious and -abundant evidence, that they were the purest representatives of a race -from whose blood all great men and all good things have come, a race -fitted by native superiority to rule all the peoples of the earth[53]. - -On the other hand, popular humanitarianism would regard all men and all -races as alike and equal in respect of native endowment; and we have -seen so distinguished a sociologist as Durkheim denying any importance -or influence to racial composition of a people. Many others put aside -all explanations based on racial differences as cheap and meretricious -means of avoiding difficulties. J. S. Mill, for example, wrote "Of all -vulgar modes of escaping from the consideration of the effect of social -and moral influences on the human mind, the most vulgar is that of -attributing the diversities of conduct and character to inherent natural -differences"; and Buckle, in his great work on the _History of -Civilisation_, quoted this remark with cordial approval[54]. - -Both these extreme views are false; the truth lies somewhere in the -midst between them. At the time when Mill and Buckle wrote, biology and -anthropology had not shown, as now they have, the enormous power of -heredity in determining individual character and the great persistence -of innate qualities through numberless generations. Buckle especially -overrated the power of physical environment, and Mill the power of -education and of social environment, to change the innate qualities of a -people; and it was this overestimation that led them, and leads others -still, to underestimate the importance of racial composition. There are -involved in this dispute two theses which are often confused together. -When people speak of the influence of 'race' on national character and -institutions, they may, and sometimes do, mean by 'race' the sum of -innate inborn qualities or tendencies of the people at any given point -of history. On the other hand, by influence of race they may mean the -influence of the prehistoric races which have entered into the social -composition of the nation--that is, those races from which its population -is descended. Some authors mean to deny importance to race in both these -senses; Buckle and Mill and Durkheim meant, I think, to deny it in both, -because they believed that human nature is very plastic and easily -moulded as regards its innate qualities by its environment; they -believed that, if only a system of institutions, especially educational -institutions, adapted to promote the intellectual and moral development -of each generation of a people, can be established among it, then the -influence of such institutions will so vastly predominate over that of -innate qualities that these become a negligible quantity. From this it -would follow that we should expect to see any two or more populations -endowed with similar institutions form nations of similar character -which will continue to develop along similar lines, except in so far as -minor unessential differences of physical environment produce -differences of modes of occupation, dress, food and so forth. - -This view of the insignificance of innate qualities was in harmony with, -and was determined by, the dominant psychological doctrine of the time; -the view which came down from Locke, according to which the mind of the -new-born individual is a _tabula rasa_, entirely similar in all men, -without specific tendencies and peculiarities of any importance, on -which individual experience impresses itself, moulding all its -development according to the principle of the association of ideas. - -This doctrine, explicitly or implicitly adopted, has played a great part -in determining British policy in its relations with British dependencies -and their populations, notably India. It is a striking example of the -way in which theory affects practice, and of the danger of our profound -indifference to theory; we are influenced by it though we pretend to -ignore it. It is well to make ourselves clear as to what theories we -hold, even if we do not allow our practice to be governed by them -exclusively. - -There are commonly confused together, under the head of the influence -of race on national character, three problems which must be -disentangled. - -(1) Are there differences of innate mental constitution between the -various branches of mankind? - -(2) If there are such differences, are these important for national -life? Do they in any considerable degree determine national character? -Or are they capable of being swamped and submerged and altogether -over-ridden by the moulding influences brought to bear by environment on -each generation? - -(3) If such innate differences exist, what degree of permanence do they -possess? Do they persist through thousands of years, in spite of vast -changes of physical or cultural conditions? Or may they undergo -considerable modification or complete transformation in the course of a -few generations? - -These are questions of fundamental importance. And they admit of no -positive clean-cut answers at the present time. They offer vast fields -for research, and only when prolonged research shall have been directed -to them shall we be able to answer them positively. - -In the past, since their importance could not be altogether overlooked, -it has been usual to dispose of them by dogmatically asserting one -extreme view and pouring scornful epithets upon the other extreme view. -A principal task for science in its present stage is to define the -questions clearly. It is not possible, perhaps, to keep them quite -separate; for, if there are considerable differences of innate mental -constitution, then their importance for national character must depend -greatly upon their degree of permanence; and, again, there is the great -difficulty of distinguishing between innate and acquired mental -qualities in any individual and still more in groups. - -Nevertheless, we may safely say that both extreme views in regard to -race, the positive and the negative, are gross exaggerations, plausible -only while we ignore one part of the evidence; the truth lies in between -somewhere. - -There can, I think, be no reasonable doubt that there are great -differences between races, and that these may be, and in many cases have -been, persistent through thousands of generations. - -The recognition that the mind of the human infant is not a _tabula -rasa_, but that its innate constitution comprises a number of instincts, -specifically directed tendencies to thought, feeling, and action, -prepares us to accept this view and gives us some basis for the -definition of these differences. Whether all differences can be defined -in such terms is a further problem. That they cannot be wholly defined -in this way seems to be obvious, when we consider how quite specialised -idiosyncrasies are transmitted in families through several generations, -often with a leap across one generation, peculiarities of taste and -feeling, of aesthetic endowment and temperament, abilities such as the -musical, mathematical and artistic. - -When we compare widely different peoples such as the Negro, the White, -and the Yellow, the fact of profound differences cannot be overlooked. -These differences cannot be ascribed to the action of environment upon -each generation. Perhaps the only differences of this kind which at -present are accurately measurable are those of the size and form of the -brain. The negro brain is decidedly smaller than that of the white and -yellow races. And there are small but distinct differences of sensory -endowment which are highly significant. For, if there are racial -differences in these most fundamental and racially oldest endowments, we -may expect still greater differences in the later evolved powers of the -mind; although these are much more difficult to detect and define. - -Still, the negro race wherever found does present certain specific -mental peculiarities roughly definable, especially the happy-go-lucky -disposition, the unrestrained emotional violence and responsiveness, -whether its representatives are found in tropic Africa, in the jungles -of Papua, or in the highly civilised conditions of American cities. - -The Semitic stock again is one which, though widely scattered, seems to -present certain constant peculiarities. And among closely allied -branches of the white race of similar culture, we can hardly refuse to -recognise innate differences. Differences of temperament are, perhaps, -the clearest and the most generally recognised, even between peoples of -allied stock and similar civilisation. Who can question that Irishmen in -general are very different from Englishmen in temperament, that they are -less phlegmatic, more easily moved to joy, or sorrow, or enthusiasm, -more easily touched by poetry, have a more varied and lively emotional -experience? That this is an innate racial difference seems clear; for it -can be accounted for in no other way, and it obtains in some degree -between all communities of similar racial stocks, in spite of -similarities or differences of history and of present conditions. For -example, similar differences, roughly definable as the difference -between the so-called Celtic temperament and the Anglo-Saxon, seem -evidently to obtain between the Breton and the Norman, who represent in -the main the same two stocks. - -And, even in intellectual quality, there appear to be not only -differences of degree, but also differences of kind, inexplicable save -as racial differences. The logical deductive tendencies of the French -intellect and the empirical inductive tendency of the English, seem to -be rooted in race; though here of course tradition accumulates and -accentuates such differences from generation to generation. - -But the best evidence of persistent innate differences is afforded by -differences and similarities expressed in national life which cannot be -accounted for in any other way. The innate differences and peculiarities -of individuals are largely obscured by these national characteristics. -And the more highly organised the collective life of any people, the -more clearly will it express their racial qualities. - -The social environment in a developed nation is in harmony with the -individual innate tendencies, because in the main it is the natural -outcome and expression of those tendencies. For, throughout the history -of such a nation, the elements of its social environment--its customs, -beliefs, institutions, language, its culture in general--have been slowly -evolved under the steady pressure of the individual innate tendencies, -which in each succeeding generation are the same. A part of this culture -is of native origin; a part, in every European nation probably by far -the larger part, is of foreign origin, and has been acquired by the -acceptance of ideas and beliefs from without its borders, by the copying -of institutions, customs, arts, from foreign models. In both cases the -idea or custom or other cultural element only becomes embodied in the -national culture through widespread or general imitation[55]. - -In the case of elements of native origin, it is by imitation of the -individuals of original powers of thought or feeling that the element -becomes embodied in the national culture; in the case of foreign -elements, by imitation of foreign models, acceptance of foreign ideas, -through literature and personal contacts. In both cases, such general -imitation will only take place when the culture-element in question is -more or less congenial to the innate qualities of the bulk of -individuals. All other novel elements will be ignored, or will fail to -propagate themselves successfully; if they obtain a first footing, they -will fail to pass beyond the stage of fashion into that of custom. And, -when once accepted, the cultural element will usually undergo -modification in the direction of more complete harmony with the innate -tendencies; its less congenial features will be allowed to die out, its -more congenial will be accentuated from generation to generation. - -The social environment of any civilised people is, then, very largely -the result of a long continued process of selection, comparable with the -natural selection by which, according to the Darwinian theory, animal -species are evolved; a constant favouring of certain elements, a -constant rejection of others. We may in fact regard each distinctive -type of civilisation as a species, evolved largely by selection; and the -selective agency, which corresponds to and plays a part analogous to the -part of the physical environment of an animal species, is the innate -mental constitution of the people. The sum of innate qualities is the -environment of the culture-species, and it effects a selection among all -culture variations, determining the survival and further evolution of -some, the extermination of others. And, just as animal species -(especially men) modify their physical environment in course of time, -and also devise means of sheltering themselves from its selective -influence, so each national life, each species of civilisation, modifies -very gradually the innate qualities of the people and builds up -institutions which, the more firmly they are established and the more -fully they are elaborated, override and prevent the more completely the -direct influence of innate qualities on national life. - -These principles are illustrated, perhaps, most clearly by the spread -and modification of religious systems among peoples of different races. -Take the case of the Moslem religion, which has gained acceptance among -one-sixth of the population of the world in historic and in fact recent -times, and is still spreading. The leading feature of this system is its -acceptance of all that is and happens as being the will of God, the act -of an entirely arbitrary, inscrutable, and absolutely powerful -individual, before which men must simply bow without question or -criticism; it is characterised by its simplicity and its fatalism. There -seems good reason to believe that the tendency to unquestioning -obedience to authority is a strong innate tendency of most Asiatics -(except perhaps the Chinese and their relatives), far stronger than in -most individuals of European peoples; for we see it expressed in many -ways in their institutions and history, both of those who are and those -who are not Moslems[56]; and Asiatic fatalism has, in fact, become -proverbial. With the causes or origin of this innate quality we are not -now concerned; but, accepting it as a fact, we may note that it is among -Asiatics that Mohammedanism has secured the great mass of its converts; -and that in India, in spite of many minor features that are opposed to -the spirit of Hindooism, it continues to spread largely; while -Christianity makes but little progress. Buddhism on the other hand has -almost faded away, after an initial success in the country of its -origin, but has continued to gain adherents and has become the dominant -religion among the yellow peoples further east, in Burma, China, Thibet, -Japan. The Moslem religion, having been thus accepted in virtue of the -fact that its dominant tendency is in harmony with the strong innate -tendency to unquestioning submission to a supreme will, then accentuates -this tendency in all its converts, moulding their political relations to -the same type, so that all recognise one earthly regent of God; and it -has led to the almost complete suppression of any spark of the spirit of -inquiry and scepticism that might otherwise display itself among these -peoples. - -Another good illustration of the fact is afforded by the distribution of -the two great divisions of the Christian religion in Western Europe. -Among all the disputes and uncertainties of the ethnographers about the -races of Europe, one fact stands out clearly--namely, that we can -distinguish a race of northerly distribution and origin, characterised -physically by fair colour of hair and skin and eyes, by tall stature and -dolichocephaly (i.e. long shape of head) and mentally by great -independence of character, individual initiative, and tenacity of will. -Many names have been used to denote this type, but the usefulness of -most of them has been spoilt through their application to denote -linguistic groups (e.g. Indo-Germanic, Aryan), and by the false -assumption that linguistic groups are racial groups. Hence recently the -term _Homo Europaeus_, first applied by Linnaeus to this type, has come -into favour; and perhaps it is the best term to use, since this type -seems to be exclusively European. It is also called the Nordic type. - -The rest of the population of Europe, with the exception of some peoples -in the extreme north and east of partly mongoloid or yellow racial -origin, seems to be chiefly derived from two stocks. Of these, the one -type, which occupies chiefly the central regions, is most commonly -denoted by the name _Homo Alpinus_; the other, chiefly in the south, by -the name _Homo Mediterraneus_. Both are of dark or brunette complexion -and the principal physical difference between them is that the former, -_H. Alpinus_, has a short broad head (i.e. is brachycephalic) and also -is of short stature; while the latter, _H. Mediterraneus_, is -long-headed like the northern type and is perhaps taller than _H. -Alpinus_. Mentally both these differ from the northern or European type -in having less independence and initiative, a greater tendency to rely -upon and seek guidance from authority[57]. Now we find that the -distribution of the Protestant variety of Christianity coincides very -nearly with the regions in which the fair type predominates; while in -all other regions the Roman Catholic or Greek orthodox churches hold -undisputed sway. North and South Germany illustrate the point. And -Motley's account of the Netherlands shows how closely the line between -Protestant Holland and Roman Catholic Belgium coincides with the line of -racial division. We may note also that 'Celts' of Ireland and Scotland -early proved the superior strength of their religious tendencies by -sending missionaries to England. - -It would be absurd to hold that this coincidence is fortuitous. It is -clearly due to the assimilation of the form of the religious and -ecclesiastical system to the innate tendencies of the people. The -northern peoples have given the system a turn compatible with the -independence of spirit which is their leading racial quality; and among -ourselves the tendency is apt to be pushed to an anarchical extreme in -the rise of numerous small peculiar sects; this we must connect with the -fact that the English represent in greatest purity the most independent -branch of the Northern race. - -The peoples among whom the other racial elements predominate have -developed and maintained a religion of authority. And it is clear how, -this differentiation having been achieved, either form of religion -favours and accentuates in the peoples among whom it has become -established the innate tendencies that have shaped it. The religion of -authority tends, both by its general teachings and by the deliberate -efforts of its official representatives, to suppress the spirit of -independent thought and inquiry and action; the Protestant religion, -relatively at least, favours the development of the independent -tendencies of individuals. This is not to say that any individual is a -Mohammedan or a Protestant, because he belongs to this or that race; -that would be a parody of my statement. The form of each man's religious -belief is, in the vast majority of cases, determined for him by the fact -of his growing up within a community in which that form of belief -prevails. My thesis is that in the main the racial qualities of each -community have played a great part in determining which form of belief -it shall accept. If the reader will reflect how, at the time of the -Reformation, various communities hung for a time in the balance, he will -see that the innate differences we have noted may well have played the -determining rôle. - -The same facts are illustrated by the political life of the European -peoples. Only those among whom the northern race is predominant have -developed individualistic forms of political and social organisation. -Among the rest there appears clearly the tendency to rely upon the -supreme authority of the state and to look to it for all initiative and -guidance, a tendency to centralised and paternal administration; and -this is the same, whether the external form of the political -organisation be a monarchy or a republic. Thus France, in becoming a -republic, did not overthrow the centralised system perfected by Henry -IV, Louis XIV, Richelieu and Napoleon; for that system was congenial to -the innate qualities of the mass of the people. It is clear that the -centralised and therefore rigid system of government tends to -accentuate, among the people subjected to it, their tendency to rely on -authority and to repress individual initiative; while the other form, -such as obtains in this country and still more in the United States of -America, tends to the development of the initiative and independence of -individuals, giving them free scope and throwing them upon their own -resources. Among any people, an institution or other cultural element -that has had a history of this kind will, then, cause a great -development in the mass of individuals of just those innate or racial -tendencies of which it is itself the slowly accumulated result or -product. - -If a nation is composed from stocks not too diverse, or if the original -stocks have fused by intercrossing and have produced a fairly -homogeneous people; and if this nation has enjoyed a long period of -natural evolution undisturbed by violent influences from outside, -conquests or invasions or immigrations on a great scale; then the social -environment will have been brought in the main into harmony with the -innate qualities of the people, and it will mould the individuals of -each generation very strongly, accentuating and confirming those innate -tendencies. This for two reasons. First, the social environment will be -strongly organised and homogeneous; that is to say, the various -elements, the beliefs, customs, institutions, and arts that go to -compose it, will be in harmony with one another and of strongly marked -character; and they will be almost universally accepted by that people -as above criticism. Secondly, the institutions and customs have not to -fight against the innate tendencies of the people in the formation of -the adult minds, but co-operate harmoniously with them. - -Now, when authors dispute over the question of the influence of race in -determining the nation, they usually fail to distinguish clearly between -the direct effects and the indirect effects of racial qualities. - -Those who, like Mill, attribute to the social environment unlimited -power of moulding individuals and who regard the influence of race as -insignificant, are misled by the contemplation of such nations as we -have been considering, the class of which our own is the most notable -example, nations in which a strongly organised social environment makes -in the direction of the innate tendencies. They overlook the fact that -in any such nation the social environment, the body of institutions and -traditions, is in the main the outcome and expression of these innate -tendencies; they fail to see that the racial tendencies exert their -strongest influence on national thought and action by means of the -institutions, customs, and traditions on the growth of which they have -exerted a constant directive pressure throughout many generations. In -order to realise fully the influence of race, we must consider peoples -whose culture and much else that enters into their social environment -has been impressed upon them from without. We then see how little the -social environment can accomplish in the moulding of a people, when it -is not congenial to and in harmony with the racial tendencies. - -The modern world contains certain instructive instances, of which Hayti -is perhaps the most striking. There a circumscribed population of negro -race has had a political and social and religious organisation and the -elements of higher culture impressed upon it by Europeans, in the belief -that it would be possible to construct a social environment which would -mould the people. France, at a time of revolutionary enthusiasm for -liberty, equality, and fraternity, withdrew from the island and granted -the people self-government. The consequence has been a rapid relapse -into barbarism and savagery of the worst kinds[58]. - -It was the ignoring of the importance of race and the overestimation of -the moulding influence of culture and institutions, eloquently voiced -by Lord Macaulay, that led England eighty years ago to set out on the -task of endowing the millions of India with British culture and -institutions. The task has been pursued in a half-hearted manner only; -but already we see some of the incongruity of the results of these -efforts; and the best observers assure us that, were the task -accomplished and the reins of a representative government left in native -hands, it would be but a few years before the whole country would be -reduced to a chaotic anarchic condition no better than that in which we -found it. Others go further and assert with some plausibility that -Western culture is positively injurious to the intellect and moral -nature of Indians[59]. - -In the Philippines the Americans seem to have applied similar mistaken -ideas in a reckless fashion in the first years of their administration; -with the result that, according to some accounts, they were in a fair -way to plunge those islands into poverty and debt and chronic rebellion, -while failing to secure affection, trust, or respect for themselves. - -We must conclude, then, that innate mental constitution, and therefore -race, is of fundamental importance in determining national character, -not so much directly as indirectly; for it gives a constant bias to the -evolution of the social environment, and, through it, moulds the -individuals of each generation. It will help to make clear the influence -of innate qualities, if, by an effort of imagination, we suppose every -English child to have been exchanged at birth for an infant of some -other nation (say the French) during some fifty years. At the end of -that period the English nation would be composed of individuals of -purely French origin or blood; it would have the innate qualities of the -present French nation; and the French nation would be, in the same -sense, English. What would be the effect? Presumably things would go on -much as before for a time. There would be no sudden transformation of -our language, our laws, our religious or political institutions; and -those who make little of the influence of race might point to this -result as a convincing demonstration of the truth of their view. But -gradually, we must suppose, certain changes would appear; in the course -of perhaps a century there would be an appreciable assimilation of -English institutions to those of France at the present day, for example, -the Roman Catholic religion would gain in strength at the cost of the -Protestant. - -This view has been challenged and described as an extreme view[60]. But -it is not. Both extreme opposite views continue to be maintained just -because the importance of the indirect cumulative effect of innate -qualities on culture is ignored. The innate qualities are of great -importance, but only in the course of centuries can they exert their -full effect on culture. - -If then innate qualities have this importance, in what degree are they -permanent? Here again two extreme views remain opposed to one another. -Even as regards physical qualities this is still the case; and the -problem is much more difficult and at the same time infinitely more -important as regards mental qualities. One reason for the belittling of -innate qualities by Mill and Buckle, and for their overweening -confidence in the power of institutions and environment, was the opinion -generally prevailing in their time that, in so far as racial -peculiarities exist, they can be modified and transformed in a few -generations by physical and social environment. - -But, when, under the influence of Welshman's theories, the majority of -biologists came to the conclusion that acquired qualities are not -transmitted, the position of the 'race theorisers' was immensely -strengthened. For selection, natural or social or artificial, remained -as the only recognised cause of change of racial qualities; and, since -it is clear that the development of civilisation tends to bring to an -end the operation of natural selection, owing to the more efficient -shielding of the weaker by the stronger members of societies, and since -no other form of selection seems to have operated forcibly to change -race qualities, it was inferred that race qualities endure throughout -long ages with very little change. - -Another revolution of opinion has had a similar effect. One of the old -assumptions which seemed to justify the belief in rapid modifiability of -race qualities was that the difference of culture between ourselves and -our savage ancestors corresponds to, and is the expression of, an almost -equally great difference of innate capacities, intellectual and moral. -But this was in the main a misunderstanding. One well established fact -suffices to show its improbability--namely, the larger size of the brains -of Palæolithic men as compared with our own. Our superiority of -civilisation is due to slow accumulation, each generation adding -comparatively little to the mass of intellectual and moral tradition -which it inherits and passes on to later coming generations. In so far -as differences of cultural level are associated with differences of -level of innate intellectual and moral qualities, cultural superiority -must be regarded as the effect, rather than the cause, of innate mental -superiority. There are strong grounds for holding that, in so far as -Europeans are innately superior to negroes, that superiority was -achieved not by means of, and in the process of, the development of, -civilisation; but rather before civilisation began; and that the -principal mental differences of the various human stocks were, like -their principal physical differences, produced in the course of the -immensely long ages of human life that preceded the dawn of -civilisation, or at any rate of history, ages compared with which the -historic period is but a very brief span. - -This view--namely, that there has been no great change, and certainly no -great increase, of the mental powers of men during the historic -period--was forcibly maintained by Dr A. R. Wallace[61]. Wallace pointed -to the pyramids of Egypt and other great achievements of earlier -civilisations, such as writing, as evidence of the highly developed -intellectual powers of men thousands of years before the Christian era. -He concluded that the men of the early stone age were probably our -equals, intellectually and morally, in respect to innate qualities. - -If, then, so little change of man's mental constitution has been -produced in the course of many thousand years, even though the growth of -civilisation has so profoundly modified his mode of life and the nature -of his pursuits, that is good evidence of the great persistency of -racial mental qualities. But we have more direct evidence of their -persistence. As Wallace points out, the negro and the yellow races are -scattered over many parts of the earth, and, though these regions -present great diversities of physical environment, men of either of the -two races everywhere present the same mental peculiarities or strong -similarities, for example, the Papuan and African and American negroes. -And the characteristic differences between the two races are not -diminished even where, as in the islands of the far East, they have been -subjected to the same physical environment and modes of life for long -periods of time. In the eastern Archipelago, Papuans and Malayans -occupying the same or adjoining islands are cited by Wallace as -illustrating the persistence of racial mental differences; and I can -bear out his remarks from my own observations in that region. - -But we must beware of excess in the direction of the unalterability of -race. The dogma of the non-transmissibility of acquired qualities is by -no means established; it seems not improbable that mental acquisitions -are so transmitted in some degree, though with only very slight effect -in each generation. Even now, when the difficulties of the principle of -transmission of acquired qualities are generally understood, almost all -those who deal with the problem of the genesis of mental and physical -peculiarities of races find themselves driven to postulate the principle -in order to explain the facts. And this in itself constitutes evidence -of a certain value in support of the validity of the principle. - -Again, we must beware of assuming that there are no selective processes -operating among us. Although natural selection may be almost -inoperative, there may well be at work other forms of selection, social -selections; and these are specially powerful amongst populations of -blended stocks. - -Summing up on the durability of racial peculiarities, we may say that -racial qualities are extremely persistent; but that, nevertheless, they -are subject to slow modifications when the conditions of life are -greatly changed, as by emigration, or by changes of climate, or by -social revolutions, and especially among populations of mixed origin. - -To return now to the question of mental homogeneity of a population as a -condition of national character and collective mental life. Purity of -race is the most obvious condition of such homogeneity; but few, if any, -nations that have attained any high level of civilisation have been -racially homogeneous; probably for the simple reason that the -civilisation of such a nation would crystallise at an early stage into -rigid forms which would render further progress impossible. This has -been the fate of most civilisations of the past; as Walter Bagehot put -it, their cake of custom has so hardened as to become brittle, incapable -of partial modification and growth, so that, like a crystal, it must -either resist completely every modifying influence or be shattered -irretrievably[62]. - -Certainly none of the European nations are racially homogeneous. -Nevertheless, some of them approach homogeneity of innate qualities, or, -rather, the degree of heterogeneity is much less in some than in others. -Consider the case of England. Before the Anglo-Saxon invasion the -population consisted in all probability of a mixture of the northern -fair race with a darker race, probably that of _H. Mediterraneus_, in -some proportion that we cannot determine, with small islands of _H. -Alpinus_ or of stocks formed by an earlier blending of this with the -Nordic race. The Anglo-Saxon invasion brought great numbers of the pure -representatives of the Northern race of closely allied stocks; and these -did not confine themselves to any one region, but, entering at many -points of the south and east coasts, diffused themselves throughout -almost all England, imposing themselves as masters upon those Britons -whom they did not drive out. Ever since that time a crossing of the -stocks has been going on freely, little hindered by differences of area, -language, law, or custom. And, with the exception of small numbers of -the Northern stock, Danes and Normans, the population has not received -any considerable additions since the Saxon invasion. - -Now it has been shown by a simple calculation that, given three -generations to the century, each one of us might claim ten million -ancestors in the year 1000 A.D.; while in the fifth century, when this -process of intermarriage began, the number would be enormous, some -thousands of millions; that is, if consanguine marriages had never taken -place. These figures make it clear that, in any mixed population in -which intermarriage takes place freely, the two or more stocks must, -after a comparatively brief period of time, become thoroughly blended, -on one condition--namely, that the cross between the pure stocks is a -stable stock, fertile _inter se_ and with both the parent stocks. There -seems to be no doubt that this was the case with the British and the -Anglo-Saxon stocks, and that the English form now a stable new subrace, -or secondary race, in which the qualities of the northern race -predominate. The subrace may be regarded as innately homogeneous in -fairly high degree; not so homogeneous as a people of unmixed racial -origin, or one formed by a blending of more remote date, but more so -than most of the European nations. This is the sense in which we must -understand the word race, in discussing the influence of race upon -national character. - -In most of the European countries the original mixture of races has been -greater and the degree of blending less intimate. Thus France has the -three stocks, _H. Europaeus_, _Alpinus_, _Mediterraneus_, all largely -represented; but they have remained in some degree geographically -separated in three belts running east and west[63]. Hence there are -greater innate mental differences between Frenchmen than between -Englishmen. Nevertheless the strength of the Roman civilisation of Gaul -sufficed to abolish differences of language and institutions and to -assimilate the later coming Northmen, Franks and Normans; while the -centralised system of administration, established in accordance with the -innate tendencies of the major part of the population, has completed the -work of a long series of national wars, and has produced a firmly united -nation, bound by common traditions and moulded by common institutions. -The greater centralisation of France seems to have compensated for the -less degree of innate uniformity, so that the French people is hardly, -if at all, less truly a nation than our own. - -In our own nation one racial cleft still remains. The Irish have never -undergone that intimate mixture and blending with the Anglo-Saxon stock -which has produced the English subrace; and so they remain an element -which seriously disturbs the harmony of the national mind. And the same -is perhaps true in a less degree of the Welsh people. On the other hand, -the Scottish people, although they enjoyed their independent system of -government for much longer periods than the Irish and Welsh and have a -system of laws and customs differing in many respects from the English, -and indeed may be said to have achieved a considerable degree of -independent nationhood, have nevertheless become thoroughly incorporated -in the British nation; for in the main mass of the Scotch the same -Northern race is the greatly predominant element. - -But it is not till we consider such a country as Austria-Hungary that we -see the full importance of homogeneity of a people for the development -of a national mind. There several races and subraces, one at least with -a strong yellow strain, are grouped together under one flag; but they -remain separated by language and by distribution and by tradition, and, -therefore, are but little mixed and still less blended. Under such -conditions a national mind cannot be formed. The elements of different -racial stock threaten to fall apart at any moment[64]. - -Going further afield, contrast India with China, two regions -geographically comparable in area and in density of population and in -other ways. The population of China is the most racially homogeneous of -all large populations in the world. Hence an extreme uniformity of -culture and social environment, which still further accentuates the -uniformity of mental type. Hence, in spite of the imperfection of means -of communication, we find great political stability and a considerable -degree of national feeling, likely to be followed before long by -harmonious national thought and action on the part of this vast nation. -The one great distracting and disturbing factor in the life of China has -been the intrusion of the Manchus, a people of somewhat different race -and traditions. - -On the other hand, India is peopled by many different stocks, and, -although these are geographically much mixed, they are but very little -blended, owing to the prevalence from early times of the caste system. -The light coloured intellectual Brahman lives side by side with small -black folk, as different physically and mentally as the Englishman and -the Hottentot; and there are also large numbers of other widely -differing racial stocks, including some of yellow race. Hence an extreme -diversity of social environment, save in the case of the Moslem -converts, who, however, being scattered among the rest, do but increase -the endless variety of custom, creed, and social environment. Hence the -people of India have never been bound together in the slightest degree, -save purely externally by the power of foreign conquerors, the Moguls -and the British; and hence, even though nations have begun at various -times to take form in various areas, as e.g. the Sikh nation, they have -never achieved any high degree of permanence and stability and are -restricted in area and numbers. - -Now let us consider for a moment an apparent exception from the -conclusion to which the foregoing argument seems to point--namely, that -homogeneity of innate qualities is the prime condition of a developed -and harmonious national life. - -The most striking exception is afforded by the people of the United -States of America, or the American nation. There we see a great area -populated by immigrants from every part and race of Europe in times so -recent that, although they are pretty well mixed, they are but little -blended by crossing; a considerable part of the population still -consisting of actual immigrants and their children. Here, then, there -can be no question of any homogeneity as regards innate mental -qualities. Nevertheless, the people is truly a nation and, perhaps, -further advanced in the evolution of national consciousness, thought, -and action than many other of the civilised peoples. This we must -attribute to homogeneity of mental qualities which is in the main not -innate but acquired, a uniformity of acquired qualities, especially of -all those that are most important for national life. - -Following Münsterberg's recent account of _The Psychology of the -American People_ we may recognise as individual characteristics, almost -universally diffused, a spirit of self-direction and selfconfidence, of -independence and initiative of a degree unknown elsewhere, a marvellous -optimism or hopefulness both in private and public affairs, a great -seriousness tinged with religion, a humourousness, an interest in the -welfare of society, a high degree of self-respect, and a pride and -confidence in the present and still more in the future of the nation; an -intense activity and a great desire for self-improvement; a truly -democratic spirit which regards all men (or rather all _white_ men) as -essentially or potentially equal, and a complete intolerance of caste. - -Such high degree of acquired homogeneity of individual qualities seems -to be due in about equal parts to uniformity of social and of physical -environment, both of which make strongly in the same direction. The -physical environment consists in a great and rich territory, still only -partially developed, a fairly uniform climate, and a uniformity of the -physical products of human labour resulting from the immense development -of the means of communication. The importance of the physical uniformity -we may realize on reflecting that the one great divergence of physical -conditions, the sub-tropical climate of the southern States, gave rise -to the one great and dangerous division of the people which for a time -threatened the harmonious development of the national life; that is to -say, the civil war was due to the divergence of the social system and -economic interests of the southern States resulting from their -sub-tropical climate. - -The uniformity of social environment we must ascribe, firstly and -chiefly, to the fortunate circumstance that the first immigrants were -men of one well marked and highly superior type, men who possessed in -the fullest measure the independence of character and the initiative of -the fair northern race, and who firmly established the superior social -environment of individualistic type that had been gradually evolved in -England. Secondly, to the fact that the peopling of the whole country -has taken place by diffusion from this strongly organised initial -society; its institutions and ideas, especially its language, its -political freedom, its social seriousness, being carried everywhere. -Thirdly, to the fact that the country was just such as to give the -greatest scope to, and so to develop, these innate tendencies of the -earliest settlers and their successors. Fourthly, to the fact that the -great diffusion of the population of mixed origin has only taken place -since the means of communication have become very highly developed. -Consider, as one example of the effects of the ease of communication -between all parts, the influence of the American Sunday newspapers. -These papers are read on an enormous scale all over the continent; and -the bulk of the contents of those published in different places is -identical, being prepared and printed in New York, or other great city, -and then sent out to be blended with a little local matter in each -centre of publication; thus every Sunday morning vast numbers are -reading the same stuff. Lastly, it must be added, it is largely due to -the fact that in the main the population has been recruited by those -elements of different European peoples who shared in some degree the -leading tendencies of the American character, independence, initiative, -energy and hopefulness; for it is only such people who will tear -themselves from their places in an old civilisation and face the unknown -possibilities of a distant continent. In spite of an increasing -proportion of emigrants of a rather unlike type from south-eastern -Europe, there seems good ground for hope that these factors will -continue to secure a sufficient uniformity of acquired qualities, until -the diverse elements shall have been fused by intermarriage to a new and -stable subrace, innately homogeneous. - -The Americans are, then, no exception to the rule that the evolution of -a national mind presupposes a certain considerable degree of homogeneity -of mental qualities among the individuals of which the nation is -composed. They merely show that, under peculiarly favourable physical -and social conditions, a sufficient degree of such homogeneity may -perhaps be secured in spite of considerable racial heterogeneity. But -the favourable issue of the vast experiment is not yet completely -assured. - -There remains in the American people one great section of the -population, namely the negroes and the men of partly negro descent, -whose innate qualities, mental and physical, are so different from those -of the rest of the population, that it seems to be incapable of -absorption into the nation. This section remains within the nation as a -foreign body which it can neither absorb nor extrude and which is a -perpetual disturber and menace to the national life. The only hope of -solving this difficult problem seems to lie in the possibility of -territorial segregation of the coloured population in an area in which -it might, with assistance from the American people, form an independent -nation. At present it illustrates in the most forcible manner the thesis -of this chapter. - -The geographical peculiarities of the country inhabited by a nation may -greatly favour, or may make against, homogeneity, in so far as this -depends on acquired interests and sentiments. - -The division of the territory occupied by a nation by any physical -barrier makes against homogeneity and therefore against national unity; -whereas absence of internal barriers and the presence of well marked -natural boundaries afford conditions the most favourable to homogeneity. - -Almost all the great and stable nations have occupied well-defined -natural territories. In Great Britain and Japan the national spirit is -perhaps more developed than elsewhere. How much does Great Britain or -Japan owe this to the insular character of its territory, which from -early days has sharply marked off the people from all others, making of -them a well-defined and closed group, within which free intermarriage -has given homogeneity of innate qualities, and within which a national -culture has grown up undisturbed; so that by mental and physical type, -and by language, religion, tradition and sentiment, the people are -sharply marked off from all others, and assimilated to one another! - -A unitary well-defined territory of well marked and fairly uniform -character tends to national unity, not only through making the community -a relatively closed one, but also by aiding the imagination to grasp the -idea of the nation and offering a common object to the affections and -sentiments of the people. - -Contrast in this respect the physical characters of England and Germany. -The boundaries of the latter are almost everywhere artificial and -arbitrary and have fluctuated greatly. It would be impossible for a poet -to write of Germany as Shakespeare wrote of England:-- - - This fortress built by Nature for herself - Against infection and the hand of war; - This happy breed of men, this little world, - This precious stone set in the silver sea, - -and all the rest of that splendid passage. France, Spain, Italy, Greece, -Denmark, Scandinavia, are all more fortunate than Germany or Austria in -this respect; and the lack of such natural boundaries has been in the -past, and threatens to be in the future, a source of weakness to the -German nation. We may, I think, not improbably attribute, in part at -least, to this circumstance a peculiarity often noticed in German -emigrants--namely, that they rapidly become denationalised and -assimilated by the peoples among whom they settle, and that an -Americanised German, for example, has often less sympathetic feeling for -Germany than a foreigner. For, owing largely to the lack of natural -boundaries and the consequent fluctuations that have occurred, and the -mingling and blending with other peoples, Germany is a less clear-cut -conception than Great Britain or France; to be a German is something -much less definite than to be an Englishman or a Japanese, or even a -Frenchman or a Spaniard[65]. And the presence or lack of definite -natural territorial boundaries operates in a similar way through many -centuries, determining on the one hand historical continuity to a people -as a whole, or on the other hand breaches of historical continuity. - -The United States of America afford a fine example of the binding -influence of a well-defined territory; for here the effect is clearly -isolated from racial factors and from slowly accumulated tradition. The -Monroe doctrine is the outward official expression of this effect. The -private individual effect is a sense of part ownership of a splendid -territory with a great future before it. And we are told, I believe -truly, that this sense is very strong and very generally diffused even -among immigrants; that it inspires an unselfish enthusiasm for the work -of developing the immense resources of the country; that this is the -idealistic motive of much of the intense activity which we are apt to -ascribe to the love of the 'almighty dollar'; and that it is one of the -main causes of the rapid assimilation of immigrants to the national type -of mind. - -The Chinese nation, again, owes its existence and its homogeneity of -mental and physical type to geographical unity. Roughly, China consists -of the basins of two immense rivers, not separated from one another by -any great physical barrier, but forming a compact territory well marked -off save in the north. It comprises no such partially separate areas as -in Europe are constituted by Spain, or Italy, or Greece, or Scandinavia, -or even France; almost all parts are well adapted for agriculture. -Hence, largely, the national unity and the national sentiment which have -long existed, and possibly a latent capacity for national thought and -action. - -Perhaps the most striking instance of all is ancient Egypt. There, in -the long strip of land rendered fertile by the waters of the Nile, a -people of mixed origin was long shut up and isolated; there all men felt -their immediate dependence on the same great powers, the great river -which once a year overflows its banks, and the scorching sun which -passes every day across a cloudless sky. There all men looked out on -the same unvarying and unvaried landscape, hoped and feared for the same -causes, suffered the same pains, prayed for the same goods. There was -formed one of the most stable and enduring of nations, whose uniform -culture certainly bears the impress of the uniform monotonous physical -environment[66]. - -The other way in which physical environment affects homogeneity is by -determining similarity or difference of occupations and, through them, -similarities or differences of practical interests and of acquired -qualities. So long as such differences are determined in many small -areas, the result is merely a greater differentiation of the parts, -without danger to the unity of the whole nation. But, when the physical -differences divide a whole people into two or more locally separate -groups differing in occupation and interests and habits, they endanger -the unity of the whole. There are to-day many countries in which the -distribution of mineral wealth is exerting an influence of this sort, -giving rise to the differentiation of an industrial area from -agricultural areas and a consequent divergence of interests and of -mental habits; notably South Africa, Spain, and Italy. - -Great Britain is fortunate in this respect also. Its geological -formation presents on a small scale all the principal strata from the -oldest to the most recent, a fact which secures great diversity within a -compact area, an area too compact to allow of divergences of population -being produced by differences of geological formation; so that it enjoys -the advantages of diversity without its drawbacks. Although a certain -degree of differentiation between north and south may be noted, it is -not sharp or great enough to be dangerous. But let us imagine that coal -and iron had been confined to Scotland. Would there be now the same -harmony between the two countries as actually obtains? The United States -of America afford a good illustration of this principle, as I have -already pointed out; the sub-tropical climate of the southern states -gave rise to a differentiation of occupation, and consequently of ideas -and interests and sentiments, which was almost fatal to the unity of the -nation. A similar differentiation between the agricultural west and the -industrial and commercial east seems to be the greatest danger to the -future unity of the nation; and the same may be said of the Canadian -people. - -Ireland illustrates well the effects of both kinds of physical -influence. The Irish Channel has perpetuated that difference of race -and consequent difference of religion, which, but for it, would -probably have been wiped out by free intermarriage; while the lack of -coal and iron in the greater part of the country has prevented the -spread of industrialism, and has thus accentuated the difference between -the Irish people and the English. And it is obvious that among the -Protestants of Ulster the accessibility of coal and iron, maintaining a -divergence of occupations and of interests which prevents racial and -cultural blending, perpetuates the racial and traditional differences -between them and the rest of the population. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -FREEDOM OF COMMUNICATION AS A CONDITION OF NATIONAL LIFE - - -Let us consider now very briefly in relation to the life of a nation a -second essential condition of all collective mental life--namely, that -the individuals shall be in free communication with one another. This is -obviously necessary to the formation of national mind and character. It -is only through an immense development of the means of communication, -especially the printing press, the railway and the telegraph, that the -modern Nation-State has become possible, and has become the dominant -type of political organism. So familiar are we with this type, that we -are apt to identify the Nation and the State and to regard the large -Nation-State as the normal type of State and of Nation, forgetting that -its evolution was not possible before the modern period. - -In the ancient world the City-State was the dominant type of political -organism; and to Plato and Aristotle any other type seemed undesirable, -if not impossible. For they recognised that collective deliberation and -volition are essential to the true State. Aristotle, trying to imagine a -vast city, remarks--"But a city, having such vast circuit, would contain -a nation rather than a state, like Babylon." The translator there uses -the word 'nation,' not in the modern sense, but rather as we use -'people' to denote a population of common stock not organised to form a -nation. The limits of the political organism capable of a collective -mental life were rightly held to be set by the number of citizens who -could live so close together as to meet in one place to discuss all -public affairs by word of mouth. - -The great empires of antiquity were not nations; they had no collective -mental life. Although the Roman Empire, in the course of its long and -marvellous history, did succeed in generating in almost all its subject -peoples a certain sentiment of pride in and attachment to the Empire, it -cannot be said to have welded them into one nation; for, in spite of the -splendid system of roads and of posting, communication between the parts -was too difficult and slow to permit the reciprocal influences essential -to collective life. As in all the ancient empires, the parts were held -together only by a centralised despotic executive organisation; there -was no possibility of collective deliberation and volition[67]. - -All through history there has obviously been some correlation between -the size of political organisms and the degree of development of means -of communication. At the present time those means have become so highly -developed that the widest spaces of land and sea no longer present any -insuperable limits to the size of nations; and the natural tendency for -the growth of the larger states at the expense of the smaller, by the -absorption of the latter, seems to be increasingly strong. It seems not -unlikely that almost the whole population of the world will shortly be -included in five immense States--the Russian or Slav, the Central -European, the British, the American, and the Yellow or East Asiatic -State. The freedom of communication between the countries of Europe is -now certainly sufficient to allow of their forming a single nation, if -other conditions, such as diversities of racial type and of historical -sentiments, would permit it. - -Although, then, the platform and the orator and the assembly remain -important influences in modern times, it is primarily the telegraph, -wireless telegraphy, the printing press, and the steam engine, that have -rendered possible the large modern nations; for these have facilitated -the dissemination of news and the expression of feeling and opinion on a -large scale, and the free circulation of persons[68]. - -Without this freedom of communication the various parts of the nation -cannot become adequately conscious of one another; and the idea of the -whole must remain very rudimentary in the minds of individuals; each -part of the whole remains ignorant of many other parts, and there can be -no vivid consciousness of a common welfare and a common purpose. But, -more important still, there can be none of that massive influence of the -whole upon each of the units which is of the essence of collective -mental life. Of these means of reciprocal influence the press is the -most important; though, of course, its great influence is only rendered -possible by the railway and the telegraph. - -Hence we find that it is as regards the press that Great Britain and -America differ most markedly from such states as Germany, and still more -Russia. To an Englishman or American the meagre news-sheets which in -Germany take the place of our daily and weekly press bring a shock of -astonishment when he first discovers them; and that astonishment is not -diminished when he finds that the best people hardly trouble to look at -them occasionally[69]. - -It is interesting to note how the general election of January, 1910 -illustrated the importance of improved means of communication. It was -found that the number of citizens voting at the polls was a far larger -proportion of those on the register than at any previous election; and, -in this respect, the election was a more complete expression of the will -of the people than any preceding one. This seems to have been due to the -use of the motor-car, at that time the latest great addition to our -means of communication. - -The modern improvements of means of communication tend strongly to -diminish the importance of the geographical factors we considered in the -foregoing chapter; for they practically abolish what in earlier ages -were physical barriers to intercourse; they render capital and labour -more mobile; and they make many forms of industry less dependent upon -local physical conditions and, therefore, less strictly confined by -geographical factors. As instances of important developments of this -order in the recent past or near future, the reader may be reminded of -the railway over the Andes between Chile and Argentina, the tunnels -through the Alps, the Channel tunnel, the Siberian railway, the Suez and -Panama canals, the Cape to Cairo railway, and, above all, aerial -transport. All these make for free intercourse between peoples. - -Easy means of communication promote development in the direction of the -organic unity of a nation in another way--namely, they promote -specialisation of the functions of different regions; they thus render -local groups incapable of living as relatively independent closed -communities; for they make each local group more dependent upon others, -each upon all and the whole upon each; hence they develop the common -interest of each part in the good of the whole. - -This influence already extends beyond national groups and it had been -hoped that its further growth was about to render war between nations -impossible[70]. To-day England is contemplating a task never before -attempted, the fusing into one nation of the peoples of the -mother-country and her distant colonies. Whether or no she will succeed -depends upon whether the enormously increased facilities of -communication can overcome the principal effects of physical barriers -that we have noted--namely, lack of intermarriage and divergence of -occupations, with the consequent divergence of mental type and -interests. The task is infinitely more difficult than the establishment -of such an Empire as the Roman; not because the distances are greater, -but because the union must take the form of nationhood, because it must -take the form of a collective mind and not that of a merely executive -organisation. But, in the considerations which have shown us that -membership in and devotion to a smaller group is by no means adverse to -membership in and devotion to a larger group, we have ground for -believing that the task is not impossible of achievement. - -The slow rate of progress towards nationhood of such peoples as the -Russian and the Chinese has been largely due to lack of means of free -communication between the parts of these countries. On the introduction -of improved communications, we may expect to see rapid progress of this -kind; for many of the other essential conditions are already present in -both countries. - -The fact that in the Nation-State the communications between individuals -and between the parts of the whole are in the main indirect, mediated by -the press, the telegraph, and the printed word in general, rather than -by voice and gesture and the other direct bodily expressions of thought -and emotion, modifies the primary manifestations of group life in -important ways which we must notice in a later chapter. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -THE PART OF LEADERS IN NATIONAL LIFE - - -We turn now to a third very important condition of the growth of the -national mind, one which also has its analogue in both the crowd and the -army. A crowd always tends to follow some leader in thought, feeling, -and action; and its actions are effective in proportion as it does so. -To follow and obey a leader is the simplest, most rudimentary fashion in -which the crowd's action may become more effective, consistent, -intelligent, controlled. Not any one can be such a leader; exceptional -qualities are necessary. In every army the importance of leadership is -fully recognised. A hierarchy of leaders is the essence of its -organisation. In the deliberately organised army, the appointment of -leaders is the principal and almost the sole direct means taken by the -State to organise the army. Everything is done to give to the leaders of -each grade the greatest possible prestige, especially by multiplying and -accentuating the distinctions between the grades. Though much can be -accomplished in this way, unless the men chosen as leaders have in some -degree the superior qualities required by their position in the -hierarchy, the whole organisation will be of little value. - -The same is true in much higher degree of nations. If a people is to -become a nation, it must be capable of producing personalities of -exceptional powers, who will play the part of leaders; and the special -endowments of the national leader require to be more pronounced and -exceptional, of a higher order, than those required for the exercise of -leadership over a fortuitous crowd. - -Such personalities, more effectively perhaps than any other factors, -engender national unity and bring it to a high pitch. There are regions -in which the other main conditions of national unity have long obtained, -but which have failed to become the seat of any enduring nation. -Although the greater part of Africa, perhaps the richest continent of -the globe, has been in the possession of the negro races during all the -ages in which the European, Asiatic, and American civilisations were -being developed, those races have never founded a nation. Nevertheless -many, perhaps most, negroes are capable of acquiring European culture -and of turning it to good account. And, when brought under the -influence of Arabs or men of other races, they have formed rudimentary -nations[71]. The incapacity to form a nation must be connected with the -fact that the race has never produced any individuals of really high -mental and moral endowments, even when brought under foreign influences; -and it would seem that it is incapable of producing such individuals; -the few distinguished negroes, so called, of America--such as Douglas, -Booker Washington, Du Bois--have been, I believe, in all cases mulattoes -or had some proportion of white blood. We may fairly ascribe the -incapacity of the negro race to form a nation to the lack of men endowed -with the qualities of great leaders, even more than to the lower level -of average capacity. On the other hand, there is at least one people -which, in the absence of every other condition, has continued to retain -something of the character of a nation for many generations--namely, the -Jews. The Jews are not even racially homogeneous, and they are scattered -through all the world under the most varied physical conditions; yet the -influence of a succession of men of exceptional power, Moses and his -successors the prophets, all devoted to the same end--namely, the -establishment of the Jewish nation and religion--has lived on through -many generations and still holds this people together, marking it off -from all others. - -This is an extreme instance. But another almost equally striking case is -that of the Arab nation, which has owed its existence to one man. The -Arab nation was made by the genius of Mahomet, who welded together, by -the force of his personality and the originality and intensity of his -religious conviction, the warring idolatrous clans of Arabia. Until his -advent these had been a scattered multitude, in spite of racial and -geographical uniformity, geographical isolation, and fairly free -intercommunication. We have here one of the purest, clearest instances -of the effect of great personalities in furthering nationhood; for there -seems to be no reason to believe that, if Mahomet had not lived, any -such development of the Arabian people would have taken place. - -M. le Bon has produced a curious piece of evidence bearing on this -question. He has measured the cranial capacity of a great number of -skulls of different races, and has shown that any large collection of -skulls from one of the peoples who have formed a progressive nation -invariably contains a certain small number of skulls of markedly -superior capacity, implying exceptionally large brains; while any -similar collection of skulls from one of the unprogressive peoples, like -the negro, differs, not so much in the smaller average size of the -brain, as in the greater uniformity of size, that is to say, the absence -of individuals of exceptionally large brains[72]. He, rightly, I think, -sees in the absence of such individuals a main condition of the -unprogressive character of these races; and, in the exceptionally large -brains produced among the other peoples, a main condition of their -progress. - -These indications are borne out by a review of the history of any nation -that has achieved a considerable development. Every such people has its -national heroes whom it rightly glorifies or worships; for to them it -owes in chief part its existence. - -To them also it owes in large measure the forms of its institutions, its -religion, its dominant ideas and ideals, its morals, its art and -literature, all that of which it is most proud, all its victories of -peace as well as of war, the memory of which and the common pride in -which is the strongest of all national bonds[73]. - -Who can estimate the enormous influence of Confucius and Laotse in -moulding and rendering uniform the culture of China? The influence of -single individuals has undoubtedly been greater in the early than in the -later stages of civilisation; for there was then a more open field, a -virgin soil, as it were, for the reception of their influence. In the -developed nation the mass of accumulated knowledge and tradition is so -much greater, that the modifications and additions made by any one man -necessarily are relatively small. - -The leading modern nations owe their position to their having produced -great men in considerable numbers; for that reason also no one man -stands out so prominently as Mahomet or Confucius or Moses. Nevertheless -their existence can in many cases be traced to some few great men. Would -Germany now be a nation, but for Frederick the Great and Bismarck? Would -America, but for Washington, Hamilton, and Lincoln? Would Italy, but for -Garibaldi and Mazzini and Cavour? How greatly is the unity of national -spirit and tradition among Englishmen due to the great writers who have -produced the national literature, and to the great statesmen and -soldiers and sailors who have given her a proud position in the world! -What would England be now if Shakespeare, Newton and Darwin, Cromwell -and Chatham, Marlborough and Nelson and Wellington had never been born? - -And it is not only the men of great genius who are essential to the -modern nation, but also men of more than average powers, though not of -the very highest. - -Let us try to imagine the fifty leading minds in each great department -of activity suddenly removed from among us. That will help us to realise -the extent to which the mental life of the nation is dependent on them. -Clearly, we should be reduced to intellectual, moral, and aesthetic -chaos and nullity in a very short time. If a similar state of affairs -should continue for some few generations, Britain would very soon cease -to be of any importance in the world. The force of national traditions -might keep up a certain unity; but we should be a people, or a crowd, -living in the past, without energy, without pride in the present or hope -in the future, having perhaps a little melancholy national sentiment, -but incapable of national thought or action. - -The continuance of the power and prosperity and unity of national life, -the continued existence of the national mind and character, depends, -then, upon the continued production of numbers of such men of more than -average capacity. It is these men who keep alive from generation to -generation, and spread among the masses and so render effective, the -ideas and the moral influence of the men of supremely great powers. -These men exert a guidance and a selection over the cultural elements -which the mass of men absorb. They praise what they believe to be good, -and decry what they believe to be bad; and, in virtue of the prestige -which their exceptional powers have brought them, their verdict is -accepted and moulds popular opinion and sentiment. - -Consider how great in this way has been the influence of men like -Carlyle, Matthew Arnold, and Ruskin. The tone and standard of taste, -thought, and sentiment are set and maintained by such men. It is in -their minds chiefly that the system of ideals and sentiments, which are -the guiding principles and moving forces of the national mind, is -perpetuated. They are truly 'the salt of the earth'; without them the -nation would soon fall into fragments, or become an inert and powerless -mass of but low degree of organisation and unity. - -It is because the national ideals and sentiments are formed by these -leading spirits, and are perpetuated and developed by them, and by them -impressed in some degree upon the mass of the people, and because in -all national movements their influence predominates, that the judgments -and actions, the character and the sentiments, of a nation may be -different from, and in the higher nations are superior to those of the -average men of the nation. As Fouillée said--"The national character is -not always best expressed by the mass, by the vulgar, nor even by the -actual majority. There exists a natural _élite_ which, better than all -the rest, represents the soul of the entire people, its radical ideas -and its most essential tendencies. This is what the politicians too -often forget[74]." That is to say, it is what they forget when, as is -too often the case in this country, they consider that no movement must -be undertaken till the mass of the people demands it. They ignore the -fact that leadership is essential to the maintenance of national life at -a high level, and, instead of exercising initiative, they wait for it to -come from below--wait for a mandate, as they say. The late President -Rooseveldt was a fine example of the contrary type of statesmanship. The -character of the talents displayed by these exceptionally gifted -individuals determines largely the form of the civilisation and, through -shaping the social environment, tends to bring the minds of the mass of -individuals more or less into harmony with it, giving them something of -the same tendencies. - -The men of genius of certain peoples, more especially peoples of -relative racial purity, have excelled in some one direction. Thus the -Semites have produced great religious teachers and little else, and have -given to the world its three great monotheistic religions. The Tartar -race has produced from time to time great soldiers and little else. It -has made immense conquests and established dynasties ruling over other -peoples. But, as in the case of the Turks, who owe their national -existence to a line of great despots of the house of Othman, they make -little progress in civilisation and they do not unify the peoples they -rule; for they produce ability of no other kind. - -We see in most of the leading European nations the predominance of -certain forms of genius. Modern Italy boasts chiefly men great in -religion and art, perhaps owing to the predominance of _Homo -Mediterraneus_; Spain in pictorial art and military conquest; England in -poetry and administration and science; Germany in music and philosophy. -Nevertheless, each of these peoples has produced men of the greatest -power in all or several kinds; and this we may connect with the fact -that they are all of very mixed racial composition. And we may add that -France, the most composite or mixed racially, has produced the greatest -variety of genius. - -The production of the largest numbers of eminent men by peoples of mixed -and blended racial elements, not too widely different, is what -biological knowledge would lead us to expect. For, if a subrace is -produced by crossing of varieties, it will be one of much greater -variability than a pure race; as we see in the cases of the domesticated -horse and dog and pigeon, of which the modern varieties are only kept -pure by continual rejection of the departures from the standards, and of -which the great variability renders possible the production, by -selection of very marked new features in a brief period of time. - -The many elements which go to form the mental constitution of an -individual become, in a mixed race, variously combined. If the crossed -races are very widely different, the results seem to be in nearly all -cases bad. The character of the cross-bred is made up of divergent -inharmonious tendencies, which give rise to internal conflict, just as -the physical features appear in bizarre combination; what examples we -have--the Spanish Americans, the Eurasians, the Mulattoes, the -half-breeds of Java and Canada--seem to show that a people so composed -will produce few great men and will not become a great nation. - -But, when the crossed races are less widely divergent, the elements of -which the mental constitution is composed (and which direct observation -and analogy with physical heredity show to be transmitted more or less -independently of one another from parent to offspring) have -opportunities to come together in new combinations, which result in -mental constitutions unlike those of either parent (that is to say, the -cross-breds are variable); and among these new combinations, while some -will form minds below the average, others will form minds above the -average in various degrees; and these, so long as the constitution is -not too much weakened by radical lack of harmony of its elements, will -be the effective great men. - -Incidentally, these considerations perhaps throw light on a fact much -discussed--namely, that exceptional powers, especially when of highly -specialised nature, are often exhibited by persons of unstable mental -constitution; whence arises the popular belief that genius is allied to, -or is a form of, insanity. - -These considerations also raise a presumption that peoples derived by -the blending of several stocks may be expected to have progressed -further in civilisation and in national growth than those of purer -stock; and that, while the racial purity of a people may give stability, -such a people will be liable to arrest and crystallisation of -civilisation at an early stage, before culture is sufficiently advanced -to render possible a highly developed national life. These indications -are well borne out by a survey of the peoples of the world. We may see -here, in all probability, one of the main causes of the early -crystallisation of Chinese civilisation. Homogeneity and racial purity -have produced extreme stability, but at the cost of the variability -which produces great and original minds, and, therefore, at the cost of -capacity for national progress beyond an early stage. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -OTHER CONDITIONS OF NATIONAL LIFE - - -In the two foregoing chapters, we have considered in relation to the -life of nations three principal conditions essential to all collective -mental life and action, even that of the unorganised crowd--namely, -homogeneity, free communications and leadership. We have now to consider -other conditions which may render the collective mental processes of -nations very different from, and superior to, those of a mere crowd. - -In considering a patriot army as exemplifying collective life of a -relatively high level, we distinguished five principal conditions that -raise it above the level of the mental life of the crowd, in addition to -one which is present in some crowds. This last was a common well-defined -purpose present to, and dominant in, the minds of all individuals. It is -this condition mainly that renders the collective mental life of such an -army so simple, so relatively easy to understand, and so extremely -effective. - -This condition--a clearly defined common purpose dominant in the minds of -the great mass of the constituent units--is for the most part lacking in -the life of nations; its absence is one of the principal reasons for the -ineffectiveness and bewildering complexity of their mental life. It is, -however, occasionally realised in national life, and then we see how -immense is its influence. Such an occasion is a war for national -existence. Consider how, when the excesses of the French Revolution -excited all the monarchies of Europe to attack France, the French -nation, becoming animated with the one strong purpose of asserting its -right to exist and to choose its own form of government, successfully -drove back all its enemies and rose to a height of power and glory -greater than at any other period; and how, at the same time, its parts -were welded more firmly together, so that it displayed a high degree of -unity as well as of efficiency. Having achieved this high degree of -unity and efficiency, the French nation, led on by the ambitions of -Napoleon, became aggressive. And we are told by the historians that the -attacks of Napoleon upon the various European peoples, which threatened -to destroy whatever degree of national life those peoples had attained, -were like the blows of a smith's hammer and resulted in welding together -and hardening into nations the loosely aggregated races ruled over by -the various monarchs; and that in this way these attacks initiated the -modern period of Nation-States[75]. - -War for national existence unifies nations. So long as the nation is not -utterly shattered and crushed, such war greatly develops the national -mind; because it makes one common purpose dominate the minds of all the -citizens. - -We are told that it is a practical maxim of cynical rulers to plunge -their people into war when they are faced by dangerous internal -discontents; and the reason usually given is that war diverts the -attention of the people from their domestic grievances. But if it is a -national war, a war in which the national existence is at stake, it does -far more than merely divert attention; it binds the nation into a -harmonious efficient whole by creating a common purpose; whereas, if the -war is not of this order and is waged in some distant country and merely -for some territorial aggrandisement, it has little or no such effect. -Thus the recent Russo-Japanese war did little or nothing at the time to -raise the Russian people in the scale of nationhood; it was followed by -a period of national weakness; the national existence was not -endangered, the objects of the war were too remote from the interests of -the mass of the people to appeal to them strongly. Whereas the same war -and the years of preparation for it, following upon the previous -Chino-Japanese war, have made the Japanese one of the most efficient and -harmonious nations of the world. - -Another striking example of the same principle was the formation of -modern Bulgaria as a strong Nation-State out of a population of quiet -peasant proprietors united only by spatial proximity and by their racial -distinctness from the surrounding populations. This creation of a strong -nation out of a mere population of peasants was in the main the work of -the war of 1885, by which the unprovoked attack of Servia was -triumphantly repelled[76]. - -The unity and nationhood of modern Germany is largely due to similar -causes; and the war of 1871 may fairly be said to have led to a further -integration of the national life of the French people, in spite of their -defeat. America owes something of the same kind to the Spanish war; and -the entry of that nation into the Great War, long delayed as it was, -will probably be found to have had a similar effect. The French and -Italian nations have undoubtedly been welded more firmly by the Great -War; while England and her sister and daughter nations (with the one sad -exception of the Irish) have been united, by their co-operation in the -one great purpose, to a degree which no other conceivable event could -have achieved and which many generations of peaceful industry and -enlightened political efforts might have failed to approach. - -History offers no parallel to these effects of war; and it is difficult -or impossible to imagine any other common purpose which could exert this -binding influence in a similar degree. But it is worth while to notice -that other and minor forms of international rivalry have corresponding -effects. The international rivalry in aeronautics affords a contemporary -illustration. Perhaps every one in this country has felt some degree of -interest and satisfaction in the achievements of the adventurous spirits -of our nation who have traversed the Atlantic by air. And it is probably -largely owing to the prevalence of this national pride and purpose that, -at a time demanding strict national economy, no voice has been raised -against the enormous current expenditure of the government upon -aeronautics. - -Another and more important effect of the same kind is produced by the -assumption of great national responsibilities in the way of -administration in respect of backward peoples and undeveloped -territories. The greatest example in history is the responsibility of -Great Britain for the administration of India, gradually and only -half-consciously assumed, but now keenly felt as at once a legitimate -ground of national pride and a moral responsibility that cannot be laid -aside. It is like the responsibility of the father of a family in its -semi-instinctive origin and in its effects in steadying and -strengthening character, for it imposes a responsibility which the -nation, like the individual, cannot discharge indifferently without -seriously damaging its reputation and prestige in the eyes of the world. -Holland owes some of the strength of her nationhood to such influences; -and the assumption by the American nation of responsibility for the -peoples of Cuba and of the Phillipine islands cannot fail to bring them -in some degree similar moral benefits[77]. - -Of the five other conditions of the higher development of a collective -mind, let us notice, first and very briefly, continuity of existence, -material and formal. Of course every nation has this in some degree, but -some have it in much higher degree than others. The English nation is -fortunate in this respect also. It has preserved both its formal and -its material continuity in very high degree throughout many centuries, -in fact ever since the Norman Conquest. No European nation can compare -with it in this respect; it is only surpassed by China and perhaps -Japan. The French nation has preserved its material continuity, its -population and territory, in high degree. But the Great Revolution cut -across and destroyed to a great extent its formal continuity, so that, -as is sometimes said, the French nation has cut itself off from its past -and made a new start; although, in doing so, it did not get rid of its -highly centralised system of administration. The modern Italian and -German nations are quite recent growths, their formal continuity having -been subject to many interruptions. Spain, with her almost insular -position, might have had continuity; but it was greatly disturbed by the -imperial ambitions of her rulers in the sixteenth century and by the -expulsion of the Moors. Greece is a striking example of loss of both -material and formal continuity. The population of ancient Greece, which -put her in the van of civilisation, has been largely abolished and -supplanted by a different race; and her formal continuity also has -suffered a number of complete ruptures. - -Now material and formal continuity is, as we said, the essential -presupposition of all the other main conditions of development of the -collective mind. On it depends the strength of custom and tradition and, -to a very great extent, the strength of national sentiment. It is, -therefore, a principal condition of national stability; from it arise -all the great conservative tendencies of the nation, all the forces that -resist change; accordingly, the more complete and long enduring such -continuity has been in the past, the greater is the prospect of its -prolongation in the future. It is owing to the unbroken continuity of -the English nation through so long a period that its organisation is so -stable, its unwritten constitution so effective, at once stable and -plastic, its national sentiment so strong, its complex uncoded system of -judge-made law so nearly in harmony with popular feeling and therefore -so respected. National organisation resting upon this basis of custom -and traditional sentiment is the only kind that is really stable, that -is not liable to be suddenly overthrown by internal upheavals or impacts -from without. For it alone is rooted in the minds of all citizens in the -forms of habit and sentiment. All other organisation is imposed by -authority. - -In this respect modern England and Germany offer a striking contrast -that forces itself upon the most casual observation. As regards the mass -of the people, the position of each individual in the organism of the -German nation is officially determined by the written and codified law -of the State; all personal status and relations are formally determined -by official positions in this recently created system. Almost every -individual carries about some badge or uniform indicating his position -within the system. In England, the status and relations of individuals -are determined by factors a thousand times more subtle and complex, -involving many vaguely conceived and undefined traditions and -sentiments. In Germany, it is almost true to say, if a man has no -official position he has no position at all. In England, the -comparatively few persons who have official positions have also their -social positions by which their private relations are determined. They -are officials only in their offices; whereas the German official is an -official everywhere. - -Other important topics we have to consider are (1) the organisation of -the national mind; (2) the national self-consciousness; (3) the -interaction of the nation as a whole with other nations. All these we -may advantageously consider in the light of an analogy, the analogy -between the individual mind and the collective mind of the nation. This -is a much closer and more illuminating analogy than that between the -nation, or society, and the material organism. The latter analogy has -been developed in detail by H. Spencer, Schäffle[78] and others; it has -now fallen into some disrepute. It has no doubt a certain value, but it -is popularly used in a way that leads to quite unjustifiable -conclusions. Of these fallacies by far the most commonly accepted is -that which asserts that, just as every animal organism inevitably grows -old and dies, so too must nations. - -This is one of the most popular dogmas of amateur philosophers, and so -distinguished a statesman as the late Lord Salisbury gave it -countenance; while Mr A. J. Balfour in his recent Sidgwick Memorial -Lecture[79] courageously breaks away and proposes to substitute for -senility as the cause of decay the word _decadence_--a proposal which -merely implies that he trusts less to the analogical argument from the -material organism and more to empirical induction, to the observation of -the fact that so many nations have decayed. - -All this serves to illustrate the dangers of analogy. We need no special -cause to account for the fall and the decay of nations, no obscure -principle of senility or decadence; the wonderful thing is that they -exist at all; and what needs explanation is not so much the decay of -some, but rather the long persistence of others. - -Let us turn, then, to the analogy between the organisation of the -national collective mind and that of the individual mind, which, I say, -is so much closer and more illuminating than that between a society and -a bodily organisation. - -The actions of the individual organism are the expression of its mental -constitution or organisation; in some creatures this organisation is -almost wholly innate--the organisation consists of a number of reflex and -instinctive dispositions each specialised for bringing about a special -kind of behaviour under certain circumstances. Such old established -racial dispositions with their special tendencies have their place in -more complexly developed minds; but in these their operations are -complicated and modified by the life of ideas, and by a variety of -habits developed under the guidance of ideas and in the light of -individual experience. - -The enduring reflex and instinctive dispositions of the individual mind -we may liken to the established institutions of a nation, such as the -army and navy, the post office, the judicial and the administrative -systems of officials. These, like the instincts, are specialised -executive organisations working in relative independence of one another, -each discharging some specialised function adapted to satisfy some -constantly recurring need of the whole organism. In both cases such -semi-independent organisations, the instincts or the institutions, are -relatively fixed and stable, and they work, if left to themselves, -quasi-mechanically along old established lines, without intelligent -adaptation to new circumstances; and they are incapable of -self-adaptation. In both cases, the mental organisation is in part -materialised, the instinct in the form of specialised nervous structure, -the institution in the form of the material organisation essential to -its efficient action, the buildings, the printed codes, the whole -material apparatus of complex national administration. In both cases, -the actions in which they play their part are not purely mechanical but -to some extent truly psychical--though of a low order. - -If we accept the view, which is held by many, that instincts and -reflexes are the semi-mechanised results of successive mental -adaptations effected by the mental efforts of successive generations, -then the analogy is still closer; for the permanent national -institutions are also the accumulated semi-mechanised products of the -efforts at adaptation of many generations. - -The organisation of some nations resembles that of the minds of those -animals whose behaviour is purely instinctive. Such is a nation whose -organisation takes the form of a rigid caste system. Each caste performs -its special functions in the prescribed manner in relative independence -of all the others. And, in both cases, the organisation of the mind -includes no means of bringing the different fixed tendencies or -dispositions into harmonious co-operation in the face of unusual -circumstances. The whole system lacks plasticity and adaptability; for -it is relatively mechanical and of a low degree of integration. Any true -adaptation of the whole organism by mental effort is impossible in both -cases. - -The higher type of individual mind is characterised by the development -of the intellectual organisation by means of which the activities of the -various instincts, the executive organisations, may be brought into -co-operation with, or duly subordinated to, one another; and the -activities of each such individual may be further adapted to meet novel -combinations of circumstances not provided for in the innate -organisation; hence, the activities of the whole organism, instead of -being a succession of quasi-mechanical actions, and of crude conflicts -between the impulses or tendencies of the different instincts, reveal a -higher degree of harmony of the parts, a greater integration of the -whole system, and a much greater adaptability to novel circumstances; -while, at the same time, the behaviour of the whole, in face of any one -of the situations provided for by innate organisation or instinct, is -liable to be less sure and perfect than in the case of the less complex, -less highly evolved type of mind. - -Exactly the same is true of the more highly evolved type of national -mind. Like the lower type, it has its executive institutions and -hierarchies of officials, organised for the carrying out of specialised -tasks subserving the economy of the whole. But, in addition, it has a -deliberative organisation which renders possible a play of ideas; and, -through this, the operations of the institutions are modified and -controlled in detail and are harmonised in a way which constitutes a -higher integration of the whole. - -In both cases ideas and judgments reached by the deliberative processes -can only become effective in the world of things and conduct by setting -to work, or calling into play, one or more of the executive dispositions -or institutions. - -In both cases, ideas and the deliberative processes, which to some -extent control the operations of the innate or traditional dispositions, -produce, in so doing, some permanent modification of them in the -direction of adaptation to deal with novel circumstances; so that the -dispositions or institutions grow and change under the guidance of the -deliberative processes, slowly becoming better adapted for the -expression of the ruling ideas; they become better instruments, and more -completely at the service of ideas and of the will. - -Just as the animal, on the instinctive plane of mental life, displays a -very efficient activity in the special situation which brings some one -instinct into play, so any one caste of a caste-nation may perform its -function under normal circumstances with great efficiency, the priestly -caste its priestly function, the warrior caste, or the caste of -sweepers, its function; and, in both cases, the development of the -deliberative organisation is apt to interfere to some extent with the -perfect execution of these specialised functions. - -Again, in the individual mind, adaptation of conduct to novel -circumstances, or to secure improved action in familiar circumstances, -requires the direction of the attention, that is the concentration of -the whole energy of the mind, upon the task; whereas, when the new mode -of behaviour is often repeated, it becomes more and more automatic; for, -owing to the formation of new nervous organisation, the attention is set -free for other tasks of adaptation. Just in the same way new modes of -national behaviour are only effected when the attention of the nation's -mind is turned upon the situation; whereas, with recurrence of the need -for any such novel mode of action, there is formed some special -executive organisation, say a Colonial Office, or an Unemployed Central -Committee, or an Imperial Conference, which deals with it in a more or -less routine fashion, and which, as it becomes perfected, needs less and -less to be controlled and guided by national attention and therefore -operates in the margin of the field of consciousness of the national -mind, while public attention is set free to turn itself to other tasks -of national adaptation. - -We may also regard the customs of a nation as analogous with the habits -of the individual, if (for the sake of the analogy) we accept the view -that instincts are habits that have become hereditary; for custom is an -informal mode in which routine behaviour is determined, and it tends to -lead on to, and to become embodied in, formal institutions; it is like -habit, a transition stage between new adaptation and perfected -organisation. Individual adaptation, habit and instinct are parallel to -national adaptation, custom and legal institution. - -At the risk of wearying the reader, I will refer to one last point of -the analogy. Individual minds become more completely integrated in -proportion as they achieve a full self-consciousness, in proportion as -the idea of the self becomes rich in content and the nucleus of a strong -sentiment generating impulses that control and override impulses of all -other sources. In a similar way, the national mind becomes more -completely integrated in proportion as it achieves full -self-consciousness, that is, in proportion as the idea of the nation -becomes widely diffused among the individual minds, becomes rich in -content and the nucleus of a strong sentiment that supplies motives -capable of overriding and controlling all other motives. - -Consider now in the light of this analogy the principal types of -national organisation. The organisation of some peoples is wholly the -product of the conflicts of blind impulses and purely individual -volitions working through long ages. This is true of many peoples that -have not arrived at a national self-consciousness or, as the French say, -a social consciousness, and are not held in servitude by a despotic -power. It is a natural stage of evolution which corresponds to the stage -of the higher mammals in the scale of evolution of the individual mind. -A nation of this sort has no capacity for collective deliberation and -volitional action. What collective mental life it has is on the plane of -impulse and unregulated desire. Such ideas as are widely accepted may -determine collective action; but such action is not the result of the -weighing of ideas in the light of self-consciousness; hence they are -little adapted to promote the welfare of the nation, and, because there -is no organisation adapted for their expression, they can be but -imperfectly realised. - -We may perhaps take China (as she was until recently) as the highest -type of a nation of this sort. Hers was a complex and vast organisation -consisting of very ancient institutions and customs, slowly evolved by -the conflict of impulses and in part imposed by despotic power and -individual wills; not formed by a national will under the guidance of -national self-consciousness[80]. Hence China was incapable of vigorous -national thought or volition, and its nearest approach to collective -action was expressed in such blind impulsive actions as the Taeping -Rebellion or the Boxer Rising. This last seems to have been prompted by -a dawning national self-consciousness which had not, however, so moulded -the national organisation as to make it an efficient instrument of its -will. - -Of other nations the organisation is, in part only, a natural growth, -having been, in large part, impressed upon it by an external power. -Such is the case in all those many instances in which a foreign power of -higher social organisation has conquered and successfully governed for a -long period a people of lower civilisation. We may see a parallel to -this type in the mind of an individual whose behaviour is in the main -the expression of a number of habits engendered by a severe discipline -which has continued from his earliest years, and which has never -permitted the free development of his natural tendencies and character. -Such was England under the feudal system imposed upon her by her Norman -conquerors. Such also France under Louis XIV. Such was Russia when the -Varegs, the conquering Northmen, imposed on the almost unorganised mass -of Slavs their rule and a national organisation; and such it remained up -to the outbreak of the Great War, a mass of men in whom the national -consciousness was only just beginning to glimmer here and there, crudely -organised by the bureaucratic power of a few. Even in the minds of these -few the national consciousness and purpose was but little developed. -Individual purposes and individual self-consciousness predominated. -Hence Russia had no capacity for national thought and action; and when, -as recently, ideas stirred the masses to action, their actions were -those of unorganised crowds, impulsive and ineffective; the ends were -but vaguely conceived, the means were not deliberately chosen, or, if so -chosen, found no executive organisation for the effective expression of -the collective purpose. - -In such nations the organisation, which has been in the main created by -a small governing class, is adapted only for the execution of its -purposes, and not at all for the formation of a national mind and the -expression of the collective will. The organisation consists primarily -in a system for the collecting of taxes and the compulsory service of a -large army. The revenue is raised for two primary purposes--the support -of the governing class or caste in luxury and the support of the army; -and the end for which the army is maintained is primarily the gathering -of the taxes, and the further extension of the tax-collecting system -over larger areas and populations--a vicious circle. On the other hand, -the conditions which tend to the formation of national mind and -character (which would have quite other ends than these) are naturally -suppressed as completely as possible by the governing few. - -Russian history in modern times exemplifies these principles in the -clearest and most complete manner. The effects of this sort of -organisation were very clearly illustrated by Count Tolstoi's articles -in the _Fortnightly Review_[81], in which he expressed as his social -creed and ideal a complete anarchy to be achieved by passive resistance; -denied that nations have or can have any existence; and asserted that -the idea of a nation is as fictitious as it is pernicious. He had in -mind only this type of organisation of a people, which hardly entitles -it to be called a nation. And the same considerations explain the wide -prevalence of philosophic anarchy in Russia. - -Another type of national organisation results when the natural evolution -of the national mind and character has been artificially and unhealthily -forced by the pressure of the external environment of a people, when the -need of national self-preservation and self-assertion compels the mass -of the people to submit to an organisation which is neither the product -of a natural evolution through the conflict of individual wills, nor the -expression of the general mind and will, nor is altogether imposed upon -it for the individual purposes of the few, but is a system planned by -the few for the good of the whole, and by them imposed upon the whole. -This is the kind of organisation of which a modern army stands as the -extreme type and which is best represented among modern nations by -Germany as she was before the War. - -Under such a system there appears inevitably a tendency rigorously to -subordinate the welfare of individuals to that of the nation as a whole. -And that was just the state of affairs in Germany. German political -philosophy showed the opposite extreme from Tolstoi's; the individual -existed for the nation only. Hence we find this condition of affairs -justified by such writers as Blüntschli[82], Treitschke and Bernhardi, -who represent the State as having an existence and a system of rights -superior to that of all individuals; and we see attempts to justify the -subordination of individual interests by means of the doctrine of the -'collective consciousness[83].' - -In such States as that of the foregoing type the one kind of -organisation is alone highly developed, namely the executive -organisation; while the deliberative organisation is very imperfect and -is repressed and discouraged by the governing power. Such a State is -likely to appear very strong in all its relations with other States, and -its material organisation may be developed in an effective and rapid -way, as we have seen in pre-war Germany. But its actions are not the -expression of the national will and are not the outcome of the general -mind. They are designed by the minds of the few for the good not of -all, but of the whole, the good, that is, not of individuals but of the -State. - -Organisation of this type is not of high stability, in spite of its -appearance of strength and its efficiency for certain limited purposes, -such as industrial organisation and the promotion and diffusion of -material well-being. In a State so organised there inevitably grows up -an antagonism between individual rights and interests and the rights and -interests of the State. It is psychologically unsound. This fact was -revealed in Germany by the tremendous growth of social democracy, which -was the protest against the subordination of individual welfare to that -of the State. The defect of such organisation was illustrated by the -fact that Germany, though its well-governed population increased -rapidly, for many years continued to lose great numbers of its -population to other countries. For the mass of the people felt itself to -be not so much of the State as under it. And it is, I think, obvious -that the advent of a bad and stupid monarch might easily have brought on -a revolution at any time. - -The inherent weakness of the system induced the governing power to all -sorts of extreme measures directed to maintain its equilibrium and -cohesion. Among such State actions the gravest were perhaps the -deliberate falsification of history by the servile historians and the -suppression and distortion of news by the press at the command and -desire of the State. The expropriation of the Polish landowners and the -treatment of Alsace-Lorraine were other striking manifestations of the -imperfect development of the national mind and of the corresponding -practice and philosophy of the State-craft which the world has learnt to -describe as Prussian. - -The organisation of pre-war Germany was, then, very similar to that of -an army and was efficient in a similar way, that is to say for the -attainment of particular immediate ends. In a wider view, such national -organisation is of a lower nature than that of England or France or -America; for the ends or purposes of a nation are remote, they transcend -the vision of the present and cannot be defined in terms of material -prosperity or military power; and only the development of the national -mind, as a natural and spontaneous growth, can give a prospect of -continued progress towards those indefinable ends. Germany was organised -from above for the attainment of a particular end, namely material -prosperity and power among the peoples of the world; and, as the bulk of -her population had been led to accept this narrow national purpose, the -organisation of the nation, like that of an army, was extremely -effective for the purpose. It gave her a great advantage as against the -other nations, among whom the lack of any such clear cut purpose in the -minds of all was a principal difficulty in the way of effective national -thought and action. For a like reason the existence of a nation -organised in this way is a constant threat to the nations of higher -type; and, as we have seen, it may compel them at any time to revert to -or adopt, temporarily at least and so far as they are able, an -organisation of the lower and more immediately effective kind. And this -threat was the justification of the nations of the Entente, when they -demanded a radical change in this political organisation of Germany. In -a similar way, in the past, the Huns, the Turks, and the Arabs, peoples -organised primarily for war and conquest, had to be destroyed as nations -if the evolution of nations of higher type was to go forward. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -THE WILL OF THE NATION[84] - - -Rousseau, in his famous treatise, _Le Contrat Social_, wrote "There is -often a great difference between the will of all and the general will; -the latter looks only to the common interest; the former looks to -private interest, and is nothing but a sum of individual wills; but take -away from these same wills the plus and minus that cancel one another -and there remains, as the sum of the differences, the general will." -"Sovereignty is only the exercise of the general will." That is to say, -a certain number of men will the general good, while most men will only -their private good; the latter neutralise one another, while the former -co-operate to form an effective force. - -Dr Bosanquet[85], criticising Rousseau's doctrine, says that the general -will is expressed by the working of the institutions of the community -which embody its dominant ideas; that no one man really grasps the -nature and relations of the whole society and its tendencies; that the -general will is thus unconscious (by which he seems to mean that the -nation is unconscious of itself and of its ends or purposes); and he -goes on to say that the general will is the product of practical -activities making for nearer smaller ends, and that its harmony depends -on the fact that the activities of each individual are parts of a -systematic whole. - -Bosanquet's theory amounts to a justification of the old individualist -_laissez faire_ doctrine--the doctrine that the good of the whole is best -achieved by giving freest possible scope to the play and conflict of -individual purposes and strivings--the philosophic radicalism of Bentham -and Mill, which teaches that, if each man honestly and efficiently -pursues his private ends, the welfare of the State somehow results. How -this systematic whole which is the State arises he does not explain; and -it seems to me that Bosanquet leaves unsolved that difficulty which, as -we saw, led Schiller and others to postulate an external power guiding -each people--the difficulty, if we assume that individual wills strive -only after private egoistic ends, of explaining how the good of the -whole is nevertheless achieved. - -In all societies many general changes result, and in some nations no -doubt the good of the whole is achieved in a measure by fortunate -accident, in the way Bosanquet describes--namely, by the interplay of -individual wills working for near individual ends. But, I think, it is -improper to say that in such a case any general will exists. Such a -nation, if it displays any collective activity, only does so in an -impulsive blind way which is not true volition, but is comparable rather -with instinctive action; for, as we have seen, self-consciousness is -essential to volition; a truly volitional action is one which issues -from the contemplation of some end represented in relation to the idea -of the self and found to be desirable. And the changes of a society -which result in the way Bosanquet claims as the expression of the -general will are unforeseen and unwilled; they are no more the -expression and effects of a general will than are the movements of a -billiard ball struck simultaneously by two or more men each of whom aims -at a different position. - -Bosanquet maintains that the national will is unconscious of its ends; -but that the life of a nation does express a general will, in virtue of -the fact that the individuals, who will private and less general ends -than the ends of the nation, live in a system of relations that -constitutes them an organism; and that it is in virtue of this organic -system of relations that the individual volitions work out to an -unforeseen unpurposed resultant, which he calls the end willed by the -general will. He makes of this organic unity the essential difference -between a mere crowd and a society or nation--defining an organism or -organic unity as a system of parts the capacities and functions of each -of which are determined by the general nature and principle of the whole -group. - -That is an excellent definition of an organism; and we have recognised -fully the importance of organisation in national life, consisting in -specialisation of the parts such that each part is adapted to perform -some one function that subserves the life of the whole, while itself -dependent upon the proper functioning of all other parts. - -We may admit too that, in proportion as this specialisation of functions -is carried further, organic unity is promoted because the life of the -whole becomes more intimately dependent on the life of each part, and -each part more intimately and completely dependent on the life of the -whole. - -But unity of this sort is characteristic of all animal bodies; and, -though the mind has this kind of organic unity, it acquires, in -proportion as self-consciousness develops, over and above this kind of -unity, a unity of an altogether new and unique kind; a unity which -consists in the whole (or the self) being present to consciousness, -whether clearly or obscurely, during almost every moment of thought, and -pervading and playing some part in the determination of the course of -thought and action. - -Now, the national mind also has both the lower and the higher kinds of -unity. In both cases--that is, in the development both of the individual -and of the national mind--a certain degree of organic unity must be -achieved, before self-consciousness can develop and begin to play its -part; but in both cases, when once it has begun to operate, -self-consciousness goes on greatly to increase the organic unity, to -increase the specialisation of functions and the systematic -interdependence of the parts. - -Consider a single illustration of this parallelism of the individual -with the national mind. Take the aesthetic faculty. In the individual -mind there develops a certain capacity for finding pleasure in certain -objects and impressions, such as young children and even the animals -have; and then, with the growth of self-consciousness, the individual -sets himself deliberately to cultivate this faculty, to specialise it -along particular lines and to exercise it as something apart from his -other mental functions; while, nevertheless, it becomes for him, in -proportion as it is developed and specialised, more and more an -essential part of his total experience. Just so there spontaneously -develop in a people some rudimentary aesthetic practices and traditions -and some class of persons, say the bards, who are more skilled than -other men in ministering to the aesthetic demands of their fellows. -Then, as national self-consciousness develops, the place and value of -these functions in the system of national life becomes explicitly -recognised, and they are deliberately fostered by the establishment of -national institutions, schools of art, academies of letters and music, -the award of public titles and honours and so forth; whereby the -specialisation of these national functions is increased, their -dependence on the life of the whole rendered more intimate, and, at the -same time, the life of the whole rendered more dependent upon the life -of these parts, because the richer aesthetic development of the parts -reacts upon the whole, diffusing itself through and elevating the life -of the whole. - -Bosanquet recognises in national life only the lower kind of unity and -not the unity of self-consciousness. He seems to reject the notion of -national self-consciousness, on the ground that the life of a nation is -so complex that it cannot be fully and adequately reflected in the -consciousness of any individual; yet in this respect the difference -between the national mind and the individual mind is one of degree only -and not of kind. In the individual mind also, even the most highly -developed and self-conscious, the capacities and dispositions and -tendencies that make up the whole mind are never fully and adequately -present to consciousness; the individual never knows himself -exhaustively, though he may continually progress towards a more nearly -complete self-knowledge. Just so the national mind may progress towards -a more complete self-knowledge, and, though at the present time no -nation has attained more than a very imperfect self-knowledge, yet the -process is accelerating rapidly among the more advanced nations; and -such increasing self-knowledge promises to become the dominating factor -in the life of nations, as it is in the lives of all men, save the most -primitive. - -Suppose that all those conditions making for national unity which we -have considered in the foregoing chapters were realised, but that -nevertheless all men continued to be moved only by self-regarding -motives, or by those which have reference to the welfare of themselves -and their family circle or to any ends less comprehensive than the -welfare of the whole nation. We could not then properly speak of the -tendencies resulting from the interplay and the conflict of all these -individual wills as expressions of the general will, as Bosanquet and -others have done, even though the organic unity of the whole secured a -harmonious resultant national activity, if such a thing were possible. -But there is no reason to suppose that such a thing is possible. - -I think we may say that it is only in so far as the idea of the people -or nation as a whole is present to the consciousness of individuals and -determines their actions that a nation in the proper sense of the word -can exist or ever has existed. Without this factor any population -inhabiting a given territory remains either a mere horde or a population -of slaves under a despotism. Neither can be called a nation; wherever a -nation has appeared in the history of the world, the consciousness of -itself as a nation has been an essential condition of its existence and -still more of its progress. - -We may see this, even more clearly, in the case of the smaller -aggregations of men, the smaller social units, the family, the clan, the -tribe. The family is a family only so long as it is conscious of itself -as a family, and only in virtue of that self-consciousness and of the -part which this idea and the sentiments gathered about it play in -determining the actions of each member. How carefully such family -consciousness is sometimes fostered and how great a part it plays in -social life is common knowledge. In the early stages of Greek and Roman -history, the family consciousness was the dominant social force which -long succeeded in overriding and preventing the development of any -larger social consciousness. Just as the _gens_ played this part in -early Rome, so the clan has played a similar part elsewhere, for example -in the highlands of Scotland. Such peoples form the strongest nations. - -Just so with the tribe. It exists as a tribe only because, and in so far -as, it is conscious of itself, and in so far as the idea of the tribe -and devotion to its service determines the actions of individuals. The -mere fact of the possession of a tribal name suffices to prove the -existence of this self-consciousness. And, as a matter of fact, tribal -self-consciousness is in many cases extremely strongly developed; the -idea of the tribe, of its rights and powers, of its past and its future -plays a great part among warlike savages; and an injury done to the -tribe, or an insult offered to it, will often be kept in mind for many -years, even for generations, and will be avenged when an opportunity -occurs, even in spite of the certainty of death to many individuals and -the risk of extermination of the whole tribe. - -The federation of Iroquois tribes to form a rudimentary nation seems to -have been due to a self-conscious collective purpose. And, when other -tribes become fused to form nations, the same holds true. Consider the -Hebrew nation, one of the earliest historical examples of a number of -allied tribes becoming fused to a nation. Surely the idea of the nation -as the chosen people of Jehovah played a vital part in its -consolidation, implanted and fostered as it was by a succession of great -teachers, the prophets. Their work was to implant this idea and this -sentiment strongly in the minds of the people, to create and foster this -traditional sentiment by the aid of supernatural sanctions. The national -self-consciousness thus formed has continued to be not only one factor, -but almost the only factor or condition, of the continued existence of -the Jewish people as a people, or at any rate the one fundamental -condition on which all the others are founded--their exclusive religion, -their objection to intermarriage with outsiders, their hope of a future -restoration of the fortunes of the nation, and so forth. - -And the same is true of every real nation; its existence and its power -are grounded in its consciousness of itself, the idea of the nation as a -dominant factor in the minds of the individuals. The dominant sentiment -which centres about that idea is very different in the various nations. -It may be chiefly pride in the nation's past history, as in Spain; or -hope for its future, as in Japan; or the need of self-assertion in the -present, as in pre-war Germany. - -The political history of Europe in the nineteenth century is chiefly the -history of the national actions that have sprung from increase of -national self-consciousness resulting from the spread of education, from -the improvement of means of communication within each people and from -increase of intercourse between nations. The opening pages were the wars -in which the French people, suddenly aroused to an intense national -consciousness, successfully resisted and drove back all the other -European powers. Of other leading events the formation of modern Italy -and of modern Germany, of Bulgaria, Serbia, Greece, were results of the -awakening of national self-consciousness[86]. - -The resistance of the Japanese to the Russians and their victory over -them were in the fullest sense the immediate outcome of the idea of the -Japanese nation in the minds of all its people, leading to a strong -collective volition for the greater power, glory, and advancement of the -nation. The recent unrest in China is recognised on all hands to be the -expression of a dawning national self-consciousness. In Europe, Poland, -Finland, Hungary, and Ireland exemplify its workings very clearly in -recent years. The Magyars were not oppressed by the Austrians. They, -economically and individually, had nothing material to gain by a -separation from Austria; and in separating themselves they would have -risked much, their lives, and their material welfare; yet the idea of -the Magyar nation impelled them to it. The Poles of Germany were not -rebellious because they were ill-treated and their affairs -maladministered. If they could and would have cast out from their minds -the idea of the Polish nation, they might have comfortably shared in the -marvellously advancing material prosperity of Germany. But they were -severely treated by the Germans, because they were moved by this idea -and this sentiment; and the bad treatment it brought upon them did but -render the idea more vividly, more universally, present to the -consciousness of all, even of the little children at school, and, by -inflaming the passions which have their root in the national sentiment, -strengthened that sentiment. - -But for the idea of the Boer nation and the dawning national sentiment, -the late Boer war would never have occurred; and that sentiment was, as -in the case of the Japanese in their late war, the principal source of -the great energy displayed by the Boers and of such success as they -achieved. - -Even in India, the proposal to divide Bengal has suddenly discovered -among the Bengalese, the most submissive part of the population, the -part which has seemed most devoid of national spirit, the existence and -the importance as a political factor of the idea of the Bengalese as a -people and of sentiments centred upon that idea. - -The rapid increase of national self-consciousness among the peoples of -the world and the increasing part everywhere played by the sentiment for -national existence are in short the dominant facts in the present period -of world history; their influence overshadows all others. - -Since, then, any nation exists only in virtue of the existence of the -idea of the nation in the minds of the individuals of whom it is -composed, and in virtue of the influence of this idea upon their -actions, and since this idea plays so great a part in shaping the -history of the world, it is absurd to maintain that the general will is -but the blind resultant of the conflict of individual wills striving -after private ends and unconscious of the ends or purposes of the -nation. In opposition to such a view, we must maintain that a population -seeking only individual ends cannot form or continue to be a nation, -though all the other conditions we have noticed be present; that a -nation is real and vigorous in proportion as its consciousness of its -self is full and clear. In fact national progress and power and success -depend in chief part upon the fulness and the extension, the depth and -width of this self-consciousness--the accuracy and fulness with which -each individual mind reflects the whole; and upon the strength of the -sentiments which are centred upon it and which lead men to act for the -good of the whole, to postpone private to public ends. And the same -holds good of all the many forms of corporate life within the nation. -Each individual's sense of duty, in so far as it is a true sense of -duty, and not a fictitious sense due merely to superstitious fear or to -habit formed by suggestion and compulsion, is chiefly founded upon the -consciousness of the society of which he forms a part, upon the group -spirit that binds him to his fellows and makes him one with them. And -the nations in which this national self-consciousness is strongest and -most widely diffused will be the successful nations. - -Reflect a little on these facts vouched for by General Sir Ian Hamilton. -No soldier of the Japanese army, none even of the coolies, would accept -anything in the shape of a tip even for honest services rendered, lest -the purity of his motives should be sullied; and each man always went -into action not merely prepared to die if necessary, but actually -prepared and expecting to conquer and to die for the good and glory of -his nation. He writes "Japanese officers have constantly to explain to -their men that they must not consider the main object of the battle is -to get killed[87]." And he goes on to show that they are not fanatics, -are not inspired by any idea of the supernatural or by any hope of -rewards after death, as is usually the case of the Moslem soldier who -displays an equal recklessness of life. Surely, if in any nation the -national consciousness could inspire and maintain all classes of its -people in all relations of life to this high level of strenuous -self-sacrifice for the welfare of the nation, that nation would soon -predominate over all others, and be impregnably strong, no matter what -defects of individual and national character it might display. - -The idea of the nation is, then, a bond between its members over and -above all those bonds of custom, of habit, of economic interdependence, -of law and of self-interest, of sympathy, of imitation, of collective -emotion and thought, which inevitably arise among a homogeneous people -occupying any defined area; and it is the most powerful and essential of -them all. As Fouillée put it, the essential characteristic of human -society is that "it is an organism which realises itself in conceiving -and in willing its own existence. Any collection of men becomes a -society in the only true sense of the word, when all the men conceive -more or less clearly the type of organic whole which they can form by -uniting themselves and when they effectively unite themselves under the -determining influence of this conception. Society is then an organism -which exists because it has been thought and willed, it is an organism -born of an idea[88]." In this sense Society has never yet been perfectly -realized, but it is the ideal towards which social evolution tends. - -National group self-consciousness plays, then, an all-important part in -the life of nations, is in fact the actual, the most essential -constitutive factor of every nation; and nationhood or the principal of -nationality is the dominant note of world history in the present epoch; -that is to say, the desire and aspiration to achieve nationhood, or to -strengthen and advance the life of the nation, is the most powerful -motive underlying the collective actions of almost all civilised and -even of semi-civilised mankind; and the consequent rivalry between -nations overshadows every other feature of modern world history, and is -convulsing and threatening to destroy the whole of modern civilisation. -It is surely well worthy of serious study. Yet, owing to the backward -and neglected state of psychology, not only is this study neglected, -but, as we have seen, some of our leading political philosophers have -not yet even realized the essential nature of the problem; and many of -the historians, economists and political writers are even further from a -grasp of its nature. They have been forced by the prominence and urgency -of the facts to recognise what they call the principle of nationality; -and even now the majority of them are demanding that, in the European -settlement and in the affairs of the world in general, the principle of -nationality shall be given the leading place and the decisive voice. But -they do not recognise that the understanding of this principle, this -all-powerful political factor, is primarily and purely a psychological -problem. We find them, in discussing the nature of nations and the -conditions of nationality, perhaps mentioning the psychological view of -nations as a curious aberration of a few academic cranks, from which -they turn to discover the true secret of nationality in such -considerations as geographical boundaries, race, language, history, and -above all economic factors; they do not see that each and all of these -conditions, real and important though they are and have been in shaping -the history and determining the existence of nations, only play their -parts indirectly by affecting men's minds, their beliefs, opinions, and -sentiments, especially by favouring or repressing the development in -each people of the idea of the nation. - -The all-dominant influence of the idea of the nation, I insist, is not a -theory or a speculative suggestion, it is a literal and obvious fact. -Let every other one of the favouring conditions of nationality, the -geographical, historical, economic be realised by a population; yet, if -that population has no collective self-consciousness, is not strongly -actuated to collective volition by the group spirit, it will remain not -a nation, but a mere aggregate of individuals, having more or less -organic unity due to the differentiation and interdependence of its -parts, but lacking that higher bond of unity which alone can ensure its -stability and continuity, and which, especially, can alone enable it to -withstand and survive the peaceful pressure or the warlike impact of -true nations. - -I am not at present defending nationality; I shall come back to the -question of its value. I am now only concerned with the psychological -problem of the nature and conditions of the development of national -self-consciousness. I have been using the latter phrase and the phrase -'the idea of the nation' as a shorthand expression; but I must remind -the reader that we have to beware of the intellectualist error of -regarding ideas as moving powers; ideas as merely intellectual -representations or conceptions have no motive power, they are in -themselves indifferent. It is only in so far as the object conceived -becomes the object of some sentiment that the conception of it moves us -strongly to feeling and action. I must refer, therefore, to what I have -written on the sentiments and the self-regarding sentiment[89]. Here I -would insist on the strictness in this point of our analogy between the -individual and the national mind. I have pointed out that the -individual's idea of himself only develops beyond a rudimentary stage in -virtue of and in so far as this idea becomes the nucleus of a strong -self-regarding sentiment which gives him an interest in himself, directs -his attention upon his own personality and its relations, and impels him -to strive to know himself. So that a developed individual -self-consciousness never is and never can be a purely intellectual -growth, but always involves a strong sentiment, a centering of emotional -conative tendencies upon this object, the self. Exactly the same is true -of nations. - -Hence national self-consciousness can never develop except in the form -of an idea of strong affective tone, that is to say a sentiment. Hence, -whenever we speak of national self-consciousness or the idea of the -nation as a powerful factor in its life, the sentiment is implied, and I -have implied it when using these expressions hitherto. This national -sentiment, which, if we use the word in its widest sense, may be called -patriotism, is, like all the other group sentiments, developed by way -of extension of the self-regarding sentiment of the individual to the -group, and may be further complicated and strengthened by the inclusion -of other tendencies. A point of especial importance is that this great -group sentiment can hardly be developed otherwise than by way of -extension of sentiments for smaller included groups, the family -especially. For the idea of the nation is too difficult for the grasp of -the child's mind, and cannot, therefore, become the object of a -sentiment until the intellectual powers are considerably developed. -Hence the development of a family sentiment, or of one for some other -small easily conceived group, is essential for the development in the -child of those modes of mental action which are involved in all group -feeling and action. For this reason the family is the surest, perhaps -essential, foundation of national life; and national self-consciousness -is strongest, where family life is strongest. - -The development of the group spirit in general and of national -self-consciousness in particular is favoured by, and indeed dependent -upon, conditions similar to those which develop the self-consciousness -of individuals. Here is another striking point of the analogy between -the individual and the national mind. Passing over other conditions, let -us notice one, the most important of all. The individual's consciousness -of self is developed chiefly by intercourse with other individuals--by -imitation, by conflict, by compulsion, and by co-operation. Without such -intercourse it must remain rudimentary. The individual's conception of -himself is perpetually extended by his increasing knowledge of other -selves; and his knowledge of those other selves grows in the light of -his knowledge of himself. There is perpetual reciprocal action. The same -is true of peoples. A population living shut off, isolated from the rest -of the world, within which no distinctions of tribe and race existed, -would never become conscious of itself as one people and, therefore, -would not become a nation. Some such conditions obtained for long ages -among the pastoral hordes of the central Eurasian Steppes, which, so -long as they remained there, have never formed a nation; and the same -was true of the tribes of Arabia, until Mahomet impelled them by his -religion of the sword to hurl themselves upon neighbouring peoples. - -Of civilised peoples, China has had least intercourse with the outer -world. The Chinese knew too little of other races to imitate them; they -did not come into conflict or co-operation with others, save in a very -partial manner at long intervals of time, or only with their Mongol -conquerors, whom they despised as inferior to them in everything but -warfare, and whom they abhorred. Hence, in spite of the homogeneity of -the people, of the common culture, and of the vast influence of great -teachers, national consciousness and the group spirit in all its forms -remained at a low level. Hence, a great deficiency in those virtues -which have their root in the social consciousness; a low standard of -public duty, a lack of the sense of obligation to society. Hence, the -corruptness and hollowness of all official transactions and political -life. Want of honesty in public affairs is not the expression of an -inherent defect of the Chinese character; for in commercial relations -with Europeans the Chinaman has proved himself extremely trustworthy, -much superior indeed in this respect to some other peoples. It is -probable that, if China, like Europe, had long ago been divided into a -number of nations, each of them, through action and reaction upon the -rest, would have developed a much fuller national consciousness than -exists at present and some considerable degree of public spirit and -would consequently have advanced very much farther in the scale of -social evolution, instead of standing still as the whole people has done -for so long. - -Everywhere we can see the illustrations of this law. Of all forms of -intercourse, conflict and competition are the most effective in -developing national consciousness and character, because they bring a -common purpose to the minds of all individuals; and that is the -condition of the highest degree and effectiveness of collective mental -action and volition. It is under these conditions that the idea of the -nation and the will to protect it and to forward its interests become -predominant in the minds of individuals; and the more so the greater the -public danger, the greater and the more obvious the need for the -postponement of private ends to the general end. - -Already there is beginning to develop a European self-consciousness and -a European purpose, provoked by the demonstration of the hitherto latent -power of Asia; and, if a federation of European peoples is ever to be -realised, it will be the result of their further development through -opposition to a great and threatening Asiatic power, a revived Moslem -empire, or possibly a threatened American domination[90]. - -Although war has hitherto been the most important condition of the -development of national consciousness, it is not the only one; and it -remains to be seen whether industrial or other forms of rivalry can play -a similar part. Probably, industrial rivalry cannot; the accumulation -of wealth is too largely dependent upon the accidents of material -conditions to become a legitimate source of national satisfaction; for, -unlike the satisfaction arising from successful exertion of military -power, it does not imply intrinsic superiorities. If the natural -conditions of material prosperity could be equalised for all nations, -then the acquisition of superior wealth, implying as it would superior -capacities, might become a sufficiently satisfying end of national -action; just as the equalisation of conditions among individuals in -America has for the present rendered the accumulation of wealth a -sufficient end, because such accumulation implies superior powers and is -the mark of personal superiority. - -Other forms of rivalry--rivalry in art, science, letters, in efficiency -of social and political organisation, even in games and sports, all play -some part; and it is possible that together they might suffice to -constitute sufficient stimulus, even though the possibility of war -should be for ever removed[91]. - -But national self-consciousness is not developed by conflict and rivalry -only. It is refined and enriched by all other forms of intercourse. In -studying other peoples, their organisation and their history, we become -more clearly aware of the defects and the qualities and potentialities -of our own nation. And in this way, refinement of national consciousness -is now going on rapidly in the European peoples. The latest considerable -advance is due to the observation of Japan; for this has clearly -demonstrated the imperfection of many conceptions that were current -among us and has brought a certain abatement of national complacency and -a greater earnestness of national self-criticism, which is highly -favourable to increase of national self-knowledge[92]. - -We might place nations in a scale of nationhood. The scale would -correspond roughly to one in which they were arranged according to the -degree to which the public good is the end, and the desire of it the -motive, of men's actions; this in turn would correspond to a scale in -which they were arranged according to the degree of development and -diffusion of the national consciousness, of the idea of the nation or -society as a whole; and this again to one in which they were arranged -according to the degree of intercourse they have had with other nations. -At the bottom of the scale would stand the people of Thibet, the most -isolated people of the world; near them the Chinese, who also have until -recently been almost entirely excluded from international intercourse. -Such peoples have a national consciousness and sentiment which is -extremely vague and imperfect. They do not realise their weakness, their -strength or their potentialities, but have an unenlightened pride -without aspiration for a higher form of national life. A little above -them would stand Russia, which has remained for so long outside the area -of European international life. While at the top of the scale would be -those nations which have borne their part in all the strain and stress -and friction of European rivalry and intercourse. - -These degrees of international intercourse have been very largely -determined by geographical conditions; isolation, and consequent -backwardness in national evolution, being in nearly every case due to -remoteness of position. The most important factor of modern times making -for more rapid social evolution is probably the practical destruction or -overcoming of the barriers between peoples; for thus all peoples are -brought into the international arena, and their national spirit is -developed through international intercourse and rivalry. - -It is this increasing contact and intercourse of peoples, brought about -by the increased facilities of communication, which has quickened the -growth of national self-consciousness throughout all the world and has -made the principle of nationality or, more properly, the desire for -nationhood and for national existence and development, for -self-assertion and for international recognition, the all-important -feature of modern times, overshadowing every other phenomenon that -historians have to notice, or statesmen to reckon with. - -The American nation is interesting in this connexion. If we ask--Why is -their public life on a relatively low level, in spite of so many -favouring conditions, including a healthy and strong public opinion?--the -answer is that they have been until recently too much shut off from -collective intercourse with other nations, too far removed from the -region of conflict and rivalry. And judicious well-wishers of the -American nation rejoice that it has recently entered more fully into the -international arena, and has not continued to pursue the policy of -isolation, which was long in favour; because, as is already manifest, -this fuller intercourse and intenser rivalry with other nations must -render fuller and more effective their national spirit, develop the -national will and raise the national life to a higher plane, giving to -individuals higher ends and motives than the mere accumulation of -wealth, and removing that self-complacency as regards their national -existence which hitherto has characterised them in common with the -peoples of Thibet and China. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -IDEAS IN NATIONAL LIFE - - -We have seen that the idea of the nation can and does, in virtue of the -formation of the sentiment of devotion to it, lead men to choose and -decide and act for the sake of the nation; they desire the welfare and -the good of the nation as a whole, they value its material prosperity -and its reputation in the eyes of other nations; and, in so far as the -decisions and actions of a nation proceed from this motive, co-operating -with and controlling other motives in the minds of its members, such -decision and action are the expressions of true collective volition. - -It is truly volition because it conforms to the true type of volition. -Individual volition can only be marked off from every impulsive action -and every lower form of effort, by the fact that in true volition, among -all the impulses or motives that may impel a man to action or decision, -the dominant rôle is played by a motive that springs from his -self-regarding sentiment. This motive is a desire to achieve a -particular end, which, viewed as the achievement of the self, brings him -satisfaction, because the thought of himself achieving this end is in -harmony with the ideal of the self which he has gradually built up and -has learnt to desire to realize under the influence of his social -setting. The same is true of national volition. - -And it is collective volition in so far as the deliberations by which -the decision of the nation has been reached have been effected through -those formally and informally organised relations and channels of -communication and by means of all the various modes of interaction of -persons by which public opinion is formed and in which it is guided and -controlled by the living traditions of the nation. - -That this is the true nature of national volition may be more clearly -realized on considering some instances of national action which could -not properly be called the expression of the will of the Nation. A -tariff might be adopted because a large number of men desired it, each -in order that he himself might get rich more quickly; and, even though a -large majority, or even all men, desired it, each for his private end, -it would not be the expression of the national will, it would not be due -to collective volition; it would be the expression of the will of all. -Nor would it be an expression of the national will, even if each -believed that, not only he, but also all his fellows would be enriched, -and if he desired it for that reason also; that would be an expression -of the will of all for the good of all. Only if and in so far as the -decision was reached through the influence of those who desired it, -because it seemed to them to be for the good of the whole nation, would -it be the expression of the will of the nation. - -And the difference would be not merely a difference of motive; the -difference might be very important in respect both of the deliberative -processes by which the decision was reached and also in respect of its -ultimate consequences. For the will of all for the good of all would -have reference only to the immediate future; whereas the truly national -will would be influenced not only by consideration of the good of all -existing citizens, but, in an even greater degree, by the thought of the -continued welfare of the whole nation, in the remote future. - -Again, suppose that, on the occasion of an insult or injury to the -nation (I remind the reader of the incident in the North Sea when the -Russian fleet fired on our fishing boats), a wave of anger against the -offending nation sweeps over the whole country and that this outburst of -popular fury plunges the nation into war. That would be collective -mental process, but not volition; it would be action on the plane of -impulse or desire, unregulated by reflection upon the end proposed in -relation to the welfare of the nation and by the motives to action that -are stirred by such reflection. - -Again, suppose a nation of which every member was patriotic, and suppose -that some proposed national action were pondered upon by each man apart -in his own chamber, without consultation and discussion with his fellows -in public and private. Then, though the decision would be true volition, -in so far as it was determined by each man's desire for the national -welfare, it yet would not be collective or national volition; because -not reached by collective deliberation. - -We have seen that the idea of the nation, present to the minds of the -mass of its members, is an essential condition of the nation's existence -in any true sense of the word nation; that the idea alone as an -intellectual apprehension cannot exert any large influence; that it -determines judgment and action only in virtue of the sentiment which -grows up about this object--a sentiment which is transmitted and fostered -from generation to generation, just because it renders the nation an -object of value. The consideration should be obvious enough; but it has -commonly been ignored by philosophers of the intellectualist school. -They treat the individual mind as a system of ideas; they ignore the -fact that it has a conative side which has its own organisation, -partially distinct from, though not independent of, the intellectual -side; and consequently they ignore equally the fact that the national -mind has its conative organisation. - -Imagine a people in whom anti-nationalism (in the form of -cosmopolitanism, syndicalism or philosophic anarchism) had spread, until -this attitude towards the nation-state as such had become adopted by -half its members, while the other half remained patriotic. Then there -would be acute conflict and discussion, and the idea of the nation would -be vividly present to all minds; but the nature of the sentiment -attached to it would be different and opposite in the two halves; one of -attachment and devotion in the one half; of dislike, aversion, or at -least indifference (i.e. lack of sentiment) in the other half. And the -efforts of the one half to maintain the nation as a unit would be -antagonised and perhaps rendered nugatory by the indifference or -opposition of the other half, who would always seek to break down -national boundaries and would refuse co-operation in any national -action, and who would league themselves with bodies of similar interests -and anti-national tendencies in other countries. Then, even though all -might be well-meaning people desiring the good of mankind, the nation -would be very greatly weakened and probably would soon cease to exist as -such. - -The illustration shews the importance of the distinction which Rousseau -did not draw in his discussion of the general will--namely, the -distinction between the good of all and the good of the whole, i.e. of -the nation as such. It might be argued that the distinction is purely -verbal; it might be said that, if you secure the good of all, you -thereby _ipso facto_ secure the good of the whole, because the whole -consists of the sum of existing individuals; and that this is obvious, -because, if you take them away, no whole remains. But to argue thus is -to ignore the fact on which we have already insisted--namely, that the -whole is much more than the sum of the existing units, because it has an -indefinitely long future before it and a part to play, through -indefinitely long periods of time, as a factor in the general welfare -and progress of mankind. - -So much greater is the whole than the sum of its existing parts, that it -might well seem right to sacrifice the welfare and happiness of one or -two or more generations, and even the lives of the majority of the -citizens, if that were necessary to the preservation and future welfare -of the whole nation as such. This is no merely theoretical distinction, -it is one of the highest practical importance, which we may illustrate -in two ways. - -A whole nation may be confronted with the alternative, may be forced to -choose between the good of all and the good of the whole. Such a choice -was, it may be said without exaggeration, suddenly presented to the -Belgian people, and only less acutely to ourselves and to Italy, by the -recent European conflagration; and in each case the good of the whole -has been preferred. Is it not probable and obvious that, if each or all -of these peoples had consented to the domination of Germany, the -material welfare of all their existing citizens might well have been -increased, rather than diminished, and that their choice has involved -not only the loss of life of large numbers of their citizens and great -sufferings for nearly all the others, but also enormous sacrifice of -material prosperity, in order that the whole may survive and eventually -prosper as a nation working out its national destiny free from external -domination? There are, or were, those who say that they would just as -soon live under German rule, because they would be governed at least as -well and perhaps better than by their own government hitherto; and there -is perhaps nothing intrinsically bad or wrong in this attitude; the -question of its rightness or wrongness turns wholly on the valuation of -nationality. It is easier to appreciate this plea on behalf of another -people than our own. One may hear it said even now that, after all, it -would have been better for Belgium that she should have entered into the -group of Germanic powers in some sort of federal system or Customs -union; that, in general, it is ridiculous that the small states should -claim sovereign powers and pretend to have their own foreign policy and -so forth; that they are struggling against the inevitable, against a -universal and necessary tendency for the absorption of the smaller -states by the larger. - -We may illustrate the difference between regard for the good of all -members of the nation and of the nation itself in another way--namely, by -reference to socialism, the principle which would abolish inequalities -of wealth and opportunity, as far as possible, by abolishing or greatly -restricting the rights of private property and capital, especially the -right of inheritance. There can, I think, be little doubt that the -adoption of socialism in this sense by almost any modern nation would -increase the well being and happiness of its members very decidedly on -the whole for the present generation and possibly for some generations -to come. It is in respect of the continued welfare of the whole and of -its perpetuation as an evolving and progressing organism that the -effects seem likely to be decidedly bad. The socialists are in the main -those who fix their desire and attention on the good of all; hence they -are for the most part inclined to set a low value on nationality, even -while they demand a vast extension of the functions of the State, -conceived as an organised system of administration. Those, on the other -hand, who repudiate socialism, not merely because they belong to the -class of 'Haves,' must seek their justification in the consideration of -the probable effects of such a change on the welfare of the nation -conceived as an organism whose value far transcends the lives of the -present generation. - -When, then, we attribute to the idea of the nation or to the national -consciousness this all-important creative, constitutive, and -conservative function, we must be clear that the idea is not an -intellectual conception merely, but implies an enduring emotional -conative attitude which is the sentiment of devotion to the nation; and, -further, we must remember that the nation means not simply all existing -individuals, the mere momentary embodiment of the nation, but something -that is far greater, because it includes all the potentialities embodied -in the existing persons and organisation. - -It is the presence and operation in the national mind of the idea of the -nation in the extended sense just indicated that gives to national -decisions and actions the character of truly collective volitions; they -approach this type more nearly, the more the idea is rich in meaning and -adequate or true, and the more widely it is spread, and the more -powerful and widely spread is the sentiment which attaches value to the -nation and sways men to decision and action for the sake of the whole, -determining the issue among all other conflicting motives. - -And it is the working of the national spirit and the acceptance of and -devotion to the national organisation which render the submission of the -minority to the means chosen by the majority a voluntary submission; for -it is of the essence of that organisation that, while all accept and -will the same most general end, namely the welfare of the whole, the -choice of means must be determined by the judgment of the majority, -formed and expressed as a collective judgment and opinion by way of all -the many channels of reciprocal influence that the national -organisation, both formal and informal, provides. In so far as each man -holds this attitude, esteeming the nation and accepting loyally its -constitution or organisation, the decision determined by even a bare -majority vote of parliament becomes the expression of the national will; -and the co-operation in carrying it out of those who did not judge the -method to be wise, and who therefore voted against it, yet becomes a -truly voluntary co-operation, in so far as they accept the established -organisation. - -The point may be illustrated by the instance of a nation going to war. A -large minority may be against war, for reasons which to them may seem to -be of the highest kind; it may be that they judge the nation to be -morally in the wrong in the matter in dispute, or very questionably in -the right, as many Englishmen did during the Boer War; and yet, if, by -the accepted organised channels of national deliberation and decision, -war has been declared, then, although it was their duty to do what they -could to make their opinion prevail before the decision was reached, -there is no moral inconsistency in their supporting the war measures -with all their strength. It is in fact implied in their loyalty, if they -are loyal and patriotic, that they shall yield their individual opinion -to the expression of the national will and shall accept the means chosen -to the common end. That is the truth implied in the phrase--My country -right or wrong. Of course, this phrase may be taken in a reprehensible -sense, as meaning that any opportunity of forwarding the immediate -interests of one's country must be taken, regardless of the interests of -other communities and of the obligations of common honesty and humanity -upon which all human welfare depends. - -In the same way, a man might disapprove of a particular tax, say on -liquor, or of obligatory military service; and yet he may accept the -national will and serve faithfully as a soldier, without inconsistency, -and without ceasing to be a free agent truly willing the acts imposed by -his position in the whole organisation; just as during the late war many -priests served as soldiers in the French army. Or, to take an extreme -instance, a man who has broken the law and even incurred the death -penalty may be truly said to undergo his punishment of imprisonment or -death as a morally free agent, if he is loyal to his country and its -institutions, accepting the penalty, while yet believing his action to -be right. Such perfect loyalty to the nation is of course rare; and in -all actual nations men have progressed towards it in very different -degrees. Most existing nations have emerged from preceding despotisms by -the repeated widening of the sphere of freedom, as the growth of loyalty -in strength and extension rendered such freedom consistent with the -survival of the State and its administrative functions. - -Thus a people progresses from the status of an organism, in which the -parts are subordinated to the whole without choice or free volition on -their part, or even against their wills, towards the ideal of a -Nation-state, an organic whole which is founded wholly upon voluntary -contract between each member and the whole, and in which the distinction -between the State and the nation becomes gradually overcome and replaced -by identity. For, as national self-consciousness develops and each man -conceives more fully and clearly the whole nation and his place and -function in it, and grows in loyalty to the nation, he ceases to obey -the laws merely because he is constrained by the authority and force of -the State. An increasing proportion of citizens obey the law and render -due services voluntarily, because they perceive that, in so doing, they -are contributing towards the good of the whole which they value highly; -in so far as they act in this spirit, the actions and restraints -prescribed by law become their voluntary actions and restraints. - -Thus the theory that society is founded upon a _Social Contract_, which, -if taken as a description of the historical process of genesis, is -false, is true, if accepted as the constitutive principle of the ideal -State towards which progressive nations are tending. - -And, as the organisation of a nation becomes less dependent upon outer -authority and upon mere custom and the unreasoning acceptance of -tradition, and more and more upon free consent and voluntary contract, -the nation does not cease to be an organism; it retains that formal and -informal organisation which has developed in large part without the -deliberate guidance of the collective will and which is essential to its -collective life; the national mind, as it grows in force and extension -and understanding of its own organisation, accepts those features which -it finds good, and gradually modifies those which appear less good in -the light of its increasing self knowledge; and so it tends more and -more to become a contractual organism, which, as Fouillée has insisted, -is the highest type of society. - -It should be noticed that this ideal of the contractual organism -synthesises the two great doctrines or theories of society which have -generally been regarded as irreconcilable alternatives: the doctrine of -society as an organism, and that of society as founded upon reason and -free will. They have been treated as opposed and irreconcilable -doctrines, because those who regarded society as an organism, taking -the standpoint of natural science, have laid stress upon its evolution -by biological accidents and by the interaction and conflict of many -blind impulses and purely individual volitions, in which collective -volition, governed by an ideal of the form to be achieved, had no part. -While, on the other hand, the idealist philosophers, describing society -or the nation as wholly the work of reason and free will, have been -guilty of the intellectualist fallacy of regarding man as a purely -rational being; they have ignored the fact that all men, even the most -intellectual, are largely swayed and moulded by processes of suggestion, -imitation, sympathy, and instinctive impulse, in quite non-rational -ways; and they have ignored still more completely the fact that the -operation of these non-rational processes continues to be not only of -immense influence but also inevitable and necessary to the maintenance -of that organic unity of society upon which as a basis the -contract-unity is superimposed as a bond of a higher, more rational and -more spiritual quality. - -The former doctrine logically tends to the paralysis of social effort -and to the adoption of extreme individualism, to the doctrine of each -man for himself, and of _laissez faire_, doctrines such as those of -Herbert Spencer. The other, the idealist theory of the state as being -founded and formed by reason, tends equally logically towards extreme -State socialism; because its overweening belief in reason leads it to -ignore the large and necessary basis of subrational organisation and -operation. - -Only a synthesis of the two in the doctrine of the contractual organism -can reconcile them and give us the ideal of a nation in which the -maximum and perfection of organisation shall be combined with the -maximum of liberty, because in it each individual will be aware of the -whole and his place and functions in it, and will voluntarily accept -that place and perform those functions. - -The highest, most perfectly organised and effective nation is, then, not -that in which the individuals are disposed of, their actions completely -controlled, and their wills suppressed by the power of the State. It is, -rather, one in which the self-consciousness and initiative and volition -of individuals, personality in short, is developed to the highest -degree, and in which the minds and wills of the members work -harmoniously together under the guidance and pressure of the idea of the -nation, rendered in the highest degree explicit and full and accurate. - - -THE VALUE OF NATIONALITY - -At the present time, while the mass of men continue to accept the duty -of patriotism unquestioningly, and historians for the most part are -content to describe with some astonishment the immense development of -nationalism in the past century, many voices are loudly raised for and -against nationality. The great mass of men no doubt are swept away in -the flood of patriotic feeling. But the war has also intensified the -antipathy, and given increased force to the arguments, of those who -decry nationality and deprecate patriotism--for these are but two -different modes of expressing the same attitude. - -There are two principal classes of the anti-nationalists. First, the -philosophic anarchists, who would abolish all states and governments, as -unnecessary evils, men like Kropotkin and Tolstoi. Secondly, the -cosmopolitans, who, while believing in the necessity of government and -even demanding more centralised administration, would yet abolish all -national boundaries as far as possible, boundaries of geography, of -language, race and sentiment, and all national governments, and would -aim at the establishment of one great world state. - -Though the aims of these two parties are so widely different, they use -much the same arguments against nationalism. According to the -anti-nationalist view, nationalism and the patriotism in which it is -founded are a kind of disease of human nature, which, owing to the -unfortunate fact that mankind has retained the gregarious instinct of -his animal ancestors, inevitably breaks out as soon as any community -begins to come into free contact and rivalry with other communities, and -which tends to grow in force in a purely instinctive and irrational -manner the more these contacts and rivalries increase. - -The liability to patriotism is thus regarded as closely comparable with -mankind's unfortunate liability to drunkenness, to feel the fascination -of strong liquor--as merely a natural and inevitable result or by-product -of an unfortunate flaw in human nature--a tendency which will have to be -sternly repressed and, if possible, eradicated, before men can hope to -live in peace and tolerable security and to develop their higher -capacities. - -The fact that patriotism of some degree and form is universally -displayed, and that it breaks out everywhere into heat and flame when -certain conditions are realized, does not for them in any degree justify -it; and it should not, they hold, reconcile us to its continued -existence; they draw an indictment not merely against a whole people, -but against the whole human race. They attack nationalism, firstly, by -describing what in their opinion patriotism is and whence it comes; -secondly, by describing what they believe to be the natural consequences -and effects of nationalism. - -The most common mode of attack is to identify patriotism with jingoism; -they speak of "jelly-bellied flag-flappers" of flag-wagging and -mafficking; they assert that the essence of patriotism is hatred and all -uncharitableness towards other countries and their citizens.[93] - -Less virulent is the criticism of those who, looking coldly upon -patriotism, describe it as the mere blind expression of the working of -the gregarious instinct among us, and as something therefore quite -irrational, which must and will tend to disappear, as men become more -enlightened and are guided more by reason and less by instinct.[94] - -Again, it is said that patriotism is a form of selfishness and therefore -bad; that it is a limitation of our sympathies, a principle of -injustice; that it stands in the way of the realisation of universal -justice, of the universal brotherhood of man, which is the ideal we -obviously must accept and aim at. Or in other words, and this is the -main indictment, it is alleged that patriotism and nationalism -inevitably tend to produce war, that they keep the rival nations -perpetually arming for possible wars and actually in commercial and -economic war, if not at real war. And of course the evils of warfare and -of such perpetual preparation for war are great and obvious enough in -modern Europe. In support of this indictment, they point to the golden -age of the Roman Empire, when the inhabitants of all its parts were -content to sink their differences of race and country and were proud to -proclaim themselves citizens of the Roman Empire; and they say that in -consequence the civilised world attained then a pitch of prosperity and -contentment never known before or since over any large area of the -earth. - -This is a formidable indictment, to which the exponents and advocates of -patriotism have for the most part been content to reply by renewed -exhortations to patriotism, by emotional appeals, by rhetoric, by the -quotation of patriotic verses, the citation of the glorious deeds of our -armies and soldiers now and in past times, by all the arts of persuasion -and suggestion. As a fine example of this method one may cite Mr -Stratford Wingfield's _History of British Patriotism_, in which he not -only confines himself to these methods, but shows a positive dislike and -contempt for all attempts to apply reason and scientific method to the -study of human affairs.[95] In maintaining this attitude, the advocates -of patriotism give some colour to the claim of their opponents that -patriotism or nationalism is essentially irrational, in the sense that -it is incapable of justification by reason. - -The politicians and historians, on the other hand, who are so generally -demanding that the European settlement after the war must accept -nationality as its fundamental principle, are commonly content to note -the strength and the wide distribution of the patriotic sentiment, -without enquiring into its origin, nature, or value. - -Let us examine the arguments against patriotism and then see what reason -can advance in its defence. For, though a rational defence of patriotism -will have little direct effect in making patriots, we may be sure that, -if such defence cannot be maintained, patriotism will have to fight a -losing battle. - -In disparaging patriotism by describing it as the work of an instinct, -the gregarious or the pugnacious or other instinct, or of several -instincts, its critics are guilty of two psychological errors and a -popular fallacy. The last is the fallacy that the worth of any thing is -to be judged by the course from which it springs. Even if patriotism -were nothing more than the direct expression of the gregarious instinct -which we possess in common with many of the higher animals, that would -not in itself condemn it. But this description of it, as a product of -instinct as opposed to the principles we attain by reason, involves that -false disjunction and opposition of reason to instinct which is -traditional and which the intellectualist philosophers commonly adopt, -when they condescend to recognise in any way the presence of instinctive -tendencies in human nature. - -The other psychological error is the failure to recognize that -patriotism although, like all other great mental forces, it is rooted in -instinct, is not itself an instinct or the direct expression of any -instinct or group of instincts, but is rather an extremely complicated -sentiment, which has a long and complex history in each individual mind -in which it manifests itself; that it is, therefore, capable of infinite -variety and of an indefinite degree of intellectualisation and -refinement; that the cult of patriotism is, therefore, a field for -educational effort of the highest order, and that in this field moral -and intellectual education may achieve their noblest and most -far-reaching effects. - -The psychological justification of patriotism has already been -indicated, but may be concisely stated here. The moral value of the -group spirit was considered in an earlier chapter; we saw how it, and it -alone, raises the conduct of the mass of men above the plane of simple -egoism or family selfishness. The sentiment of devotion or loyalty to -any group has this virtue in some degree; but loyalty to the nation is -capable of exalting character and conduct in a higher degree than any -other form of the group spirit. For the nation alone has continuity of -existence in the highest degree; a long past which gives a large -perspective of past history, involving the history of long series of -self-sacrificing efforts and many heroic actions; and the prospect of an -indefinitely prolonged future, with the possibility of continued -progress and development of every kind, and therefore some security for -the perpetuation of the results achieved by individual efforts[96]. - -Further, the nation alone, is a self-contained and complete organism; -other groups within it do but minister to the life of the whole; their -value is relative to that of the whole; the continuance of results -achieved on their behalf is dependent upon the continued welfare of the -whole (for example, the welfare of any class or profession--a fact too -easily overlooked by those in whom class spirit grows strong). Hence, -the nation, as an object of sentiment, includes all smaller groups -within it; and, when the nation is regarded from an enlightened point of -view, the sentiment for it naturally comes to include in one great -system all minor group sentiments and to be strengthened by their -incorporation. - -It is important to notice also that, just as the minor group sentiments -are not incompatible with, but rather may strengthen, the national -sentiment, when subordinated to and incorporated in it, so the national -sentiment is not incompatible with still more widely inclusive group -sentiments--for example, that for a European system of nations, for the -'League of Nations' or for Western Civilisation in general. And, while -loyalty to humanity as a whole is a noble ideal, it is one which can -only be realized through a further step of that process of extension of -the object of the group sentiment, of which extension patriotism itself -is the culmination at present for the great mass of civilised mankind. -The attempt to achieve it by any other road is bound to fail because -psychologically unsound[97]. - -Let us note in passing that neglect of this truth gives rise to two of -the extreme forms of political doctrine or ideal, current at the present -day; first, the ideal of the brotherhood of man in a nationless world; -secondly, the extreme form of democratic individualism which assumes -that the good of society is best promoted by the freest possible pursuit -by individuals of their private ends, which believes that each man must -have an equal voice in the government of his country, because that is -the only way in which his interests and those of his class can be -protected and forwarded; a doctrine which regards public life as a mere -strife of private and class interests. Both ideals fly in the face of -psychological facts; and, though they are in appearance extreme -opposites, they are apt to be found associated in the same minds. - -At the other end of the scale, we have the philosophical conservatism of -such a thinker as Edmund Burke, which is keenly aware of the organic -unity of society and looks constantly to the good of the whole, deriving -from that consideration its leading motives and principles, and which -trusts principally to the growth of the group spirit for the holding of -the balance between conflicting interests and for the promotion of the -public welfare. - -Having seen the importance for national life of the idea of the nation, -the diffusion of which through the minds of the people constitutes -national self-consciousness, let us glance for a moment at the way other -ideas may play leading rôles in national life. Such are ideas which -became national ideals, that is to say, ideas of some end to be realised -by the nation which became widely entertained and the objects of strong -sentiments and of collective emotion and desire and which, therefore, -determine collective action. - -I shall not attempt to deal separately with various classes of such -ideas, or ideals--the political, the religious, the economic; but shall -only note the fact that they have played and may yet play great parts in -the history of the world. - -Men are not swayed exclusively by considerations of material -self-interest, as the older school of economists generally assumed; nor -even by spiritual self-interest, as too much of the religious teaching -of the past has assumed; nor even by consideration of the welfare of the -social groups of which they are members. Many of the great events of -history have been determined by ideas that have had no relation to -individual welfare, but have inspired a collective enthusiasm for -collective action, for national effort, of a disinterested kind; and the -lives of some nations have been dominated by some one or two such ideas. -These ideas are first conceived and taught by some great man, or by a -few men who have acquired prestige and influence; they then become -generally accepted by suggestion and imitation, accepted more or less -uncritically and established beyond the reach of argument and reasoning. - -No matter what the character of the idea, its collective acceptance by a -people enhances for the time the homogeneity of mind among them, renders -the people more intimately a unity, and serves also to mark it off more -sharply from other peoples among whom other ideas prevail. - -But, besides thus binding together at any period of its history the -people that entertains it the generally accepted idea, if it endures, -may produce further effects by becoming incorporated in the national -organisation; in so far as it determines the form of activity of the -people, it moulds their institutions and customs into harmony with -itself, until they become in some measure its embodiment and expression; -and in any vigorous nation there are usually one or two dominant ideas -at work in this way. - -It is a favourite dogma with some writers (for example M. le Bon) that -ideas, before they can exert great effects in the life of a nation, must -first become unconscious ideas, incorporated as they say in the -unconscious soul of a people. This is an obscure confused doctrine, -which, if it is meant to be taken literally, we can only reject. If it -is to have any real meaning, it must be taken in the sense that the long -prevalence of the ideal moulds the institutions and customs and the -executive organisation of a people, so that national action towards the -ideal end becomes more or less automatic or routine. - -If the ideal so accepted and incorporated in the organised structure of -the national mind, is one that makes for strength and at the same time -permits of progress, it lives on; in other cases it may destroy the -nation, or petrify it, arresting all progress. - -Consider one or two examples of ideas that have played dominant rôles in -the lives of nations. They are mostly political, or religious, or, most -powerful of all, politico-religious. The idea of world-conquest has -dominated and has destroyed several great nations, of which the latest -example is the German Empire. The idea of conversion by the sword, -accepted with enthusiasm by the Arab nation, gave it for a time -tremendous energy, but contained no potency of permanent power or of -progress. The idea of immortality, or desire of continued existence -after death, seems to have dominated the minds of the ancient Egyptian -people; the idea of escape from the evils of this world, those who have -fully accepted Buddhism, like the Burmans[98]. The idea of caste as an -eternal and impassable barrier has largely determined the history of -India. - -All these are ideas which have proved ineffective to sustain national -vigour or to promote social evolution. It would not be strictly true to -say that the fall, or the unprogressive condition, of the peoples that -have entertained these ideas is the result of those ideas; because the -general acceptance of them proves that they were in harmony with the -type of mind of the people. Yet the formulation of the ideas by the -leading minds who impressed them on the peoples must have accentuated -those tendencies with which they harmonised; and in each case, if the -idea had never been formulated, or if others had been effectively -impressed on the mind of the people, the course of its history would -have been changed. Of ideas less adverse to national life take the idea -of ancestor worship, and the idea of personal loyalty to the ruler, -ideas which commonly go together and have played an immense part in the -life of some peoples, notably in Japan; they have served as effective -national bonds in periods of transition through which despotically ruled -populations have progressed to true nationhood. The idea of the divine -right of kings played for a time a similar rôle in Europe. - -A good example of the operation of an ideal in a modern nation is that -of the ideal of a great colonial empire in the French nation. No doubt, -hopes of economic advantages may have played some part in this case; but -the growth of the immense oversea empire of modern France, as well as -of the great extra-European conquests which France has made in the past -but has ceased to control, seems to have been due in the main to the -operation of this ideal in the national mind. France has no surplus -population, and no Frenchman desires to leave his beautiful France; -everyone regards himself as cruelly exiled if compelled to live for a -time in any of the oversea possessions; and most of these, notably the -Indo-Chinese Empire are very expensive, costing the nation far more in -administrative expenses than any profits derived from them, and -involving constant risks of international complications and war, as in -Morocco in recent years. Nevertheless, the ideal still holds sway and, -under its driving power, the oversea territories of France, especially -in Africa, have grown enormously. And this ideal has inevitably -incorporated itself in the organisation of the nation, in a colonial -office and a foreign legion, and all the administrative machinery -necessarily set up for securing the ends prescribed by the ideal. - -In modern times the most striking illustration of the power of ideas on -national life is afforded by the influence of the ideals of liberty and -equality. It was the effective teaching of these ideals of liberty and -equality, primarily by Rousseau, to a people prepared by circumstances -to receive them, which produced the French Revolution; and all through -the nineteenth century they have continued to determine great changes of -political and social organisation in many countries of Europe and in -America. - -In England the idea of liberty has long been current and long ago had -become incorporated and expressed in the national organisation; but its -application received a vast extension when in 1834 England insisted on -the liberation of all British-owned slaves and paid twenty million -sterling in compensation. That the idea still lives on among us, with -this extended application, seems to have been proved by the results of -recent elections which were influenced largely by the force of the -no-slavery cry in relation to coloured labour. It is an excellent -example of an established collective ideal against which reason is of no -avail. - -The ideal of liberty never entered the minds of the most advanced -peoples of antiquity; their most enlightened political thinkers could -not imagine a State which was not founded upon slavery. Yet it has -become collectively accepted by all the leading nations, and the -ordinary man has so entirely accepted it that he cannot be brought to -reason about it. Facts and arguments tending to show that the greater -part of the population of the world might be happier without liberty and -under some form of slavery cannot touch or enter his mind at all. - -The ideal of political equality is of still later growth, and is in a -sense derivative from that of liberty; it was in the main accepted as a -means to liberty, but has become an end in itself. It is moulding -national organisation everywhere; through its influence parliamentary -government and universal suffrage are becoming the almost universal -rule, and, through leading to their adoption, this ideal is in a fair -way to wreck certain of the less firmly organised nations, and possibly -our own also. - -But the ideal which, beyond all others, characterises the present age of -almost all the nations of the world is the ideal of progress. Hardly -anyone has any clear notion what he means by progress, or could -explicate the idea; but the sentiment is very strong, though the idea is -very vague. This idea also was unknown to the leading thinkers of -antiquity and is of recent growth; yet it is so almost universally -accepted, and it so permeates the mental atmosphere in every direction, -that it is hard for us to realise how new a thing in the history of the -world is the existence, and still more the effective dominance, of the -idea. It is perhaps in America that its rule is most absolute; there the -severest condemnation that can be passed by the average man upon any -people or institution is to say that it is fifty years behind the time. -The popular enthusiasm for flying-machines, which threatens to make life -almost unlivable, is one of the striking illustrations of the force of -this ideal. - -More recent still, and perhaps equally important, is the idea of the -solidarity of the human race and of the responsibility of each nation -towards the rest, especially towards the weaker and more backward -peoples. We no longer cheerfully and openly exterminate an inferior -people; and, when we do so, it is with some expressions of regret and -even of indignation. - -But this moral idea is still in process of finding acceptance and -illustrates well that process. It has been taught by a few superior -minds and none dares openly repudiate it; hence, it gains ground and is -now commonly accepted, verbally at least, and is just beginning to -affect national action. - -The four ideas, liberty, equality, progress, and human solidarity or -universal responsibility, seem to be the leading ideas of the present -era, the ideas which, in conjunction with national sentiments, are more -than any other, fashioning the future of the world. - -The last two illustrate exceptionally well the capacity of nations to be -moved by abstract ideas not directly related to the welfare of the -individuals whose actions they determine; they show once more how false -is the doctrine that national life is but the conflict of individual -wills striving after individual goods. They show that, through his life -in and mental interaction with organised society, man is raised morally -and intellectually high above the level he could individually achieve. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -NATIONS OF THE HIGHER TYPE - - -Let us consider now the type of nation which from our present point of -view is the most interesting, the type which approximates most nearly to -a solution of the problem of civilisation, to the reconciliation of -individuality with collectivity, to the synthesis of individualist and -collectivist ideals; that in which the rights and wills of individuals -are not forcibly subordinated to those of the State by the power of a -governing class, and in which the deliberative side of the national mind -is well developed and effective. - -Such are in a certain degree the French, but still more the British and -the American nations. In the two latter countries the rights of the -individual are made supreme over all other considerations, the welfare -of the whole is only to be advanced by measures which do not override -individual wills and rights; or, at least, the only power which is -admitted to have the right in any degree to override individual wills is -the will of the majority. In such a nation the greatest efforts are -concentrated on the perfection of the deliberative organisation, by -means of which the general mind may arrive at collective judgment and -choice of means and may express its will. A vast amount of time and -energy is devoted to this deliberative work; while the executive -organisation, by which its decisions have to be carried into effect, is -apt to be comparatively neglected and hence imperfect. - -These two complementary features of such states we see well exemplified -here and in America[99]; where the amount of time, money, and effort -spent upon the deliberative processes and the elaboration of the -organisation through which they are effected is enormously greater than -in other nations. And, in spite of the energy expended on deliberative -processes and on the elaboration of their organisation, the interests of -the nation as a whole are not at present forwarded in a manner at all -comparable with those of such a State as Germany. Nevertheless, such -national actions as we do achieve are far more truly the expression of -the national will; and, if the national mind is to be developed to a -high level, this vast expenditure of energy, which to some impatient -spirits seems wasteful and useless, must go on. - -As was said in a former chapter, such collective deliberation of modern -nations is only rendered possible by the great facilities of -communication we enjoy; telegraph, post, and railway, and especially the -press. The ancients saw truly enough that, with their limited means of -communication, the higher form of state-organisation must be restricted -to a small population of some thousands only--the City-State. - -It is important to note that not only do modern facilities of -communication render possible a truly collective mental life for the -large Nation-States of the present age; but that these modern conditions -actually carry with them certain great advantages, which tend to raise -the collective mental life of modern nations to a higher level than was -possible for the ancient City-State, even though its members were of -high average capacity and many of them of very great mental power, as in -Athens. - -The assembly of citizens in one place for national deliberation rendered -them much more susceptible to those less desirable peculiarities of -collective mental life which characterise simple crowds; particularly, -the excess of emotional excitement, increased suggestibility, and, -hence, the ease with which the whole mass could be swayed unduly by the -skilful orator. In the modern nation, on the other hand, the -transmission of news by the press secures a certain delay, and a lack of -synchronism, in its reception by different groups and individuals; and -it secures also a certain delay in the action and reaction of mind on -mind, which gives opportunity for individual deliberation. Also the -sympathetic action of the mass mind on the individual mind is in large -part indirect, rather than direct, representative rather than -perceptual, and therefore less overwhelming in its effects. These -conditions greatly temper the violence of the emotional reactions and -permit of a diversity of feeling and opinion; an opposed minority has -time to form itself and to express an opinion, and so may temper the -hasty and emotional reaction of the majority in a way that is impossible -in a general assembly. - -A further advantage of the large size of nations may arise from the fact -that actual decision as to choice of means for effecting national action -has to be achieved by means of representatives who come together in one -place. Representative government is not merely an inferior substitute -for government by general assembly; it is superior in many respects. If -each representative were a mere delegate, an average specimen of the -group he represents, chosen by lot and merely charged to express their -will, this feature would modify the crude collective mental processes in -one important respect only; namely, it would counteract to some extent -that weakening of individual responsibility which is characteristic of -collective mental action. But, in addition to this, internal -organisation, in the form of tradition and custom, comes in to modify -very greatly the collective process. - -We see such modifying influence very clearly in the election of the -English House of Commons and in the methods of its operations. Owing -partly to a natural tendency, partly to a fortunate tradition, the -people do not elect just any one of themselves to serve as a delegate or -average sample of the mass; but as a rule they choose, or try to choose, -some man who displays special capacity and special qualifications for -taking part in the national deliberations. In so far as they are -successful in this, their representatives are able men and men to whose -minds the social consciousness, the consciousness of the whole people, -of its needs and tendencies and aspirations, is more fully and clearly -present than to the average mind. They are also in the main men of more -than average public spirit. Hence it is not unknown that a purely -working class constituency, being offered liberal, conservative, and -labour candidates, instead of choosing the labour man, one of -themselves, gives him only a small fraction of the total votes. Then, -within the body of representatives, this process, by which greater -influence is given to the abler men, to those whose minds reflect most -fully the whole people, is carried further still. A small group of these -men exerts a predominant influence in all deliberations; and not only -are they in the main the best qualified (for they only attain their -leading positions by success in an intense and long continued -competition) but they are put in a position in which they can hardly -fail to feel a great responsibility resting upon them; and in which they -feel the full force of political traditions. The deliberative -organisation of the American nation illustrates, when compared with our -own, the importance of these traditions; for its lesser efficiency is -largely due to the absence of such traditions, and to the fact that -their system banishes from the House of Representatives its natural -leaders and those on whom responsibility falls most heavily. - -Lastly, the existence of two traditionally opposed parties ensures that -every important step shall be fully discussed. The traditional division -into two parties, which from one point of view seems so irrational, -nevertheless exerts very important and valuable influences, of which the -chief is that it prevents the assembly of legislators becoming a mere -psychological crowd easily swayed to a decision by collective emotion -and skilful suggestion; for each suggestion coming from the one party -acts by contra-suggestion upon the other and provokes an opposition that -necessitates discussion[100]. - -In these two ways, then;--first, through the culmination of national -deliberation among a selected group of representatives, among whom again -custom and tradition accord precedence and prestige to the natural -leaders, the most able and those in whose consciousness the nation, in -the past, present and future is most adequately reflected; secondly, by -means of the party system, which ensures vigorous criticism and full -discussion of all proposals, under a system of traditional conventions -evolved for the regulation of such discussions;--in these two ways the -principal vices of collective deliberation are corrected, and the formal -deliberations and decisions of the nation are raised to a higher plane -than the collective deliberations of any assembly of men lacking such -traditional organisation could possibly attain. The part played by -unwritten tradition in the working of the British constitution is of -course immense, as for example, the existence and enormous prestige of -the cabinet, and the tradition that a party coming into power must -respect the legislation of the party previously in power. Without this -last, representative government, or at any rate the party system, would -be impossible. The smooth working of the system depends entirely upon -the influence of these and similar traditions which exist only in the -minds of men. Or, take as another example, the tradition of absolute -impartiality on the part of the Speaker and of loyal acceptance of his -rulings by every member of the House; or the tradition which -distinguishes sharply between political and private relations, in virtue -of which the parties to a most bitter political strife may and very -generally do remain in perfectly friendly private relations. - -These and other such traditions, which secure the efficient working of -the organisation for national deliberation, all rest in turn upon a -traditional and tacit assumption--namely, the assumption that both -parties are working for the good of the nation as they conceive and -understand it, that both parties have this common end and differ only in -their judgment as to the means by which it can best be achieved. They -rest also on the traditional and tacit admission that one's own -judgment, and that of one's party, may be mistaken, and that in the long -run the legislation which any party can effect is an expression of the -organised national mind and is therefore to be respected. It is this -acquiescence in accomplished legislation in virtue of this tacit -assumption which gives to the decisions of Parliament the status, not -merely of the expression of the will of a bare majority, but of the -expression of the will of practically the whole nation. Underlying the -stability of the whole system, again, is the tradition, sedulously -fostered and observed by the best and leading minds, that the _raison -d'être_ and purpose of the representative parliament is to organise, and -to give the most complete possible expression to, the national mind and -will; and that no constitutional change or change of procedure is -justifiable unless it tends to the more complete realisation of these -objects. - -In virtue of these traditions our Parliament and Press constitute -undoubtedly the best means for effecting organisation of the national -mind in its deliberative aspect that has yet been evolved; and we should -remember this when we feel inclined to gird at the 'great talking shop,' -at the slowness of its procedure and at the logical absurdities of the -two-party system; and, above all, we should realize how valuable and -worthy of conservation are these scarcely formulated traditions, for -they are absolutely essential to its efficiency. It is just because the -efficiency of the deliberative organisation of a nation depends upon the -force of such traditions, that, though it is possible to take the system -of parliamentary representation and establish it by decree or plebiscite -in a nation which has hitherto had no such deliberative organisation, it -is not possible to make it work smoothly and efficiently amongst such a -people. Hence, although almost every civilised nation has done its best -to imitate the British system of parliamentary government, hardly any -one has made a success of it; and, in nearly all, it is in constant -danger of being superseded by some more primitive form of government--one -need only mention Mexico, Portugal, Russia, France, Austria-Hungary. In -all these countries, and even in America, there seems to be already a -not very remote possibility of the supersession of parliamentary -government by a dictatorship--a process which has actually occurred in -many of the municipal governments of America, and the fear of which has -constantly checked the smooth working of the parliamentary system in -France. - -As a single illustration of the way in which the conditions we have been -considering affect the collective acts of the nation, consider what -happened at the time of the Russian outrage in the North Sea during the -Russo-Japanese war. When a Russian fleet fired upon our fishing boats -doing considerable damage to them, the means of communication were -sufficiently developed among us to allow of the action and reaction of -all on each which produces the characteristic results of collective -mental action, the exaltation of emotion, the suggestibility, the sense -of irresponsible power; and, in the absence of the deliberative -organisation which, by concentrating influence and responsibility in the -hands of a few of the best men, controlled and modified this collective -action, we should have rushed upon the Russian fleet and probably have -brought on a general European war. The control and counteraction of this -kind of outburst of collective emotion and impulsive action is one of -the heaviest responsibilities of those to whom predominant influence is -accorded. - -It is only in virtue of the strong organisation of the national mind -resting upon these long traditions of parliamentary government, that at -such a time control of the popular emotion and impulse is possible. And -the weaker and less efficient is such traditional organisation, the more -does any such incident tend to provoke a collective manifestation which -approximates in its uncontrollable violence and unconsidered -impulsiveness to the behaviour of an unorganised crowd. Hence -governments, where the democratic principle is acknowledged but the -traditional organisation is less strong, are constantly in danger of -having their hands forced by some outburst of popular passion--as in -France. - -It is worth noting that, when Aristotle inveighed against democracy as -an evil form of government, the only form of democratic government he -had in mind was government by the voices of a mob gathered together in -one place and lacking all the safeguards which, as we have seen, render -our British national deliberations so much superior to those of a mere -crowd of persons of equally good average capacity and character. - -But it is not only in the formal deliberations of the nation that -internal organisation, resting on tradition, secures the predominance of -the influence of the best and ablest minds. The same is true of all -national thought and feeling. There exists in every great nation the -vague influence we call public opinion, which is the great upholder of -right and justice, which rewards virtue and condemns vice and -selfishness. Public opinion exists only in the minds of individuals (for -we have rejected, provisionally at least, the conception of a collective -consciousness); yet it is a product not of individual, but of -collective, mental life. And it has in any healthy nation far higher -standards of right and justice and tolerance than the majority of -individuals could form or maintain; that is to say, it is in these -respects far superior to an opinion which would be the mere resultant or -algebraic sum of the opinions of all the living individuals. In -reference to any particular matter its judgment is far superior to that -of the average of individuals, and superior probably in many cases to -that which even the best individuals could form for themselves. - -How does public opinion come to be superior to individual and to average -opinion? There seems to be something paradoxical in the statement. - -The fact is of the utmost importance; for public opinion is the ultimate -source of sanctions of all public acts, the highest court of appeal -before which every executive act performed in the name of the nation -must justify itself. If public opinion were merely the immediate -expression of the collective feelings and judgments of an unorganised -mass of men, its verdicts would be (as we have seen) inferior to those -of the average individuals, whereas, as a matter of fact, its -expressions are much superior to those of the average individuals. - -The influence of public opinion is especially clear and interesting in -its relations to law. In this country it is not made by law, but makes -law. Where law is imposed and long maintained by the authority of -despotic power, it will of course mould public opinion; but, in any -progressive highly organised nation, law and the lawyers are always one -or two or more generations behind public opinion. The most progressive -body of law formally embodies the public opinion of past generations -rather than of the generation living at the time. - -The fact of the superiority of public opinion is generally admitted and -various explanations are current, for the most part very vague and -incomplete. There is the mystical explanation embodied in the dictum -that the voice of the people is the voice of God. A rather less vague -explanation is that adopted by Mr Beattie Crozier[101] (among others). -It is said that the average man carries within him a germ of an ideal -of justice and right, and that he applies this to the criticism or -approval of the actions of other men; though he often fails to apply it -to his own actions, because, where his own interests are concerned, he -is apt to be the sport of purely egoistic impulses. - -But this explanation is only partially true. It represents the average -man as more hypocritical than he really is, and as falling farther below -the standards he acknowledges than he actually does fall. It leaves -unexplained the fact that he has this sentiment for an ideal of justice -and right; and it proceeds on a false assumption as to the nature of the -problem, in assuming that men judge the actions of other men by higher -standards than those which they apply to their own conduct; whereas this -is by no means generally true. - -Is it, then, that superior abilities, which enable a man to gain -prestige and to impress his ideas and sentiments upon his fellow men and -so to influence public opinion, are commonly combined with a natural -superiority of moral sentiment, with a love of right and a hatred of -injustice? There may be some degree of such natural correlation of -superior abilities with superior moral qualities, but the supposition -seems very doubtful; and certainly, if it exists, it is not sufficient -to account for the elevation of public opinion. We frequently see -consummate ability combined with most questionable moral sentiments, as -in Napoleon and many other historic personages. - -The true explanation is, I submit, to be found in the basal fact that -the moral sentiments are essentially altruistic, while the immoral and -non-moral sentiments are in the main self-regarding[102]. Hence, the -person who has great abilities but is lacking in moral sentiments and -altruism applies his abilities to secure his personal satisfactions and -aggrandisement; and, in so far as he aims at affecting the minds of -others, he tries only to secure their obedience to his commands and -suggestions, to inspire them with deference, admiration, fear and awe, -and to evoke an outward display of these feelings. But, as to the ideas -and sentiments of the people in general, save in so far as they affect -his own gratification, he cares nothing. Accordingly we never find great -abilities deliberately, consistently and directly applied to the -degradation of public opinion and morals, save occasionally in relation -to some particular end. And we find few or no great works of literature -and art deliberately aiming at such degradation. - -But with those persons in whom great abilities are naturally combined -with moral disposition the case is very different. The moral disposition -is essentially altruistic; it is concerned for the welfare of others, of -men in general. Hence such a man deliberately applies his abilities to -influence the minds of others. The exertion of such influence is for him -an end in itself. He seeks and finds his chief satisfaction in exerting -an influence, as wide and deep as possible, over the minds of men; not -merely in evoking fear or admiration of himself, but in inspiring in -them the same elevated sentiments and sympathies which he finds within -himself. - -For this reason such men as G. F. Watts, Carlyle and Ruskin exert a much -greater and more widespread and lasting influence over the minds of men -than do equally able men who are devoid of moral disposition; for the -former make the exertion of this influence their chief end, while the -others care not at all about the state of public opinion and the minds -of the mass. Still less does the non-moral man of great ability strive -with all his powers to make others act upon base motives like his own -and to degrade their sentiments; rather, he sees that he can better -accomplish his selfish ends if other men are unlike himself and are -governed by altruistic sentiments; and he sees also that he can better -attain his ends if he does lip-service to altruistic ideals; and he is, -therefore, apt to exert whatever direct influence he has over the -sentiments of men in the same direction as the moral leaders, praising -the same actions, upholding in words the same ideals. In this way the -men of great abilities, but of immoral or non-moral character, actually -aid the moral leaders to some extent in their work; whereas under no -conditions is the relation reversed; the moral leaders never praise or -acquiesce in bad actions, but always denounce them and use their -influence against them. - -It follows that, in a well organised nation, public opinion, which is -formed and maintained so largely by the influence of leading -personalities, will usually be more in conformity with the sentiments of -the best men than of the average man, will be above rather than below -private opinion. For, if the bad and the good men of exceptional powers -were equal in numbers and capacity, the sum of their influences tending -directly to exalt public opinion would be enormously greater than the -sum of their influences tending to degrade it; and, as a matter of fact, -the influence for good of a few altruistic leaders is able to outweigh -the degrading influences of a much larger number of purely selfish men -of equally great capacities, and is able to maintain a high standard of -public opinion. - -We have distinguished a formal and an informal organisation of the -national deliberative processes, the latter expressing itself as public -opinion. These two organisations co-exist and are, of course, not -altogether independent of one another; yet they may be to a considerable -extent independent; though the more intimate the functional relations -and the greater the harmony between them, the healthier will be the -national life. - -We may note in passing an interesting difference in respect to -organisation of the national mind between the English and the American -peoples, a difference which illustrates this relative independence of -the formal and informal organisations. - -In England both the formal and informal organisations have achieved a -pretty good level; in both cases the best minds are enabled to exert and -have long exerted a dominant influence; and the interaction between the -two organisations is very intimate. But in America, while the informal -organisation expressed in public opinion seems to be very highly -developed, the formal organisation is much inferior; it has not yet such -traditions as give the greatest influence to the best minds and embody -the effects of their influence. And the better Americans tend to value -lightly the formal organisation, to take no part in the working of it, -deliberately to ignore it, and to rely rather upon public opinion to -repress any evils when they are in danger of reaching an intolerable -development. - -Both in the formal organisation of the national mind, which is the -parliamentary or other national assembly, and in the informal -organisation which is public opinion, we see, then, that (in the nation -of higher civilisation at least) organisation results in a raising of -the collective mental process above the level of the average minds, -because it gives a predominant influence to the best minds who form and -maintain the traditions, especially the moral traditions; and these -press upon the minds of all members of the community from their earliest -years, moulding them more or less into conformity with themselves, -fostering the better, repressing the purely egoistic, tendencies. - -And the ideal organisation after which we ought to strive, is that which -would give the greatest possible influence of this sort to the best -minds, an influence which consists not in merely organising and -directing the energies of the people in the manner most effective for -material or even scientific progress, as in modern Germany; but one -which, by moulding the sentiments and guiding the reasoning of the -people in all matters, public and private alike, secures their consent -and agreement and the co-operation of their wills in all affairs of -national importance. - -When such organisation is in any degree attained and a more or less -consistent system of national traditions is embodied in the political, -religious, literary, and scientific culture, which moulds in some degree -the minds of all men, the national mind clearly becomes, as we said in -an earlier chapter, a system of interacting mental forces which are not -merely tendencies of the living members of the nation, but are also, in -an even greater degree, the ideas and tendencies of the dead; and we see -also that in such a people the national consciousness is most truly -embodied, not in the minds of the average men, but in the minds of the -best men of the time. - -The term 'public opinion' is sometimes, perhaps generally, used in a -looser and wider sense than the meaning implied in the foregoing pages. -It is used in the looser sense by President Lowell in his _Public -Opinion and Popular Government_. By 'public opinion' he seems to mean -simply the algebraic sum or balance of individual opinions; he writes -"the opinion of the whole people is only the collected opinions of all -the persons therein[103]." In accordance with this view, he regards -representative institutions as merely one means by which this sum of -opinions may be collected and recorded. And he seems to be prepared to -regard the 'referendum' or the 'initiative' in any of their forms, or -other methods of direct legislation, as equally good methods, if only -all individuals would take the trouble to register their votes upon -every question proposed to them. He is aware, of course, that this can -hardly be expected of persons who have other interests and occupations -than the purely political, and that the direct methods are therefore -impracticable as general methods of legislation. If it were true that -representative institutions do and should merely collect and record the -individual opinions of all members of the public, then it is obvious -that each representative should be merely a delegate sent to record the -votes of the majority of his constituents. Whereas, if representative -institutions should, and in various degrees do, constitute the formal -deliberative organisation of the national mind, through which national -deliberation and judgment are raised to a higher plane than that of a -mere crowd, it follows that the representative should exert his own -powers of reasoning and judgment, aided by his special knowledge and -equipment, by the special sources of information that he enjoys, in the -light of the discussions in which he takes part, and influenced by all -those political traditions whose force he experiences in exceptional -fulness by reason of his priviledged position. President Lowell, in -discussing the functions of the representative, does not decide in -favour of the former view, as consistency should perhaps lead him to do; -thereby showing that he is not wholly committed to the individualist -view. He discusses the question whether the member of Parliament or -Congress should regard himself as representing the interests of his -constituents alone, or as concerned primarily and chiefly with the -interests of the whole people; and he rightly inclines to the latter -view. This is not quite the same distinction as that which is insisted -upon in these pages. Even if each representative were concerned only for -the welfare of the nation as a whole, yet so long as he regarded it as -his sole function to vote as he believes the majority of the citizens -would vote in any process of direct legislation, he would fall short of -the highest duty which is laid upon him by his position--namely, not -merely that of recording the opinion of the majority, but that of taking -part in the organised deliberative activities of the national mind by -which it arrives at judgments and decisions of a higher order than any -purely individual, or algebraic sum of individual, judgments and -decisions[104]. - -Public opinion, in the sense in which I have used the words in this -chapter (which seems to me the only proper use of them) is, then, not a -mere sum of individual opinions upon any particular question; it is -rather the expression of that tone or attitude of mind which prevails -throughout the nation and owes its quality far more to the influence of -the dead than of the living, being the expression of the moral -sentiments that are firmly and traditionally established in the mind of -the people, and established more effectively and in more refined forms -in the minds of the leaders of public opinion than in the average -citizen. This tone of the national mind enables it to arrive at just -judgments on questions of right and wrong, of duty and honour and public -desert; though it may have little bearing upon such practical questions -as bimetallism, tariff reform, or railway legislation. The current use -of the term, in this country at least, does, I think, recognise that -public opinion properly applies only to the sphere of moral judgments -and can and should have no bearing upon the practical details of -legislation. Public opinion is, both in its development and in its -operations, essentially collective; it is essentially the work of the -group mind. Its accepted standards of value are slowly built up under -the influence of the moral leaders of past ages; and, in the application -of those standards to any particular question, the influence of the -moral leaders of the time makes itself felt. I have kept in mind in the -foregoing pages the public opinion of the nation; but every community, -every association, every enduring group has its own public opinion, -which, though it is influenced by, and indeed is, as it were, a branch -of, the main stem of national public opinion and is therefore of the -same fibre and texture, has nevertheless its own peculiar tone and -quality, especially in regard to the moral questions with which each -group is specially concerned. - - - - -PART III - -THE DEVELOPMENT OF NATIONAL MIND AND CHARACTER - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -INTRODUCTORY - - -In the first Part of this book we have reviewed the most general -principles of collective mental life, beginning with the unorganised -crowd as affording the simplest example, considering then an army as the -simplest example of the profound modifications of collective mental life -effected by organisation of the group. In the second Part we passed on -to apply these principles to the understanding of the mind of the nation -as the most important, complex, and interesting of all types of the -group mind. - -In the third Part I take up the consideration in a general way of the -processes by which national mind and character are gradually built up -and shaped in the long course of ages. For, just as we cannot understand -individual minds, their peculiarities and differences, without studying -their development, so we cannot hope to understand national mind and -character and the peculiarities and differences of nations, without -studying the slow processes through which they have been built up in the -course of centuries. - -In an earlier chapter, in connexion with the question of the importance -of homogeneity of mental qualities as a condition of the existence of -the national mind, I argued that race has really considerable influence -in moulding the type of national mind. I recognized that differences of -innate qualities between races, at any rate between allied subraces, are -not great, and that they can be, and generally are, almost completely -over-ridden and obscured in each individual by the moulding power of the -social environment in which he grows up; but I urged that these racial -qualities are very persistent, and that they exert a slight but constant -pressure or bias upon the development of all that constitutes social -environment, upon the forms of institutions, customs, traditions, and -beliefs of every kind, so that the effect of such slight but constant -bias accumulates from generation to generation, and in the long run -exerts an immense influence. - -One way of treating the part played by the racial mental qualities in -the development of the national mind would be to attempt to define the -racial or innate peculiarities of the peoples existing at the present -time, and to assume that these peculiarities were produced in the remote -past, before the formation of nations began, and that they have -persisted unchanged throughout the period of the development of nations. -Something of this sort was proposed by Walter Bagehot in his _Physics -and Politics_. He distinguished in the development of peoples two great -periods--on the one hand the race-making period, which roughly -corresponds to the whole prehistoric period, and on the other hand the -nation-making period, which roughly corresponds to the historic period. -This distinction has undoubtedly a certain validity. - -It seems probable that man was evolved from his prehuman ancestry as a -single stock, probably a stock somewhat widely distributed in the heart -of the Eurasian continent, or possibly in Africa according to the recent -view of some authors, or in the area which is now the Indian Ocean. If -this be true, it follows that the differentiation of the mental and -physical qualities of the principal human races, the differentiation of -the white and black and yellow and brown races, as well as of the chief -subraces, such as the Semitic, the races of Europe--the _Homo Europaeus_, -_Alpinus_ and _Mediterraneus_--was the work of the immensely prolonged -prehistoric period. For these races and subraces, as we now know them, -seem to have been in existence and to have had recognisably and -substantially the same leading qualities, both mental and physical, that -they now have, before the beginning of the historic period. - -The racial differentiation during the prehistoric period must have been -much greater than during the historic period; and this was not only -because the former period was immensely longer, but also because, in all -probability, the rate of racial change has been on the whole slower in -the historic period. - -The differentiation of racial types in the prehistoric period must have -been in the main the work of differences of physical environment, -operating directly by way of selection, by way of the adaptation of each -race to its environment through the extermination of the strains least -suited to exist under those physical conditions. But this process, this -direct moulding of racial types by physical environment, must have been -well nigh arrested as soon as nations began to form. For the formation -of nations implies the beginning of civilisation; and civilisation very -largely consists in the capacity of a people to subdue their physical -environment, or at least to adapt the physical environment to men's -needs to a degree that renders them far less the sport of it than was -primitive man; it consists, in short, in replacing man's natural -environment by an artificial environment largely of his own choice and -creation. - -In a second and perhaps even more important way, the formation of -nations with the development of civilisation modified and weakened the -moulding influence of the physical environment; namely, it introduced -social co-operation in an ever increasing degree, so that the perpetual -struggle of individuals and of small family groups with one another and -with nature was replaced by a co-operative struggle of large communities -against the physical environment and with one another. And in this -process those members of each community who, by reason of weakness, -general incapacity, or other peculiarity, would have been liable to be -eliminated under primitive conditions became shielded in an ever -increasing degree by the powers of the stronger and more capable against -the selective power of nature and against individual human forces. And, -although within the community the rivalry of individuals and families -still went on, it was no longer so much a direct struggle for existence, -but rather became more and more a struggle for position in the social -scale; and failure in the struggle no longer necessarily meant death, or -even incapacity to leave an average number of descendants. That is to -say, primitive man's struggle for existence against the forces of nature -and against his fellow men, which made for racial evolution and -differentiation through survival of those fittest to cope with various -environments, tended to be replaced by a struggle which no longer made -for racial evolution towards a higher type, and which may even have made -for race-deterioration, at the same time that civilisation and national -organisation continued to progress. - -We may, then, recognise a certain truth in Bagehot's distinction of two -great periods, the race-making and the nation-making periods. -Nevertheless, it would not be satisfactory to follow the course -suggested above and simply assume certain racial characters as given -fixed data without further consideration. For, firstly, it is -interesting and perhaps not altogether unprofitable to indulge in -speculations on the race-making processes of the prehistoric period. -Secondly, although it seems likely that racial changes have been in the -main slower and on the whole relatively slight in the historic period, -yet they have not been altogether lacking; and, in proportion to their -magnitude, such changes as have occurred have been of great importance -for national life; and changes of this kind are still playing their part -in shaping the destinies of nations. Possible racial changes of mental -qualities must therefore be considered, when we seek to give a general -account of the conditions of the development of nations. - -On the other hand, we must reject root and branch the crude idea, which -has a certain popular currency, that the development of civilisation and -of nations implies a parallel evolution of individual minds. That idea -we have already touched upon and rejected in a previous chapter, where -we arrived at the conclusion that there is no reason to suppose the -present civilised peoples to be on the whole innately superior to their -barbaric ancestors. - -If we use the word 'tradition' in the widest possible sense to denote -all the intellectual and moral gains of past generations, in so far as -they are not innate but are handed on from one generation to another by -the personal intercourse of the younger with the older generation, and -if we allow the notion of tradition to include all the institutions and -customs that are passed on from generation to generation, then we may -class all the changes of a people that constitute the evolution of a -national character under the two heads: _evolution of innate qualities_ -and _evolution of traditions_. Using the word 'tradition' in the wide -sense just now indicated, the traditions of a people may be said to -include the recognised social organisation of the whole people into -classes, castes, clans, phratries, or groups of any kind, whose -relations to one another and whose place in the national system are -determined by law, custom and conventions of various kinds. This part of -the total tradition is relatively independent of the rest, and we may -usefully distinguish the development of such social organisation as -social evolution--giving to the term this restricted and definite -meaning--and we may set it alongside the other two conceptions as of -co-ordinate value. - -If we thus set apart for consideration under a distinct head the -evolution of social organisation, the rest of the body of national -traditions may be said to constitute the civilisation of a people. For -the civilisation of a people at any time is essentially the sum of the -moral and intellectual traditions that are living and operative among -them at that particular time. We are apt in a loose way to consider the -civilisation of a people to consist in its material evidences; but it is -only in so far as these material evidences, the buildings, industries, -arts, products, machinery, and so forth, are the expression and outcome -of its mental state that they are in any degree a measure of its -civilisation. We may realize this most clearly by considering the case -of a people on which the material products of civilisation have been -impressed from without. Thus the peasants of India live amongst, and -make use of, and benefit materially by, the railways and irrigation -works created by their British rulers, and are protected from invasion -and from internal anarchy by the British military organisation and -equipment; and they play a subordinate though essential part in the -creation and maintenance of all these material evidences of -civilisation. But these material evidences are not the expression of the -mental state of the peoples of India, and form no true part of their -civilisation; and, in fact, they affect their civilisation astonishingly -little; although if these products of a higher civilisation should be -maintained for a long period of time they would, no doubt, produce -changes of their civilisation, probably tending in some degree to -assimilate their mental state to that of Western Europe. - -We may, then, with advantage distinguish between the social organisation -and the civilisation of a people. In doing so we are of course making an -effort of abstraction, which, though it results in an artificial -separation of things intimately related, is nevertheless useful and -therefore justifiable. In a similar way the progress of civilisation may -be distinguished from social evolution. Social evolution is profoundly -affected by the progress of civilisation, and in turn reacts powerfully -upon it; for any given social organisation may greatly favour or -obstruct the further progress of civilisation. There could have been no -considerable advance of civilisation without the evolution of some -social organisation; but that the two things are distinct is clear, when -we reflect that there may be a very complex social organisation, -implying a long course of social evolution, among a people that has -hardly the rudiments of civilisation. Extreme instances of social -organisation in the absence of civilisation are afforded by some animal -societies--for example, societies of ants, bees, and wasps. Among -peoples, the native tribes of Australia illustrate the fact most -forcibly. They are at the very bottom of the scale of civilisation; yet -it has been discovered that they have a complex and well-defined social -organisation, which can only have been achieved by a long course of -social evolution. These people are divided into totem clans, which -clans are grouped in phratries, each individual being born, according to -well recognised rules, into a clan of which he remains a life-long -member; and his membership in the clan and phratry involves certain -well-defined rights and obligations, and well-defined relations to other -persons, especially as regards marriage; and these rights, obligations -and relations are recognised and rigidly maintained throughout immense -areas. - -On the other hand, although no people has attained any considerable -degree of civilisation without considerable social organisation, -nevertheless we can at least imagine a people continuing to enjoy a high -civilisation, practising and enjoying much of the arts, sciences, -philosophy, and literature, which we regard as the essentials of -civilisation, yet retaining a bare minimum of social organisation. And -this state of affairs is not only conceivable, but is held up as a -practicable ideal by philosophical anarchists such as Tolstoi and -Kropotkin; and it is, I think, true to say that the American nation -presents an approximation to this condition. - -Again, a very high state of civilisation may co-exist with a relatively -primitive social organisation. Thus the civilisation of Athens in the -classical age was equal to, or even superior to, our own in many -respects; yet the social organisation was very much less highly evolved. -It had hardly emerged from the barbaric patriarchal condition, and had -at its foundation a cruel system of slavery[105]; and it had also -another great point of inferiority--namely, the very restricted number of -persons included in the social system. These deficiencies, this -rudimentary character, of its social organisation was the principal -cause of the instability and brief endurance of that brilliant -civilisation. - -We have so far distinguished three principal factors or groups of -factors in the evolution of national mind and character: (1) Evolution -of innate or racial qualities: (2) Development of civilisation: (3) -Social evolution, or the development of social organisation. - -Now the first two of these we may with advantage divide under two -parallel heads, the heads of intellectual and moral development. No -doubt, the intellectual and the moral endowment of a people continually -react on each other; and many of the manifestations of the national mind -are jointly determined by the intelligence and the morality of a people; -especially perhaps is this true of their religion and their art. -Nevertheless, it is clear that we can distinguish pretty sharply -between the intellectual and the moral traditions of a people; and that -these may vary independently of one another to a great extent. A rich -and full intellectual tradition may go with a moral tradition of very -low level, as in the Italian civilisation of the renascence; and a very -high moral tradition with a relative poverty of the intellectual, as in -the early days of the puritan settlements of New England. - -The same distinction between the intellectual and the moral level is -harder to draw in the case of the racial qualities of a people, but it -undoubtedly exists and is valid in principle, no matter how difficult in -practice to deal with. - -We have, then, to distinguish five classes of factors, five heads under -which all the factors which determine the evolution of national -character may be distributed. They are - - (1) Innate moral disposition } racial qualities. - (2) Innate intellectual capacities } - (3) Moral tradition } national civilisation. - (4) Intellectual tradition } - (5) Social organisation. - -Every nation that has advanced from a low level to a higher level of -national life has done so in virtue of development or progress in one or -more of these respects. And a principal part of our task, in considering -the evolution of national mind and character, is to assign to each of -these its due importance and its proper place in the whole complex -development. - -The distinction between the racial and the traditional level of a people -is too often ignored; chiefly, perhaps, for the reason that it has -usually been assumed that whatever is traditional becomes innate and -racial through use. Since in recent years it has been shown that this -assumption is very questionable, a number of authors have recognised the -importance of the distinction as regards the intellectual qualities of a -people; but, as regards the moral qualities, the distinction is still -very generally overlooked. - -The neglect of these distinctions between the innate and the traditional -has in great measure vitiated much of the keen dispute that has been -waged over the question whether the progress of civilisation depends -primarily on intellectual or on moral advance. For example, T. H. Buckle -and Benjamin Kidd agreed in recognising clearly the distinction between -the innate and the traditional intellectual status of a people; and they -agreed in maintaining that we have no reason to believe that in the -historic period any people has made any considerable advance in innate -intellectual capacity; and that any such advance, if there has been any, -has not been a principal factor in the progress of civilisation. But -they differed extremely in that Buckle maintained that the primary cause -of all progress of national life is the improvement of its intellectual -tradition, that is, increase in the quantity and the worth of its stock -of knowledge and accepted beliefs, and improvements in methods of -intellectual operation; and he held that improvements of morals and of -social organisation have been secondary results of these intellectual -gains. Kidd, on the other hand[106], maintained that the progress of -European civilisation has been primarily due to an improvement of the -morality of peoples; that this has led to improvement of social -organisation; and that this in turn has been the essential condition of -the progress of the intellectual tradition, because it has secured a -stable social environment, a security of life, a free field for the -exercise of intellectual powers; in the absence of which conditions the -intellectual powers of a nation cannot effectively organise themselves -and apply themselves to the understanding of man and nature, or to -securing the traditional perpetuation of the gains which they may -sporadically achieve. We have to examine these views and try to -determine what truth they contain, and to show that they are not wholly -opposed but can in some measure be combined. - -I propose to make first a very brief critical survey of some of the most -notable attempts that have been made to account for racial qualities, -and I shall try to supplement and harmonise these as far as possible. We -may with advantage consider at the outset the race-making period, and -afterwards go on to consider changes of racial qualities in the historic -period. This Part of the book is necessarily somewhat speculative, but -its interest and importance for our main topic may justify its -inclusion. - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -THE RACE-MAKING PERIOD - - -Let us now see what can be said about the process of racial -differentiation which, as we saw in the foregoing chapter, was in its -main features accomplished in the prehistoric or race-making period. We -cannot hope to reach many positive conclusions, but rather merely to -discuss certain possibilities and probabilities in regard to the main -factors of the differentiation of racial mental types. - -I would point out at once that the answer to be given to the -question--Are acquired qualities transmitted? Are the effects of use -inherited? is all important for our topic. I do not propose to discuss -that difficult question now. I will merely say that the present state of -biological science makes it seem doubtful whether such inheritance takes -place, and that, although the question remains open, we are not -justified in assuming an affirmative answer; that, therefore, we must -not be satisfied with any explanation of racial and national -characteristics based upon this assumption; and in the following -discussion I shall provisionally assume the truth of the Neo-Darwinian -principle that acquired modifications are not transmitted. - -Assuming, as we must, that all peoples are descended from some one -original stock, the problem is--Can anything be said of the conditions -which have determined the differentiation of races of different mental -constitutions, of the development of racial qualities which, having -become relatively fixed, have led to the evolution of different types of -national organisation and culture? And especially we have to consider -the conditions which have produced, and may still produce in the future, -the qualities that make for the progress of nations. - -We must suppose a certain social organisation to have obtained among -that primitive human stock from which all races have been evolved, -probably an organisation in small groups based on the family under the -rule and leadership of a patriarch. - -It is possible that considerable divergences of social organisation may -have taken place, without any advance towards civilisation; such -divergences of social organisation must have tended to divert the -course of mental evolution along various lines; but they must themselves -have had their causes; they cannot in themselves be the ultimate causes -of divergence of racial mental types. - -Such ultimate causes of the differentiation of mental qualities must -have been of two orders only, so far as I can see: (1) differences of -physical environment; (2) spontaneous variations in different directions -of the innate mental qualities of individuals, especially of the more -gifted and energetic individuals of each people. - -In the mental evolution of animals these two factors are not -distinguishable. We may say that the main and perhaps the sole condition -of their evolution is the selection by the physical environment of -spontaneous favourable variations and mutations of innate mental -qualities; if we include under the term physical environment of the -species all the other animal and vegetable species of its habitat. For -it is only by its selective influence upon individual variations that -physical environment can determine differentiation of races. - -But with man the case is different; spontaneous variation not only -provides the new qualities which, by determining the survival of the -individual in his struggle for existence with the physical environment, -secure their own perpetuation by transmission to the after coming -generations. The new qualities determine mental evolution in another -manner, by a mode of operation which is almost completely absent in -animal evolution; namely, the spontaneous variations create a social -environment which profoundly modifies the influence of the physical -environment, and itself becomes a principal factor in the determination -of the trend of racial evolution. - -Man is distinguished from the animals above all things by his power of -learning. Whereas the behaviour of animals, even of the higher ones, -consists almost entirely of purely instinctive actions, innate modes of -response to a limited number of situations; man has an indefinitely -great capacity for acquiring new modes of response, and so of adapting -himself in new and more complex ways to an almost indefinite variety of -situations. And his new mental acquisitions are not made only by the -slow process of adaptation in the light of his own individual experience -of the consequences of behaviour of this and that kind; as are most of -the few acquisitions of the animals. By far the greater part of the -mental stock-in-trade by which his behaviour is guided is acquired from -his fellow men; it represents the accumulated experience of all the -foregoing generations of his race and nation. Man's life in society, -together with the great plasticity of his mind, its great capacity for -new adaptations, secures him this enormous advantage; the two things are -necessarily correlated. Without the plasticity of mind, his life in -society would benefit him relatively little. Many animals that lead a -social life in large herds or flocks are not superior, but rather -inferior, in mental power to animals that lead a more solitary life; and -indeed this seems to be generally true, as we see on comparing generally -the herbivorous gregarious animals with the solitary carnivores that -prey upon them. The social life of such animals, rendering individual -intelligence less necessary for protection and escape from danger, tends -actually against mental development. - -On the other hand, man's great plastic brain would be of comparatively -little use to him if he lived a solitary unsocial life. His great brain -is there to enable him to assimilate and make use of the accumulated -experience, the sum of knowledge and morality, which is traditional in -the society into which he is born a member; that is to say, the -development of social life, which depended so much upon language and for -the forwarding of which language came into existence, must have gone -hand in hand with the development of the great brain, which enables full -advantage to be secured from social co-operation and which, especially, -renders possible the accumulation of knowledge, belief, and traditional -sentiment. - -Now this traditional stock of knowledge and morality has been very -slowly accumulated, bit by bit; and every bit, every least new addition -to it, has been a difficult acquisition, due in the first instance to -some spontaneous variation of some individual's mental structure from -the ancestral type of mental structure. That is to say, throughout the -evolution of civilisation, progress of every kind, increase of knowledge -or improvement of morality, has been due to the birth of more or less -exceptional individuals, individuals varying ever so slightly from the -ancestral type and capable, owing to this variation, of making some new -and original adaptation of action, or of perceiving some previously -undiscovered relation between things. - -These new acquisitions, first made by individuals, are, if true or -useful, sooner or later imitated or accepted by the society of which the -original-minded individual is a member, and then, becoming incorporated -in the traditional stock of knowledge and morality, are thereby placed -at the service of all members of that society. - -Thus favourable spontaneous variations do not, as with the animals, -render possible mental evolution merely by conducing to the survival -of, and the perpetuation of the qualities of, those individuals in whom -the variations occur. They may do this, or they may not; but, in -addition and more importantly, they contribute to the stock of -traditional knowledge and morality, and so raise the social group as a -whole in the scale of civilisation; they render it more capable of -successfully contending against other groups and against the adverse -influence of the physical environment; and they promote the solidarity -of the group by adding to its stock of common tradition; thus the -acquisitions of each member benefit the group as a whole and all its -members, quite apart from any philanthropic purpose or intention of -producing such a result. - -The achievement of this unconscious undesigned solidarity of human -societies is one of two great steps in the evolution of the human race -by which the process is rendered very different from, and is raised to a -higher plane than, the mental evolution of the animal world. The second -and still more important step is one which is only just beginning to be -achieved in the present age; I shall have to touch on it in a later -chapter. - -The original or primary divergence of mental type between any two -peoples must, then, have been due to these fundamental causes--namely, -differences of physical environment and spontaneous variations of mental -structure, the latter adding to the traditional stock of knowledge and -belief, of moral precepts and sentiments. - -Intellectual or moral divergence produced by these two primary causes -would tend to determine the course of social evolution along different -lines and so to produce different types of social organisation. And -different social organisations thus produced would then react upon the -moral and intellectual life of the people to produce further divergence; -for example, one type of social organisation determined by physical -environment, say a well developed patriarchal system, may have made for -progress of intellect and morals; another, say a matriarchal -organisation, or one based on communal marriage, may have tended to -produce stagnation. - -As social evolution proceeded and brought about more extensive and more -complex forms of social organisation, which included, within any one -society or group, larger numbers of individuals in more effective forms -of association, social organisation must have assumed a constantly -increasing importance as a condition of mental evolution relatively to -all other factors, especially as compared with the influence of physical -environment; until, in the complex societies of the present time, it has -an altogether predominant importance. This truth is concisely stated in -the old dictum that "in the infancy of nations men shape the State; in -their maturity the State shapes the men." Accordingly, in considering -the mental evolution of peoples we must never lose sight of the -influence of social organisation. It follows that the conditions of the -mental evolution of man are immensely more complex than those of the -mental evolution of animals. - -We must recognise not only the selection, through survival in the -struggle for existence, of new mental qualities arising as spontaneous -variations of individual mental structure. This, which is the only, or -almost the only, process at work in the mental evolution of animals, is -immensely complicated and overshadowed in importance by two processes. -The first is the accumulation of knowledge and morality in traditional -forms. The traditional accumulation, which so far outweighs the mental -equipment possible to any individual isolated from an old society, not -only constitutes in itself a most important evolutionary product, but it -modifies profoundly the conditions of evolution of the individual innate -qualities of mind; for example, the greater and more valuable the stock -of traditional knowledge and morality becomes, the more does fitness to -survive consist in the capacity to assimilate this knowledge and to -conform to these higher moral precepts, the less does it consist in the -purely individualistic qualities, such as quickness of eye and ear, -fleetness of foot, or strength and skill of hand. Secondly, the -processes of natural selection are complicated by the social evolution, -which tends progressively to abolish the struggle for existence between -individuals, and to replace it by a struggle between groups; in which -struggle success is determined not only by the qualities of individuals, -but also very largely by the social organisation and by the traditional -knowledge and morality of the groups. - -Each variety of the human species, each race considered as a succession -of individuals having certain innate mental qualities, has been evolved, -then, not merely under the influence of the physical environment, like -the animal species, but also and to an ever increasing extent under the -influence of the social environment. The social environment we regard as -consisting of two parts; namely, the social organisation and the body of -social tradition; for these, though interdependent and constantly -interacting, may yet with advantage be kept apart in thought. We must, -then, bear constantly in mind the fact that man creates for himself an -environment which becomes ever more complex and influential, -overshadowing more and more in importance the physical environment. - -Here I would revert to some points of the analogy, drawn in Chapter X, -between the mind of a nation and that of an individual. The mind of an -individual human being develops by accumulating the results of his -experience; and so does that of a people. In this respect the analogy -holds good. But the development possible to an individual is strictly -limited in two ways. First, by the short duration of the material basis -of his mental life; secondly by the extent of his innate capacities. -Neither of these limitations applies to the national mind. Its material -basis is in principle immortal, because its individual components may be -incessantly renewed; and its development has no limit set to it by its -innate capacities, because these may be indefinitely extended and -improved. In these respects the national mind resembles the species -rather than the individual. - -The development of the national mind, and of the minds of those who -share in the mental life of the nation, thus combines the methods and -advantages of the development of individuals and of species, methods -which are essentially different. The result is that the mental -development of man, since his social life began, has been radically -different from that of the animals; it has been a social process; it has -been the evolution of peoples rather than of individuals. The evolution -of man as an individual has been wholly subordinated to that of peoples; -and it is incapable of being understood or profitably considered apart -from the development of the group mind. - -Assuming, as we must, that all the races of men are derived from a -common stock, it is obvious, I think, that the first differentiation of -racial types was determined almost exclusively by differences of -physical environment, and that the other conditions only very slowly -developed and did not assume their predominant importance until the time -which may be roughly defined as the beginning of the historic or -nation-making period. - -Physical environment affects the mental qualities of a people in three -ways: firstly, it directly influences the minds of each generation; -secondly, it moulds the mental constitution by natural selection, -adapting the race to itself; thirdly, it exerts indirect influence by -determining the occupations and modes of life and, through these, the -social organisation of a people. We may consider these three modes of -influence in turn. - -There has been much speculation on the direct influence of the physical -environment in moulding the mental type of a people, but little or -nothing can be said to be established. - -There is a fair concensus of opinion to the effect that what we may -call climate exerts an important influence. In climate the two factors -recognised as of chief importance are temperature and moisture. High -temperature combined with moisture certainly tends to depress the vital -activity of Europeans and to render them indolent, indisposed to -exertion of any kind. On the other hand, high temperature combined with -dryness of the atmosphere seems to have the effect of rendering men but -little disposed to continuous activity, and yet capable of great -efforts; it tends to produce a violent spasmodic activity. A cold -climate seems to dispose towards sustained activity and, when combined -with much moisture, to a certain slowness. - -These effects, which we ourselves experience and which we see produced -upon other individuals on passing from one climate to another, we seem -to see impressed upon many of the races which have long been subjected -to these climates; for example, the slow and lazy Malays have long -occupied the hottest moistest region of the earth. The Arabs and the -fiery Sikhs may be held to illustrate the effect of dry heat. The -Englishman and the Dutchman seem to show the effects of a moist cool -climate, a certain sluggishness embodied with great energy and -perseverance. - -In these and other cases, in which the innate temperament of a people -corresponds to the effects directly induced by their climate, it seems -natural to suppose that the innate temperament has been produced by the -transmission and accumulation from generation to generation of the -direct effects of the climate. The assumption is so natural that it has -been made by almost every writer who has dealt with the question. And -these instances of conformity of the temperament of peoples to the -direct effects of climate are sometimes offered as being among the most -striking evidences of the reality of hereditary transmission of acquired -qualities; and the argument is reinforced by instances of what seem to -be similar results produced by climate on physical types. Thus, it is -said that in North America a race characterised by a new specific -combination of mental and physical qualities is being rapidly formed; -and it seems to be well established that long slender hands are among -these features; for in Paris a specially long slender glove is made -every year in large quantities for the American market. Again, we see -apparently a change of physical type in the white inhabitants of -Australia. They seem to be becoming taller and more slender -'cornstalks'; and this is commonly regarded as the direct effect of -climate. - -Now, that a new race or subrace with a specific combination of qualities -should be forming in America is certainly to be expected from the fact -that the intimate blending of a number of European stocks has been going -on for some generations. But what gives special support to the -assumption that these new qualities are the direct effects of climate is -that these qualities, the physical at least, seem to be approximations -to the type of the Red Indians, the aboriginal inhabitants. And, it is -said, this approximation of type can only be due to hereditary -accumulation of the direct effects of the climate on individuals. - -Another way in which climate has been held to modify racial mental -qualities by direct action is through the senses, especially the eye. M. -Boutmy, in his book on the English people makes great play with this -principle[107]. He points out that the thick hazy state of the air, so -common in our islands, renders vague and dull all outlines and colours, -so that the eye does not receive that wealth of well-defined hues and -forms which give so great a charm to some more sunny lands, such as the -Mediterranean coast lands. Hence, he says, the senses become or remain -relatively dull, and the sense-perceptions slow and relatively -indiscriminating. Such relative deficiency of aesthetic variety and -richness in the appearance of the outer world produces secondarily a -further and deeper modification of mental type. In the lands where -nature surrounds man with an endless variety of rich and pleasing -scenes, he can find sufficient satisfaction in mere contemplation of the -outer world; and, when he takes to art production, he tends merely to -reproduce in more or less idealised forms the objects and scenes he -finds around him; his art tends to be essentially objective. On the -other hand, in the dull northern climes, man has not ever at hand these -sources of satisfaction in the mere contemplation of the outer world; -consequently he is driven back upon his own nature, to find his -satisfactions in a ceaseless activity of mind and body, but chiefly of -the latter. Hence, races so situated are characterised by great bodily -activity and their art and literature are essentially subjective. The -thick air, the monotony of vague form and colour, drive the mind to -reflection upon itself; and in art the objects of nature serve merely as -symbols by aid of which the mind seeks to express its own broodings. -"The painter paints with the intentions of the poet, the poet describes -or sings with the motives of the psychologist or moralist. All the -literature of imagination of the English shows us the internal reacting -incessantly upon the external with a singular power of transfiguration -and interpretation[108]." Hence also poetry is the privilege of a few -rare spirits and is for them the product of deep reflection, not a -simple lyrical expression in which all can equally share. - -It is certainly true that climate tends to produce these effects by its -direct action on individuals. Anyone who has lived for a time in the -southern climes must have noted these effects upon himself. But we have -no proof that the effects of climate are directly inherited. It suffices -to suppose that the direct effects are imposed afresh by the climate on -the minds of each generation. This view is borne out by the fact that -two races may live for many generations in the same climate and yet -remain very different in temperament in these respects; for example the -Irish climate is very similar to the English, perhaps even more misty -and damp; yet the Irish have much more wit and liveliness than the -English. And in every case in which adaptation to physical environment -has clearly become innate or racial, an explanation can be suggested in -terms of selection of spontaneous variations, or of crossing of races. -Thus, the approximation of the American people to the type of the -aboriginals, if it is actual, and some observers deny it, may well be -due to the small infusion of the native blood which has admittedly taken -place. It may well be that certain qualities of the Red Indian, for -example, the straight dark hair and prominent cheek bones, are what the -biologists call 'dominant characters' when the Indian is crossed with -the European; that is, qualities which always assert themselves in the -offspring, to the exclusion of the corresponding quality of the other -race involved in the cross. If that is so, a very small proportion of -Indian blood would suffice to make these features very common throughout -the population of America. As an exception to the supposed law of direct -hereditary adaptation to climate take the colour of the skin. The black -negroes live in the hot moist regions of Africa, and it has been said -that pigmentation is the hereditary effect of a hot moist climate. But -there are men of a different race who have long lived in an equally hot -and moist climate, but who do not show this effect--namely, tribes in the -heart of Borneo, right under the equator, whose skins are hardly darker -than the average English skins and less dark than the Southern -Europeans'. Take again the indolence of the peoples of warm hot climates -and the energy of peoples of colder climates. These certainly seem to be -racial qualities; but their distribution is adequately explained by the -indirect effect of physical environment exerted by way of natural -selection; and these differences of energy afford the best illustration -of such indirect action of physical environment in determining racial -mental qualities. - -Before considering the question further, let us note yet another way in -which the physical environment affects men's minds and has been supposed -directly to induce certain racial qualities. Buckle pointed out with -great force the influence on the mind of what he called the external -aspects of nature. He showed that where, as in India and the greater -part of Asia, the physical features of a country are planned upon a very -large scale; where the mountains are huge, where rivers are of immense -length and volume, where plains are of boundless extent, and the sun -very hot, there the forces of nature are exerted with an intensity that -renders futile the best efforts of man, at any rate of man in a state of -low civilisation, to cope with them. In such countries men are exposed -to calamities on an enormous scale, great floods, violent storms and -deluges of rain, earthquakes, excessive droughts resulting in famine and -plague; and they are exposed to the attacks of many dangerous animal -species, which are bred by the great heat in the dense and unconquerable -forests. These disasters have repeatedly occurred on a scale such that -in comparison with them the recent earthquake in California appears a -mere trifle. Millions have been destroyed in a few hours in some of the -floods of the Yellow River of China. - -The magnitude of these objects and the appalling and irresistible -character of such devastating forces produce, said Buckle, two principal -and closely allied effects upon the mind; they stimulate the imagination -to run riot in extravagant and grotesque fancies; at the same time, they -discourage any attempt to cope with these great forces and to understand -their laws, and thus keep men perpetually in fearful uncertainty as to -their fate; for they cannot hope to control it by their own unaided -efforts. - -Hence, the encouragement of superstition; hence, the dominance of a -degrading religion of fear throughout the greater part of such regions; -hence, the supremacy of priests and religious orders and the -discouragement of scientific reasoning. Hence, in the arts, the -literature, and the religion of India, we see a dominant tendency to the -grotesque, the enormous, the fearful; we see gods portrayed with many -arms, with three eyes and terrible visages. The legends of their heroes -contain monstrous details, as that they lived for many thousands or -millions of years. "All this," says Buckle, "is but a part of that love -of the remote, that straining after the infinite, and that indifference -to the present, which characterises every branch of Indian intellect. -Not only in literature, but also in religion and in art, this tendency -is supreme. To subdue the understanding, and indulge the imagination, is -the universal principle. In the principles of their theology, in the -character of their gods, and even in the form of their temples, we see -how the sublime and threatening aspects of the external world have -filled the mind of the people with those images of the grand and the -terrible, which they strive to reproduce in a visible form, and to which -they owe the leading peculiarities of their national culture."[109] - -That these peculiarities of the mental life of such peoples are causally -related with those terrible aspects of nature is, I think, sufficiently -established by Buckle. But if we admit this, there remain two questions: -(1) Have these tendencies become innate racial qualities? (2) If so, how -have they been rendered innate? Buckle did not raise these questions and -offered no opinion in regard to them. But he seems to have assumed that -these tendencies have become innate; and there is much to be said for -that view. Yet, if that could be shown conclusively, it still would not -prove inheritance of these acquired qualities. It may have resulted in -some such way as this: the physical environment stimulates the -imagination, and it represses the tendency to control imagination and -superstition by reason and calm inquiry after causes; acting thus upon -successive generations of men, it determines the peculiarities of the -religious system and of the art and literature of the people. -Individuals in whom the same tendencies are innately strong will then -flourish under such a system; whereas those whose innate tendencies are -in the direction of reason and scepticism will find the system -uncongenial, unfavourable for the exercise of their best powers; they -will fail to make their mark; they may, as in many instances of European -inquirers, actually have lost their lives or their liberty through the -religious zeal of those who maintain the traditional system. Thus the -social environment, working through long ages, may have constantly -determined a certain degree of selection of the innate tendencies -congenial to it, and a weeding out of the opposed tendencies; until the -former have predominated in the race[110]. - -We have here a very important principle which we must constantly bear in -mind--namely, that not only the physical environment, but also the -social environment, may determine the survival of those temperaments and -qualities of mind best fitted to thrive in it, and, by handicapping -those least fitted to it, may gradually bring the mental qualities of -the race into conformity with itself. We shall later see other examples -by which this principle is more clearly illustrated. - -We conclude that, while physical environment may act powerfully upon the -minds of individuals, moulding their acquired qualities in the three -ways noticed--namely, influencing the mind through bodily habit, through -the senses, and through the imagination--there is no sufficient evidence -that the acquired qualities so induced ever become innate or racial -characters by direct transmission. In those instances in which the -racial qualities approximate to these direct effects of physical -environment, it may well be because the physical environment has brought -about adaptation of the race by long continued selection of individuals, -or because it has determined peculiarities of social environment, which -in turn have brought about adaptation of the racial qualities by long -continued selection. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -THE RACE-MAKING PERIOD (_continued_) - - -We considered in our last chapter the principal modes in which physical -environment affects the character of a people--namely, (1) influence on -temperament exerted chiefly through climate acting upon the bodily -functions: (2) influence through the senses, exerting secondary effects -upon the higher mental processes: (3) direct influence on the -imagination. We concluded that these effects become innate in some -degree; though whether they are impressed on the race by direct -inheritance, or by processes of direct or of social selection, or in all -three ways, remains an open question. - -We distinguished, besides these direct modes of influence, two indirect -modes by which physical environment affects the mind and character of a -people: (1) by its selective action on individuals apart from its -influence upon their minds: (2) by determining occupations and social -organisation. We may consider them in turn. - -It is recognised, as I pointed out above, that the races inhabiting hot -moist countries are commonly indolent, while those of the moderately -cold and moist climates tend to be extremely active and energetic. - -This difference is well brought out by Mr Meredith Townsend in an essay -on the charm of Asia for the Asiatics[111]; and he is speaking not of -Asia in general but of Southern Asia. He says Asiatics "will not, under -any provocation, burden themselves with a sustained habit of taking -trouble. You might as well ask lazzaroni to behave like Prussian -officials." After quoting Thiers' description of the immense labours of -detailed administration which he supported while minister of State, he -says "No Asiatic will do that.... One half the weakness of every -Oriental government arises from the impossibility of finding men who -will act as M. Thiers did." These races, bred in the tropics, are in -fact incurable lotus-eaters, their chief desire is for the afternoon -life or, as is commonly said of the Malays throughout the Eastern -Archipelago, they are great leg-swingers, they prefer to undertake no -labour more arduous than sitting still swinging their legs. All this, -though more or less true of the tropical races in general, is -pre-eminently true of those inhabiting regions which are moist as well -as hot, the Malays, the Burmese, the Siamese, the Papuans, the Negroes -of the African jungle regions. - -Such peoples have failed to acquire the energy which leads men to -delight in activity for its own sake, not merely because a hot moist -climate inclines directly to indolence, but rather because the prime -necessities of life are to be had almost without labour; the heat -dispenses with the necessity for clothing and shelter, while the hot sun -and the moisture provide an abundance of vegetable food in response to a -minimum of labour. Hence, no man perishes through lack of energy to -secure the prime necessities of life; and there has been no great -weeding out of the indolent by severe conditions of life, such as alone -can produce an innately energetic race, one that loves activity for its -own sake. For the same reason these same peoples also exercise but -little foresight, they are naturally improvident; the abundance of -nature renders it possible to survive and propagate without any prudent -provision for the future. - -Contrast with these races the northerly races--in Asia the Japanese, -whose energy and industry we all recognise, and the northern Mongols or -Tartars, who have so often overrun and conquered with fire and sword the -less energetic peoples of the south, or the Goorkhas or Pathans of the -highlands of northern India. But more especially contrast with them the -English people. M. Boutmy rightly asserts that "the taste for and the -habit of effort must be regarded as the most essential attribute, the -profound and spontaneous quality, of the race[112]." It is displayed in -the English love of sport and adventure and travel, especially in such -recreations as mountain climbing, which is pre-eminently an English -sport; also throughout our social life, in the intensity of commercial -and industrial activity, often carried on ardently by men far removed -from any necessity of making money. In our political life, where a vast -amount of effort is constantly expended in achieving comparatively small -results, we always seem to prefer to achieve any reform by the methods -which give scope to and demand the greatest amount of public activity -and effort. It is shewn also in the immense amount of public service -rendered without remuneration, for the mere love of activity and the -exercise of power. It is very striking in English colonies in tropical -lands, and has been no doubt an important factor in our success in -tropical administration and in colonisation. - -Boutmy is inclined to attribute to this love of activity, as a secondary -effect, the dislike of the mass of Englishmen for generalisations and -for theoretical construction; for, he says, these are the results -naturally achieved by the reflective mind, whereas the English mind gets -no time for reflection, its attention is perpetually drawn off from -general principles by its tendency to pursue some immediate practical -end. Hence, he says, abstraction is subordinated to practical ends and -does not soar for its own sake. This truth is well illustrated by the -fact that all our English philosophers, Bacon, Hobbes, Locke, Mill, -Bentham, Spencer, etc., have been practical moralists, and have -conducted their investigations always with an eye to concrete -applications to the conduct of the State or of private life. - -Boutmy regards this love of activity, together with foresight and -self-control, as racial qualities engendered by the severity of the -climate, working chiefly by way of natural selection. In the prehistoric -period more especially, when man had little knowledge of means of -protection from climate and hardship such as have been developed by -civilised societies, those individuals who were deficient in these -qualities must have succumbed to the rigours of the climate, leaving -their more energetic fellows to propagate the race. - -That there is truth in the view is shown by the fact that the degree to -which the love of activity is developed seems to vary roughly with the -severity of the climate even among the closely allied races of Europe. -As we pass northward from the coast of the Mediterranean, we find the -quality more and more strongly marked; and it is in accordance with this -principle that the dominant power, the leadership in civilisation, has -passed gradually northwards in the historic period. Civilisation first -developed in the sub-tropical regions, in which the abundance of nature -first gave men leisure to devote themselves to things of the mind, to -contemplation and inquiry; while the northern races were still battling -as savages against the inclemency of the climate, were still being -ruthlessly weeded out by the rigorousness of the physical environment, -and so were being adapted to it, that is to say, were being rendered -capable of sustained and vigorous effort. But, as the means of subduing -nature and of protecting himself against nature have been developed by -man, the dominance has passed successively northwards to peoples whose -innate energy and love of activity were more highly developed in -proportion to the severity of the selection exerted upon many preceding -generations. - -The severe climate has not been the only cause of this evolution of an -energetic active type. No doubt military selection played its part also. -The Northern races of Europe, more particularly the Nordic, the -fair-haired long-headed race, underwent a prolonged and severe process -of such military group selection, before branches of it settled in our -island; and, among the qualities which must have tended to success and -survival in this process, energy and capacity for prolonged and frequent -effort, especially bodily effort, must have been one of the chief. -Still, even such group selection was probably a secondary result of the -direct climatic selection; for it must have been the love of activity -and enterprise that led these peoples perpetually to wander, and so to -come into conflicts with one another, conflicts in which the more -energetic would in the main survive and the less energetic succumb. In -part also it must have been determined in the third and the most -indirect manner in which physical environment shapes racial -qualities--namely, by determining occupations and modes of life, and -through these the forms of social organisation, both of which then react -upon the racial qualities. - -In illustration of this third mode of action of physical conditions, let -us take a striking difference of mental quality between the French and -the English peoples, and inquire how the difference has arisen; a -difference which is recognised by every capable observer who has -compared the two peoples and which has been of immense importance in -shaping the history of the modern world. I mean the greater sociability -of the French and the greater independence of the English, a greater -self-reliance and capacity for individual initiative. The difference -finds expression in every aspect of the national life of the two -peoples. The sociability and sympathetic character of the French, on -which they justly pride themselves[113], is the inverse aspect of their -lack of the characteristic English qualities, independence and -self-reliance. In political life the difference appears in the -centralised organisation of the French nation, every detail of -administration being controlled by the central power through a rigidly -organised hierarchy of officials, in a way that leaves no scope for -initiative and independence in local administrations. Connected with -this is the almost universal desire of educated men to become state -functionaries, parts of the official machinery of administration, and -the consequent excessive growth of this class of persons. - -The same quality of the French shows itself in the tendency to prefer -the monarchical rule of any man who shows himself capable of ruling, a -tendency which constantly besets the republican State with a -well-recognised danger. These are not local and temporary -manifestations, but have characterised the French nation throughout the -whole period of its existence. In the feudal period which preceded its -formation, there was considerable local independence; but the feudal -system was due to the dominant influence of Frankish chiefs, of the same -race as our Saxon forefathers, who overran most of France as a ruling -caste, but did not contribute any large element to the population, and -whose blood therefore has been largely swamped. It appears in the -greater violence among the French people of collective mental processes, -those of mobs, assemblies, factions, and groups of all kinds. Each -individual is easily carried away by the mass; there are none to -withstand the wave of contagion and, by so doing, to break and check its -force. - -In England on the other hand political activity has always been -characterised by extreme jealousy of the central power, and by the -tendency to achieve everything possible by local action and voluntary -private effort. All reforms are initiated from the periphery, instead of -from the centre as in France. Great institutions, the universities, -schools, colleges, hospitals, railways, canals, docks, insurance -companies, even water supplies and telephones and many other things -which, it would seem, should naturally and properly be undertaken by the -State, or other official public body, have been generally set on foot -and worked by individuals or private associations of individuals. Even -vast colonial empires--India, Rhodesia, Canada, Sarawak, Nigeria, North -Borneo--have been in the main acquired through the enterprise and efforts -of individuals or associations of individuals; the State only -intervening when the main work has been accomplished. - -In their religion, too, the English are markedly individualistic; our -numerous dissenting bodies have mostly dispensed with the centralised -official hierarchy which in Roman Catholic countries mediates between -God and man, and have insisted upon a direct communion with God; and we -have many little churches each of which governs itself in absolute -independence of every other. In the family relations the same difference -appears very strongly. The French family regards itself, and is -regarded by law, as a community which holds its goods in common; each -child has his legal claim upon his share, relies upon his family for -support in his struggle with the world, and is encouraged by his parents -to do so. In the English family, on the other hand, the father is a -supreme despot, who disposes of his property as he wills. The children -are not encouraged to look for further support, when once they become -adult, but are taught that they must go out into the world to seek their -fortunes unaided. At an early age, the English boy is usually thrust out -of the family into the life of a school in which, by his own efforts, he -must find and keep his position among his fellows; and he lives a life -which, compared with that of the French boy, is one of freedom and -independence. In the distribution of the people on the land we see the -same difference of mental qualities revealed. The French peasants are -for the most part congregated sociably in villages and small towns; the -English farmer builds his homestead apart upon his own domain. And this -determines one of the most striking differences in the aspect of the -rural districts of both countries. In the towns also the same tendencies -are clearly shown; in the separate little homes of the English and in -the large houses of the French shared by several families. - -It is in the expansion in the world of the two peoples that the effects -of this difference are most clearly expressed and assume the greatest -importance. The English race has populated a vast proportion of the -surface of the world, and rules over one-fifth of the total population. -Whereas the French people, who have conquered large areas, have never -succeeded in permanently colonising any considerable portion of their -conquests and they have failed to maintain their domination in many -regions where they have for a time established it. In every -extra-European region where they have come into conflict with the -English race they have been worsted. - -The secret of the difference in the expansion of the two peoples is the -difference of innate mental quality that we are considering, enhanced by -the differences of custom and of political and family organisation -engendered by it. For, like all other innate tendencies, the two to -which we are referring obtain accentuated expression through moulding -customs, institutions and social organisation in ways which foster in -successive generations just those tendencies of which these institutions -are themselves the traditional outcome and expression. Thus, it is the -individualistic nature of the political, religious, and family -organisation of the English people which, having been engendered by -innate independence of character and having in turn accentuated it in -each generation, has enabled the people to achieve its marvels of -colonisation and tropical administration. We see these tendencies -playing a predominant part in the history of every British colony. - -The difference was well brought out by Volney, a French observer of the -French and English colonists in the early days of the settlement of -North America. He wrote "The French colonist deliberates with his wife -upon everything that he proposes to do; often the plans fall to the -ground through lack of agreement." "To visit one's neighbours, to chat -with them, is for the French an habitual need so imperious that on all -the frontier of Louisiana and Canada you will not find a single French -colonist established beyond sight of his neighbour's home." "On the -other hand, the English colonist, slow and taciturn, passes the whole -day continuously at work; at breakfast he coldly gives his orders to his -wife; ... and goes forth to labour.... If he finds an opportunity to -sell his farm at a profit, he does so and goes ten or twenty leagues -further into the wilderness to make himself a new home[114]." - -It is the French authors themselves who have most insisted upon this -mental difference between the French and the English, which seems to be -determining a great difference in the destinies of the two peoples; and -most of them, while justly valuing the sympathetic and sociable quality -of the French mind, deeply regret its lack of the English -independence[115]. There has been no lack of speculation and inquiry as -to the origin and causes of this supremely important difference. It is -perhaps worth while to glance at some of these attempts. - -The most superficial attempt at explanation is to say that the political -and social institutions of the French people foster in each individual -the social tendencies in question, while the English institutions -develop their opposites. It is true, but it obviously is not the -explanation of the difference; for that we must go further back, in -order to find the origin of these differences of institution. - -An explanation a little less superficial is that the domination of the -first Napoleon and the strong centralised system of administration -established by him accounts for the difference. But the permanence, if -not the very possibility, of that system, and the rise to power of -Napoleon himself, were but symptoms of this deep-lying tendency of the -French mind. - -Buckle, recognising the profound difference which we are considering, -summed it up in the phrases 'the dominance of the protective spirit in -France' and of 'the spirit of independence in England,' He attributed -the former partly to the influence of the Roman Catholic Church in -France with its centralised authoritative system, partly to the long -prevalence of the feudal system of social organisation, under which -every man was made to feel his personal dependence upon the despotic -power of an independent noble and was accustomed to look to him for all -initiative and guidance--was trained to obey a despot, whose absolute -jurisdiction and whose title to his lands and rights was unchallenged. -The system, he said, culminated in the despotism of Louis XIV, by the -subjection of the previously independent nobles to the king, and was -revived in a different form, immediately after the great revolution, by -Napoleon. - -The dominance of the spirit of independence among the English people he -would explain also from the character of their political institutions -during recent centuries. After recounting the political history of -England from the sixteenth to the eighteenth century, and after showing -how the people during that period repeatedly succeeded in asserting its -liberties against the encroachments of the kings, he wrote--"In England -the course of affairs, which I have endeavoured to trace since the -sixteenth century, had diffused among the people a knowledge of their -own resources and a skill and independence in the use of them, imperfect -indeed, but still far superior to that possessed by any other of the -great European countries," But he was not wholly satisfied with this -explanation; he added--"Besides this, other circumstances, which will be -hereafter related, had, as early as the eleventh century, begun to -affect our national character and had assisted in imparting to it that -sturdy boldness, and at the same time, those habits of foresight, and of -cautious reserve, to which the English mind owes its leading -peculiarities." - -When we turn to his account of the primary cause of English -independence[116], we find that it was, in his view, that the feudal -system was established by William the Conqueror in a form different from -that obtaining on the continent. The nobles received their lands -directly from the king as grants, and all land owners were made to -acknowledge their direct obligation to him. The nobles were in -consequence too weak to set up their own power against that of the -king, and therefore they called the people to their aid in resisting the -power of the king; hence, the people early acquired rights and -privileges and the habit of organised resistance to the central -authority. "The English aristocracy, being thus forced by their own -weakness, to rely on the people, it naturally followed that the people -imbibed that tone of independence and that lofty bearing, of which our -civil and political institutions are the consequence, rather than the -cause. It is to this, and not to any fanciful peculiarity of race, that -we owe the sturdy and enterprising spirit for which the inhabitants of -this island have long been remarkable." - -"The practice of subinfeudation, became in France almost universal." The -great lords subgranted parts of their lands to lesser lords, and these -again to others, and so on--"thus forming a long chain of dependence, -and, as it were, organising submission into a system." In this country, -on the other hand, the practice was actively checked. "The result was -that by the fourteenth century the liberties of Englishmen were -secured," and the spirit of independence had become a part of the -national character; that is to say, Buckle maintained that three -centuries of a different form of the feudal system sufficed to produce -this profound difference between the French and English peoples. - -Boutmy also fully recognises the important difference between the innate -qualities of the French and English; and he also would explain it as the -effect of political institutions since the middle ages, but on lines -somewhat different from Buckle's--namely, that England was early ruled by -a king invested with great power, and inclined to all the excesses of -arbitrary rule. Hence the first need of the people was to fortify -themselves against his power. All the law of England carries the imprint -of this fear and this defiance. The parliament has been set up against -the crown, the judges against parliament, and the jury against the power -of the judges; and so, ever since the conquest, individuals have been -accustomed to think, and to assert, that their persons, their purse, and -their homes are inviolable; and that the State is an enemy whose -encroachments must be resisted. This way of thinking has by long usage -become instinctive, increasing from generation to generation; until the -horror of servitude has become rooted in the Englishman's temperament, -and the desire of independence has become a native and primary passion. - -Both Buckle and Boutmy agree, then, that the English love of liberty is -due to England having been conquered and ruled by a powerful king, and -that in France the opposite effect is to be attributed to the same -cause--namely, the influence of despotic rulers. Surely this is to -reverse cause and effect. If the English people had not already -possessed the sturdy spirit of independence when they were conquered by -the Norman, his strong centralised rule would only have rendered them -still less independent and would have fostered the spirit of protection, -as Buckle calls it. If the national characters had been reversed in this -respect, how easy it would have been to show that the dependence of the -English character was due to the strong rule of a foreign despot, -William of Normandy, while the French independence was due to the -existence in feudal times of many centres of independent power, the -nobles, each capable of resisting the central authority! It was just -because this spirit was theirs already that the English people resisted -their kings and were able to secure their liberties by setting up -institutions congenial to their nature, institutions and customs which -have fostered in each individual and each generation the spirit of -independence inherited as a racial quality, and which possibly, though -by no means certainly, have further intensified the racial peculiarity. - -Another cause for the difference of institutions is assigned by Sir -Henry Maine. He pointed to the great influence of Roman law upon French -institutions; he showed how the French lawyers, brought up in the school -of Roman law and holding the Roman Empire as the ideal of a political -organisation, threw all their weight upon the side of the monarchy, and -in favour of centralised administration. More, perhaps, is due to this -influence than to the causes assigned by Buckle and Boutmy; but no one -of these alleged causes, nor all of them combined, can be accepted as -adequate to explain the origin of the difference of national characters. -These authors fail also to make clear how the political institutions can -have modified character. Boutmy frankly assumes use-inheritance, which, -as I have said, is, in the present state of science, an unwarrantable -assumption. - -That these qualities of the French and English peoples are innate racial -qualities, evolved during the race-making or prehistoric period, is -proved not only by the inadequacy of any assignable causes operating -during the historic period, but also by the fact that similar qualities -are described by the earliest historians as characterising the -ancestors, or the principal ancestral stocks, of the two peoples, when -they first appear in history. It is proved also by the fact that other -branches of the Nordic race have displayed similar qualities, more -especially the Dutch, and also the Normans, who, though they have long -formed part of the French State in the political sense, and have -suffered most of the political influences assigned as causes of the -spirit of protection, not only displayed the spirit of independence in -the highest degree ten centuries ago, but are admitted to be still -distinguished from the bulk of the French people by the greater -individualism of their character, just as they are still markedly -different in physical traits. They offer one of the best examples of -fixity of the physical characters of a race. No one can travel in -Normandy without being struck by the very marked and distinctive -physical type, which, according to all accounts, is that of the Norman -who came over to England with the Conqueror; and there is every reason -to believe that the mental qualities of the race have been equally fixed -and enduring. - -Julius Caesar, Tacitus, and other early historians have described for us -the leading qualities of the Gauls on the one hand and of the Teutons on -the other. Fouillée in his _Psychology of the French People_ has brought -together the evidence of these early historians on the point; it shows -that the Gauls and the Teutons were distinguished very strongly by the -same differences which obtain between the French and English peoples at -the present time, especially the difference in respect of independence -and initiative, the origin of which we are seeking to explain. The Gauls -were eminently sociable people, sympathetic, emotional, demonstrative, -vivacious, very given to oratory and discussion, vain and moved by the -desire of glory, capable of great gallantry, but not of persevering -effort in face of difficulties, easily elated, easily cast down. And, -what from our point of view is especially important, they were readily -led by the chiefs, to whom they were attached by the bonds of personal -loyalty; and they were constantly banding themselves together in large -groups, under such leaders as attained popularity by their superior -qualities; and, again, they were dominated by the priestly caste, the -Druids. The Gauls even had those family institutions which characterise -the modern French and which have been held to be the expression of their -recently acquired qualities and traditions; namely, the family had the -character of a community in which the wife had equal rights with the -husband, and the children were regarded also as members of the community -having their equal claims upon the family property. And society was -bound together by a system of patrons and clients, a system of personal -dependence. - -On the other hand, the Teutonic people, as described by the same ancient -authorities, displayed a decided individualism in virtue of which their -social organisation was more rudimentary. The father was supreme in the -family, and his power and property descended to his eldest son. They -were a more phlegmatic people, but of great energy and persistence. -Unlike the Gauls, they were dominated by no priestly caste. The -religious rites were conducted by the elder men. - -The Gauls were a mixed people of whom the minority, constituting the -nobility, were of the tall, fair, long-headed Nordic race, while the -majority, the mass of the common people, were of the short, dark, -round-headed race. And these, as the numerous observations of the -anthropologists show, constitute to-day the bulk of the population, -except in Normandy and the extreme north-east of France. - -The Teutons or Germans of Caesar and Tacitus, on the other hand, were of -the fair Nordic race; and the Anglo-Saxons who overran Britain, together -with the Danes and Normans, who, with the Saxons, formed the principal -ancestral stock of the English, were of this same Nordic race, or -Northmen, as we may call them. - -Now, it might seem useless to attempt to arrive at any conclusions as to -the influences that shaped these races in prehistoric times. But an -attempt has been made by one of the schools of French sociologists, -which, in spite of its speculative character, seems to be worthy of -attention. This is the school of 'La Science Sociale,' founded seventy -years ago by Fredericq le Play and more recently led by Ed. Demolins and -H. de Tourville. Aided by a number of ardent disciples, they have made a -special study of the influence of physical environment in determining -occupations and social organisation, and in moulding indirectly through -these the mental qualities of peoples. That is their great principle. -They rightly, I think, insist upon the relatively small importance of -political institutions in moulding a people, regarding them as secondary -results of the factors which, determining the private activities of men -and women at every moment of their lives from the cradle to the grave, -exert a far greater and more intimate influence upon their minds. In two -fascinating volumes[117] Demolins has summed up the principal results of -this school and attempted to trace the conditions that have determined -the differentiation of all the principal races of the earth; and de -Tourville has applied the same principles and traced their effects in -European history[118]. - -It is a curious fact that the work of the Le Play school is almost -entirely ignored by the other French sociologists and anthropologists. -It is seldom referred to by them, and outside France also it has not -received the attention it deserves. Much of it is of the nature of -brilliant speculation, and is regarded no doubt as unsound by many more -sober minds. Yet, when we attempt to understand the evolution of man in -the prehistoric period, brilliant speculation becomes a necessary -supplement to the work of measuring skulls and digging up ruins, to -which some less ingenious workers confine themselves. And, of all the -conclusions of the Le Play school, their account of the origin of the -distinctive characters of the Northmen is one of the most striking and -satisfactory; while their account of the origins of the Gauls and of -their peculiar social organisation and well marked mental traits is also -among their best work. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -THE RACE-MAKING PERIOD (_continued_) - - -THE INFLUENCE OF OCCUPATIONS AND OF RACE-CROSSING - -In the foregoing chapter we noticed certain well-marked and generally -recognised differences of national character presented by the French and -the English peoples--namely, the greater independence of the English, the -greater sociability of the French people; and we noted how these -differences of national character show themselves throughout the -institutions of the two nations, and how they have played a great part -in determining the difference of their histories; especially, we saw, -how they are of prime importance, when we seek to account for the -greater expansion of the English people throughout the world. - -We then noticed several attempts that have been made, by Buckle, Boutmy, -Maine and others, to account for these differences as results of -differences of political institutions during the last thousand years. We -found that all these attempts fail, and that the differences of -political institutions, which these authors have regarded as the causes -of the differences of national character, are really the expressions of -a fundamental racial difference; that, in short, these authors have -inverted the true causal relation. I then drew attention to the work of -the school of Le Play and especially to its fundamental -principle--namely, that, while peoples are in a state of primitive or -lowly culture, their geographical or physical environment determines -their occupations and, through their occupations, their social -organisations, especially their domestic organisation; and that -particular modes of occupation and of social organisation of a primitive -people, persisting through many generations, mould the innate qualities -and form the racial character. - -I said that two brilliant workers of the school--namely, Demolins and de -Tourville--had applied this principle to account for those differences -between the national characters of the French and English peoples which -we were considering. I have now to reproduce their account in as -condensed a form as possible. - -Demolins claims to show that the short dark round-headed people, who -formed the bulk of the Gauls and also of the population of modern -France, came, in prehistoric times, from the Eurasian steppe region, -reaching France by way of the valley of the Danube, a long narrow -lowland region confined on the north by the Carpathians and mountains of -Bohemia, on the south by the Balkans and Swiss Alps. He supposes that, -for long ages, they had lived as pastoral nomads on the steppes. By -examining the nomads who still lead the pastoral life on the steppes, he -shows the kind of social organisation to which this pastoral life -inevitably gives rise and under which they lived; and he traces the -effects which such occupation and such social organisation produce on -the mental qualities of a people. - -The system is the patriarchal system _par excellence_. It is something -very different from the Roman system characterised by the _patria -potestas_, which the writings of Sir H. Maine have perhaps tended to -confuse with the true patriarchal system. The patriarchal system of the -pastoral nomads is essentially a communal system, under which all the -brothers, sons, and grandsons of the patriarch form, with their -families, a community which holds all the property, consisting of flocks -and herds, in common; each member having his claim to his share of the -produce, each doing his share of the common labour, and each having a -voice in the regulation of the affairs of the family. Such a system -represses individualism; there is no individual property, there are no -individual rights, duties, or responsibilities; no scope for individual -initiative; the individual is swallowed up in the community; superior -energy or enterprise bring no superior rewards, but rather tend to -social disorganisation and to the detriment of the individual who -displays them. Further, the work of looking after the herds of cattle is -easy and delightful, calling for no sustained exertion; and the herds -provide every necessary article of food, clothing, and shelter. Beyond -the family group there exists no political organisation; for the group -is self-supporting and independent, it has no need of relations with -other groups, and each group lives far apart from others, wandering in -some ill-defined region of the immense plain. - -The peculiarities of this social organisation and of this mode of life -are clearly created by the physical environment, by the boundless grassy -plains, which enable each family group to maintain a large troup of -cattle, chiefly horses. At the same time, these conditions render -necessary the co-operation of all the members of the family in the -common work of tending the cattle; while the necessity of continually -moving on to fresh pasture prevents the growth of any fixed forms of -property and of any more elaborate social organisation. - -It is an extremely stable and persistent mode of life and of social -organisation. So long as the geographical conditions remain unchanged, -it is difficult to see how any change would take place in it, how any -progress towards civilisation could begin. And, as a matter of fact, the -people who have remained in these regions continue to lead just the same -patriarchal, pastoral, nomadic life. Long ages of this mode of life may -well put upon a people the stamp of sociability and communism and kill -out individualism and individual initiative! Demolins points out in a -very interesting way how these effects of the patriarchal system of the -pastoral nomads are displayed most clearly still by the population of -southern Russia, who, of all the settled European peoples descended from -such pastoral nomads, have suffered fewest disturbing influences; how -still the individual is subordinated to the community, to the _mir_, by -which all private life and industrial activity is directed and which is -the owner of the principal property, namely the land; and how, in -consequence, the people remain devoid of all individual initiative and -enterprise. - -The Celts arriving in Gaul retained these qualities and something of the -patriarchal organisation, although they were no longer simply pastoral -nomads; for, in the course of their migrations, they had been forced to -take up agriculture and the rearing of other domestic animals, -especially the pig, through lack of sufficient open steppe land. While -in this disorganised condition in Gaul, they were overrun by tribes of -the Nordic race, who established themselves as a conquering nobility, -superimposing upon the rudimentary political organisation of the Celts a -loose military organisation of clans; each clan was led by a popular -warrior who attached to himself by his personal qualities as large as -possible a number of clients or clansmen, acquiring rights over their -land and property, in return for the patronage and protection he offered -them. These nobles with their blood relatives were the tall fair-haired -Gauls described by Caesar. The Celts lent themselves readily to this -system based on personal loyalty and leadership, owing to their lack of -independence of character engendered by long ages of the patriarchal -communal régime. And the new social organisation fostered and developed -still more through many generations the spirit of dependence, the -tendency to look for authoritative guidance and control to some -recognised centre of power. - -Under the two circumstances, the long régime of patriarchal communism -and the subsequent prevalence for many generations of the clan system, -we may see, according to Demolins, the causes of those deep-seated -tendencies of the French nation (summed up by Buckle in the phrase the -spirit of protection) which throughout their history have played so -large a part in shaping the destinies of the people, and which are still -the source of grave anxiety to many patriotic Frenchmen. - -It is interesting to note that among the Celtic populations of the -British Isles the same features have been clearly displayed. We see -among them the clan-system with its dual ownership of the soil, which -has been perpetuated in Ireland to the present day and has received more -formal and legal recognition from the British government in its recent -legislation. We see the strong clannish spirit and relative lack of -independence. These qualities are clearly shown by the Celtic Irish, -even when they have been compelled by necessity to emigrate to America. -There they are not found to be pioneers on the frontiers of -civilisation, but rather remain herded together in clannish communities -in the cities of the eastern states, where they create such powerful -unofficial associations as 'Tammany Hall.' - -Demolins' account of the genesis of the spirit of independence and -enterprise of the Anglo-Saxons is still more interesting and seductive. -He supposes that their ancestors also came originally in very remote -times from the Eurasian steppes; but that is a disputable point and -forms no essential part of his argument. They settled in prehistoric -times around the coasts of the Baltic and the North Sea, especially in -Scandinavia. And the physical peculiarities of this region impressed -upon their descendants the qualities which have enabled them to play a -leading part in the destruction of the Roman power and in the -development of the civilisation of modern Europe, and which have -established them in almost every part of the world as a dominant race, -increasing in power and numbers at the expense of other peoples. - -What, then, are these physical conditions? - -Scandinavia is a mass of barren mountains coming down in almost all -parts abruptly to the sea. Its coast line is indented by innumerable -fiords and bordered by thousands of small islands; and the sea which -washes these coasts is warmed by the Gulf Stream. This sea, owing to its -warmth and to the existence of a great bank which lies near the surface -and runs parallel to the coast line, is extremely rich in fish. Hence, -the Nordic tribes who settled in Scandinavia inevitably became a -sea-faring folk, spreading slowly along the coasts in small boats, -supporting themselves in large part upon the fish which they caught in -the sea; for the land is barren, while the sea offers ideal conditions -for fishing in small boats. But, unlike the herds of pastoral peoples, -sea-fishing does not provide all the necessities of a simple life. It -must be combined with agriculture. Hence, the ancient Northmen became a -race of hardy seafarers who at the same time practised agriculture. - -The character of the land which was available for the necessary but -supplementary agriculture was all important. It consisted, as it does -still, of small isolated strips of cultivatable soil at the feet of the -mountains where they plunge into the sea. On such land it was impossible -for the family to retain the form of a patriarchal community. The -fertile areas were too small to support such communities, and the -individualistic form of family was inevitably evolved. On each small -plot of cultivatable land a little farm was formed, a homestead in which -lived a family restricted to father, mother, and children. As the -children grew up, it was impossible to support them on the one small -farm or to divide it among them; one son alone was chosen as the -inheritor of the paternal farm; and each of the others had to seek a new -piece of land, build a new homestead, and acquire his own boat. - -Thus, the family was forced to become the individualistic family; and -the home of each such family was necessarily isolated, widely separated -from that of every other, owing to the scattered distribution of the -little areas of fertile soil. Thus were formed the first homes in the -English sense of the word; the home in which the father rules supreme -over his own little household, brooking no interference from outside; -the home in which the children are brought up to look forward to -establishing, each child for himself, similar independent -individualistic homes. Such homes have been established by the Northmen -in every part of the world in which they have settled; and they are -peculiar to them and their descendants. - -It is obvious that all the very limited domains of the Scandinavian -coasts must have been fully occupied in the way described in a -comparatively few generations after the process of settlement began. -This seems to have occurred about the fourth or fifth century A.D. Then -the younger sons, for whom there was no place at home and for whom there -remained no spots suitable for homesteads in their native land, were -sent out into the world to seek their fortunes. They banded themselves -together to man single boats, or formed fleets of boats; and, leaving -their parents and women-folk behind, set out to conquer for themselves -new homesteads. Large numbers, sailing to the southern shores of the -Baltic and up the Weser and the Elbe, settled on the plains of Saxony; -and from this new centre they again spread, as the Anglo-Saxons to -England, and as the Franks to Gaul. Others settled directly in northern -France and became the Normans. Others, the Varegs, penetrated the plains -of Russia and established themselves as princes over the Slav -population. - -This was a migration such as had never before been seen; bands of armed -men, all young or in the prime of life, coming not as mere robbers, but -seeking to conquer for themselves and to settle upon whatever land -seemed to them most desirable. Everywhere they went they conquered and -either exterminated or drove out the indigenous population, as in the -south and east of England, or established themselves as an aristocracy, -a ruling military caste, as the Franks in the north-east of Gaul. And -everywhere they established firmly their individualistic social -organisation, especially the isolated homestead of the individualistic -family, characterised by the despotic power of the father and by great -regard for individual property and for the rights of the individual as -against all State institutions and public powers. In hostile countries -the homestead became a fortified place, or at least was furnished with a -fortified keep or castle; and in those regions, such as Gaul, in which -the indigenous population was not exterminated, the feudal system was -thus initiated. Everywhere they carried their spirit of independence, -enterprise, and initiation. - -It was the swarming of the young broods of Northmen in search of new -homes that caused the Romans to describe these Northern lands as the -womb of peoples, and to regard them with wonder and something of fear. - -These qualities and habits continued to be displayed in the highest -degree by the Normans after their first settlement in the north of -France. The younger sons kept up the good old fashion of going out into -the world to seek a fortune or rather a territory, which often was a -dukedom or a kingdom. Their most characteristic performance was the -conquest of the greater part of Italy. A little before William of -Normandy and his companions secured for themselves domains in this -country, Norman knights, engaging in enterprises that might well have -seemed absolutely foolhardy, had established themselves in Mediterranean -lands. Some two thousand Normans, arriving Viking fashion in their small -ships, conquered Sicily and the south of Italy and divided these lands -among themselves; and for a time they introduced order and a settled -mode of life among the peoples of those parts. The leading spirits -among them were ten sons of one Norman gentleman, Tancrède de -Hauteville, the father of twelve sons of whom two only remained at home, -while each of the others carved out for himself a domain in Italy. As -Demolins remarks, these families, retaining undiminished their -individualistic tendencies and spirit of independence, were veritable -factories of men for exportation. - -The modern Frenchman, says Demolins, would regard as the height of folly -the enterprises of the old Northmen, who, mounted on their frail ships, -quitted each spring the coast of Scandinavia, launched out on the wild -sea, landed, a mere handful of men, on the coasts of Germany, Britain, -or Gaul, and there with their swords carved out domains and made new -homesteads. It was thus that the ancestors of Tancred had acquired the -manor of Hauteville, and it was thus that his sons conquered Italy and -Sicily. - -It was in a very similar way that, in a later age, men of the same breed -carried to the new world the same individualistic institutions and the -same spirit of independence, and in doing so, laid the sure foundations -of the immense vigour and prosperity of the American people. - -There is one almost more striking illustration of the great and lasting -effects upon character and institutions of the mode of life of the -Northmen determined by their physical environment. It is furnished by -the character and habits of the people who still dwell in the plains -between the mouths and lower parts of the Weser and the Elbe, a region -which was naturally one of the first to be conquered and occupied by the -Northmen. This territory is an infertile sandy plain, and at the time of -the coming of the Northmen had but scanty population; hence, instead of -becoming the military and ruling caste of a subject people, the Northmen -became themselves peasants and farmers. In doing so, they retained all -the characteristic features of the individualistic family and have -perpetuated them, together with the spirit of enterprise and -independence, undiminished to the present day. - -In this region each farm is a freehold which has remained in the hands -of the same family for long periods, in many cases for hundreds of -years. Each farm has its isolated homestead inhabited by the head of the -family, his wife and young children, and one or two hired servants. Each -homestead is well nigh completely self-supporting and lives almost -independent of the outside world. In spite of the isolation, which might -have been expected to engender an extreme conservatism and backwardness -of culture, these farmers have continued to exhibit the old Northmen's -spirit of enterprise and their power of voluntary combination in the -pursuit of individual ends. They were the first in Europe to establish a -society for the scientific study of agriculture, and they have thus -maintained themselves in the first rank as cultivators of the land, -quite without State assistance. In the same way and at an early date -they established schools for their children. They have continued to -produce large families and have retained the custom of handing over the -farm and homestead intact to one son, chosen for his ability to manage -it; while all the other sons keep up the old custom of going out into -the world to seek their fortunes, in the shape of new homesteads. - -Most striking of all, they still do this in the old Norse fashion as -nearly as possible. In one district these farmers combined their efforts -some sixty years ago and built a ship which, since that time, has sailed -every year to South Africa, carrying there the surplus sons in search of -new domains for themselves. In that far country their spirit of -independence finds satisfaction in establishing new homesteads, new -families of the individualistic type, and in perpetuating their -traditions of enterprise and self-reliance. - -It is because the modern Scandinavians are of the same stock, fashioned -for long ages by the same physical environment, that they have continued -to emigrate in large numbers to North America, where some of their -ancestral race landed centuries before Columbus was born, and where, in -the newly opened territories of Canada and the United States, they are -generally recognised as being among the best of the settlers. - -Demolins does not enter into the question--How did the institutions and -mode of life of these or other peoples, determined by physical -environment, bring about adaptation of racial qualities to the -environment? He seems to assume in all cases use-inheritance. But if, as -seems possible or even probable, this is a false assumption, we may -still see clearly that, in the case of the Northmen at least, adaptation -may well have been effected by selection. The conditions of life of -these Northmen were such that in each generation the majority of men -could become fathers of families only after carrying through -successfully an enterprise in which a bold independence of spirit was -the prime condition of success. - -Those who were deficient in the spirit of independence must have shrunk -from these wild expeditions in search of new homes to be won only by -the sword, or must in the main have failed to attain the end; remaining -at home, or returning there after failing in the enterprise to which -they proved unequal, to finish their days as bachelor uncles at the -paternal hearth. This process, carried on for many generations, would -lead to the evolution of just those qualities which are characteristic -of their descendants in all the many parts of the earth where they now -rule. Not only must such social selection have been operative during the -period of settlement of Scandinavia; but each great migration to a new -area must have sifted out the most independent and enterprising spirits -to be the founders and fathers of the new branch of the race[119]. Thus -the descendants of the pilgrim fathers were the product of three such -processes of severe selection; the migration from Scandinavia to -Northern Germany; that from Germany to England; and that from England to -America. No wonder that they proved themselves well able to cope with -the hardships and dangers of a new continent inhabited by savages only -less fiercely tempered than their own stock by many generations of -warfare! When we thus find the same institutions and the same mental -traits characterising, from the dawn of history to the present time, all -the widely separated branches of one racial stock and of this stock -alone, we realize how powerful over the destiny of nations is the -influence of racial character formed in the long prehistoric ages; we -see how futile it is to attempt to explain the mental traits of a people -by the history of their political institutions during a few recent -centuries; we understand that these institutions are the effects, not -the causes, of those mental qualities and that, even among the peoples -who have attained the highest degree of civilisation, racial qualities -remain of supreme importance. - - -THE CROSSING OF RACES - -Before passing on to the consideration of evolutionary changes during -the historic period, a few words must be said about the crossing and -blending of races. Such blending has been, no doubt, one of the -principal causes of the great variety of human types at present existing -on the earth. It has been going on for long ages in almost all regions; -but especially in Europe and Africa. All existing stocks (with few -exceptions) are the products of race-blending. No one of the existing -European peoples is of unmixed stock; every one is the product of -successive mixtures and blendings of allied stocks; and the mixing and -blending still goes on; while in America (both north and south) the -greatest experiments in race-blending that the world has yet seen are -taking place before our eyes. - -Authors differ widely as to the results of the crossing of human races -and subraces. Some assert that the effect of crossing of races is always -bad, that the cross-bred progeny is always inferior to the parent -stocks. They make no allowance for unfavourable conditions, especially -the lack of the strong moral traditions of old organised societies. -Others maintain the opposite opinion. Both opinions are probably correct -in a certain sense. I think the facts enable us to make with some -confidence the following generalisation. The crossing of the most widely -different stocks, stocks belonging to any two of the four main races of -man, produces an inferior race; but the crossing of stocks belonging to -the same principal race, and especially the crossing of closely allied -stocks, generally produces a blended subrace superior to the mean of the -two parental stocks, or at least not inferior. - -This generalisation cannot yet be based on exact and firmly established -data, unfortunately; but it is in harmony with old established popular -beliefs, and with what we know of the crossing of animal breeds; and it -is borne out by a general inspection of many examples. For instance, the -blending of the white, negro, and American stocks, which has been going -on in South America for some centuries, seems to have resulted in a -subrace which up to the present time is inferior to the parent races; or -at any rate to the white race. So the mulattoes of North America and the -West Indies, although superior in some respects to the pure negroes, -seem deficient in vitality and fertility, and the race does not maintain -itself. The Eurasians of India are commonly said to be a comparatively -feeble people. The blend of the Caucasian with the yellow race is also -generally of a poor type. Examples abound in Java of people of mixed -Javanese and Dutch blood; and they are for the most part feeble -specimens of humanity. It is generally recognised that a recently -blended stock may produce a few individuals of exceptional vigour and -capacity and physical beauty. But setting these aside, the blended stock -seems to be inferior in two respects: (1) a general lack of vigour, -which expresses itself in lack of power of resistance to many diseases -and in relative infertility; so that the blended stock can hardly -maintain its numbers; (2) a lack of harmony of qualities, both mental -and physical. It may be that such lack of harmony is the ground of the -relative infertility of blended stocks. It expresses itself in the -inharmonious combination of physical features, characteristic of the -mongrel. The negro race has a beauty of its own, which is spoilt by -blending. - -As regards mental constitution, although we cannot directly observe and -measure these disharmonies of composition, there seems good reason to -believe that they exist. The soul of the cross-bred is, it would seem, -apt to be the scene of perpetual conflict of inharmonious tendencies. -This has been the theme of many stories, and, though no doubt many of -them are overdrawn, there is no reason to doubt that they in the main -depict actual experience or are founded on close observation. - -It is on the moral, rather than the intellectual, side of the mind that -the disharmony seems to make itself felt most strongly; and the moral -detachment of the cross-bred from the moral traditions of both the -parent stocks is possibly due in part to a certain lack of innate -compatibility with those traditions, as well as to social ostracism; the -cross-bred can assimilate neither tradition so easily and completely as -the pure-bred stocks. - -It is possible, though this is a still more speculative view, that the -same is true of the intellectual constitution of the mind. - -The superiority of subraces formed by the blending of allied stocks -seems to fall principally under two heads: (1) a general vigour of -constitution; (2) a greater variety and variability of innate mental -qualities. The greater variability of qualities of a subrace renders -that race more adaptable to changing conditions; for racial adaptability -depends upon the occurrence of abundant spontaneous variations. A large -variety of innate qualities renders a race capable of progressing -rapidly in civilisation; it renders it more capable both of producing -novel ideas and of appreciating and assimilating the ideas, discoveries, -and institutions of other peoples; and such imitative assimilation from -one people to another has been a main condition of the progress of -culture. - -It is, of course, well recognised that the great centres of development -of culture have been the places where different peoples have come most -freely into contact, notably the centre of the old world where Asia, -Africa, and Europe meet together. This was the area in which the three -great races of Europe came first into contact and mingled freely. Some -authors attribute the fertilising influence upon culture wholly to the -blending or contact of cultures; but there is good reason to believe -that it is largely due also to race-blending. - -We might compare in this respect the three great culture areas of the -old world--Europe, India and China. The Chinese afford an instance of one -relatively pure race occupying a very large area. In spite of its early -start and great mental capacities, its culture has stagnated. The stock -was perhaps too pure. India on the other hand seems to owe its peculiar -history largely to the fact that its population in almost all parts has -been made up from very widely different races--white, yellow and black; -the heterogeneity has been too great for stability and continued -progress. In Europe different branches and sub-branches of the white -race, that is of stocks not too widely different in constitution, have -undergone repeated crossing and recrossing. - -It is worth while to point out that, if our generalisation is valid, it -follows that race-blending has been an important factor in the progress -of civilisation. And the generalisation has also an important bearing -upon one of the most urgent problems confronting the statesmen of the -world at the present time, and not only the statesmen but all the -citizens of the civilised states, especially the citizens of the British -Empire and of America. For it justifies abundantly the refusal of the -white inhabitants of various countries to admit immigrants of the yellow -or negro race to settle among them; and it justifies, and more than -justifies, the objection to intermarriage with those other races which -Englishmen have upheld wherever they have settled, and which most other -peoples have not upheld[120]. - -In all the currents of heated discussion as to the rights and wrongs of -the treatment of other races, this question of the kind of subrace which -will result from intermarriage is generally left in the background; -whereas its importance is far greater than that of all other -considerations taken together. Some, like Sir S. Olivier[121], are -content to approve race-blending on the ground that it improves the -inferior race. But the racial qualities of the leading peoples of the -world are too precious to be squandered in the process of improving in -some uncertain degree the quality of the overwhelming mass of humanity -of inferior stocks; the process would probably result in the total -destruction of all that humanity has striven and suffered for in its -nobler efforts. - -It is an interesting question--When two races or subraces are crossed, do -they ever produce a homogeneous and true subrace, exhibiting a true and -stable blend of the qualities of the parental stocks? Or does the blend -always remain imperfect, with many individuals in whom the qualities of -one or other of the parental stocks predominate? The answer seems to be -that a stable subrace may be formed in this way, though usually not -until free intermarriage has gone on for many generations. According to -the most recent doctrine of heredity, the Mendelian, every human being -is a mosaic or patchwork of unit qualities, organs, or capacities, each -of which is inherited wholly from one of the parents and not at all from -the other. If this view is well founded, it follows that there can be no -true blending of these unit qualities. But still the mosaic may be so -finely grained and the unit qualities derived from the two parents so -closely interwoven, that each individual may present an intimate mixture -of the parental qualities, may represent for all practical purposes a -blending of the two stocks. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -RACIAL CHANGES DURING THE HISTORIC PERIOD - - -We have found reason to believe that national character, as expressed in -the collective mental life of any people, is only to be understood and -explained when we take into account the native or racial mental -qualities of the people; and we have seen reason to think that these -racial qualities were in the main formed in the prehistoric or -race-making period; we have noted some of the principal attempts to -throw light on the prehistoric moulding of races. But these racial -qualities, although very persistent, are not unalterable. We must, -therefore, consider whether, and in what ways, the racial mental -qualities of a people may have been changed during the nation-making or -historic period. What are the factors which determine such changes? What -is their influence on the destiny of nations? - -The most diverse opinions are still held in regard to the question of -the extent and nature of changes of innate mental qualities of peoples -during the historic period, the period during which a people, or a -branch of a people, attains political unity and becomes a nation. - -There is no doubt that the moulding power of physical environment tends -to become greatly diminished during this more settled period of the life -of a people, and that, in so far as changes take place, they are -determined principally by racial substitutions and by social selections -within a people, rather than by the mere struggle for survival of -individuals or of family groups against the inclemency of nature or -against other individuals and groups. - -The former of these two modes of change, substitution, has undoubtedly -been effected on a large scale, producing in certain instances radical -changes in the racial quality of the populations of some countries; that -is to say, there has been more or less gradual substitution of one race -for another, while the nation as a geographical and political entity, -with its language and much of its laws, institutions, and customs, lives -on without complete breach of continuity, and the people, although by -blood radically changed, continues to regard itself as the same people, -accepting as its own the traditions of those predecessors whom they -mistakenly regard as their ancestors. - -Perhaps the most striking and complete change of this sort in European -history was the change of racial character of the Greek people. It is -now pretty well established that the Greek population of the classical -age was an incomplete blend of two of the three great European stocks, -namely _Homo Europaeus_, the northern, fair, long-headed type of tall -stature, and of _H. Mediterraneus_, the short dark long-headed type of -the Mediterranean coast lands. The Pelasgians, who, as we now know, had -achieved a civilisation of a type that was widely spread through -southern Europe as long as three thousand years or more before our era, -seem to have been of this Mediterranean race. - -Rather more than a thousand years before our era, the Pelasgian -population of Greece and the neighbouring regions began to be overrun -and conquered by tribes of the fair Northern race which came in -successive invasions, the Thracians, the Hellenes, the Achaeans, the -Ionians, and later the Dorians. Just as, at a later period, men of the -Northern race established themselves as a military aristocracy over the -Celtic peoples of western Europe, so these invading tribes established -themselves as a military aristocracy over the populations of -Mediterranean race; and, as in the former case, so here, they -intermarried largely with the people they conquered and formed an -imperfectly blended population, in the upper social strata of which the -fair type was predominant, in the lower strata the dark type. - -From this happy blending of two races was formed the people which, under -the favourable geographical and social conditions of that time and -place, evolved the civilisation that culminated after six hundred years -in the Athenian culture of the time of Pericles. And then, after a very -short time, the whole of that splendid civilisation faded away, and the -Greek people sank to a position of slight importance from which it has -never again risen. After having displayed in several departments of the -intellectual life a power and originality such as have never been -approached by any other people, they became a people of very mediocre -capacities, devoid of power of origination and purely imitative. - -That this profound change in the mental qualities of the population of -Greece was due to substitution of one racial stock by an inferior one is -beyond question. That a great change of racial type was effected is -sufficiently proved by the comparison of the physical type of the modern -with that of the ancient Greeks. The modern are predominantly dark and -round headed; the ancient were distinctly long headed, as shown by a -sufficient number of skull measurements; and they were, as regards the -dominant class at least, predominantly fair in colour. It has been -supposed that the many references to the fair hair and complexion of -heroes and gods were due to fair persons being very rare and hence an -object of special admiration; but there is no ground for this. The way -in which this racial substitution took place is also pretty clear; and -the rapid, almost sudden, decline of the intellectual productivity of -the Greek people coincided in time with the racial change. - -The first and most important factor in the extermination of the best -blood of ancient Greece was military selection. Military group selection -in the prehistoric period had, no doubt, played a great part in bringing -about the evolution of the superior mental qualities of the European -peoples, especially of the fair northern race. So long as the peoples -consisted of more or less wandering tribes of pure race, which waged a -war of extermination upon one another, the peoples and tribes of -superior mental and moral endowments must in the main have survived, -while those of inferior endowments went under. But, so soon as the -Nordic tribes became settled as aristocracies ruling over the Pelasgian -populations, the effects of military selection tended to be reversed; -instead of making for racial improvement, they made for deterioration. -That racial deterioration occurs under these conditions seems to be an -almost general law; it has been exemplified among many different -peoples. The many small Greek states were almost perpetually at war with -one another; and the result of the warfare was not so much the wholesale -extermination of the people of any one state, as the killing off in -large numbers of the younger men of the ruling caste, the free citizens -of whom the armies were almost entirely composed. - -The wars between Sparta and Athens were the most destructive and tragic -of all in this respect. We know that the numbers of Spartans of the -aristocratic class, never very large, became fewer and fewer, in spite -of efforts made to keep up the number by admitting to citizenship -persons not of pure Spartan blood; and that Sparta was eventually -destroyed simply for lack of men, men of the ruling class[122]. - -In Athens and other states the depleting agencies were more numerous. -Frequent wars played the same part as in Sparta; and the number of free -men was further diminished by the repeated founding of colonies, in -which a relatively small number of persons of Greek blood became -swallowed up in a large population of mixed and inferior origin. In some -states, in Athens especially, the political conditions worked powerfully -in the same direction. Prominent citizens were perpetually exiled or -condemned to death, sometimes in considerable batches. It is said that -at certain times two-thirds of the citizens of certain states were -living in exile; and the exiles, going to the colonies or other foreign -lands, were for the most part lost to the Greek people. - -Then, with the blooming period of Greek intellect, came the loss of the -ancient religious beliefs, beliefs which had strengthened the family and -made each man anxious to have many sons that the rites might be duly -performed for the repose of his shade. Coinciding with this was the -great increase of luxury which made large families too expensive, save -for the most wealthy; while at the same time the abundance of slave -labour kept down the rate of remuneration of all handicrafts, and so -condemned the class of free Greek artisans to a state bordering on -poverty. Hence, the free citizens of pure blood, already largely reduced -in numbers, ceased to multiply; and the number of the citizens was only -sustained by the admission to citizenship of foreigners, freed slaves, -and various elements of different and inferior racial origins. - -Hence, at the time that the battle of Chersonese was fought and the -Macedonians attained the supremacy, the Greek citizens were no longer -the same racial aristocracy which had produced the finest flowers of -Greek culture. But the work of substitution was still only partially -accomplished. In the time of the Roman domination of Greece, the -remnants of the true Greek aristocracy were removed by the slave trade. -Tens of thousands of Greeks of all classes were brought together to the -slave markets; while those men of talent who escaped that fate emigrated -to Rome to seek their fortunes by teaching the Greek language and art -and philosophy. Later still came the Goths, who sacked the towns and -destroyed or drove out the inhabitants. Then followed successive -invasions of Slavs from the north; and lastly, the domination of the -Turk well-nigh completed the extinction of the old aristocracy. - -The modern Greek people is descended largely from Slav invaders and -largely from the numerous and prolific slave population of the great age -of Greece, but hardly at all from the men who made the greatness of that -age. - -Though the change and deterioration of the racial mental qualities of -the Greek people by racial substitution is the most striking example in -history, it is by no means the only one[123]. - -The substitution in that case was largely by elements drawn from other -regions and peoples. But a similar substitution and consequent change of -innate mental qualities may go on slowly within any people which has -been formed, as have almost all the present European nations, by an -incomplete blending of two or more racial stocks; it may be effected by -internal selection without any introduction of new elements from any -other region. Before considering an example of the process, let us note -certain facts which show that there may well have taken place, -throughout the historic period, changes of the composition of peoples by -internal substitution or changes of the mental constitution by internal -selections--that is to say, by the more rapid multiplication of certain -mental types and the relative infertility of other types. Consider first -the striking fact that the populations of the various European countries -seem for the most part to have remained almost stationary as regards -numbers, or even in some cases to have diminished greatly in numbers, -throughout the period between the Roman domination and the later part of -the eighteenth century. The population of Spain is said to have declined -from forty millions under the Roman rule to only six millions in the -year 1700 A.D. The population of Great Britain is said to have increased -from five millions to six millions only during the seventeenth century; -and it is certain that in the main it had increased at an even slower -rate, or not at all, in the preceding centuries since the Norman -Conquest; whereas in the nineteenth century it increased from thirteen -millions to nearly forty millions; that is to say, it trebled itself in -the century; and even that rate of increase is considerably less than -the possible maximal rate. - -The same is roughly true for most of the European countries; their -populations, throughout great stretches of the historic period, remained -stationary or increased only very slowly. Now when, during any period, a -population does not multiply at the maximal physiological rate, changes -of its character may well be taking place; for, in proportion as the -rate of increase falls below the maximal, there is a lack of fertility -in the population or in some part of it; if this relative infertility -affects equally all parts and classes of the population, it will produce -no change of its composition; but if it is selective, if for any reason -it affects one class, or persons of some one kind of temperament or -mental type, more than others, then this class or this temperament or -this form of ability tends rapidly to diminish and to disappear from -among that people. - -The causes of the relative infertility may be divided into two classes: -(1) those which operate by killing persons before they have completed -their middle life; (2) those which restrict fertility without killing. -Both may be selective in their action. The former kind is alone -operative in determining evolution in the animal world and probably also -among the less civilised peoples; but, as civilisation advances, the -causes of infertility of the other kind increase constantly in -effectiveness, while the former operate with less and less intensity. It -is through the causes which diminish fertility merely, rather than -exterminate individuals, that changes of racial quality of nations are -now being, and in the future will be, principally determined. Selection -of this kind is usually distinguished from the various modes of natural -selection which work by extermination, by the name 'reproductive -selection.' Briefly, natural selection operates by means of selective -death rate, reproductive selection by means of selective birth rate. - -No doubt, disease, especially in the form of plagues and epidemics, was -one of the principal causes of the slowness of increase of population -throughout the Middle Ages. And this was probably non-selective as -regards mental qualities, although it was strongly selective as regards -power of resistance to disease, and has left the European peoples more -resistant to most diseases than any other peoples, save perhaps the -Chinese[124]. - -But many other causes of selection were at work. Disease presumably has -not affected mental qualities by selection; although by direct action -and mental discouragement it may have tended to the decay of -civilisations; it has been argued, for example, that malaria played a -great part in the decay of classical antiquity, that it was introduced -some centuries B.C. and enfeebled the population of Greece and Italy. - -More interesting, from our point of view of the influences affecting the -mental constitution of populations, is the effect of alcohol. Dr -Archdall Reid has argued very forcibly that resistance to the attraction -of alcohol is a mental peculiarity which a race only acquires through -long exposure to the influence of abundant alcohol; that populations are -resistant just in proportion to their past exposure to it--as is true in -the main of epidemic and endemic diseases--and that in both cases this -is due to selection.[125] - -Much careful painstaking work by continental anthropologists seems to -have proved that a change of racial composition through internal -selection has been and still is going on in both the German and French -people. The facts have been worked out by O. Ammon[126], Hensen and De -Lapouge[127]. They show, chiefly by means of the comparison of the forms -of large numbers of skulls, that throughout the historic period the -French and German peoples have been becoming more and more round headed, -that the type of _Homo Alpinus_, the short dark round-headed race, has -been gaining upon the type of _Homo Europaeus_. - -We have seen that the latter stock of the fair northern type constituted -the upper class among the Gauls of Caesar's time; and the invasions of -Franks and Normans must have added considerably to their numbers; yet, -in spite of that, the mental and physical characters of this race are -said by these authors to be now very much rarer than formerly, owing to -the internal selections which have favoured the Alpine type. These took -the following forms. In the first place, in the early Middle Ages, it is -said, the Nordic type, being a military aristocracy, suffered, as in -ancient Greece, proportionally far greater losses in warfare than the -Alpine type. Secondly, the severe persecutions of Protestants in France -drove into exile, besides killing many others, large numbers who were -for the most part of the fair race, because, as we have seen, this race -does not easily remain content within the Roman Church. It is said, for -example, that, after the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, so large a -number of Protestants passed into Prussia that the rise of Prussia as a -powerful State was the immediate consequence, with of course an -equivalent loss to France. De Lapouge considers this the greatest blow -that France has suffered in the historic period. Normandy alone, it is -reported, sent 200,000 Protestants to Prussia. But the most important -and curious factor has been, according to De Lapouge, what he calls the -selection by towns. He shows, by comparison of masses of anthropological -observations, that the Nordic type has been predominantly attracted to -the towns (which fact he attributes to their more restless enterprising -character) while the dark type has been more content to lead the quiet -agricultural life[128]. He points out that the town-life stimulates to a -new struggle for adaptation, from which differentiation of classes -results; the longheads maintain their numbers better and rise in the -social scale. Further, he shows that town-life makes against fertility, -owing to a number of psychological influences--the stimulation of -ambition and of the intellect, the luxurious habits, the weakening of -family life, the break with the past and its family traditions, the -uncertainty of the future, the weakening of religious sanctions; and he -gives reason to believe that in this way the towns have been, through -many generations, weeding out the elements of the fair race and -determining an ever increasing predominance of _Homo Alpinus_. - -In order to understand the importance of these internal selections, it -is necessary to realise that their effects are cumulative in a high -degree, when the same influences continue to work through many -generations. Thus, if within any people there are two equally numerous -classes of persons of different mental constitution, _A_ and _B_, and if -these constitutions determine that the one group _A_ has a net birth -rate of three children per pair of adults, while the other _B_ has a -birth rate of four per pair of parents; then, in the third generation -after one century, the numbers of the two classes, other things being -the same for both, will be as ten to sixteen. After two centuries the -one class will be more than twice as numerous as the other; and after -three centuries the numbers of the class _A_ will constitute about -fifteen per cent, only of the whole population. Late marriage is also -very important. Suppose that of two classes, _A_ marries at 35, and _B_ -at 25 years, and that each produces four children per marriage; then -(other things being the same) after three and a half centuries _B_ -becomes four times as numerous as _A_. These two factors generally work -together. - -But, apart from the change of racial composition of a heterogeneous -nation by internal selection of this sort, changes of the constitution -of even a racially homogeneous people may be produced through selection -affecting persons of particular mental tendencies. One of the most -striking instances of this is the elimination of the religious -tendencies from the constitution of a people by negative selection -through the action of the Roman Church[129]. For many centuries the -Roman Church has attracted to her service very large numbers of those -who were by nature most religiously minded, and it has imposed celibacy -upon them, it has forbidden them to transmit their natural piety to -descendants. In Protestant countries this process of negative selection -of the religious tendencies was continued for a much briefer period than -in the Catholic countries. It is maintained with much plausibility that -we may see the result in the fact that sincere and natural piety is far -commoner in the Protestant countries than in the Roman Catholic; that in -the two countries Italy and Spain, in which the influence of the Roman -Church has been greater than in any others, the people are now the least -religiously minded of any in Europe; that with them religion has become -purely formal and external, that the mass of the people, though -outwardly conforming, is absolutely irreligious; that in fact this form -of religion tends to exterminate itself in the long run by insisting -upon that form of reproductive selection[130]. - -Another striking instance of the incidence of negative selection upon -certain mental qualities of a people is afforded by the history of -Spain. In the sixteenth century Spain attained to a supreme position of -power and grandeur among the nations of the world, such as has been -rivalled by Rome alone in all history; and then very rapidly her power -decayed, and ever since she has remained one of the most backward of -European peoples, contributing little to European culture, to science, -art or philosophy, incapable of developing without the aid of foreigners -her rich industrial resources, impotent in war, entirely devoid of -enterprise and originality. To what is this great change due? - -It is not due to any adverse change of climate, to devastation by war or -plague or famine, nor is it due to any change in geographical or -economic relations. Spain remains more happily situated as a centre of -commerce than any other country of the world. The mass of the people -remains vigorous, proud, and virile. It is the intellect of the nation -alone which has decayed, or rather it is the intellectual life of the -nation that has become utterly stagnant. - -Buckle drew a vivid picture of the stagnation of the Spanish intellect -and sought the explanation of it in the great power wielded by the Roman -Catholic Church, which, he said, had successfully fostered the spirit of -protection and superstition, had discouraged every effort of the -intellect, and utterly repressed the spirit of inquiry, to the free -activity of which all progress of civilisation was, in his opinion, due. -Here, again, modern science shows that Buckle was led into error by his -ignorance of the importance of the biological factors, the racial -qualities and the changes produced in them by selection. - -Galton and, still more fully, Fouillée have shown that the stagnation of -the intellect of the Spanish people and the consequent decay of the -power and glory of Spain have been chiefly due to the fact that the -people of Spain ceased to produce those men of exceptional mental -endowments, of intellectual energy and enterprise and independence of -character, on whom primarily depend the power and prosperity of any -nation and who are the most essential factors in the progress of the -civilisation of any people, who in short are essential for the growth -and endurance of national mind and character. And this was because -during some centuries intellectual power, enterprise, and energy were -steadily weeded out by a rigorous process of negative selection. In the -first place, the Church, having attained enormous power, became in two -ways a tremendous agency of negative selection. First, she made celibate -priests of a very large proportion of all those whose natural bent was -towards the things of the mind, multiplying monastic orders excessively. -Secondly, by means of the Inquisition she destroyed with fire and sword -or drove into exile through many generations all those who would not -conform to her narrow creed, who combined intellectual power with -independence and originality of spirit and a firm will. In addition she -drove out all the Jews and all of Moorish origin. - -The second mode of negative selection, namely persecution exerted by the -Church, was no doubt the more important, but the former also must have -had a great effect. We are helped to realize the probable magnitude of -the effect by reflection on facts set out in an article by Bishop -Welldon[131]. He shows the great part played in English civilisation -since the reformation by the sons of the English Clergy; including as -they did a number of men of the highest achievements in all departments -of our national life. If all those sons of clergy who have shown -exceptional abilities, and all their descendants, had by the rule of -celibacy been prevented from coming into existence, how disastrous would -that have been for the English people, how much less successful and -vigorous would the nation have become! - -A second powerful agency of negative selection was the immense colonial -empire which Spain so rapidly acquired, especially her American -conquests. The whole people was seized with the desire to enrich -themselves with the gold of the New World, and was fascinated by the -idea of imitating the romantic adventures of Cortes and Pizarro. Great -numbers of the bolder and most capable spirits set out for the New -World, and there either lost their lives or remained to mix their blood -with that of the native Indians or the imported negroes. In either case -their stock was lost to the mother country. - -The third and culminating cause was the career of military aggression -pursued by Charles V; this completed the extermination of the -aristocracy of ability and finally plunged Spain into an intellectual -torpor which has persisted ever since and from which she can only be -raised up by a succession of men of first-rate intellect and character: -men such as she seems incapable of producing, because her people has -thus been drained of all its most valuable elements, because her eugenic -stocks have been exterminated. - -The fall of Spain illustrates not only the operation of internal social -selection affecting certain mental qualities; it illustrates also once -more, even more clearly than the fall of Greece, the fact that the -civilisation of a people and its power and position in the world depend -altogether upon its intellectual aristocracy, and that the fall of a -people from a high place necessarily follows the failure to continue to -produce such an aristocracy. - -In the civilised nations of the modern world, the most important kind of -selection at work at the present time is what is distinguished as -'economic selection' working in conjunction with the formation of the -social classes. It has no doubt operated at various times among other -civilised peoples, but never so strongly and universally as at present. - -All the leading civilised nations have passed, in the eighteenth and -earlier part of the nineteenth centuries, through a period in which the -discoveries of science have enormously increased the productive powers -of man and man's control over, and power of resistance to, the forces of -nature. The result has been that everywhere civilised populations have -multiplied at a great rate, in a way that has never before occurred. But -now this period seems to have definitely come to an end, and to have -been succeeded by a new period characterised by three features which -threaten to exert a most deleterious effect upon the innate mental -qualities of peoples. - -(1) The world is becoming filled up; the untouched wealth of enormous -territories no longer lies open to the grasp of the bold and -enterprising. The coloured races are entering into the economic -competition in the way foreshadowed by the late C. H. Pearson[132]. The -high organisation of every form of economic activity renders the -competition for wealth everywhere extremely severe. And at the same time -men have come to regard as necessities of life what, but a few -generations ago, were the luxuries of the wealthy or unknown even to -them; that is to say, the standard of comfort has risen greatly. The -combined result of these changes is the increased difficulty of -maintaining a family in the upper strata of society. - -(2) There has been a great development of humanitarian sentiment, one -result of which has been the breaking down of class-barriers and the -perfecting of the social ladder; at the same time it has produced such -changes of our laws and institutions as tend in an ever increasing -degree to lighten the economic burdens of the poor and to consummate by -social organisation the abolition of natural selection; that is to say, -these changes are putting a stop to the repression by natural laws of -the multiplication of the less fit, those least well endowed mentally -and physically. The recent great decline of infant mortality is one -evidence of this. - -(3) The influence of religion and custom has weakened, and men are more -disposed to adopt the naturalistic point of view, to believe that this -life is not a mere preparation for an infinitely longer life elsewhere, -but that it is all they can certainly reckon upon and, therefore, is to -be made the most of; while at the same time they are oppressed by the -severity of the economic competition and by a sense of the lack of any -ultimate purpose, end, or sanction of human effort. - -The combined result of these three changes is a strong tendency to -reverse the operation by which nature has secured the evolution of -higher types of mind--namely, by breeding in the main from the higher -types in each generation. We see a tendency for the population to be -renewed in each generation preponderantly from the mentally inferior -elements, those whose outlook hardly extends beyond the immediate -future and who have not learnt to demand for themselves and their -children favoured positions in the great game of life. The effects of -these three changes operate in the following manner. The rate of -reproduction, the birth rate, of nearly all civilised countries is -falling rapidly (although the death rate also falls). This diminution of -rate of reproduction is due to increase of celibacy, abstention from -marriage, to increase of late marriage, and to voluntary restriction of -the number of the family in marriage. - -Now, it is shown statistically that this falling off of fertility -chiefly affects the classes above the average of ability, the upper and -middle classes and also the superior part of the artisan classes[133]. -These classes have been formed and are maintained by the operation of -social and economic competition; they have long been, and are still, -perpetually recruited in each generation from the lower strata, by the -rise into them of the abler members of the lower strata. Hence, economic -selection, under our present social system, seems to be working strongly -for the mental deterioration of the most highly civilised peoples; the -social ladder, becoming more nearly perfect, perpetually drains the mass -of a people of its best members, enabling them to rise to the upper -strata where they tend to become infertile[134]. Galton and Prof. Karl -Pearson have insisted most strongly upon these tendencies. But they have -not escaped the notice of continental authors. M. Jacobi[135] has -written a large volume packed with historical illustrations to prove -inductively the law that aristocracies always die out, or are only -maintained by constant recruiting from below, or in other words that -aristocracies tend to become infertile. And the modern tendency which we -have just now considered under the head of economic selection may be -regarded as falling under the head of this law, a case of the extension -of the law to democratic communities and the natural aristocracies of -ability which are generated in them. - -We may perhaps state the principal causes of this tendency in general -terms as follows: the acquirement by any class of leisure, culture, and -the habit of reflection (the malady of thought) partially emancipates -that class from the empire of instinct, custom, and the religious -sanctions of morality; and these are the great conservative agencies -under the influence of which men not so emancipated continue to multiply -according to the law of nature. These instincts, customs, and religious -sanctions of morality, which lead men to multiply freely, have been -acquired for the good of the race or of the society considered as an -organism whose life is of indefinitely long duration; and in some -respects they are opposed to the pleasure and welfare of the individual -life. The habit of reason and reflection tends to lead men to act for -their own immediate welfare, rather than for the future welfare of the -race or of society, and to refuse to make those sacrifices of ease and -to undertake those responsibilities and efforts which the care of a -family imposes and which alone can secure the welfare of the future -generations. It is in respect to these duties that the great antagonism -between religion and reason appears in its most significant aspect. - -The tendency for the upper classes to die out and to be replaced -constantly from the lower social strata by the aid of the social ladder -is no doubt stronger now than in foregoing ages. But it has always been -operative; and this is widely recognised; while the comfortable -inference has often been drawn that the process is not only inevitable -but actually beneficial and desirable. It is said that the upper classes -inevitably become effete, and that the lower constitute an inexhaustible -reservoir of mental and moral excellences, from which they are and can -be indefinitely renewed; and thus the population is always rising in the -social scale, a state of affairs which makes for social happiness. - -But, if we take a longer view, the prospect is not so comforting; it -seems only too probable that this constant dying away of society at the -top and the renewal of the upper strata from the lower, by the agency of -the social ladder, must sooner or later result in a serious -deterioration of the lower strata, at least in draining it of its best -stocks. There is also a return or downward current of less strength, -which returns to the lower strata the failures, the incompetents, and -the degenerates of the upper. And these two currents must, it would -seem, in the course of ages render it impossible for the lower strata to -continue to supply the superior elements required to maintain the upper. -If and when that stage is reached, national decay must set in. - -In England, where the operation of the social ladder has been more -effective and of longer duration than in any other country, there are -indications that this stage is at hand. Our social ladder has provided -and still provides a splendid array of talent, but already it has -produced, as its complement, a large mass of very inefficient -population. Foreign observers are constantly impressed with this; Mr -Collier Price[136], for example, tells us that the million best of our -population is the finest in the world; but that our lowest stratum is -the most degraded and hopelessly inefficient. - -Looking at the course of history widely, we may see, then, in the -differentiation of social classes by the social ladder and in the -tendency of the upper strata to fail to reproduce themselves, an -explanation of the cyclic course of civilisation. This has been ascribed -by some authors[137] to race-crossing, followed by blending, and -ultimately by stagnation consequent upon complete blending and the -flowering period which coincides with it. But we now have a more -adequate explanation of the decay which follows upon the blooming -period. It is not mere stagnation, resulting from the achievement of -social harmony and the relaxation of efforts at social adaptation and -achievement of all kinds. The decline is probably due as much, and -perhaps in a much higher degree, to the exhaustion of the mass of the -population, the completion of the draining process by which, throughout -the whole period of the development of the cycle of civilisation, the -best elements and strains have been drained off from the lower strata, -brought to the top, and strained off. - -It is interesting to speculate on the possible effect on this process of -the fact that we are becoming more clearly conscious of these tendencies -and subjecting them to scientific inquiry. Already the legislature has -taken one small step of a eugenic nature and is soon to take another. -The important thing is that we should recognise that men are not the -helpless sport of blind forces, that mankind can control its own destiny -in ever increasing degree as knowledge grows. - -A word may be said in regard to sexual selection, which probably played -a part in the evolution of the mental capacities of men. It would seem -that, in the peoples among whom monogamy is the rule, it no longer -operates to any appreciable degree. With the general excess of females, -we could suppose that it still tended to race improvement only if the -unmarried women were on the whole distinctly inferior to the married. -But, if there is any difference, it is probably the other way; because -the most able women are more and more attracted into independent -careers. The further the so-called emancipation of women goes, the more -will this be the case. - -Civilisation, then, tends from the first to put an end to that -elimination of the less fit individuals by the severities of Nature -which we call natural selection; and, as soon as it has passed beyond -its earliest stages, it brings to an end also the mortal conflicts of -social groups and the consequent group selection, which was in all -probability a main factor of racial progress in the prehistoric period. -It abolishes also at an early stage the improving influence of sexual -selection, which was probably the third principal condition of the -development of the higher powers of mankind. - -Civilisation replaces these modes of selection, which make for -improvement of the racial qualities of peoples, by a number of modes of -social selection, nearly all of which must have been, so far as we can -see, negative or reversed selections--that is, selections making for -deterioration of the mental qualities of the civilised peoples. In place -of natural selection, group selection, and sexual selection, we have had -at work, within each people in increasing degrees, various forms of -social selection--military selection, selection by the towns, selection -by the church, political selection with its exiles and its colonial -system, and lastly economic selection, which has become exceedingly -influential in recent years among ourselves. And all these, so far as -can be seen, have operated mainly, among some peoples and in some ages -very powerfully, to diminish the fertility of the best elements of the -population and so to produce actual retrogression of the average -intellectual capacity of peoples, and especially to deprive them of -eugenic stocks, the stocks which were most fertile in individuals of -exceptional capacity on whom the progress of civilisation and the -relative power of nations chiefly depend. - -M. de Lapouge's investigations of the matter have led him to a very -melancholy conclusion. He attaches especial importance to urban -selection, as he calls it, in weeding out the best stocks. He -writes--"There is no more agonising question than that of the exhaustion -of our intellectual reserves by the influence of city-life. The public -and our statesmen do not suspect it. But nevertheless it is the great -danger of modern societies and especially of France. Of all the -devastating influences which we have called social selections, selection -by the town makes most powerfully for deterioration of peoples. Our -towns are destroying all of the intelligent and energetic that have been -spared us by the long centuries of disastrous selections. France has -lost in the past almost all her dolicho-blond elements, and now are -disappearing those of mixed stock and the best of the short-headed type. -In all the continent of Europe the hour is at hand when there will -remain only the inert and used up débris of our dead nations, pitiable -remnants who will be the prey of unknown conquerors. Thus perished the -Hellenic world, thus will perish the whole of our civilisation, if man -does not make application of his knowledge of the principles of -heredity, that tremendous power which to-day is bringing death and -stagnation, but by the control of which science will enable us to secure -safety and national vigour[138]." - -It is possible that this conclusion gives too dark a picture of the -tendencies of social selection in the civilised nations; but it does -seem probable that with the advance of civilisation the tendency to -reversed selection becomes strong[139]. We are at any rate compelled to -conclude that it is impossible to discover evidence of any influences -that can have made at all strongly for progressive evolution of -intellectual capacity during the historic period; whereas a number of -forms of selection seem to have worked against it and must at least have -counterbalanced any factors making for improvement, and that therefore -no advance has taken place in intellectual capacity but more probably -some deterioration has already occurred. - -The conclusion thus reached deductively is well borne out by the small -amount of inductive evidence that is available. Such comparison as we -can make between the leading modern nations and the civilised nations of -antiquity tends rather to show that both as regards the average man, and -as regards the intellectual endowment of exceptional men and the -proportion of such men produced, the advantage lies with the ancient -peoples. And the comparison of skull capacity or size of brain decidedly -supports this conclusion. It has been found by a number of -anthropologists that the average skull capacity of men of the late Stone -Age in Europe was equal to, or greater than, that of modern Europeans. -And in the main, on the large average, intellectual capacity varies with -the size of the brain. - -Our seeming intellectual superiority is a superiority of the traditional -store of intellectual gains, a superiority of knowledge and of the -instruments of the intellect, of language, and of the methods of mental -operation by which knowledge is obtained, especially the mathematical -and scientific methods in general[140]. Consider a single example -frequently quoted to show the intellectual inferiority of the modern -savage. It is said--Here is a poor savage who cannot count above ten -without the help of his fingers and toes or other tallies; and we -generally forget that we also should be incapable of counting above ten, -had not our ancestors slowly devised the system of enumeration or verbal -counting, and that, given such a system, the poor savage would be able -to count as well as any of us. - -The reader may be prepared to accept this conclusion as regards the -intellectual capacities of mankind, and yet may be inclined to -say--Surely the civilised peoples have progressed as regards their moral -qualities throughout the historic period! Let us, therefore, consider -this point separately for a moment. - -Is there reason to believe that there has been progress of the innate -moral disposition during the historic period? Here we are on still more -difficult ground than when we considered the question of the progress of -innate intellectual capacity. - -The essence of the higher morality is the predominance of the altruistic -motives over the egoistic, in the deliberately reasoned control of -conduct. But morality in this sense is relatively rare in every age, and -the great mass of moral conduct of men in general is the issue of mental -processes of a simpler kind; it consists in doing what one believes to -be right, in acting according to what one believes to be one's duty; no -matter how that belief may have been arrived at. The tendency to do what -one believes to be right, which for the vast majority of men has always -been simply the tendency to conform to the code of morals accepted by -his society, has an innate basis which may properly be called the social -or moral disposition. At present I am not concerned to define the -elements of our nature which make up the moral disposition[141]. The -morality of a people, objectively considered, is the outcome of the -interaction between their moral disposition, on the one hand, and the -moral environment of the individuals, on the other; and the latter -consists of two parts: (1) the traditional system of precepts, customs, -laws, in short the code: (2) the traditional system of sanctions by -which the code is upheld and enforced. - -If we compare, in respect to this moral nature, the members of primitive -societies with those of highly civilised societies, applying simply the -criterion of conformity of conduct to the accepted code, we shall be -impelled to the conclusion that the former, the savages and barbarians, -have in general the moral nature much more highly developed than the -members of civilised societies; for they conform on the whole very much -more strictly to their moral codes. But such a conclusion would be -hardly fair to the civilised peoples; first, because their social -environment is more complex, so that the bearing of their moral code is -less simple and direct; it is less easily obeyed, because its teachings -are more generalised in form and do not provide clear irresistible -rulings for all or any large proportion of the much greater variety of -situations with which individuals find themselves confronted. Secondly, -because the code is a higher one and makes greater demands upon the -self-control of individuals. Thirdly, because not only is the code less -clear and direct, but also the sanctions of conduct, civil and -religious, are generally less obvious and immediate; and the -effectiveness of both code and sanctions is weakened by the -co-existence, within complex civilised societies, of more or less rival -codes and systems of sanctions, which inevitably weaken the authority of -one another; whereas the code and sanctions of the savage or barbarous -society reign absolutely and without rivalry, so that men are not led to -question their authority. - -The conditions of moral conduct are, then, so different as to forbid any -attempt to compare the innate moral dispositions of primitive and -civilised peoples; and all we can do, in order to arrive at an opinion, -is to consider whether the conditions have been such as to favour the -evolution of the moral disposition, the innate basis of the social -tendencies, during the nation-making period. - -There can, I think, be no doubt that the principal condition of the -evolution of the moral nature was group selection among primitive -societies constantly at war with one another. In conflicts of that kind -it must have been the solidarity of each group, resting upon the moral -dispositions of individuals, the tendency of each individual to conform -to the law and moral code of the society and to stand loyally by his -leaders and comrades, which, more than anything else, determined success -and survival in the struggle of the group for existence. At first, the -nature of the code must have been of relatively small importance; the -all important condition of survival of the group must have been the -strict obedience to it on the part of the members of the group. - -This is not a deduction only from general principles. One may observe -the effect of tribal conflict, on comparing, in various parts of the -world, tribes that have long been subjected to its influence with -closely allied tribes that have long led a peaceful existence[142]. - -At a later stage, as the traditional codes of morality became -differentiated and more complex with the increasing complexity of -societies, the nature of these codes must have acquired an increasing -influence in determining group survival; but it must still have been -subordinate in importance to the degree of development of the moral -disposition; for a society with an inferior moral code, strictly -conformed to by its members, would in the long run have better chances -of survival than one with a higher code less strictly observed. Hence, -the higher more difficult codes could only be attained by those peoples -among whom the instinctive basis of social conduct had become highly -evolved by a long process of group selection. - -But, on passing into the stage of settled societies of large extent, -that is to say, as peoples passed from the stage of tribal organisation -to that of national organisation, the evolution of the social -disposition through the mortal conflict of groups must have tended to -come to an end; because group selection became less active, the -conflicts between the larger and less numerous societies or groups -became rarer and also less fatal to the vanquished societies. In other -words, during the historic period failure in conflict has not usually -meant extermination; national cultures and the power and glory of -nations have come and gone, but the various peoples, the units of -conflict, have in the main survived their failures and persisted in -living. Group selection, the main condition of evolution of the social -disposition, has, therefore, been abolished; and of the various forms of -social selection operating within societies, the chief of which we have -briefly noticed, no one seems to have been of a nature to produce -further evolution of the social disposition; all of them must rather -have operated adversely to it. Military selection, selection by the -Church's rule of celibacy, political selection--all these must have -fallen most heavily on the individuals in whom the social disposition -was strong, whose conduct was influenced largely by the sense of duty, -and less by the individual impulses and desires. - -We may conclude, then, with some confidence that there has not been -further evolution of the innate moral disposition in the historic -period. This conclusion is greatly at variance with popular conceptions; -we are apt to pride ourselves upon our superior morality; to point to -our humanitarian laws and institutions, to our tenderness for the weak, -the poor, and the suffering; to our regard even for the welfare of -savage peoples, whom we no longer deliberately exterminate, and for -domestic animals; and to suppose that all this shows modern civilised -men to be innately superior in morality to their ancestors and to the -barbarous peoples. But our conclusion that the difference implies merely -an evolution of moral tradition, not of moral nature, will appear -probable if we reflect upon the fact that a widespread change of this -kind in respect to some department of conduct has sometimes been -produced within a very short space of time, even within the lifetime of -one generation. Take the attitude of Englishmen towards slavery and the -African slave trade. It is hardly more than half a century since large -numbers of Englishmen, or men of English origin, owned great gangs of -slaves or drew their wealth from slave labour; yet now most of us look -with horror upon slavery of every kind. Take the case of kindness to -domestic animals. It is a comparatively recent tradition; and, within -the memories of those who are not yet middle-aged, a great improvement -has taken place. Again, there are many persons who, while tender to -their domestic animals, are entirely brutal where wild animals are -concerned, since public opinion or traditional morality does not yet -bear so strongly upon our relations to them. Again, it is not long since -in our factories, our prisons, our schools, the most horrible tortures -were applied to our fellow citizens without provoking any protest; while -now we display perhaps an excessive tenderness and have passed law after -law to protect the feeble against the strong. - -The mental development of peoples in the historic period has, therefore, -not consisted in, nor been caused by, nor in all probability has it -been accompanied by, any appreciable evolution of innate intellectual or -moral capacities beyond the degrees achieved in the race-making period, -before the modern nations began to take shape. There is no reason to -think that we are intellectually or morally superior by nature to our -savage ancestors. Such superiority of morals and intellectual power as -we enjoy has resulted from the improvement and extension of the -intellectual and moral traditions and the accompanying evolution of -social organisation. - -A different conclusion was reached by the late Benjamin Kidd in his -_Social Evolution_, which has enjoyed a very wide circulation[143], and -it seems worth while therefore to examine very briefly the author's -position. Mr Kidd saw clearly and argued convincingly that the innate -intellectual capacities have not improved during the historic period; -but he held that the innate moral tendencies have been greatly improved -during this period; or rather he distinguished between the innate moral -tendencies and the innate religious tendencies; and, while rejecting -Herbert Spencer's view that the moral tendencies (as thus arbitrarily -distinguished from the religious tendencies) are slowly becoming -improved and strengthened in the civilised peoples, he held that the -innate religious tendencies are being greatly improved and strengthened; -and he regarded this as the underlying condition of all 'social -evolution.' In support of his view he cited an impressive array of facts -illustrating the general softening of manners and morals among the -civilised peoples, especially the legislative changes which have given -political power to the masses of the people. That these evidences of a -general softening of manners and a great extension of social sympathy -are very striking we must all agree; but Kidd advanced no serious -argument in favour of his contention that these changes have been due to -some change or improvement of the innate qualities of the peoples among -whom they have appeared. And he did not suggest any way in which this -alleged improvement or accentuation of the innate religious tendencies -may have been brought about. He attributed it wholly to the influence of -the Christian religion. Now, if Kidd had accepted the Lamarckian -principle of the transmission of acquired tendencies or effects of use -and habit, he might reasonably have attributed the alleged improvement -to such influence. But he sternly rejected that principle and proclaimed -himself a rigid exponent of the Neo-Darwinian school, which attributes -all racial changes to selection. He even assumed the truth of the -doctrine that, in the absence of selective processes making for its -improvement, every race must inevitably degenerate. It might, then, have -been expected that he would have attempted to show how Christianity can -be supposed to have favoured the improvement by selection of the innate -religious tendencies. Yet he made no attempt in this direction. He seems -to have been aware that his view encounters a great difficulty in the -fact that Christianity powerfully swayed the peoples of Europe for many -centuries during which little or no progress in civilisation was -effected, whereas rapid and accelerating progress of many kinds has -marked the last three centuries. He sought to meet this difficulty by -attributing the rapid progress of recent centuries to the influence of -the Protestant form of Christianity, alleging that it promotes the -evolution of the religious tendencies more powerfully than other forms. -Yet this view of the matter, even if it were acceptable, would leave the -Reformation itself quite unexplained. Kidd seems to hint that, -throughout the earlier centuries of the dominance of the Christian -religion in Europe, it was slowly effecting the alleged improvement of -the religious tendencies in the mass of the people, without these being -able to manifest themselves in social life, until they somehow broke -loose at the time of the Reformation and began for the first time to -operate on a great scale and with tremendous force. The view might have -some plausibility coming from the mouth of a disciple of Lamarck, but it -cannot be reconciled with Kidd's strictly Neo-Darwinian principles. -There is, then, nothing in Kidd's grandiloquent and loosely reasoned, -but always interesting pages, to justify any belief in the improvement -of the innate moral disposition during the historic period[144]. - -Before leaving this difficult question of the extent and nature of -changes in the innate qualities of peoples during the historic period, I -would define in the following way the position that seems to me to be -well founded. There have been no considerable changes of innate -qualities; and what changes have occurred have probably been of the -nature of retrogression, rather than of advance or improvement; and this -is true of both intellectual and moral qualities. The improvements of -civilised peoples are wholly improvements of the intellectual and moral -traditions. All the great and obvious changes of social life are in the -main changes of these traditions. Nevertheless, such differences of -innate qualities as exist between the different peoples are very -important, because of their cumulative influence upon their traditions. -And, especially, the innate superiorities of the leading peoples, though -relatively small, are of essential significance; and it is of the first -importance for the future prosperity of the great nations of the present -time that they should not suffer any deterioration of their innate -qualities; for they alone have attained just such a level of innate -excellence as renders possible the existence of civilisation and the -growth and continued progress of great nations. Especially is it -essential that they should continue to produce in large numbers those -persons of exceptional moral and intellectual endowments, whose -influence alone can maintain the vitality of the national traditions and -who alone can add anything of value to them. - - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -THE PROGRESS OF NATIONS IN THEIR YOUTH - - -We have found reason to believe that during the historic period the -peoples of Europe have made no progress in innate qualities, moral or -intellectual; yet that period has been characterised by immense mental -development, a development essentially of the collective mind. The most -striking result of the formation of nations and the development of -civilisation has been this replacement of the progress of the individual -mind by the progress of the collective national mind. And the most -interesting and important problem of group psychology is--What are the -conditions of the progressive development of the collective mind? - -I insist that this is distinctly and primarily a psychological problem. -The conclusion we have just reached, to the effect that it is not -produced by and does not imply a racial evolution, shows that it is not -to be regarded as a biological problem. It cannot be treated as a -problem of economics or of politics; these sciences only touch its -fringe at special points. - -We have before us the significant fact that in some cases the collective -mind of a nation has remained stationary at a rudimentary stage of -development for long ages; while in other nations the collective mind -has developed at a constantly accelerating rate, becoming more highly -differentiated and specialised and at the same time more highly -integrated, has in fact developed in a way closely analogous to the -evolution of the individual mind. The collective mind, in thus -developing, reacts upon the development of individual minds, raising all -far above the level they could independently attain and some in each -generation to a very high level both intellectually and morally. - -The merest outline of a discussion of this great problem is alone -possible. I can do no more than offer some suggestions toward the full -solution of it. Let us note, first, that continued progress, far from -being the rule, as is commonly assumed by popular writers, has been a -rare exception, as Sir H. Maine pointed out in _Ancient Law_. He -wrote--"In spite of overwhelming evidence, it is most difficult for a -citizen of Western Europe to bring thoroughly home to himself the truth -that the civilisation which surrounds him is a rare exception in the -history of the world." "It is indisputable that much the greatest part -of mankind has never shown a particle of desire that its civil -institutions should be improved, since the moment when external -completeness was first given to their embodiment in some permanent -record. Except in a small section of the world, there has been nothing -like the gradual amelioration of a legal system." And what is true of -systems of law is true of all the other elements of the intellectual and -moral tradition which constitute a civilisation or national culture. - -Sir H. Maine added--"The difference between the stationary and -progressive societies is, however, one of the great secrets which -inquiry has yet to penetrate." His own contribution, which he regarded -as a partial solution only, was that the difference depends in part upon -the period at which the customs of a people become codified in written -law. If, as the tribes of a people become settled and enter upon a -national existence, there is no written code of law and custom, customs, -he urged, which at their origin were socially advantageous tend to -become extended by analogy to other fields of practice and to assume an -excessive and senseless rigour; for example, the custom of cleanliness -becomes the exceedingly elaborate ritual of purification, which among -the Hindus limits and restrains social life at every point. Or a useful -distinction of classes becomes a rigid caste system, than which nothing -is more prejudicial to progress, intellectual or moral. The continuation -of the process of extension by analogy through long ages has resulted in -nearly all the uncivilised and less civilised peoples of the modern -world being bound down on every hand by a system of rigid and worse than -useless customs, which, restricting both thought and action, render -progress impossible. On the other hand, early codification of custom in -a system of written laws secures that thereafter custom shall not -develop in this blind unintelligent and socially prejudicial manner, but -shall be developed only by deliberate intention and the reasoned -fore-thought of the ruling powers of society; it will then develop in -the main, in spite of many mistakes, in a way which promotes the -efficiency of social life and the welfare of society. - -Maine's suggestion is in harmony with the fact that the progressive -peoples have not been those who invented or learnt the art of writing at -an early period. Writing and the written codification of customary law -could not be invented by any people until they had attained to a settled -life and a considerable degree of social organisation; and then, when -the invention was worked out sufficiently, the damage had been done, -socially advantageous customs had already degenerated into useless rites -and ceremonial observances; and writing served only to establish these -more firmly, to fix their yoke upon the necks of the people, as in the -case of the Hindus. - -On the other hand, the progressive peoples have been those who remained -in a savage or barbarous condition until a relatively late period, and -who then acquired by imitation the arts of writing and of reducing -custom to written law, acquired them in a fully developed condition from -the peoples who had invented and developed these arts. They have, -therefore, enjoyed the advantages of written laws from the beginning of -their civilisation. - -But, as Maine recognised, the acquisition of writing at the outset of -national life is by no means sufficient to account for the -progressiveness of the nations of South and Western Europe; we must seek -other causes and conditions of their mental progress. - -We have already noted certain features of the racial constitution which -were probably essential to the continued progress of the European -peoples--namely, the high degree of evolution of the social disposition -through group selection in the long prehistoric or race-making period; a -group selection which probably was far more severe and prolonged than -the peoples of any other part of the world were subjected to; and which -in turn was due probably, as we have seen, to the great diversity of -physical surroundings and to the comparative severity of the climate of -Europe, especially of the northerly parts in which the most progressive -European race was formed; for these physical conditions generated in the -race an innate energy, a capacity for sustained effort. - -Without the highly developed social disposition in the mass of their -members, primitive societies could not have survived those changes of -custom and institution which were essential features of their progress. -Without their innate energy, active rivalry and competition, which have -been chief factors in social progress, would not have been constant -features of the relations of these societies. Still the possession of a -highly evolved social disposition by the European peoples does not in -itself suffice to account for the continued mental evolution of the -leading nations. For not all the European peoples have progressed; and, -of those that have progressed, some have done so much more effectively -than others. - -Let us first examine the question--In what has progress primarily -consisted? Has it been primarily a progress of the moral or of the -intellectual traditions? As I mentioned in an earlier chapter, we have -here one of the main points of dispute. - -Buckle was the great advocate of the primacy of intellectual development -in the sense of increase of natural knowledge. The argument by which he -sought to establish the position runs as follows: Progress must have -been due to improvement either of moral or of intellectual principles. -But moral principles have been almost the same in all ages. "To do good -to others; to love your neighbour as yourself; to honour your -parents--these and a few others, are the sole essentials of morals; but -they have been known for thousands of years, and not one jot or tittle -has been added to them by all the sermons, homilies and text-books which -moralists and theologians have been able to produce." On the other hand, -knowledge and intellectual principles have made immense strides; hence -all progress must have been primarily intellectual rather than moral. -Buckle did not deny that there has been some moral progress; rather he -insisted upon it as an essential feature of the progress of -civilisation; but it has, according to him, consisted only in the more -effective operation of unchanging principles, and this more effective -operation is secondary to, and due to, intellectual progress. - -I think we must agree with Buckle that the increasing store of knowledge -and the increased command over nature that comes with it has been the -primary condition of the progress of nations. For, since the early -middle ages, the moral natures of men and the teaching of Christianity -have been the same in all essentials; yet for many centuries there was -practically no progress. Kidd himself admitted that progress only set in -rapidly about the time of the Reformation. And it is notorious that this -progress, including the Reformation itself, was due to the stimulation -of the intellect by a number of influences--by the renewed study of -classical art and literature, by the discovery of the New World, by the -increased intercourse of nations resulting from the improvement of the -art of navigation, by the accumulation of wealth and the formation of a -powerful middle class. It is clear also that religion, far from having -been the sufficient cause or instrument of progress, was largely -responsible for the stagnation of the middle ages, through sternly -repressing the sceptical spirit and leading off men's minds from -inquiry into natural laws, to the discussion of many topics on which it -was impossible to achieve knowledge and which were necessarily barren of -results making for human progress. Nevertheless the Christian religion -has in the long run co-operated in forwarding the mental evolution of -the European peoples in an important manner which we must briefly -consider later--namely, through its effects upon social organisation. - -Without raising the question of the natural or supernatural origin of -religion or of any particular religion, we may say that from the point -of view of national life, a religion is essentially a system of -supernatural sanctions for social conduct, for conduct conforming to the -moral code of the society, and especially for customs regulating the -family and the relations of the sexes, on which, more than on anything -else, social stability depends. It is, thus, the great conservative -agency; for it enforces the observance of custom by a system of rewards -and punishments; in the earlier stages of society, especially by -punishments. It is essentially intolerant of change of custom or belief; -and even the Christian religion has exemplified this principle in the -terrible persecutions and innumerable wars for which it has been -responsible. - -The great function and tendency of any religion, once established among -a people, is to preserve intact the current moral code and to secure -conformity to it. Nevertheless, some religions are less prohibitive of -progress than others; and, when such a religion replaces a more -restrictive one, an important condition of progress is realised. But, in -so far as progress is then favoured, this is not due to the changed -operations of the religious emotions and sentiments; it is due to the -great religious teachers who have succeeded in breaking down the bonds -imposed by the more primitive religion, and so have given freer play to -the intellectual faculties; the improvements of religious systems have -been negative or permissive conditions of progress, rather than its -effective cause. - -Progress has, then, always resulted primarily from the gains made by the -intellect and added to the intellectual tradition, that is to say, from -the progress of knowledge. Nevertheless, the free play of the intellect -is always a danger to society, for the reason that the customs and moral -code of a society, however imperfect and sanctioned by a religion -however narrow, are yet the bonds by which alone it can be held -together; to their influence has been largely due in every age the -subordination by the members of a society of their individual egoistic -ends to the welfare of the society as a whole. - -The spirit of inquiry, which always leads men to question the authority -of these customs and moral codes and of their religious sanctions and -thus tends to weaken them, is, then, a socially disruptive force, at the -same time that it is the source of all progress. Hence, though the free -play of the intellect and of the spirit of inquiry may secure for a time -the rapid progress of civilisation, it cannot alone secure continued -progress. Continued progress has only resulted where there has been -maintained a happy balance between the conservative and the progressive -forces, between the authority of custom and the moral code on the one -hand and the free activity of the intellect on the other. Wherever the -progressive force has outrun the conservative, progress has been first -rapid and then has come abruptly to an end. Greece exemplified this -process in the clearest manner. It was the excessive seeking of -individuals for their own power and glory, unrestrained by the customs -and religious systems which their intellect had outgrown, that ruptured -the bonds of society, plunged the State into war and civil strife, and -eventually destroyed it by the extermination of the Greek aristocracy. -The same is true of the brilliant but brief periods of rapid progress -exhibited by the medieval Italian States. Intellect outran and -undermined morals, and progress was brought to an end. - -Some observers have maintained that history will pass the same verdict -upon modern France, and that most of our leading nations of the present -day are seriously threatened by the same danger. - -Any long continued progressive evolution of the mind of a people has -been, then, a rare exception in the history of the world; partly because -the free play of the spirit of inquiry and of the intellectual -faculties, which is the source of all progress, exerts a socially -disruptive tendency, so that progress is by its very nature dangerous to -the stability of any nation; but partly also because the free play of -the spirit of inquiry has been so rarely achieved or permitted, so that -even such progress as has led on to social disruption has been -exceptional. - -A long period of intellectual and moral stagnation in the rigid bonds of -custom and religion has been the rule for nearly all the peoples of the -earth, so soon as they had attained to a settled mode of existence. The -primary question, then, to be answered in seeking to account for the -progress of nations, is--What conditions enabled the spirit of inquiry to -break the bonds of custom and religion and to extend man's knowledge of -man and of the world in which he lives? - -Bagehot, in considering more particularly the progress of political -institutions, put the problem in much the same way. He pointed out that -the first age of the life of nations is always an age dominated by -custom resting on unquestioned religious sanctions; an age in which -there is often a vast amount of discussion of detail, as, for example, -discussion of the details of military expeditions, but never discussion -of principles; and he maintained that an age marked by the discussion of -principles, involving the questioning of traditions, moral and -intellectual, initiates and characterises every period of progress. - -There is much to be said for the view that the most important condition -of progress in its earlier stages was in most cases, perhaps in all, the -conquest of a more primitive people by one more advanced in culture or -of superior racial type, who remained to settle in the conquered -territory, and, not driving out or exterminating the conquered -inhabitants, established themselves as a governing class. History and -archaeology show that this occurred at least once in most of the areas -where nations have developed spontaneously to any considerable degree; -the earliest known instances being those of Egypt and Chaldea as long as -ten thousand years ago. The same thing occurred again in India, and -later still in Greece; and throughout early European history the process -was frequently repeated in various areas. Every one of the modern -peoples of Europe has been formed through such fusion by conquest of two -peoples, in some instances several times repeated; and, though none of -these modern European peoples originated their own civilisations, but -largely took over by imitation the civilisation ready made for them by -the more precocious peoples of Asia and by Greece and Rome, these -fusions and the resultant composite character of the European peoples no -doubt have tended greatly to promote progress. And it is easy to see how -in several ways such a fusion by conquest of two peoples must have -tended to set free the spirit of inquiry, that prime condition of -progress. Three of these seem to have been of chief importance. - -The most obvious way in which progress has been promoted was that the -conquering invaders became a leisured aristocracy, having their material -needs supplied by the labour of the indigenous population, which became -a more or less servile class. All the ancient civilisations were thus -founded upon servile labour. We may be sure that, until such a social -system resulted from conquest, no people made much progress; because all -individuals were fully occupied in securing their means of subsistence, -either by warfare, by the tending of herds, or by agriculture. Each -people was self-supporting, and knew no or few needs beyond those which -their own labour was able to supply; and labour was individual, or was -co-operative only among small groups, such as the communal family -groups. It could, therefore, undertake no great works, whether of -building or engineering, such as large public buildings, irrigation, or -road making. Each family consumed what it produced, and consequently -there was no large accumulation of capital; for there were no motives -for storing up their primitive wealth, and generally no wealth of -durable and storable form. - -But, as soon as a ruling class could dispose of the labour of a large -part of the population, making them work for a mere subsistence wage, -there was initiated that régime of capital and labour on which, up to -the present time, all civilisation has been founded. Wealth was -accumulated; great works, such as the pyramids, demanding enormous -expenditure of human life and work, could be undertaken; and a leisured -class was created, which, being freed from the necessity of bodily toil, -was able to turn its energy to speculative inquiry, to the enjoyment of -art and luxury, to directing and organising the labour of the multitude, -to inventing the tools that render labour more effective, to studying -natural phenomena such as the cycle of the seasons, a more accurate -knowledge of which added to the productivity of labour; for it was in -the service of wealth production, that in the main science arose, -especially mathematics and mechanical and astronomical science, -arithmetic and geometry through the need of a practical art of -measurement, astronomical science through the need of foreseeing the -seasons. - -The desire to enjoy art and luxury is one which feeds itself and grows, -when once aroused; and it was these growing desires of the leisured and -wealthy classes which created trade, or at any rate first developed it -beyond the merest rudiments; and in doing so led to regular and friendly -intercourse between nations. - -A second very important result of such fusion by conquest must have been -the breaking up to some extent of custom and the weakening of the -religious sanctions. Under the new régime, both the conquering and the -conquered peoples would find their old customs unsuited to their novel -social relations, and inadequate to regulate their changed occupations. -The old customs of both would inevitably be thrown into the melting pot; -at the same time the religious sanctions of both would be weakened by -the intimate contact of two systems, neither of which, in the presence -of a rival system, would henceforth be able to claim unquestioned -authority, until one had suppressed the other or a stable synthesis of -the two had been effected. So long as each individual never had -intercourse with any but those who accepted the national or tribal -religion, it was well-nigh impossible for anyone to question its -authority; but as soon as the devotees of two religions lived -intermixed, the question--Which religion was true? must inevitably have -arisen in some minds. The weight of custom and of religious sanctions, -which lies so heavily on a primitive society, restricting all -enterprise, forbidding inquiry and repressing the use of the -intellectual powers, would thus be lightened and scope be given for -experiment in thought and action. And either people, coming into more or -less intimate contact for the first time with a system of beliefs and -customs and institutions other than their own, must have been led to -compare, discuss, and reflect upon these things; the sceptical spirit -and the intellect must have been greatly stimulated. There must have -been a conflict of ideas and the initiation of an age of discussion. In -short such a fusion by conquest must have broken up what Bagehot calls -the 'cake of custom' as nothing else could, and so have rendered the -intellectual and moral traditions once more plastic and capable of -progress. - -No doubt in many cases such disintegration of the old systems went too -far, and the society, before it could evolve anew a sufficiently strong -and adequate system of customs and sanctions, went to pieces. In modern -times many primitive societies have been broken up and destroyed in just -this way--namely, their customs and the religious sanctions of their -morality have been undermined and weakened by the contact of the more -complex systems of civilised men, and they have not been able to -assimilate the new system rapidly enough to enable it effectively to -replace their own shaken and decaying code. - -A third way in which the fusion by conquest of two peoples must have -made for progress was by biological blending, the crossing by -intermarriage of the two stocks. We have seen that there is a -considerable amount of evidence to show that, when two stocks are very -widely different in mental and physical characters, the result of -crossing is likely to be bad, the crossed race is likely to be inferior -to, and less fit for the battle of life than, both parental stocks; the -characters of individuals will be apt to be made up of a number of -elements more or less inconsistent with one another; such a composite -character made up of inharmonious elements will be apt to be unstable -and constantly at war with itself. Character of this kind and the tragic -struggles to which it is liable to find itself committed has been well -described in fiction by a number of authors, especially in stories of -the Mulattoes of America. On the physical side it has been shown that -such cross-bred races tend to die out owing to lack of balance of the -physical constitution. - -On the other hand, we saw that the crossing of two closely allied racial -stocks seems to have a tendency to produce a cross-bred race superior to -both parent stocks, and especially to produce a variable stock. It is, I -think, probable that the frequently repeated blending of allied stocks -in Europe has been the fundamental biological condition of the capacity -of the European peoples for progressive national life. - -In the case of the conquest of one people by another differing very -markedly in racial qualities, there seem to be two alternatives equally -prejudicial to the continued progress of the nation so formed. On the -one hand, free intermarriage may take place, resulting in an inferior -cross-bred race incapable of high civilisation, as seems to have -occurred in most of the countries of South America, where it is with the -greatest difficulty that the outward forms of the high civilisation -which they have imitated from Europe are maintained. On the other hand, -where especially the outward physical characters are very different, the -conquering people may hold itself apart from the conquered, and maintain -itself as a ruling class, which prides itself on the purity of its blood -and which tends to harden into a caste. Such conquest without subsequent -blending gives rise to a civilisation which, being founded upon a rigid -caste system, is incapable of continued progress. This is what has -happened in India. The fair-skinned Aryan invaders despised the -dark-skinned indigenous peoples, whom they spoke of as being scarcely -human, and, in spite of a good deal of crossing, they have in theory and -in the case of the Brahmans at least to a considerable extent in -practice, maintained the purity of their blood, by means of the -development of the caste system. - -Europe on the other hand was fortunate in that all the different -peoples, or most of the peoples, from which its nations have been formed -were of allied race; they were all, with few exceptions, of the white -race, sufficiently nearly allied not to produce inferior cross-races but -rather to produce some superior subraces. The conquered peoples have -been so similar to their conquerors in physical type that crossing could -take place without the cross-bred offspring bearing the indelible marks -of inferior or mixed parentage, such as a dark skin or a woolly head. -Hence, although caste systems were formed, they did not prove rigid; -free intermarriage took place, and it was not impossible for individuals -of the conquered race or of the mixed stock to rise into the superior -ruling class. The importance of this may be seen, on reflecting how the -merest trace of negro-blood in individuals of mixed origin in North -America is apt to show itself in the physical features and how, even in -that enlightened and Christian country, a trace so revealed suffices to -condemn a man, no matter how great his powers or refined his character, -to remain a member of the inferior caste. - -But, apart from the possible improvement of the racial qualities of the -whole people, or of the average individuals in general, which may well -have occurred in Europe, the biological blending of allied races may -give important advantages to the resulting people in another way--namely, -by increasing its variability, the variability of its mental qualities. -If a people is extremely homogeneous in the racial sense, it may be -expected to display little variability, its members will be of -essentially similar mental qualities and of a uniform level of mental -capacity; and this will tend to make them a very stable, but a very -conservative unprogressive, nation. This seems to be true of China, and -to be in large part the source of its extreme stability and extreme -conservatism. - -Where, on the other hand, a people is formed by the intimate blending by -intermarriage of two or more racial stocks, it is likely to be a -variable one; there will be large departures in many directions from the -average type of mental ability, and there will be individuals varying by -excess of development of various capacities as well as others varying by -defect of development. - -And a people of variable and therefore widely diversified mental -capacities will, even though its average capacity is no greater than -that of a more homogeneous people, be more likely to make progress in -civilisation, and this for three reasons. - -First, variability is the essential condition of all race progress by -biological adaptation; for it is by the selection of variations, the -survival and multiplication of types varying in certain directions in -larger proportions than the average type, that all race progress and -adaptation seems to have been achieved. Hence, increased variability, -resulting from the blending of races, will render a people so formed -capable of race progress and of more rapid adaptation; for example, in -the peoples of Northern Europe it would have favoured the adaptation of -the constitutions of the people to the severity of the climate and to -those peculiar social conditions which, as we have seen reason to -believe, have been the source of their unique combination of qualities. - -Secondly, variability of mental qualities would be favourable to the -coming of the age of discussion; for in such a people custom would rule -with less force, its sway would be more apt to be questioned and -disputed, than among a highly homogeneous people. - -Thirdly, and this is probably the most important manner in which race -blending has favoured the progress of nations, among the variations from -the average type produced by race crossing would be men of exceptional -capacities in various directions. - -We have already noted that all progress of the intellectual and moral -traditions eventually depends upon the activities of men of exceptional -powers of various kinds, upon the great religious or ethical teacher, -the inventor, the artist, the discoverer. A people may, like the -Chinese, have a high average capacity of intellectual ability; but, if -it cannot from time to time produce men of far more than average -capacity along various lines, it will not progress very far -spontaneously. Exceptional intellectual capacity is, however, a -variation from the type, as the biologists say, just such as may be -expected to result from race blending; there will be, among the -variations in all directions, variations in the direction of exceptional -capacity of various kinds. Hence a nation of blended variable stocks -will, other things being the same, be far more likely to be capable of -continued evolution than a homogeneous people of equal average mental -capacity, among whom few men are capable of rising to any distinguished -height. - -This view of the effects of race blending is borne out empirically by -the comparison of the peoples of the world. The European peoples have -been the most progressive, and they, more than all others, have been -formed by repeated blendings of allied stocks. Within Europe it is the -peoples among whom this blending has been carried furthest who have -proved most progressive--the French, the English, and the Italian; and, -conversely, the least blended peoples have been the most backward, and -have contributed least to the general progress of civilisation in -Europe; for example the large, almost purely Slav, population which -forms the bulk of the Russian nation. - -We pass on to consider other conditions which have contributed to -setting free and stimulating the spirit of inquiry. We have seen that -physical environment played a predominant part in moulding the mental -qualities of races in the prehistoric period. And we must recognise -that, although with the beginning of settled national life it probably -ceased to modify race-qualities to any considerable extent, it has yet -been important in favouring the rapid evolution of the intellectual -tradition of some peoples, and this in several ways. First, by its -direct influence upon the minds of individuals. Buckle and others have -pointed out that, while, in India and throughout a great part of Asia, -the physical environment was unfavourable to intellectual progress, -while its vast and terrible aspects fertilised the superstition of the -people, and repressed the spirit of inquiry by rendering hopeless any -attempt to cope with its terrific displays of force, in Europe and -especially in South and Western Europe, the comparatively small scale on -which the physical features are planned and the relative feebleness of -the forces of nature encouraged men to adopt a bolder attitude towards -them. - -Buckle, contrasting Greece with India in this respect, showed how the -physical features of both countries were reflected in their national -cultures; how, while the Hindus cringed in fear before monstrous and -cruel gods, the Greeks fashioned their gods in their own image, simply -personifying each leading human attribute, and made of them a genial -family of beings, differing from men and women in little but their -immortality and their superior facilities for the enjoyment of life. In -general the buoyancy and serenity of the Greek attitude towards life and -nature reflected the beautiful, secure and diversified aspects of their -physical environment. In such an atmosphere the spirit of inquiry would -naturally flourish more freely than where man's spirit was oppressed by -the fear of terrible and uncontrollable forces and where he was made to -feel too keenly the limitations of his mental and physical powers. -Buckle summed up his review of these effects as follows:--"In the -civilisations exterior to Europe, all nature conspired to increase the -authority of the imaginative faculties and to weaken the authority of -the reasoning ones. In Europe has operated a law the reverse of this, by -virtue of which the tendency of natural phenomena is, on the whole, to -limit the imagination, and embolden the understanding; thus inspiring -man with confidence in his own resources, and facilitating the increase -of his knowledge, by encouraging that bold, inquisitive and scientific -spirit, which is constantly advancing and on which all future progress -must depend." - -I think we must accept this view of the importance of the direct action -of physical environment on the minds of individuals. To deny, as Hegel -did, the important influence of physical environment upon the -development of Greek culture, because the Turks have enjoyed a similar -climate without producing a similar culture, is unreasonable. The -progress of civilisation has always been the result of a multiplicity of -causes and conditions; and we cannot deny all importance to any one, -whether race or climate or social organisation or religion or any other, -because in some particular instance it has failed to produce the -progress of which in other instances it has been one of a number of -co-operating causes. - -The diversity and small scale of the physical features of South and -Western Europe has favoured the progress of the intellectual tradition -in another important way. The land is divided by natural barriers into a -number of natural territories, the population of each of which has -naturally tended to become one nation and to develop a national culture. -In this way there arose a number of nations and States in close -proximity with one another, yet each developing along its own lines. -When the development of wealth and commerce brought these diversified -cultures into friendly intercourse with one another, the exchange of -ideas and the general imitation of the useful arts of one people by its -neighbours must have made very strongly for progress; the culture of -each of a group of neighbouring peoples no longer progressed only by the -addition of the ideas and inventions of its own exceptional intellects, -but each group had the opportunity of selecting and imitatively adopting -whatever seemed to them best among the ideas, the arts and inventions of -the neighbouring peoples. - -It is generally admitted that this was one of the main conditions of the -rapid development of the culture of the ancient Greeks, situated as they -were within easy reach of several of the oldest civilisations, those of -Egypt and of South-Eastern Asia; they were also within reach of a number -of less civilised peoples, and therefore enjoyed opportunities for trade -of a kind which, being peculiarly lucrative, has in all ages hastened -the acquisition of wealth and capital and stimulated the development of -commerce. All the most progressive European peoples have enjoyed similar -advantages; and it has been maintained with some plausibility that the -principal cause of the shifting of the centre of progressive -civilisation from the Eastern Mediterranean to the west of Europe has -been the improvement of the art of navigation and the discovery of the -New World and of the sea route to Asia and the East Indies; for these -gave the western countries the most advantageous positions for the -conduct of a world wide commerce. No doubt the factor mentioned has been -important in producing this change. - -But, when we consider the ancient European civilisations and compare -them with our own, we realize that, in spite of all the circumstances -which we have enumerated and briefly considered as factors stimulating -the spirit of inquiry and making for progress of their intellectual -tradition, and in spite of their brilliant and in some respects -unapproachable achievements, they were nevertheless radically incapable -of continued progress. Greek civilisation certainly progressed at a -marvellous rate for some centuries; yet there is every reason to believe -that it bore within itself the inevitable causes of its ultimate decay -or stagnation. And, when we consider Roman civilisation, we see that, -through all the long centuries of the greatness of Rome, it was -essentially unprogressive. There was no continued evolution of the -national mind and character. Save in respect to the single province of -law, Roman civilisation, when it entered upon the period of its decay, -had not appreciably progressed in any essential respects beyond the -stage reached more than a thousand years earlier. Rome was in fact less -truly a nation in its later than in its earlier age. It had -superficially imitated rather more of Greek culture and it had -incorporated a number of bizarre elements from the many peoples which -had been brought under the sway of the Roman sceptre; but neither in -religion, nor in philosophy, nor art, nor science, nor in any of the -practical modes of controlling the forces of nature, had it made any -substantial gains; and its social organisation tended more and more to -the type of a centralised irresponsible bureaucracy[145]. - -On the other hand, it cannot be denied that in the last thousand years -the nations of Western Europe have made immense progress; nor that this -progress has been accelerating from century to century in a way which -seemed to reach a climax in the wonderful century just closed; though -there appears good prospect of continued progress and perhaps of -continued acceleration throughout the century to come and perhaps for -many more. - -What then is the cause of this great difference between the civilisation -of Western Europe and all preceding civilisations? The difference is, I -think, essentially due to difference of social organisation. As argued -in a previous chapter, social organisation was of less influence in the -earlier ages, but has assumed a constantly increasing importance -throughout the evolution of civilisation; and it is now predominant over -all other conditions. We must, then, first define this difference of -social organisation; secondly, we must show how it makes for progress; -and thirdly, conjecture how the social organisation of Western Europe, -so favourable to the continued development of nations, has been brought -about. - -The great difference which divides the social organisation of the modern -progressive peoples from that of all the ancient European civilisations -is that, under it, the individual enjoys greater liberty and more -securely founded rights as against the community, and as against all -other individuals. This change is summed up in Sir H. Maine's dictum -that "the movement of progressive societies has hitherto been a movement -from status to contract." - -All the ancient civilised societies, Greece and Rome no less than all -the others, rested upon the fundamental assumption of the absolute -supremacy of the State, the assumption that the individual existed only -for the State and that the welfare of the State was the supreme end to -which all individual rights and liberties must be subordinated -absolutely, was the end to the securing of which all custom, and all -law, all social and family relations and institutions and religion -itself were but the means. And the State was a politico-religious -organisation, membership of which implied the blood-relationship of its -citizens and a common participation in the state-religion; while the -State gods were conceived as being themselves ancestors, or in some -other way kinsmen, of the citizens[146]. This bond of blood or kinship -between the members of the State and its gods went back to the earliest -times. It is the rule of almost all savage peoples; and the religious -rites of many include some rite symbolising or renewing this blood bond, -such as smearing the blood of the kinsmen on the altars of the gods, or -drinking the blood of some animal which is held to be the symbolic -representative of the god. And the supreme end of the State itself was -the increase of its own power and stability, through the exercise of -military power and through military conquest. - -All human beings outside the State, outside this -moral-politico-religious-bond, were regarded as _prima facie_ enemies of -the State, without rights of any sort, without even the slightest claim -to humane treatment. Hence, in war the slaughter of the conquered was -the rule; and the practice of making slaves of prisoners of war and of -conquered peoples only arose through its profitableness, and was -regarded as a great concession to the victims, whose natural fate was -sudden death. Under this system, which inevitably became to some extent -a caste system, with a caste of freemen or citizens ruling over slaves, -each individual was born to a certain status as a member of a particular -family. His position and duties and rights in the family were rigidly -prescribed by custom, and the law took account only of the relations of -the family to the State. - - - - -CHAPTER XX - -THE PROGRESS OF NATIONS IN THEIR MATURITY - - -In the foregoing chapter we have noted the great fact that the leading -modern nations of Western Europe have shown a much greater capacity for -progress than all the earlier civilised peoples, not excepting those of -ancient Greece and Rome. I urged that this difference between the -ancient and the modern European civilisations seemed to be chiefly due -to a difference of social organisation. I pointed out how the older -nations were essentially caste nations, resting on a basis of slavery, -and how all individual rights were entirely subordinated to the welfare -of the State, a politico-religious organisation held together by the -bond of kinship; how, within that organisation, the rights of each -person were strictly defined throughout his life by the status to which -he was born; and how all persons outside this organisation were regarded -as natural enemies, towards whom no obligations of any kind were felt. -We have now to notice that the form of social organisation towards which -all the leading modern nations have been tending, and which some of them -have now pretty well achieved, is one in which the last vestiges of the -caste system and the rigid bonds of customary status are rapidly being -abolished. In this new organisation social classes persist, but they are -no longer castes; all members of the nation are regarded as being by -nature free and equal; a career is open to every talent, and any man may -rise to any position by the exertion of his abilities. His position is -one of extreme liberty as compared with that of any member of the -ancient nations. He has definite rights as against the State. The State -claims only a minimum of rights over him, the right to prevent him -interfering with the rights of his fellow-citizens, the right to make -him pay for his share of the privileges conveyed by its activities. And -these rights it claims in virtue of contract between each citizen and -all the rest. For each citizen is free to throw off his allegiance to -the State and to leave it at will, and his continuance as a citizen of -the State implies his acceptance of the contract. - -Even in religion, personal liberty has at last been achieved; religion -is no longer a State-religion, the gods are no longer the national gods, -and each man may accept any religion or none. This is the most striking -instance of the immense distance, as regards the liberty of the -individual, that divides the modern from the ancient nations. For with -the latter, the function of religion was to preserve the security of the -State; and to question it in any way was to threaten the State, a -principle fully acted upon by Athens in the time of her highest -enlightenment and glory. - -The change is very striking also as regards the attitude of the citizens -of one State towards those of any other and towards even the members of -savage and barbarous communities. We no longer regard ourselves as -devoid of all obligation towards such persons. Rather we tend to treat -them as having equal rights with ourselves, the few specifically -national rights excepted, and as having equal claims with our fellow -citizens upon our considerate feeling and conduct towards them. - -The relations of individuals are, then, tending to be regulated, on the -one hand, by contractual justice; on the other hand, by the moral -obligation felt by each individual, an obligation not enforced by any -exercise of the power of the State, but supported only by public -opinion. The end we set before ourselves is no longer the welfare of the -State, to be attained at any cost to individual liberty; it is rather an -ideal of justice for every person, to which the welfare of the State -must be, if necessary, subordinated. In short, instead of maintaining -universal intolerance, we have made great strides towards universal -tolerance. - -All this represents a profound change of social organisation, a great -advance in social evolution. That it is intimately bound up with the -progressiveness of a people is shown by the fact that the degree to -which the change has proceeded among the various nations runs parallel -with their progress in all the essentials of civilisation. The change -seems, indeed, to be one of the principal conditions of the progress of -the nations of Western Europe and, we may add, of the American nation, -by which it has been carried further than by any other. How, then, does -it make for progress? We may answer this question by considering how the -social system which has given place to this new kind of social -organisation--namely, the caste system--renders progress difficult or -impossible. - -Where the caste system is highly developed and rigidly maintained, as -among the Hindus of India, its conservative unprogressive tendency is -obvious enough. Each man is born a member of some one of many castes, -and he can never hope to pass from one caste to another and higher -caste. That fact alone removes at once the two greatest spurs to effort, -the two most powerful motives that urge on the members of our modern -societies to the fullest development and exercise of all their -faculties; namely, the desire to rise in the social scale and to place -one's children at a more advantageous starting point in the battle of -life, and the fear of falling back in the social scale, of sinking to a -lower level, with the consequent sacrifice of all the social -consideration and other advantages which one's position at any given -social level brings with it. Under the Hindu caste system, the poor -Brahmin who has no possessions, perhaps not even a rag to cover his -nakedness, is sure of the social consideration which his birth gives -him, both for himself and his children. He can look disdainfully upon -the rich man and the prince of lower caste; and public opinion approves -and supports him. This perhaps is the most important way in which the -caste system prevents progress. But there are others almost equally -serious. - -The occupations open to the members of each caste are rigidly limited. -The members of one caste must be priests only, of another soldiers only, -of another scavengers, of another potters, and so on. Now, if it were -true that, when dexterities or mental powers generally are specially -developed by use, the improvements of faculty resulting from this long -practice and use were transmitted in any degree from generation to -generation, we should expect the caste system to result, after many -generations, in so many distinct breeds of men of highly specialised and -perfected powers of the kinds used in the pursuit of each of the caste -occupations. And this might make for progress. Each man would be -employed in the occupation for which he was best suited. But, as we have -seen, it is probable that use-inheritance does not occur; and there -seems to be no evidence that differentiation and hereditary -specialisation of faculties of this sort result from the caste -system[147]. In each caste men continue to be born of the most diverse -powers suited for the most diverse occupations; and one effect of the -caste system is that the best powers of any man will in the great -majority of cases be prevented from finding their most effective outlet. -That involves a great waste of faculty, which makes strongly for -stagnation. We shall realize the importance of this influence, if we -reflect on the great achievements, in the most diverse fields, of men -who under our modern system have risen from some humble station and -occupation, to which under the caste system they would have been rigidly -confined. - -Again, within each caste custom rules the lives of the members with much -greater force than it can exert in a large and complex society in the -absence of the caste system. For each caste has its own tradition and -customary code, which is necessarily narrow because of the uniformity of -the conditions of life of those who obey it; hence tradition and custom -have a narrow and well-defined field of operation; and the narrower the -field of its application, the more rigidly will custom control action. - -The caste system is thus one which permits of great differentiation and -specialisation of pursuits, without any weakening of the conservative -forces of society. It is for that reason presumably that the social -organisation of all early civilisations tended to this form. It was the -most easily attained form which combined diversity with stability -sufficiently to permit of the formation of a large society or nation; -and it was one which made for military efficiency. It formed, therefore, -a natural stage of social evolution. - -In so far as the caste system still survives, it owes its survival to -the continuance of the need of the State for military efficiency. And we -see how its maintenance is still only rendered possible by its alliance -with a State religion and its system of religious sanctions. In Russia, -for example, the caste system was thus maintained by the alliance of the -military power with the religious system. While we see how in modern -Germany the attempt to maintain the caste system and the supremacy of -the State over the rights and liberties of individuals is breaking down, -as the religious sanctions are losing their hold upon the people. Social -democracy, secularism, and the demand for liberty go hand in hand[148]. - -It is clear, then, that the caste system tends to produce a stable -society and to prevent progress; and that, in proportion as it gives way -to liberty and equality of all men, both legal and customary, and to the -recognition of the rights of individuals as against the State, progress -must be favoured. - -In yet another way (perhaps more important than any other) the abolition -of caste may favour development. In an earlier chapter I pointed out how -every step in the development of the intellectual or the moral tradition -of a people is initiated by some person of exceptional intellectual or -moral power. I pointed out also how the existence of a hierarchy of -social classes which are not exclusive castes, together with the -operation of the social ladder by means of which individuals and -families are enabled to climb up and down the social scale, tend to the -segregation of ability in the classes of the upper part of the scale. -They tend, in short, to produce classes capable of producing in each -generation a relatively large number of persons of more than average -capacities. Or, in other words, they lead to the concentration and -mutual enrichment of the strains of exceptional capacity; they -concentrate the best capacities of the people in a relatively small -number of individuals of the favoured classes. And abilities so -concentrated and raised in a certain proportion of individuals to a -higher power will be more favourable in every way to the growth of the -national mind than the same sum of abilities more evenly diffused -throughout the population. At present it is impossible to say how far -this segregation of abilities has gone, and what part it has played in -forwarding the mental development of any nation. But that it has played -some part, perhaps a very important one in some instances, can hardly be -doubted[149]. - -In Europe the feudal system served to tide over the period of transition -from the ancient social organisation founded on caste and the supremacy -of the politico-religious State to the modern system, the transition -from the system founded on status and regulated by custom to the system -founded upon equality and liberty and regulated by contract. For the -feudal system, although still more or less a caste system, was -nevertheless founded to some extent on contract. The tenure of land -involved a contract to perform services in return; and such contract was -the essence of the feudal system. - -But it was not until the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, when the -feudal system was finally broken up and the Reformation initiated the -age of religious tolerance, that the modern system substantially -replaced the ancient system, and the age of rapid progress set in. - -In proportion as the change was achieved, the powers of all men were set -free in an unfettered competition such as had never before been -possible. Independence of thought and action, free discussion of all -principles, and the recognition of the relativity of all truths, -succeeded to unquestioning subservience to ancient formulas and -customs. Each man became comparatively free to follow his natural bent, -to develop his best powers to the utmost, and to secure by the exercise -of those powers the maximum of social consideration and of well-being, -unfettered by arbitrary restrictions, civil or ecclesiastical. I think -we may fairly say that the modern pragmatic or humanistic movement in -philosophy, in the midst of which we are living, represents the final -stage of this emancipation of man from the bonds which he has created -for himself. - -We have seen, then, that the modern system of social organisation does -not make for the racial progress of a whole people, but probably, up to -the present time, for race-deterioration; nevertheless, it certainly -makes for progress of the intellectual and moral traditions of peoples; -and we can now see in what way it makes for progress. The improvement of -racial qualities by natural selection of the innately superior -individuals has been brought to an end; the mortal conflict of societies -has also practically been abolished as a factor of race progress, as -also of collective or social progress. These have been replaced by a new -form of struggle for existence and of selection--namely, the rivalry and -competition of ideas and of the institutions in which ideas become -embodied, and the selection for survival of those ideas and institutions -which are found, under the tests of practice and experience, most -accordant with the truth and, therefore, best adapted to promote the -welfare of societies and of their members[150]. - -And this process of survival of the fittest and elimination of the unfit -among ideas and institutions takes place not only within nations, but -has also international scope. The members of each nation no longer, as -of old, regard all foreigners as their natural enemies, no longer -despise their institutions and reject their ideas with scorn. They are -ready to learn from others, to let the ideas current among other peoples -enter into competition with native-born ideas; and so the number and -variety of competing elements increases and the intensity of the -competition waxes ever keener. Every idea that constitutes an important -advance in our intellectual outlook or in our practical command over -nature rapidly finds acceptance throughout the civilised world and -displaces some less true idea, some less appropriate institution, some -less effective mode of action. - -Two great conditions, making for continued improvement of the moral and -intellectual traditions, characterise, then, Western civilisation. -First, within each nation there is going on the process of emancipation -of all human faculties, so that they enter into the freest possible -competition with one another on a footing of equality; this process, -although now far advanced in all the leading nations, is still being -carried further, and the whole trend of modern legislation is to confirm -the change and hasten it to its completion[151]. Secondly, there is a -circle of peoples whose ideas are thrown into the arena of rivalry, to -suffer extinction or to gain universal acceptance. This circle also is -constantly widening by the inclusion of peoples hitherto outside it; and -each new admission, as of Japan in recent years, is a new stimulus to -the further evolution of the collective mind of each nation concerned. -Both these conditions depend upon improved social organisation. - -How then has this great change of social organisation been effected? To -put this question is to approach an immense subject, the history of -liberty and toleration. I can only make one or two brief remarks. It has -been suggested by many authors, notably by Kidd in his volume on -_Western Civilisation_, that we owe this great change to the Christian -religion. It is pointed out that the Christian religion, unlike most -earlier religions, was from the first not a national or State religion -but a universal religion, and that its adoption has weakened the tyranny -of the State by breaking up its alliance with religion. Further, it is a -religion which, by its doctrine of the immortality of the souls of all -men, has tended to give dignity and value to each individual life, quite -independently of personal status. Again, by its teaching of universal -charity, it has to some extent softened and moralised the relations of -men and of societies. But, that the replacement of a national religion -by a universal religion which teaches the equality of all believers does -not suffice to secure continued collective evolution is shown by the -instances of Bhuddism and Mohammedanism. Both of these are of this -character, yet both have failed to render continuously progressive the -societies that have accepted them. - -That the spread of the Christian religion does not in itself suffice to -account for the evolution from the ancient to the modern type of social -organisation is shown also by the fact that it had held undisputed sway -among the peoples of Western Europe for more than a thousand years -before social evolution made any considerable advance. Throughout that -period, religion constantly called in the civil and military power of -the State to enforce the acceptance of its dogmas. And that its -teachings did not suffice to produce religious or civil tolerance is -shown by the fierce and incessant persecutions of heretics and the many -religious wars that fill the history of medieval Europe. - -The religious tolerance and liberty of the modern era are rather -features of a wider phenomenon, the general increase of tolerance and -liberty, and they must be ascribed to the same causes as this wider -fact. They imply a great evolution of the moral tradition, the most -important and striking feature of which is the expansion of the sphere -in which the sympathetic feelings find application. There is no reason -to suppose that the feelings and emotions underlying the sympathetic and -considerate treatment of others have changed in character in the -historic period. For long ages men have felt such sympathy and given -considerate and just treatment to those who have been nearest to them; -at first to the members of their own immediate family; later to the -fellow-members of their own small society; and then, as societies -expanded into complex caste societies, to the members of their own -caste; later, as castes were broken down, to all their fellow citizens; -and still later in some degree to all men. - -It is this progressive extension of the sphere of imaginative sympathy -which, more than anything else, has broken down all the social barriers -that confined the energies of men and has set free their various -faculties in that competition of ever increasing severity which is the -principal cause underlying the modern progress of peoples. It is this -which has destroyed nearly all the old bonds that fettered and limited -men's activities in religion, in science, in politics, in art, in -commerce, in manufacture, and has brought men in all these spheres into -that intense, because free and equal, competition, which produces an -ever accelerating progress. It is this which has produced the almost -universal acceptance of the entirely and most characteristically modern -principle of 'one man one vote,' a principle so hard to justify on any -ground of expediency, from any considerations of the stability and -welfare of the State. It is this also which has led to so greatly -increased intercourse between peoples. - -It is sometimes contended that the realisation of the principles of -equality and justice for all men has been secured only by the strife of -the social classes, by the success of the lower classes in forcing a -series of concessions from the ruling classes. This is a very imperfect -and partial view of the process. If the ruling classes had consistently -sought to maintain their power and exclusive privileges, and to maintain -all the rest of society in a state of servitude or serfdom, there is -little doubt that they could have done so. But their position has been -weakened from within by the extension of their sympathies. Consider the -great series of legislative changes which, during the nineteenth -century, transformed the social organisation of this country, especially -the factory laws, the franchise extension laws, and the laws for the -abolition of slavery. These were for the most part of the nature of a -voluntary abdication of power on the part of the classes in possession. -Consider the topics which chiefly engross the attention of our -legislators and are the centre of political and social discussion. They -are the providing of a better and freer education for the children of -the working classes, who of themselves would probably never have thought -of such a thing; the providing of free meals for school children; the -providing of work and food for the unemployed; temperance laws, land -settlement, and emigration, the eight-hours day, housing of the working -classes, free trade and cheap food, old age pensions; all measures for -raising the standard of life of the labouring classes and securing them -against the tyranny of capital. - -In respect of our relations to the lower peoples the same proposition -holds good. It would be easy for the European nations to exterminate the -black people of Africa, and to possess themselves of all their -lands[152]. But public opinion will not now allow this; it insists upon -our moral obligation towards such peoples, that we are bound to try to -help them to survive and to raise themselves to our level of culture. - -The extension of the sphere of application of imaginative sympathy has -then been a factor of prime importance in producing the social evolution -which underlies modern progress. - -The factors that have brought about this extension have been many and -complex, and it is perhaps a hopeless task to attempt to enumerate them -and to apportion to each its share of influence. Undoubtedly, it has -been produced largely by the influence of a relatively small number of -enlightened leaders of opinion, such men as Wilberforce, Stuart Mill, -Shaftesbury, John Locke, Rousseau, and Voltaire--men whose original -intellectual powers enabled them to criticise and reject the settled -principles of their time. It was a work of liberation from custom and -traditional prejudice effected by the spirit of inquiry, which -questioned the validity of the old narrow conceptions of the relations -of men and peoples, the old narrow prejudices of caste and nation, and -discovered their fallacies to the world; discovered, for example, that -men of a religious persuasion slightly different from one's own are not -necessarily wicked, nor those of a different nationality necessarily -despicable and possessed of no ideas worthy of admiration and adoption. - -But the ground was prepared for the reception of the teachings of such -men by the conflicts of men who desired nothing of tolerance and -equality and liberty. This is best illustrated by the history of -religious toleration. As I said before, religion is essentially -conservative and intolerant of heresies. The first effect on religion of -that revival and liberation of the spirit of inquiry which we call the -Renascence, was to produce not religious toleration, but rather a bitter -conflict of mutually intolerant sects. And religious toleration was -eventually achieved largely by the realisation of the necessity of -compromise among these warring and constantly multiplying sects; it was -found impossible to weed out heresy by persecution. Yet who can doubt -that the Church, if it believed that it saw its way to secure the -universal acceptance of its doctrines by means of persecution, would -long hesitate to return to its ancient practices? The coming of -religious toleration was due to the application of the spirit of inquiry -to religious systems; these inquiries produced irreconcilable sects, -whose strife prepared the way for compromise and toleration. - -The strife of parties and sects was itself part of a still wider -process; and this process must be recognised as the most important -single condition of that widening of the sphere of imaginative sympathy -which has been the root cause of the improvement of social organisation, -of the general increase of liberty, and thus of the progress of the -modern nations. This wider process is the general increase of human -intercourse, both within nations and between them. Only so long as men -know little of one another, can they continue to regard one another with -entire hostility or cold indifference. The knowledge and understanding -brought by personal intercourse is necessary to sympathy; but as soon -as, and in proportion as, such knowledge is acquired, the innate social -tendencies common to all men are brought into play. As soon as man -understands that his fellow man suffers the same pains and joys as -himself, longs for the same goods, fears the same evils, throbs with the -same emotions and desires, then he shares with him in some degree these -feelings, in virtue of that fundamental law of all social beings, the -law of primitive sympathy; then also pity and sympathetic sorrow and -tender regard are awakened in his breast; then his fellow man is no -longer the object of his cold or hostile glances, as a certain rival and -probable enemy, but is seen to be a fellow toiler and sufferer whom he -is willing to succour, a fellow creature whose joys and sorrows alike he -cannot but share in some degree. - -Increasing freedom of intercourse throughout the civilised world, and -beyond its boundaries also, has been the most characteristic feature of -the age of progress, and in it we may recognise the most fundamental -condition of that progress. Science and mechanical invention have been -the means by which this greater freedom of intercourse has been brought -about. First and most important perhaps was the invention of printing, -the consequent spread of the habit of reading, and the wide diffusion of -the written word. Second only to this was the improvement of the art of -navigation, which brought the remotest peoples of the world within the -ken of Europe and greatly promoted the intercourse of the European -peoples, as well as the circulation of persons and news within each -nation; for the development of commerce over seas implies a -corresponding development of commerce within the national boundaries. -Then came the use of steam in locomotion on sea and land, the press and -the telegraph; and, with the advent of these, intercourse within and -without became really free and abundant; mutual knowledge and -understanding between men and nations grew rapidly, and the age of -progress was assured. - -The progressive character of the modern nations has been due, then, to -the actions and reactions between the spirit of inquiry and the -improvement of forms of social organisation; each step in the one -respect has reacted upon the other, stimulating further change in the -same direction. And the medium through which they have chiefly thus -worked upon one another has been the increase of intercourse between men -and nations. The spirit of inquiry has urged men on to explore their -fellow men and to study foreign nations, and it has provided the means -for so doing; the greater mutual knowledge and sympathy thus brought -into being have in turn brought greater liberty to the spirit of -inquiry, freeing it from the rigid bonds of custom and conservative -tradition and enabling it to render human intercourse yet more free and -abundant. - -In this way we reconcile and synthesize the rival theories of the causes -of progress, the view that sees in the spirit of inquiry the sole agent -of progress and that which attributes it wholly to the improvement of -morals and of social organisation. The great commandment, "Thou shalt -love thy neighbour as thyself," pointed the way of all progress; but -great and beautiful as it was, it could not immediately avail to break -the bonds of the human spirit, the bonds of ignorance and fear; only -gradually through increase of knowledge could man learn that all men are -his neighbours, and that not only the foreigner just beyond the -frontier, but also the naked savage, chipping his stone axe or weaving -his rude basket for the reception of his neighbour's head, is a man of -like passions with himself, with equal claims upon justice and freedom -and all that makes the humanity of man. - -It only remains to point out the part in human life of a new factor of -progress which promises to eclipse all others in importance. The main -theme of my earlier work[153] was that only through increase of -knowledge of others is each man's knowledge of himself slowly built up -and enriched, until it renders him capable of enlightened -self-direction. So the main theme of this book is the development of the -group mind, the increase of its self-knowledge and of its power of -self-direction through increase of knowledge of other human societies. - -The age of progress through which the world has recently passed was an -age of progress due to increase of human intercourse and consequent -increasing understanding by each nation of other nations and peoples. -This better knowledge of other peoples is now reacting upon the -self-knowledge of each nation, rapidly enriching it. Each of the great -nations is beginning to understand itself, and to take thought for the -morrow in the light of this self-knowledge; and this increase of -national self-knowledge, this enrichment of national self-consciousness, -is the great new factor which alone can secure the further progress of -mankind. We saw in an earlier chapter that a nation is essentially the -realization of an idea, the idea of a nation, that only in so far as the -idea of the nation exists and operates in the minds of the members of -the nation, controlling their conduct and directing it to actions having -reference to the nation as a whole, does a nation come into and continue -in existence. The self-consciousness of nations is therefore not a new -factor in their life. But their self-consciousness is now becoming -reflective and immensely richer in content; so much so that it promises -to operate virtually as a new factor of tremendous efficiency. - -We may illustrate the influence of this new factor by reverting again to -the analogy between the mind of the individual and the mind of the -nation which we developed at some length in an earlier chapter. In the -developing individual, as in the evolving animal series, the development -of self-consciousness is the condition of the development of true -volition. Before self-consciousness and a self-regarding sentiment are -developed, conduct is determined by feelings and impulses or by ideas -and the desires they arouse, either some one desire rising alone to -consciousness and issuing at once in action, or through a conflict of -impulses and desires, some one of which eventually predominates over the -others and determines action; but action issuing from such a conflict of -impulses and desires is not true volition. Action is truly volitional -only when the ideal of the self in relation to the idea of the end to be -achieved by each of the conflicting tendencies determines the issue of -the conflict. - -In the mental life of nations, all those conflicts of ideas, of parties, -of principles and of systems, in which each strives to predominate over -and displace others, and by natural selection of which (the death of the -many less fit, the survival of the few better or more fit) the progress -of recent centuries has been chiefly due; all these conflicts have been -more or less blind conflicts, in which the idea of the whole nation, in -relation to the end to be achieved by each of the conflicting -tendencies, has generally played but a small part and a part that often -has not made strongly for progress. National actions were in the main -impulsive and instinctive actions, like those of young children or the -higher animals. And for this reason--that nations had too little true -self-knowledge, and had not developed a true and rich ideal of national -life--the self-consciousness of nations was too poor in content to serve -as the guide of actions making for progress. - -In the individual man, it is the growing richness and accuracy of -self-knowledge which alone enables him to direct his actions effectively -to secure his own welfare and to improve his character and powers. Just -so in nations the rapid growth of their self-knowledge and the -enrichment of their ideals of national life which characterise the -present time must render their self-consciousness a far more efficient -guide of all national deliberation and action. - -The self-knowledge of the individual grows chiefly, as we have seen, -through intercourse with his fellows; his idea of himself develops in -fulness and accuracy in the light of his knowledge of other selves, and -this knowledge in turn develops in the light of his increasing knowledge -of himself. Just so the self-knowledge of nations is now growing rapidly -through the intercourse of each nation with others, an intercourse far -freer, more multiplex, than ever before in the history of the world; a -result largely of the improved means of communication which we owe to -science and the spirit of inquiry. - -Perhaps the most striking illustration of the operation of this new -factor is the rapid spread in recent years of parliamentary -institutions. The parliamentary system of national organisation was -worked out in these islands by long centuries of more or less blind -conflict of ideas and parties and institutions; and now other nations in -rapid succession have observed and admired the system and have -deliberately and self-consciously adopted it; and still the process goes -on, as recently in Russia. - -Japan offers a striking illustration of the way in which the new factor -operates. An intelligent people in which the national sentiment was -strong, but in which national self-knowledge was rudimentary because of -the isolation of the nation, was suddenly brought into contact with -other peoples; through observation of them, it learnt its own -deficiencies and set about deliberately to remedy them in the light of -its new knowledge; and in doing so has reorganised itself from top to -bottom. - -In England also national self-knowledge is beginning rapidly to increase -in accuracy and extent. We have begun to compare ourselves at all points -with other nations, and are no longer content with the good old creed, -that everything British is best. We are learning in this way our -weaknesses; and the knowledge is becoming a main cause of accelerated -progress. The best illustration is, perhaps, the present stir over -educational questions, which is directly due to the increase of national -self-knowledge resulting from the observation of other nations. - -But in the future our national self-consciousness will be enriched and -fitted for the guidance of the national will in a still more effective -manner than by the knowledge of our weaknesses being forced upon us by -the nations who are our rivals in the world. In many directions--by the -historians, the biologists, the anthropologists, the statisticians--data -are being gathered for a science of society whose sure indications will -enable us deliberately to guide the further evolution of the nation -towards the highest ideal of a nation that we can conceive. In this way, -it may be hoped, the modern nations will be able to avoid that danger -which has destroyed the great nations of the past, and which has been -the dark cloud shadowing the brilliance of the age of progress that -resulted from increasing human intercourse and mutual understanding. In -this way the free play of the spirit of inquiry, which in all earlier -ages has been highly dangerous to the stability of nations and which, -while it was the sole cause of progress, nevertheless destroyed many of -the nations whom it impelled upon that path, will make for a greatly -accelerated progress; and, at the same time, it will enable us to -secure, by deliberate voluntary control, the bases of society, which in -all previous ages have rested solely upon custom, instinct, and the -religious sanctions. - -Not by any voluntary surrender of the reason, not by any subjugation of -the intellect to the dominion of obscure transcendental ideas, such as -is preached by Benjamin Kidd, Chatterton-Hill[154] and others who have -realized the disintegrating effects of intellect on earlier societies, -but by a more strenuous use of our intellectual faculties, and by a -growth of knowledge, especially a knowledge of the laws of human -societies, will the stability and further evolution of nations be -maintained. - -The nations whose progress will rest upon this basis will be in a -position very different from that of the older societies to which the -emancipation of the intellect was fatal. They fell for lack of knowledge -of natural laws, as soon as the progress of intellectual inquiry had -weakened their instinctive and customary bases. The modern nations may -reasonably hope that they are within sight of knowledge which will -enable them to avoid these dangers and to continue their progress during -an indefinitely long period. They may even hope to progress, not only in -respect of the intellectual and moral tradition, but also in respect of -racial qualities; for a better knowledge of the factors at work and of -the laws of heredity will enable them to put an end to the influences -now making for race deterioration and to replace them by others of the -opposite tendency. - -Such national progress will be truly teleological; it will be a progress -whose direction will be determined by the desire of an ideal end present -to the consciousness of all and striven after by the collective -deliberation and volition of the nation. - -Thus the group spirit, rising above the level of a narrow patriotism -that regards with hostility all its rivals, recognising that only -through the further development of the collective life of nations can -man rise to higher levels than he has yet known, becomes the supreme -agent of human progress. - - -FOOTNOTES: - - [1] _History of European Thought in the 19th Century._ - - [2] _Political Thought in England from Bacon to Halifax_, Home - University Library, p. 49. - - [3] Essay on "The Nature of Democracy" in _Popular - Government_, London 1885. - - [4] _Psychology, the Study of Behaviour_, Home University - Library, London, 1912. - - [5] _Community_, by R. M. Maciver, London, 1917. - - [6] _In Body and Mind_, London, 1911. - - [7] _Op. cit._ p. 76. - - [8] _Op. cit._ p. 77. - - [9] _Op. cit._ p. 90. - - [10] E. Barker, _Political Thought in England from Herbert - Spencer to the present day_, Home University Library, London, - 1915. - - [11] _Op. cit._ p. 11. - - [12] _Op. cit._ pp. 62-64. - - [13] _Op. cit._ p. 74. I consider Mr Barker's brief statement - of the nature of the group mind entirely acceptable, and it - has given me great pleasure to find myself in such close - harmony with it. It will perhaps give further weight to the - fact of our agreement, if I add that the whole of this book, - including the rest of this introductory chapter, was written - before I took up Mr Barker's brilliant little volume. - - [14] _Op. cit._ p. 175. - - [15] This principle of primitive sympathy or simple direct - induction or contagion of emotion was formulated in Chapter IV - of my _Social Psychology_. - - [16] It was my good fortune to witness the almost - instantaneous spread of anger through a crowd of five thousand - warlike savages in the heart of Borneo. Representatives of all - the tribes of a large district of Sarawak had been brought - together by the resident magistrate for the purpose of - strengthening friendly relations and cementing peace between - the various tribes. All went smoothly, and the chiefs - surrounded by their followers were gathered together in a - large hall, rudely constructed of timber, to make public - protestations of friendship. An air of peace and good-will - pervaded the assembly, until a small piece of wood fell from - the roof upon the head of one of the leading chiefs, making a - slight wound from which the blood trickled. Only the immediate - neighbours of this chief observed the accident or could - perceive its effect; nevertheless in the space of a few - seconds a wave of angry emotion swept over the whole assembly, - and a general and bloody fight would have at once commenced, - but that the Resident had insisted upon all weapons being left - in the boats on the river 200 yards away. The great majority - of the crowd rushed headlong to fetch their weapons from their - boats, while the few who remained on the ground danced in fury - or rushed to and fro gesticulating wildly. Happily the boats - were widely scattered along the banks of the river, so that it - was possible for the Resident, by means of persuasion, - threats, and a show of armed force, to prevent the hostile - parties coming together again with their weapons in hand. - - [17] _The Souls of Black Folk_, by W. E. B. Du Bois, London, - 1905. - - [18] _The Crowd_, p. 11. - - [19] In a recent work (_What is Instinct?_ by Bingham Newland) - the author, who shows an intimate knowledge of the life of - wild animals, seems to postulate some such direct telepathic - _rapport_ between animals of the same species. - - [20] See _The Dissociation of a Personality_, by Dr Morton - Prince; _Double Personality_, by A. Binet; _The Psychology of - Suggestion_, by Boris Sidis; _L'automatism psychologique_, by - Pierre Janet; and the descriptions and discussions of William - James in his _Principles of Psychology_. - - [21] _Philosophy of the Unconscious._ - - [22] _Die Psychophysik._ - - [23] _Psychologie des idées forces._ - - [24] _Les Sociétés animales_, Paris, 1877. - - [25] _Bau und Leben des Socialen Körpers._ - - [26] _Medicinische Psychologie._ - - [27] I have argued that the great increase of knowledge of the - functions and structure of the nervous system attained by - recent research does but provide for the argument a surer - basis of empirical data; and I have contended that some at - least of the cases of disintegration of personality are more - easily reconcilable with this view, than with the contrary - doctrine which regards the individual consciousness as the - collective consciousness of the brain-cells. See my _Body and - Mind_, a book I found myself compelled to write in order to - arrive at a reasoned judgment on this difficult problem, which - obtrudes itself at the outset of the study of group life. - - [28] _Social Psychology_, Chapter IX. - - [29] See especially A. Stoll's _Suggestion und Hypnotismus in - der Völkerpsychologie_, where the events of the French - revolution have been treated in some detail from this point of - view. - - [30] Hon. Maurice Baring in an article in the _Morning Post_ - of April 21, 1906. - - [31] _Social Psychology_, Chapter IX. - - [32] _Op. cit._ Chapter VII. - - [33] One great difference between the professional army, such - as that of England, and the citizen armies of Europe, consists - in the fact that the special sentiment for the army is - stronger in the former; the more general patriotic sentiment, - in the rank and file of the latter; though in the regular - officers of the continental army the sentiment for the army - itself is no doubt usually the stronger. - - [34] Cp. _The Pagan Tribes of Borneo_, by Ch. Hose and W. - McDougall, London, 1912. - - [35] _From Religion to Philosophy_, p. 77. - - [36] _Op. cit._ p. 82. - - [37] Cf. _The Pagan Tribes of Borneo_, by Ch. Hose and W. - McDougall, London, 1912. - - [38] Mr Cornford's book might in fact be entitled with greater - propriety _From Philosophy to Religion_. - - [39] 1 Oct. 1914. - - [40] _Les Fonctions mentales dans les Sociétés inférieures_, - Alcan, Paris, 1910. - - [41] At this point I would refer the reader to the discussion - of the self-regarding sentiment (Chapter VII) in my _Social - Psychology_. - - [42] For a brief history of the nation-state the reader may be - referred to Prof. Ramsay Muir's _Nationalism and - Internationalism_, London, 1917. He rightly describes - 'nationalism' as one of the most powerful factors in modern - history. It is, I think, obviously true that we may go further - and say that it is _the_ most powerful factor in modern - history. - - [43] _Op. cit._ p. 38. - - [44] _Op. cit._ p. 54. - - [45] _Op. cit._ p. 51. - - [46] Chapter II. On the question of the definition of the - terms 'mind' and 'character' I would refer the reader to my - _Psychology, The Study of Behaviour_, Home University Library. - - [47] Prof. Hans Driesch's conception of 'super-individual - entelechy' seems to be of this order, arrived at by the same - line of reasoning. See _Science and Philosophy of the - Organism_, Gifford Lectures, 1907. - - [48] _Psychological Laws of the Evolution of Peoples._ - - [49] As examples of the best work as yet accomplished in this - immense and fascinating field, I would refer the reader to the - books of M. Alfred Fouillée one of the most clear-sighted, - judicious, and readable of modern philosophers, especially his - _Psychologie des peuples européens_, his _Psychologie du - peuple français_, and his _Science Sociale Contemporaine_. - - [50] _Psychologie du peuple français_, p. 4. Paris 1903. - - [51] _Social Psychology_, p. 330. - - [52] _Les inégalités des races humaines._ - - [53] This fantastic doctrine has found its fullest expression - in Chamberlain's work _The Foundations of the Nineteenth - Century_. - - [54] Other prominent exponents of this view are Mr J. M. - Robertson in his book _The Germans_ and in his _Introduction - to English Politics_, and M. J. Finot in his _Race Prejudice_. - - [55] I here use this word in the large, loose and convenient - sense in which it is used by M. Tarde in his _Lois de - l'imitation_. I have examined the nature of imitative - processes more closely in my _Social Psychology_. - - [56] Meredith Townsend regards this as one of the leading - qualities of the peoples of India. See _Europe and Asia, - London, 1901_. - - [57] Cp. Ripley's _Races of Europe_ and Prof. H. J. Fleure's - _Human Geography in Western Europe_, London, 1919. - - [58] Cf. _The Black Republic_, by Sir Spencer St John and - _Where Black rules White_, by H. Hesketh Prichard. - - [59] M. le Bon and more than one Indian civil servant in - conversation. - - [60] By G. Lowes Dickinson, _Hibbert Journal_, Jan. 1911. - - [61] In the _Fortnightly Review_, Jan. 1910, and in his - _Social Environment and Moral Progress_, London, 1913. - - [62] _Physics and Politics._ - - [63] Cp. Ripley, _op. cit._ and Fleure, _op. cit._ - - [64] This was written in 1910, and now in 1919 the dissolution - which was so obviously impending is an accomplished fact. - - [65] The great myth of the racial unity and superiority of the - German people, which we have noticed above, has been - cultivated and propagated, with elaborate disregard for fact - by the German State and its henchmen in the universities and - elsewhere, in a deliberate effort to remedy by art the lack of - natural boundaries and of true national homogeneity. - - [66] In his _Works of Man_ Mr March Philips shews clearly the - influence of the Egyptian landscape upon the arts of sculpture - and architecture. - - [67] Cf. Sir S. Dill's _The Roman Empire from Nero to - Augustus_, London, 1905. - - [68] Since these lines were written a new mode of rapid - locomotion, namely the aerial, which has resulted from the - invention and rapid development of the internal combustion - engine, threatens to eclipse all others in its effects upon - the organisation of the world. - - [69] This state of affairs has no doubt been considerably - altered during the great war; the political education of - Germany, a painful but salutary process, is progressing - rapidly. - - [70] Cf. N. Angell, _The Great Illusion_. - - [71] Incipient nations have appeared where the Bantu stock has - produced occasionally great warrior chiefs such as Chaka and - Cetewayo. - - [72] _Psychological Laws of the Evolution of Peoples._ - - [73] I do not propose to examine in this book the much - discussed question--Are the leaders of a nation to be regarded - as produced by the nation according to the general laws of - biology and psychology, or as given to them by some - supernatural process? This question belongs to a branch of - Social Psychology which is not included in the volume. - - [74] _Psychologie du peuple français_, p. 13. - - [75] Ramsay Muir, _op. cit._ and J. Holland Rose, _The - Development of the European Nations_. London, 1905. - - [76] J. Holland Rose, _op. cit._ - - [77] I suggest that international emulation in this sphere may - prove to be an effective, probably the only effective, - substitute for war. - - [78] _Bau und Leben des socialen Körpers._ - - [79] _Decadence._ - - [80] Cf. A. Smith's _Village Life in China_. The author - insists on the lack of public spirit, of the idea of action - _pro bono publico_. - - [81] 1906. - - [82] In his _Theory of the State_. - - [83] By Schaffle, _op. cit._, and all the school of German - 'idealism'. - - [84] The substance of this chapter was contained in a paper - entitled 'The Will of the People,' read before the - Sociological Society and published in the _Sociological - Review_, 1912. - - [85] _Philosophical Theory of the State_ and Article in - _International Journal of Ethics_, 1907. - - [86] Cf. H. Rose, _The Development of the European Nations_ - and Ramsay Muir, _Nationalism and Internationalism_. - - [87] _The Russo-Japanese War_, Vol. II, p. 25. - - [88] _La Science Sociale contemporaine_, p. 115. - - [89] _Social Psychology_, Chapters V-IX. Dr Bosanquet's - failure (as it seems to me) to achieve a satisfactory account - of the social will is the inevitable consequence of the - inadequacy of his conception of individual volition. This is - set out in his _Psychology of the Moral Self_, where he shews - himself to be an uncompromising adherent of the - intellectualist tradition. He totally ignores the existence - and organisation of the conative side of the mind. His notion - of volition is based upon the now discredited theory of - ideo-motor action. - - [90] This was written before the war with Germany. - - [91] Emulation in the administration of backward peoples - offers perhaps the greatest possibilities as 'a moral - equivalent for war.' - - [92] Cp. Principal L. P. Jacks on the Japanese in his _Alchemy - of Thought_. - - [93] W. L. George, _English Review_, May, 1915, "The Price of - Nationality." "Anger, indeed, is the soul of what is called - the national will. To call it a will is perhaps too much, it - is an instinct and mainly an instinct to hate.... Love of - country is mainly hatred of other countries." - - [94] Cf. Gilbert Murray, _Collection of Addresses on The War - given at Bedford College_, 1915. - - [95] Incidentally he holds up my _Social Psychology_ as a - dreadful example of such an attempt and a woeful evidence of - the parlous state of present-day culture in England. Such - dislike of any attempt to understand that which we hold sacred - is intelligible enough in the vulgar, for whom all analysis is - destructive of the values they unreasoningly cherish. But it - may be hoped that men of letters who set out to defend - patriotism will learn to rise above this attitude, just as the - more enlightened leaders of religion are learning to welcome - psychological inquiry in their domain. - - [96] In these respects the Church alone can enter into serious - rivalry as an object of loyalty. - - [97] As Dean Inge has remarked--"If they love not those whom - they have seen, how shall they love those whom they have not - seen?" - - [98] Cp. Fielding Hall, _The Soul of a People_. - - [99] This, as President Lowell clearly shows in his _Public - Opinion and Popular Government_, is carried to an extreme in - America and lies at the root of many administrative evils. - - [100] President Lowell (_op. cit._) has clearly shown other - benefits resulting from the party system; he shows especially - how the party is needed to prepare a program and select - candidates, if the popular vote is to give expression to the - dominant opinion of the people. - - [101] Cp. his _Civilisation and Progress_. - - [102] On the nature and development of the moral sentiments in - the individual mind, see my _Social Psychology_, Chapter VIII. - - [103] _Op. cit._ p. 210. - - [104] In this connexion I would refer the reader to _The New - State_ by M. P. Follett (London, 1918), an interesting book in - which the true nature and function of collective deliberation - is forcibly expounded. - - [105] Cf. W. R. Patterson, _The Nemesis of Nations_, London, - 1906. - - [106] _Social Evolution_, _Principle of Western Civilisation_, - and _The Science of Power_. - - [107] _Essai d'une Psychologie politique du Peuple Anglais_, - Paris, 1903. - - [108] _Op. cit._ p. 20. - - [109] _History of Civilisation_, p. 137. - - [110] In this connexion it must be remembered that in Hindu - society the man of proved and acknowledged holiness is - permitted and encouraged to procreate a large number of - children. - - [111] _Europe and Asia._ - - [112] _Op. cit._ - - [113] Guizot asserted that, even when new ideas and - institutions have originated elsewhere, it has usually been - only by their adoption in France that they have been spread - through Europe (_A History of Civilization in Europe_). - - [114] I cite these passages after M. Boutmy, _op. cit._ p. - 168. - - [115] The most frank, perhaps somewhat exaggerated, expression - of the difference is _The Superiority of the Anglo-Saxon_, by - Ed. Demolins. - - [116] _History of Civilisation in England_, Vol. II, p. 114. - - [117] _Comment la route crée le type social_, Paris, Didot et - Cie. - - [118] _Histoire de la Formation particulariste_, Paris. - - [119] The reality of selective effect of migration is shown by - the stature of American immigrants; those from Scotland are - said to be two inches taller than the average Scotchman; and - De Lapouge shows (_Les Sélections Sociales_, Paris, 1896, p. - 367) that a superiority of stature almost as marked, may be - inferred for the French and German immigrants of America from - the statistics of the armies of the Civil War. - - [120] A. Reibmayer (_Inzucht u. Vermischung beim Menschen_, - Leipzig, 1897) insists upon the importance of isolation and - consequent inbreeding for the formation of superior strains - and subraces. He points out that the geographical barriers of - Europe have favoured in this way the production of distinctive - national types. Like Stewart Chamberlain, Flinders Petrie, and - others, he regards the dark ages of Europe as a period of - chaos directly due to the overcoming of these geographical - barriers and the consequent prevalence of crossbreeding on a - large scale. - - [121] _White Capital and coloured Labour._ - - [122] Aristotle says "want of men was the ruin of Sparta." - Fathers of three sons were exempted from military service, and - of four sons from all State burdens. - - [123] Several writers have pointed out the importance of these - facts and at least one professional historian has insisted - strongly upon them, namely O. Seeck in his _Geschichte des - Untergangs der antiken Welt_, Berlin, 1910, vol. 1. - - [124] On this topic cp. Dr Archdall Reid's _The Present - Evolution of Man_ and his _Principles of Heredity_, in which - books the effects of selection by disease and by alcohol are - vividly set out. - - [125] _Op. cit._ - - [126] O. Ammon, _Gesellschaftsordnung und ihre natürlichen - Grundlagen_, Jena, 1900. - - [127] De Lapouge, _Les Sélections Sociales_; cf. also W. - Alexis, _Abhandlungen zur Theorie der Bevölkerungs-und - Moralstatistik_, Jena, 1903, and W. Schallmayer's _Vererbung - und Auslese in ihrer soziologischen und politischen - Bedeutung_, Jena, 1910. - - [128] Ammon's Law. - - [129] Pointed out by Francis Galton and Fouillée. - - [130] On the other hand it tends (partly no doubt by - deliberate design) to spread itself by insisting upon the duty - of procreation. This effect is said to be very considerable in - French Canada and only to be partially counteracted by a very - high rate of infantile mortality. - - [131] _The Nineteenth Century_ for April, 1906. - - [132] In _National Life and Character_, a pessimistic though - intellectually stimulating book. - - [133] _Provident Societies_, by Sidney Webb, and _The London - Population_, by D. Heron. - - [134] It must be recognised also that in Great Britain - emigration has, during the last three centuries, tended in all - probability in the same direction as the various forms of - social selection--namely, to the deterioration of the home - population; for in all ages it is the bold and enterprising - persons who seek new homes in far countries, leaving the - weakly, the timid, the dull, and the defective behind in the - mother country. Even the convicts that we exported at one time - to our colonies were probably persons of more than average - capacity, though some of them may have been innately defective - in moral disposition. - - [135] _Études sur la sélection chez l'homme._ Paris, 1904. - - [136] _England and the English._ - - [137] Notably by Prof. Flinders Petrie in his _Revolutions of - Civilisation_. - - [138] _Op. cit._ p. 407. - - [139] De Laponge does not stand alone in this opinion. Many - biologists and leaders of thought have expressed it hardly - less strongly, though not all of them have attached so much - importance to the influence of the towns. It has been - expressed in general terms by Dr and Mrs Whetham (in the - _Hibbert Journal_ for Oct. 1911), by Dean Inge in a number of - forcible articles, by Mr W. Bateson in his 'Herbert Spencer - Lecture' for 1912, and by other writers in a number of - articles in the _Eugenics Review_ and other journals. - - [140] This conclusion may perhaps be said to be now generally - accepted by those who have given any thought to the matter. A. - R. Wallace argued strongly in this sense; the late Benjamin - Kidd set out the evidence impressively in his _Social - Evolution_, Chapter IX; and it is implied by all the many - writers who, as we have noted, agree in regarding the - processes of selection in the civilised nations as in the main - reversed or detrimental. - - [141] I refer the reader to my _Social Psychology_. - - [142] In this connection I may again refer to _The Pagan - Tribes of Borneo_, by C. Hose and W. McDougall. - - [143] It has been translated into nine languages and was - reprinted ten times in the first year after its publication. - - [144] Shortly before his death Mr Kidd published (in the year - 1918) his _Science of Power_. In this book he showed a - complete change of face on the question of the importance of - innate qualities. He denied all importance to changes of - innate qualities, whether for better or worse, because, as he - maintained, "the social heredity transmitted through social - culture is infinitely more important to a people than any - heredity inborn in the individuals thereof" (p. 273); and he - made in this book a violent and scornful attack upon the late - Francis Galton and upon all who follow him in believing that - the decay or improvement of the racial qualities of a people - are of importance for its prosperity and development, and who, - therefore, approve of Galton's effort to found a science of - Eugenics. Kidd did not anywhere in his last book acknowledge - that he had made this very great change of principle, which - completely undermines the whole argument of his _Social - Evolution_, but complacently suggested that, as Newton and - Darwin are regarded as the fathers of modern physical and - biological science respectively, so in the future Kidd will be - regarded as having founded anew in his _Social Evolution_ the - science of society. On reading the _Science of Power_ after - having written this chapter, I was amazed at this assumption - on behalf of a book whose most fundamental doctrine the author - had himself renounced, and I turned again to the earlier work - to verify my brief summary of its argument. I confess that it - is not easy to make sure of what the author was driving at. - But I find that Kidd, in discussing the influence of religious - systems, wrote (on p. 307) "Natural selection seems, in short, - to be steadily evolving in the race that type of character - upon which these forces act most readily and efficiently; that - is to say, it is evolving religious character in the first - instance, and intellectual character only as a secondary - product in association with it." On the following page I - find--"The race would, in fact, appear to be growing more and - more religious," and "a preponderating element in the type of - character which the evolutionary forces at work in human - society are slowly developing, would appear to be the sense of - reverence." And there are many other passages which, in spite - of the habitual lack of precision of Kidd's language, can only - be interpreted to mean that the improvement of moral or - religious character, on which he so strongly insists as a - feature of recent centuries, involves and depends upon - improvement of innate qualities in the mass of the people. - - [145] Otto Seeck (_op. cit._ vol. 1. p. 270) writes--"The - equipment of the legionaries remained unchanged from Augustus - to Diocletian: no improvements of tactics, no new munitions of - war were brought into use during more than three hundred - years. The Roman saw his enemies becoming ever more terrible, - his own army ever less efficient; for now this, now that, - Province was laid waste and all were threatened. It was, - therefore, to the most urgent interest of every citizen that - this state of affairs should be remedied; the most cultured - circles were familiar with the needs of the army, for all the - higher officers came from the class of Senators and nobles. - Nevertheless, there appeared not a single invention, which - might have assured to the Roman soldiers their erstwhile - superiority! Books indeed were written upon tactics, strategy - and fortification, but their authors almost without exception - were content to expound in a formal manner what their more - capable forefathers had taught; in this literature the - expression of any new idea was carefully avoided.... As in the - military sphere, so also was it in all others. Neither in - agriculture, nor in handicrafts, nor in the practice of - statecraft, did a new idea of any importance appear since the - first century after Christ. Literature and art also moved only - in sterile imitation, which became always more - poverty-stricken and technically feebler." - - [146] Cf. _La Cité Antique_ of F. de Coulanges. - - [147] A fact which provides another argument against - use-inheritance. - - [148] This was written before the Great War but needs, I - think, no modification. - - [149] Francis Galton and his disciples have produced much - evidence to show that the educated class of Englishmen - includes a very much larger proportion of strains of high - ability than the rest of the people, it having been formed by - the long continued operation of the social ladder. There is no - reason to doubt the truth of this conclusion. - - [150] Prof. S. Alexander, in his _Moral Order and Progress_, - was perhaps the first to draw attention to this form of the - struggle for existence. - - [151] This last sentence perhaps is only partially true. A - rigid system of State Socialism would involve a retrogression - in this respect. - - [152] As the Spaniards well-nigh exterminated in the name of - the Church the civilisation and the nations of Mexico and - Peru. - - [153] _Introduction to Social Psychology_. - - [154] _Heredity and Selection in Sociology_, London, 1907; - an interesting work similar in tendency to Kidd's _Social - Evolution_. - - - - -INDEX - - - Abdication of classes, 295 - - Abstract psychology, 2 - - ADAM SMITH, 4 - - Aesthetic faculty, 157 - - Africa and lack of leaders, 136 - - American homogeneity, 124 - - AMMON, O., 252 - - Analogy of national with individual mind, 147 - - Ancestor worship, 183 - - Ancient States, 285 - - ANGELL, N., 133 - - Anglo-Saxon origins, 238 - - Animal societies, 33, 66 - - Arab nation and Mahomet, 136 - - ARISTOTLE, 3, 192, 248 - - Army, as organised group, 51; - organisation, 81 - - Asiatics and authority, 114 - - Athens depleted, 248 - - - BAGEHOT, W., 201 - - BALFOUR, A. J., on decadence, 146 - - BARING, M., on Russians, 46 - - BARKER, E., 16, 18 - - BATESON, W., 262 - - BEATTIE CROZIER, 193 - - Bengal, 161 - - BENTHAM, 4 - - BINET, 32 - - BINGHAM NEWLAND, 29 - - Birthrate, 253 - - Blending of races, 241, 278 - - Boer armies, 58 - - BOSANQUET, on general will, 155 - - BOUTMY, 215, 221, 228 - - Brains, size of, 137 - - BUCKLE, 206, 217, 227, 255, 282 - - Bulgaria and war, 143 - - BURKE, ED., 181 - - BUTLER, 5 - - - Caste, 183, 271, 288 - - Celts, 235 - - CHAMBERLAIN, H. S., 108, 244 - - Chinese stability, 141 - - Christianity and morals, 267; - and progress, 274 - - Church, as a group, 95 - - Civilisation, and natural selection, 261; - defined, 204 - - Clans, 159 - - _Claqueurs_, 29 - - Classification of groups, 89 - - Climate and race qualities, 214 - - Collective consciousness, 31 _et seq._, 71; - mind, 12; - psychology, 21; - will, 48, 53, 173 - - Communications, freedom of, 132 - - COMTE, 5 - - Concreteness in psychology, 2 - - Conflict and progress, 296 - - Conquest and progress, 276 - - Contact of cultures, 283 - - Contagion of emotion, 27 - - Continuity, national, 145 - - CORNFORD, 70 - - Crowd, anger in Borneo, 26; - emotions, 39; - intelligence, 40; - suggestibility, 40 - - Crowds, 22 _et seq._ - - - DARWIN, 5 - - DE LAPOUGE, 241, 252, 253, 261 - - Deliberative organisation, 187, 191 - - DEMOLINS, ED, 226, 233 - - DICKINSON, G. L., 119 - - Differentiation of races, 201, 208 - - DILL, Sir S., 132 - - Dissociation of personality, 32 - - DRIESCH, H., 103 - - DU BOIS, 27 - - DURKHEIM, on race, 109 - - - Edict of Nantes, 252 - - Egyptian culture and nature, 128 - - Energy and climate, 221; - of races, 272 - - England and Germany contrasted, 146 - - Ephemeral groups, 88 - - Equality, ideal of, 184 - - ESPINAS, 33 - - Eurasians, 83 - - European progress, 287; - races, 114 - - Evolution of man, 209 - - - Factors of national development, 206 - - Family as essential group, 82, 165; - consciousness, 159 - - Fear in India, 218 - - FECHNER, 32 - - Feudal system, 291 - - FLEURE, J. H., 115 - - FOUILLÉE, 19, 101, 105, 139, 162, 255 - - French conquests, 184; - sociability, 223 - - Fusions of civilisation, 276; - by conquest, 277 - - - GALTON, F., 255, 291 - - Gauls, 231 - - General will, 53 - - Genetic view in psychology, 4 - - Genius and national life, 137 - - Geography and progress, 283 - - GEORGE, W. L., 178 - - German idealism, 15; - responsibility, 15; - organisation, 152 - - GIDDINGS, 5 - - GOBINEAU, 108 - - Gods, national, 102 - - GOOCH, 3 - - Good of whole and of all, 172 - - Greek people substituted, 247 - - GREEN, T. H., 15 - - Group action, types of, 57 - - Group mind, conditions of, 48; - defined, 9, 18 - - Group psychology, the task of, 7 - - Group spirit, 62 _et seq._, 302; - its merits, 79 - - GUIZOT, 223 - - - HAMILTON, Sir I., on Japanese, 162 - - HARTMANN, V., 33, 103 - - Hayti, 117 - - Hebrew nation, 159 - - HEGEL, 16 - - HERON, D., 258 - - Hierarchy of groups, 80; - of sentiments, 81 - - HILL, CHATTERTON, 301 - - Historians and psychology, 99 - - HOBBES, 3 - - HOLLAND ROSE, 143 - - Homogeneity of group, 23; - of nations, 121 - - HOSE, CH., 72 - - House of Commons, 189 - - - Idea of nation, 162, 173 - - Ideals, national, 183 - - Imaginative sympathy, 295 - - Impulse, national, 192 - - Independence, English, 224 - - India, and China contrasted, 124, 244; - and Western culture, 118 - - Individual, and group psychology, 6; - and social interests, 15, 152 - - Individualistic family, 237 - - Induction of emotion, 25 - - Infertility of peoples, 251 - - INGE, Dean, 262 - - Innate qualities, 110; - and culture, 112 - - Inquiry, spirit of, 275, 301 - - Intellect, disruptive effects of, 275 - - Intense emotion of crowds, 24, 29 - - Intercourse of peoples, 167 - - International rivalry, 144, 167 - - Irish qualities, 236 - - Isolation of China, 165 - - - JACKS, L. P., 167 - - JACOBI, 258 - - JAMES, WM., 32 - - JANET, P., 32 - - Japanese patriotism, 162 - - Jesuit system of education, 83 - - Justice, contractual, 288 - - - KIDD, B., 206, 267; - on GALTON, 268 - - KITCHENER, Lord, 64 - - - Leaders and national life, 135 - - Leadership in armies, 60 - - LE BON, 20, 28, 136 - - LE PLAY, school of, 231 - - LEVY BRÜHL, 74 - - Liberty, and progress, 287; - ideal of, 184 - - Limits of State, 188 - - LOCKE, 3 - - Locomotion, modes of, 132 - - LOTZE, 36 - - LOWELL, President, 187, 197 - - Lynching, 47 - - - MACIVER, R. M., 9 _et seq._ - - MAINE, Sir H., 5, 229, 270 - - MAITLAND, 18 - - MARIE, 20 - - MARX, K., 104 - - MATTEUZZI, 104 - - MERZ, TH., 2 - - MILL, J. S., on race, 108 - - Modern and primitive man, 120 - - Mongrel races, 140, 243, 279 - - MONTESQUIEU, 104 - - Moral tradition changing, 246 - - Morality, traditional, 264; - primitive, 264 - - MUIR, RAMSEY, 96 - - MUNSTERBERG, on Americans, 124 - - MURRAY, G., 178 - - My country, right or wrong, 174 - - - Nation, definition of, 97 _et seq._ - - National action, types of, 170; - genius, 139 - - Nationalism, 94, 164 - - Nationality a psychological problem, 143 - - Natural boundaries, 127 - - Negro race and leaders, 136 - - Negroes and American nation, 126 - - Neighbour, who is our? 298 - - Newspapers in national life, 133 - - Normans, 238 - - North Sea outrage, 192 - - Northmen, 238 - - - OLIVIER, Sir S., 244 - - Organic and higher unity, 157 - - Organisation, types of, 150; - from above, 153; - informal and formal, 197 - - Organism, contractual, 173 - - Outcastes, 85 - - - PAINE, 25 - - Paradox of group life, 20 - - Parliamentary traditions, 191 - - Patriarchal system, 234 - - Patriotism, 54, 164, 177; - disparaged, 181 - - PEARSON C. H., 257 - - PEARSON, KARL, 258 - - Pelasgians, 247 - - PETRIE, FLINDERS, 244, 260 - - Philippines, Americans in, 118 - - Philosophy of history, 105 - - Physical environment and race qualities, 202, 213 - - PLATO, 17, 83 - - Political philosophy, German, 152 - - Populations, increase of, 250 - - Practical interests and psychology, 3 - - Prestige, 64 - - PRICE, COLLIER, 260 - - PRICHARD, H. H., 117 - - Primitive Societies, 64; - sympathy, 25 - - PRINCE, MORTON, 10, 32 - - Progress, ideal of, 185; - of nations, 273 - - Protestanism, distribution of, 115 - - Public opinion, 192, 197 - - Punans of Borneo, 72 - - - Race qualities shape institutions, 116; - endurance of, 121; - crossing, 241 - - Racial differences, 111 - - REID, ARCHDALL, 252 - - Relations of sciences, 1 - - Religion and Reason, 259 - - Religious excitement, 27 - - RENAN, 4 - - Representative institutions, 198 - - Responsibility, communal, 68; - national, 144 - - RIPLEY, 115 - - Ritual, 92 - - Rivalry, national, 167 - - Roman Church and celibacy, 254; - civilization, 284 - - ROUSSEAU, 3, 53, 155 - - Russian armies, 59 - - - Satisfactions of group life, 78 - - Scandinavian conditions, 237 - - SCHAEFFLE, 35 - - SEECK, O., 250, 270 - - Selection by environment, 209; - by towns, 253; - reversed, 257; - sexual, 260; - group, 264, 272 - - Self-consciousness in crowds, 44; - of nations, 158, 160, 299 - - Sentiment, national, 164 - - SIDIS, 32 - - SIGHELE, 20 - - Social evolution, 211, 288; - organisation, 204, 211 - - _Social Psychology_, 1, 3 - - Sociology and psychology, 8 - - Solidarity of human race, 185 - - Spain depleted, 254 - - Sparta depleted, 248 - - SPENCER, H., 7 - - State and nation, 175 - - States, limits of size, 131 - - Status to contract, 285 - - ST. JOHN, Sir S., 117 - - STOLL, 46 - - Subraces, 120 - - Suggestibility and emotion, 41 - - Superiority, intellectual, 263; - of public opinion, 194; - racial and cultural, 120 - - Sympathetic action, national, 188 - - - TANCRED DE HAUTEVILLE, 239 - - Telepathy, 28 - - Tolerance, 294 - - TOLSTOI and anarchism, 152 - - TOURVILLE, H. DE, 231, 233 - - TOWNSEND, MEREDITH, 221 - - Tradition in political life, 191 - - Tribal conflict, 245; - consciousness, 159 - - Two party system, 190 - - - Unity of nation, 157 - - Utilitarianism, 3 - - - Value of nationality, 177 - - Variability of blended races, 140; - and progress, 280 - - Variation, spontaneous, 209 - - VOLNEY on colonists, 226 - - Voluntary groups, 77 - - _Vue d'ensemble_ in psychology, 2 - - - WALLACE, A. R., on our ancestors, 120 - - War and national unity, 142 - - WEBB, SIDNEY, 258 - - WELLDON, Bishop, on sons of clergy, 255 - - WHETHAM, 262 - - Will of the people, 156 - - WINGFIELD, STRATFORD, 179 - - Womb of peoples, 238 - - World communications, 133 - - Written Codes, influence of, 271 - - * * * * * - -THE CAMBRIDGE PSYCHOLOGICAL LIBRARY - -GENERAL EDITOR - -G. DAWES HICKS, M.A., PH.D., LITT.D. - -PROFESSOR OF PHILOSOPHY IN UNIVERSITY COLLEGE, LONDON - - -The progress of Psychology during the last half century has been both -rapid and extensive. Along the lines of theoretical inquiry significant -and far-reaching results have been attained; the methods of experimental -research have been successfully applied to a wide range of mental -phenomena; and it is now generally recognised that in connexion with the -subject-matter of many branches of scientific pursuit psychological -problems of fundamental importance present themselves for solution. 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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: The Group Mind - A Sketch of the Principles of Collective Psychology - -Author: William McDougall - -Release Date: September 22, 2012 [EBook #40826] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GROUP MIND *** - - - - -Produced by David Garcia, Turgut Dincer, R. Cedron and the -Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -</pre> - +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40826 ***</div> <h1>THE GROUP MIND</h1> @@ -14803,380 +14766,6 @@ Physiology, Zoology, Medicine, Education and Industrial Efficiency.</p> <td class="left padl4">By <span class="smcap">F. C. Bartlett, M.A.</span></td> </tr></table> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Group Mind, by William McDougall - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GROUP MIND *** - -***** This file should be named 40826-h.htm or 40826-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/0/8/2/40826/ - -Produced by David Garcia, Turgut Dincer, R. Cedron and the -Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: The Group Mind - A Sketch of the Principles of Collective Psychology - -Author: William McDougall - -Release Date: September 22, 2012 [EBook #40826] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GROUP MIND *** - - - - -Produced by David Garcia, Turgut Dincer, R. Cedron and the -Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - -THE GROUP MIND - - A SKETCH OF THE PRINCIPLES OF COLLECTIVE PSYCHOLOGY WITH SOME - ATTEMPT TO APPLY THEM TO THE INTERPRETATION OF NATIONAL LIFE - AND CHARACTER - - -BY - -WILLIAM McDOUGALL, F.R.S. - - LATE FELLOW OF ST JOHN'S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE, FELLOW OF CORPUS - CHRISTI COLLEGE AND WILDE READER IN MENTAL PHILOSOPHY IN THE - UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD - - - "Une nation est une ame, un principe spirituel. Deux choses - qui, a vrai dire, n'en font qu'une constituent cette ame, ce - principe spirituel. L'une est dans le passe, l'autre dans le - present. L'une est la possession en commun d'un riche legs de - souvenirs; l'autre est le consentement actuel, le desir de - vivre ensemble, la volonte de continuer a faire valoir - l'heritage qu'on a recu indivis." - ERNEST RENAN. - - - CAMBRIDGE - AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS - 1920 - - - - -TO - -PROFESSOR L. T. HOBHOUSE - - in admiration of his work in philosophy, psychology, and sociology, - and in the hope that he may discern in this book some traces of the - spirit by which his own writings have been inspired. - - - - -PREFACE - - -In this book I have sketched the principles of the mental life of groups -and have made a rough attempt to apply these principles to the -understanding of the life of nations. I have had the substance of the -book in the form of lecture notes for some years, but have long -hesitated to publish it. I have been held back, partly by my sense of -the magnitude and difficulty of the subject and the inadequacy of my own -preparation for dealing with it, partly because I wished to build upon a -firm foundation of generally accepted principles of human nature. - -Some fifteen years ago I projected a complete treatise on Social -Psychology which would have comprised the substance of the present -volume. I was prevented from carrying out the ambitious scheme, partly -by the difficulty of finding a publisher, partly by my increasing sense -of the lack of any generally accepted or acceptable account of the -constitution of human nature. I found it necessary to attempt to provide -such a foundation, and in 1908 published my _Introduction to Social -Psychology_. That book has enjoyed a certain popular success. But it was -more novel, more revolutionary, than I had supposed when writing it; and -my hope that it would rapidly be accepted by my colleagues as in the -main a true account of the fundamentals of human nature has not been -realised. - -All this part of psychology labours under the great difficulty that the -worker in it cannot, like other men of science, publish his conclusions -as discoveries which will necessarily be accepted by any persons -competent to judge. He can only state his conclusions and his reasonings -and hope that they may gradually gain the general approval of his -colleagues. For to the obscure questions of fact with which he deals it -is in the nature of things impossible to return answers supported by -indisputable experimental proofs. In this field the evidence of an -author's approximation towards truth can consist only in his success in -gradually persuading competent opinion of the value of his views. My -sketch of the fundamentals of human nature can hardly claim even that -degree of success which would be constituted by an active criticism and -discussion of it in competent quarters. Yet there are not wanting -indications that opinion is turning slowly towards the acceptance of -some such doctrine as I then outlined. Especially the development of -psycho-pathology, stimulated so greatly by the esoteric dogmas of the -Freudian school, points in this direction. The only test and -verification to which any scheme of human nature can be submitted is the -application of it to practice in the elucidation of the concrete -phenomena of human life and in the control and direction of conduct, -especially in the two great fields of medicine and education. And I have -been much encouraged by finding that some workers in both of these -fields have found my scheme of use in their practice and have even, in -some few cases, given it a cordial general approval. But group -psychology is itself one of the fields in which such testing and -verification must be sought. And I have decided to delay no longer in -attempting to bring my scheme to this test. I am also impelled to -venture on what may appear to be premature publication by the fact that -five of the best years of my life have been wholly given up to military -service and the practical problems of psycho-therapy, and by the -reflection that the years of a man's life are numbered and that, even -though I should delay yet another fifteen years, I might find that I had -made but little progress towards securing the firm foundation I desired. - -It may seem to some minds astonishing that I should now admit that the -substance of this book was committed to writing before the Great War; -for that war is supposed by some to have revolutionised all our ideas of -human nature and of national life. But the war has given me little -reason to add to or to change what I had written. This may be either -because I am too old to learn, or because what I had written was in the -main true; and I am naturally disposed to accept the second explanation. - -I wish to make it clear to any would-be reader of this volume that it is -a sequel to my _Introduction to Social Psychology_, that it builds upon -that book and assumes that the reader is acquainted with it. That former -volume has been criticised as an attempted outline of _Social -Psychology_. One critic remarks that it may be good psychology, but it -is very little social; another wittily says "Mr McDougall, while giving -a full account of the genesis of instincts that act in society, hardly -shows how they issue into society. He seems to do a great deal of -packing in preparation for a journey on which he never starts." The last -sentence exactly describes the book. I found myself, like so many of my -predecessors and contemporaries, about to start on a voyage of -exploration of societies with an empty trunk, or at least with one very -inadequately supplied with the things essential for successful -travelling. I decided to avoid the usual practice of starting without -impedimenta and of picking up or inventing bits of make-shift equipment -as each emergency arose; I would pack my trunk carefully before -starting. And now although my fellow travellers have not entirely -approved my outfit, I have launched out to put it to the test; and I -cannot hope that my readers will follow me if they have not at their -command a similar outfit--namely, a similar view of the constitution of -human nature. - -I would gratefully confess that the resolve to go forward without a -further long period of preparation has been made possible for me largely -by the encouragement I have had from the recently published work of Dr -James Drever, _Instinct in Man_. For the author of that work has -carefully studied the most fundamental part of my _Social Psychology_, -in the light of his wide knowledge of the cognate literature, and has -found it to be in the main acceptable. - -The title and much of the substance of the present volume might lead a -hasty reader to suppose that I am influenced by, or even in sympathy -with, the political philosophy associated with German 'idealism.' I -would, therefore, take this opportunity both to prevent any such -erroneous inference and to indicate my attitude towards that system of -thought in plainer language than it seemed possible to use before the -war. I have argued that we may properly speak of a group mind, and that -each of the most developed nations of the present time may be regarded -as in process of developing a group mind. This must lay me open to the -suspicion of favouring the political philosophy which makes of the state -a super-individual and semi-divine person before whom all men must bow -down, renouncing their claims to freedom of judgment and action; the -political philosophy in short of German 'idealism,' which derives in the -main from Hegel, which has been so ably represented in this country by -Dr Bosanquet, which has exerted so great an influence at Oxford, and -which in my opinion is as detrimental to honest and clear thinking as it -has proved to be destructive of political morality in its native -country. I am relieved of the necessity of attempting to justify these -severe strictures by the recent publication of _The Metaphysical Theory -of the State_ by Prof. L. T. Hobhouse. In that volume Prof. Hobhouse has -subjected the political philosophy of German 'idealism,' and especially -Dr Bosanquet's presentation of it, to a criticism which, as it seems to -me, should suffice to expose the hollowness of its claims to all men -for all time; and I cannot better define my own attitude towards it than -by expressing the completeness of my sympathy with the searching -criticism of Mr Hobhouse's essay. In my youth I was misled into -supposing that the Germans were the possessors of a peculiar wisdom; and -I have spent a large part of my life in discovering, in one field of -science after another, that I was mistaken. I can always read the works -of some German philosophers, especially those of Hermann Lotze, with -admiration and profit; but I have no longer any desire to contend with -the great systems of 'idealism,' and I think it a cruel waste that the -best years of the lives of many young men should be spent struggling -with the obscure phrases in which Kant sought to express his profound -and subtle thought. My first scientific effort was to find evidence in -support of a new hypothesis of muscular contraction; and, in working -through the various German theories, I was dismayed by their lack of -clear mechanical conceptions. My next venture was in the physiology of -vision, a branch of science which had become almost exclusively German. -Starting with a prepossession in favour of one of the dominant German -theories, I soon reached the conclusion that the two German leaders in -this field, Helmholtz and Hering, with their hosts of disciples, had, in -spite of much admirable detailed work, added little of value and much -confusion to the theory of vision left us by a great Englishman,--namely, -Thomas Young; and in a long series of papers I endeavoured to restate -and supplement Young's theory. Advancing into the field of physiological -psychology, I attacked the ponderous volumes of Wundt with enthusiasm; -only to find that his physiology of the nervous system was a tissue of -unacceptable hypotheses and that he failed to connect it in any -profitable manner with his questionable psychology. And, finding even -less satisfaction in such works as Ziehen's _Physiologische -Psychologie_, with its crude materialism and associationism, or in the -dogmatic speculations of Verworn, I published my own small attempt to -bring psychology into fruitful relations with the physiology of the -nervous system. This brought me up against the great problem of the -relations between mind and body; and, having found that, in this sphere, -German 'idealism' was pragmatically indistinguishable from -thorough-going materialism, and that those Germans who claimed to -reconcile the two did not really rise much above the level of Ernst -Haeckel's wild flounderings, I published my _History and Defense of -Animism_. And in this field, though I found much to admire in the -writings of Lotze, I derived most encouragement and stimulus from Prof. -Bergson. In working at the foundations of human nature, I found little -help in German psychology, and more in French books, especially in those -of Prof. Ribot. In psycho-pathology I seemed to find that the claims of -the German and Austrian schools were far outweighed by those of the -French writers, especially of Prof. Janet. So now, in attacking the -problems of the mental life of societies, I have found little help from -German psychology or sociology, from the elaborations of Wundt's -_Voelkerpsychologie_ or the ponderosities of Schaeffle, and still less -from the 'idealist' philosophy of politics. In this field also it is -French authors from whom I have learnt most and with whom I find myself -most in sympathy, especially MM. Fouillee, Boutmy, Tarde, and Demolins; -though I would not be thought to hold in low esteem the works of many -English and American authors, notably those of Buckle, Bagehot, Maine, -Lecky, Lowell, and of many others, to some of which I have made -reference in the chapters of this book. - -I have striven to make this a strictly scientific work, rather than a -philosophical one; that is to say, I have tried to ascertain and state -the facts and principles of social life as it is and has been, without -expressing my opinion as to what it should be. But, in order further to -guard myself against the implications attached by German 'idealism' to -the notion of a collective mind, I wish to state that politically my -sympathies are with individualism and internationalism, although I have, -I think, fully recognised the great and necessary part played in human -life by the Group Spirit and by that special form of it which we now -call 'Nationalism.' - -I know well that those of my readers whose sympathies are with -Collectivism, Syndicalism, or Socialism in any of its various forms will -detect in this book the cloven foot of individualism and leanings -towards the aristocratic principle. I know also that many others will -reproach me with giving countenance to communistic and ultra-democratic -tendencies. I would, therefore, point out explicitly at the outset that, -if this book affords justification for any normative doctrine or ideal, -it is for one which would aim at a synthesis of the principles of -individualism and communism, of aristocracy and democracy, of -self-realization and of service to the community. I can best express -this ideal in the wise words of Mr F. H. Bradley, which I extract from -his famous essay on 'My Station and its Duties.' "The individual's -consciousness of himself is inseparable from the knowing himself as an -organ of the whole; ... for his nature now is not distinct from his -'artificial self.' He is related to the living moral system not as to a -foreign body; his relation to it is 'too inward even for faith,' since -faith implies a certain separation. It is no other-world that he can not -see but must trust to; he feels himself in it, and it in him; ... the -belief in this real moral organism is the one solution of ethical -problems. It breaks down the antithesis of despotism and individualism; -it denies them, while it preserves the truth of both. The truth of -individualism is saved, because, unless we have intense life and -self-consciousness in the members of the state, the whole state is -ossified. The truth of despotism is saved, because, unless the member -realizes the whole by and in himself, he fails to reach his own -individuality. Considered in the main, the best communities are those -which have the best men for their members, and the best men are the -members of the best communities.... The two problems of the best man and -best state are two sides, two distinguishable aspects of the one -problem, how to realize in human nature the perfect unity of homogeneity -and specification; and when we see that each of these without the other -is unreal, then we see that (speaking in general) the welfare of the -state and the welfare of its individuals are questions which it is -mistaken and ruinous to separate. Personal morality and political and -social institutions can not exist apart, and (in general) the better the -one the better the other. The community is moral, because it realizes -personal morality; personal morality is moral, because and in so far as -it realizes the moral whole." - -Since correcting the proofs of this volume I have become acquainted with -two recent books whose teaching is so closely in harmony with my own -that I wish to direct my readers' attention to them. One is Sir Martin -Conway's _The Crowd in Peace and War_, which contains many valuable -illustrations of group life. The other is Miss M. P. Follett's _The New -State; Group Organization the Solution of Popular Government_, which -expounds the principles and advantages of collective deliberation with -vigour and insight. - -I am under much obligation to the general editor of this series, Prof. -G. Dawes Hicks. He has read the proofs of my book, and has helped me -greatly with many suggestions; but he has, of course, no responsibility -for the views expressed in it. - - W. McD. - - OXFORD, - _March 1920_. - - - - -CONTENTS - - -PREFACE - - -PART I. GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF COLLECTIVE PSYCHOLOGY - PAGES - CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTION. THE PROVINCE OF COLLECTIVE PSYCHOLOGY - - The need for a more concrete psychology--the conception of the - group mind--objections to the conception examined--the conception - not a new one but familiar in political philosophy and law--the - essential problem 1-20 - - CHAPTER II. THE MENTAL LIFE OF THE CROWD - - The crowd presents the phenomena of collective life in crude - and simple forms--the formation of the psychological crowd--its - peculiarities--spread and intensification of emotions--how that - takes place--the notion of 'collective consciousness' - provisionally rejected--the submergence of personality in the - crowd--the low intelligence of crowds--suggestibility--lack of - individual responsibility 21-47 - - CHAPTER III. THE HIGHLY ORGANISED GROUP - - The principal conditions of organisation--the army as the - type--how its organisation raises the soldier to a higher plane - of collective life--the nature of collective will - illustrated--influence of leaders 48-61 - - CHAPTER IV. THE GROUP SPIRIT - - The self-consciousness of the group--the group idea and the - group sentiment--the group consciousness in primitive - life--views of Cornford and Levy Bruhl examined--'collective - representations'--the peculiar merit of the group - spirit--multiple group consciousness--the hierarchy of - groups--interaction of groups 62-87 - - CHAPTER V. PECULIARITIES OF GROUPS OF VARIOUS TYPES - - Rudimentary groups--natural and artificial groups--purposive, - traditional and mixed groups 88-95 - - -PART II. THE NATIONAL MIND AND CHARACTER - - CHAPTER VI. WHAT IS A NATION? - - Difficulty of defining nationhood--Prof. Ramsay Muir's - definition not adequate--mental organisation, resting on - tradition, the most essential condition--lack of clear - conceptions has given currency to many obscure notions--the - study of nationhood essentially the work of group psychology 96-105 - - CHAPTER VII. THE MIND OF A NATION - - National character defined--conditions essential to its - formation--homogeneity a prime condition--the influence of - racial qualities on national character--the durability of - racial qualities--acquired mental homogeneity as illustrated - by the American nation--the influence upon it of geographical - conditions 106-130 - - CHAPTER VIII. FREEDOM OF COMMUNICATION AS A CONDITION OF NATIONAL LIFE - - Large nations impossible in the ancient world--the - tendency of nations to grow larger with increase of means - of communication 131-134 - - CHAPTER IX. THE PART OF LEADERS IN NATIONAL LIFE - - Nations owe their existence to influence of leaders--men of - genius--men of talent--their _role_ in national life 135-141 - - CHAPTER X. OTHER CONDITIONS OF NATIONAL LIFE - - A common purpose--war the unifier--national - responsibilities--continuity of national life--organisation of - the national mind analogous to that of the individual - mind--national self-consciousness--types of organisation 142-154 - - CHAPTER XI. THE WILL OF THE NATION - - Rousseau's doctrine of the general will--Prof. Bosanquet's - view inadequate--the national mind has both organic unity and - the unity of self-consciousness--increase of national - self-consciousness the leading fact of recent world - history--self-consciousness of nations developed by rivalry - and intercourse between them 155-168 - - CHAPTER XII. IDEAS IN NATIONAL LIFE - - The idea of the nation is constitutive--ideas work as forces - in national life only in virtue of sentiments grown up about - their objects--the notions of society as an organism and as - founded on contract synthesised in the conception of the - nation as a contractual organism--the value of nationality - examined--ideas of conquest--of ancestor worship--of liberty - and equality--of progress--of solidarity 169-186 - - CHAPTER XIII. NATIONS OF THE HIGHER TYPE - - National deliberation--the influence on it of organisation and - of traditions--certain advantages of the representative - system--public opinion arises from an informal - organisation--the problem of the high level of public - opinion--its solution to be found in the influence of leaders 187-199 - - -PART III. THE DEVELOPMENT OF NATIONAL MIND AND CHARACTER - - CHAPTER XIV. FACTORS OF NATIONAL DEVELOPMENT - - Civilisation does not imply improvement of racial - qualities--it abolishes selection by the physical - environment--it consists in improved intellectual and moral - traditions and is dependent on favourable social organisation 200-207 - - CHAPTER XV. THE RACE-MAKING PERIOD - - Differentiation of races from a common stock--human evolution - differs from that of the animals in becoming group - evolution--physical environment supplanted by social - environment and organisation--the direct effects of climate - on the body--on the mind 208-219 - - CHAPTER XVI. THE RACE-MAKING PERIOD (_continued_) - - Physical environment determines racial adaptation directly - by selection--indirectly by determining occupations and - social organisation--the protective spirit in France--the - spirit of independence in England--attempts of Buckle, - Boutmy and Sir H. Maine to account for these not successful 220-232 - - CHAPTER XVII. THE RACE-MAKING PERIOD (_continued_) - - The influence of occupations--the leading principle of the - school of Le Play--the development of the spirit of protection - in the people of Gaul--the development of the spirit of - independence in the ancestors of the English--the crossing of - races--its bad and its good results 233-245 - - CHAPTER XVIII. RACIAL CHANGES DURING THE HISTORIC PERIOD - - Race substitution--the population of Greece--internal - selection--its effects in Spain--various forms of social - selection--mostly negative or injurious to national - stock--economic selection and the social ladder--the innate - moral disposition--the question of its improvement 246-269 - - CHAPTER XIX. THE PROGRESS OF NATIONS IN THEIR YOUTH - - The rarity of progress--the conditions enabling progress--group - selection--in what has progress consisted?--views of Buckle and - Kidd--conquest and domination an early condition of - progress--variability of crossed races--influence of physical - environment--western civilisation and social organisation 270-286 - - CHAPTER XX. THE PROGRESS OF NATIONS IN THEIR MATURITY - - Liberty and social organisation--caste makes for rigidity--the - growth of toleration--imaginative sympathy increases with - increasing freedom of intercourse, bringing strife and - understanding--the group spirit as the main agent of further - progress 287-301 - - - INDEX 302-304 - - - - -CHAPTER I - -INTRODUCTION - - -THE PROVINCE OF COLLECTIVE PSYCHOLOGY - -To define exactly the relations of the several special sciences is a -task which can never be completely achieved so long as these sciences -continue to grow and change. It is a peculiarly difficult task in -respect of the biological sciences, because we have not yet reached -general agreement as to the fundamental conceptions which these sciences -should employ. To illustrate this difficulty I need only refer to a -recent symposium of the Aristotelian Society in which a number of -distinguished philosophers and biologists discussed the question "Are -physical, biological and psychological categories irreducible?" The -discussion revealed extreme differences of opinion, and failed to bring -the disputants nearer to a common view. The difficulty is still greater -in respect of the human sciences--anthropology, psychology, ethics, -politics, economics, sociology, and the rest; and it is not to be hoped -that any general agreement on this difficult question will be reached in -the near future. Yet it seems worth while that each writer who aspires -to break new ground in any part of this field of inquiry should -endeavour to make clear to himself and others his conception of the -relations of that part to the rest of the field. It is, then, in no -dogmatic spirit, or with any belief in the finality of the position -assigned to my topic, that I venture the following definition of the -province of psychology with which this book is concerned. - -I have chosen the title, "The Group Mind," after some hesitation in -favour of the alternative, "Collective Psychology." The latter has the -advantage that it has already been used by several continental authors, -more especially French and Italian psychologists. But the title I have -chosen is, I think, more distinctively English in quality and denotes -more clearly the topic that I desire to discuss. - -An alternative and not inappropriate title would have been "An Outline -of Social Psychology"; but two reasons prevented the adoption of this. -First, my _Introduction to Social Psychology_ has become generally known -by the abbreviated title _Social Psychology_. This was an unforeseen -result and unfortunate designation; for, as I have explained in the -Preface to the present volume, that other work was designed merely as a -propaedeutic; it aimed merely at clearing the ground and laying the -foundations for Social Psychology, while leaving the topic itself for -subsequent treatment. Secondly, I conceive Group Psychology to be a part -only, though a very large part, of the total field of Social Psychology; -for, while the former has to deal only with the life of groups, the -latter has also to describe and account for the influence of the group -on the growth and activities of the individual. This is the most -concrete part of psychology and naturally comes last in the order of -development of the science; for, like other sciences, psychology began -with the most abstract notions, the forms of activity of mind in -general, and, by the aid of the abstract conceptions achieved by the -earlier workers, progresses to the consideration of more concrete -problems, the problems presented by actual living persons in all their -inexhaustible richness and complexity. - -Until the later decades of the nineteenth century, psychology continued -to concern itself almost exclusively with the mind of man conceived in -an abstract fashion, not as the mind of any particular individual, but -as the mind of a representative individual considered in abstraction -from his social settings as something given to our contemplation fully -formed and complete. - -Two important changes of modern thought have shown the necessity of a -more concrete treatment of psychological problems. The first has been -the coming into prominence of the problems of genesis which, although -not originated by Darwin, received so great an impetus from his work. -The second has been the increasing realisation of the need for a more -synthetic treatment of all fields of science, the realisation that -analysis alone carries us ever farther away from concrete problems and -leads only to a system of abstract conceptions which are very remote -from reality, however useful they may prove in the physical sciences. -The biological and the human sciences especially have been profoundly -affected by these two changes of modern thought. As Theodore Merz has so -well shown in the fourth volume of his monumental work[1], the need has -been increasingly felt of the _vue d'ensemble_, of the synthetic mode of -regarding organisms, men, and institutions, not as single things, -self-contained and complete in themselves, but as merely nodes or -meeting points of all the forces of the world acting and reacting in -unlimited time and space. - -Psychology was, then, until recent years the science of the abstract -individual mind. Each worker aimed at rendering by the aid of -introspection an analytic description of the stream of his own -consciousness, a consistent classification of the elements or features -that he seemed to discover therein, and some general laws or rules of -the order of succession and conjunction of these features; postulating -in addition some one or more explanatory principles or active agencies -such as 'the will' or the desire of pleasure, the aversion from pain, or -'the association of ideas,' to enable him to account for the flow of the -distinguishable elements of consciousness. The psychology achieved by -these studies, necessary and valuable as they were, was of little help -to men who were struggling with the concrete problems of human life and -was therefore largely ignored by them. But, as I have pointed out in the -Introduction to my _Social Psychology_, those who approached these -problems were generally stimulated to do so by their interest in -questions of right and wrong, in questions of norms and standards of -conduct, the urgency of which demanded immediate answers for the -practical guidance of human life in all its spheres of activity, for the -shaping of laws, institutions, governments, and associations of every -kind; or, as frequently perhaps, for the justification and defence of -standards of conduct, modes of belief, and forms of institution, which -men had learnt to esteem as supremely good. - -Thus the political science of Hobbes was the expression of his attempt -to justify the monarchy established by the Tudors and endangered by the -failings of the Stuart kings; while that of Locke was equally the -outcome of his desire to justify the revolution of 1668. Hobbes felt it -worth while to preface his _magnum opus_ on political philosophy with a -fanciful sketch of human nature and of primitive society; yet, as Mr -Gooch remarks, "neither Hobbes nor his contemporaries knew anything of -the actual life of primitive communities[2]." And it may be added that -they knew as little of the foundations of human nature. Again, the -social doctrines of Rousseau, with all their false psychology, were -formulated in order to stir men to revolt against the conditions of -social life then prevalent in Europe. In a similar way, in the -development of all that body of social doctrine that went under the name -of Utilitarianism and which culminated in the political science and -economy of the Manchester School, every step was prompted by the desire -to find theoretical guidance or justification for rules governing human -activity. And, if we go back to the _Politics_ of Aristotle, we find the -normative or regulative aim still more prominent. - -Thus, in all the human sciences, we see that the search for what is has -been inextricably confused with and hampered by the effort to show what -ought to be; and the further back we go in their history, the more does -the normative point of view predominate. They all begin in the effort to -describe what ought to be; and incidentally give some more or less -fallacious or fantastic account of what is, merely in order to support -the normative doctrines. And, as we trace their history forward towards -the present time, we find the positive element coming more and more to -the front, until it tends to preponderate over and even completely to -supplant the normative aim. Thus even in Ethics there is now perceptible -in some quarters a tendency to repudiate the normative standpoint. All -the social sciences have, then, begun their work at what, from the -strictly logical point of view, was the wrong end; instead of first -securing a basis of positive science and then building up the normative -doctrines upon that basis, they have advanced by repeatedly going -backwards towards what should have been their foundations. Now the most -important part of the positive basis of the social sciences is -psychology; we find accordingly the social sciences at first ignoring -psychology and then gradually working back to it; they became gradually -more psychological and, in proportion as they did so, they became more -valuable. Modern writers on these topics fall into two classes; those -who have attempted to work upon a psychological foundation, and those -who have ignored or denied the need of any such basis. The earlier -efforts of the former kind, among which we may reckon those of Adam -Smith, Bentham, and the Mills, although they greatly influenced -legislation and practice in general, have nevertheless brought the -psychological method into some disrepute, because they reasoned from -psychological principles which were unduly simplified and in fact -misleading, notably the famous principle of psychological hedonism on -which they so greatly relied. Their psychology was, in brief, too -abstract; it had not achieved the necessary concreteness, which only the -introduction of the genetic standpoint and the _vue d'ensemble_ could -give it. Other writers on the social sciences were content to ignore the -achievements of psychology; but, since they dealt with the activities of -human beings and the products of those activities, such as laws, -institutions and customs, they could hardly avoid all reference to the -human mind and its processes; they then relied upon the crude -unanalysed psychological conceptions of popular speech; often they went -further and, aspiring to explain the phenomena they described, made vast -assumptions about the constitution and working of the human mind. Thus, -for example, Renan, when he sought to explain some feature of the -history of a nation or society, was in the habit, like many others, of -ascribing it to some peculiar instinct which he postulated for this -particular purpose, such as a political or a religious instinct or an -instinct of subordination or of organisation. Comte made egoism and -altruism the two master forces of the mind. Sir Henry Maine asserted -that "satisfaction and impatience are the two great sources of political -conduct," and, after asserting that "no force acting on mankind has been -less carefully examined than Party, and yet none better deserves -examination," he was content to conclude that "Party is probably nothing -more than a survival and a consequence of the primitive combativeness of -mankind[3]." More recently Prof. Giddings has discovered the principal -force underlying all human associations in _Consciousness of Kind_. -Butler and the intuitive moralists postulated 'conscience' or moral -sense as something innately present in the souls of men; while the -creators of the classical school of political economy were for the most -part content to assume that man is a purely rational being who always -intelligently pursues his own best interest, a false premise from which -they deduced some conclusions that have not withstood the test of time. -Similar vague assumptions may be found in almost every work on the -social sciences,--all illustrating the need for a psychology more -concrete than the older individual psychology, as a basis for these -sciences, a positive science, not of some hypothetical Robinson Crusoe, -but of the mental life of men as it actually unfolds itself in the -families, tribes, nations, societies of all sorts, that make up the -human world. - -The general growth of interest in genetic problems, stimulated so -greatly by the work of Darwin, turned the attention of psychologists to -the problem of the genesis of the developed human mind,--the problem of -its evolution in the race and its development in the individual. Then it -at once became apparent that both these processes are essentially -social; that they involve, and at every step are determined by, -interactions between the individual and his social environment; that, -while the growth of the individual mind is moulded by the mental forces -of the society in which it grows up, those forces are in turn the -products of the interplay of the minds composing the society; that, -therefore, we can only understand the life of individuals and the life -of societies, if we consider them always in relation to one another. It -was realised that each man is an individual only in an incomplete sense; -that he is but a unit in a vast system of vital and spiritual forces -which, expressing themselves in the form of human societies, are working -towards ends which no man can foresee; a unit whose chief function it is -to transmit these forces unimpaired, which can change or add to them -only in infinitesimal degree, and which, therefore, has but little -significance and cannot be accounted for when considered in abstraction -from that system. It became clear that the play of this system of forces -at any moment of history is predominantly determined by conditions which -are themselves the products of an immensely long course of evolution, -conditions which have been produced by the mental activities of -countless generations and which are but very little modified by the -members of society living at any one time; so that, as has been said, -society consists of the dead as well as of the living, and the part of -the living in determining its life is but insignificant as compared with -the part of the dead. - -Any psychology that recognises these facts and attempts to display the -reciprocal influences of the individual and the society in which he -plays his part may be called Social Psychology. Collective or Group -Psychology is, then, a part of this larger field. It has to study the -mental life of societies of all kinds; and such understanding of the -group life as it can achieve has then to be used by Social Psychology in -rendering more concrete and complete our understanding of the individual -life. - -Group Psychology itself consists properly of two parts, that which is -concerned to discover the most general principles of group life, and -that which applies these principles to the study of particular kinds and -examples of group life. The former is logically prior to the second; -though in practice it is hardly possible to keep them wholly apart. The -present volume is concerned chiefly with the former branch. Only when -the general principles of group life have been applied to the -understanding of particular societies, of nations and the manifold -system of groups within the nation, will it be possible for Social -Psychology to return upon the individual life and give of it an adequate -account in all its concrete fulness. - -The nature of Group Psychology may be illustrated by reference to -Herbert Spencer's conception of sociology. Spencer pointed out that, if -you set out to build a stable pile of solid bodies of a certain shape, -the kind of structure resulting is determined by the shapes and -properties of these units, that for example, if the units are spheres, -there are only very few stable forms which the pile can assume. The same -is true, he said, of such physical processes as crystallisation; the -form and properties of the whole or aggregate are determined by the -properties of the units. He maintained with less plausibility that the -same holds good of animal and vegetable forms and of the elements of -which they are composed. And he went on to argue that, in like manner, -the structure and properties of a society are determined by the -properties of the units, the individual human beings, of which it is -composed. - -This last proposition is true in a very partial sense only. For the -aggregate which is a society has, in virtue of its past history, -positive qualities which it does not derive from the units which compose -it at any one time; and in virtue of these qualities it acts upon its -units in a manner very different from that in which the units as such -interact with one another. Further, each unit, when it becomes a member -of a group, displays properties or modes of reaction which it does not -display, which remain latent or potential only, so long as it remains -outside that group. It is possible, therefore, to discover these -potentialities of the units only by studying them as elements in the -life of the whole. That is to say, the aggregate which is a society has -a certain individuality, is a true whole which in great measure -determines the nature and the modes of activity of its parts; it is an -organic whole. The society has a mental life which is not the mere sum -of the mental lives of its units existing as independent units; and a -complete knowledge of the units, if and in so far as they could be known -as isolated units, would not enable us to deduce the nature of the life -of the whole, in the way that is implied by Spencer's analogies. - -Since, then, the social aggregate has a collective mental life, which is -not merely the sum of the mental lives of its units, it may be contended -that a society not only enjoys a collective mental life but also has a -collective mind or, as some prefer to say, a collective soul. - -The tasks of Group Psychology are, then, to examine the conception of -the collective or group mind, in order to determine whether and in what -sense this is a valid conception; to display the general principles of -collective mental life which are incapable of being deduced from the -laws of the mental life of isolated individuals; to distinguish the -principal types of collective mental life or group mind; to describe the -peculiarities of those types and as far as possible to account for them. -More shortly, Group Psychology has, first, to establish the general -principles of group life (this is general collective psychology); -secondly, it has to apply these principles in the endeavour to -understand particular examples of group life. Group Psychology, thus -conceived, meets at the outset a difficulty which stands in the way of -every attempt of psychology to leave the narrow field of highly abstract -individual psychology. It finds the ground already staked out and -occupied by the representatives of another science, who are inclined to -resent its intrusion as an encroachment on their rights. The science -which claims to have occupied the field of Group Psychology is -Sociology; and it is of some importance that the claims of these -sciences should be reconciled, so that they may live and work -harmoniously together. I have no desire to claim for Group Psychology -the whole province of Sociology. As I conceive it, that province is much -wider than that of Group Psychology. Sociology is essentially a science -which has to take a comprehensive and synthetic view of the life of -mankind, and has to accept and make use of the conclusions of many other -more special sciences, of which psychology, and especially Group -Psychology, is for it perhaps the most important. But other special -sciences have very important if less intimate contributions to make to -it. Thus, if it be true that great civilisations have decayed owing to -changes of climate of their habitats, or owing to the introduction of -such diseases as malaria into them, then Climatology and Epidemiology -have their contributions to make to Sociology. If peculiarities of diet -or the crossing of racial stocks may profoundly affect the vigour of -peoples, Physiology must have its say. General biology and the science -of Genetics are bringing to light much that must be incorporated in -Sociology. Economics, although needing to be treated far more -psychologically than it commonly has been, has its special contribution -to make. These are only a few illustrations of the fact that the field -of Sociology is very much wider and more general than that of Group -Psychology, however important to it the conclusions of the narrower -science may be. - -In this book it will be maintained that the conception of a group mind -is useful and therefore valid; and, since this notion has already -excited some opposition and criticism and is one that requires very -careful definition, some attempt to define and justify it may usefully -be made at the outset; though the completer justification is the -substance of the whole book. Some writers have assumed the reality of -what is called the 'collective consciousness' of a society, meaning -thereby a unitary consciousness of the society over and above that of -the individuals comprised within it. This conception is examined in -Chapter II and provisionally rejected. But it is maintained that a -society, when it enjoys a long life and becomes highly organised, -acquires a structure and qualities which are largely independent of the -qualities of the individuals who enter into its composition and take -part for a brief time in its life. It becomes an organised system of -forces which has a life of its own, tendencies of its own, a power of -moulding all its component individuals, and a power of perpetuating -itself as a self-identical system, subject only to slow and gradual -change. - -In an earlier work, in which I have sketched in outline the program of -psychology[4], I wrote: "When the student of behaviour has learnt from -the various departments of psychology ... all that they can teach him of -the structure, genesis, and modes of operation of the individual mind, a -large field still awaits his exploration. If we put aside as unproven -such speculations as that touched on at the end of the foregoing chapter -(the view of James that the human mind can enter into an actual union or -communion with the divine mind) and refuse to admit any modes of -communication or influence between minds other than through the normal -channels of sense-perception and bodily movement, we must nevertheless -recognise the existence in a certain sense of over-individual or -collective minds. We may fairly define a mind as an organised system of -mental or purposive forces; and, in the sense so defined, every highly -organised human society may properly be said to possess a collective -mind. For the collective actions which constitute the history of any -such society are conditioned by an organisation which can only be -described in terms of mind, and which yet is not comprised within the -mind of any individual; the society is rather constituted by the system -of relations obtaining between the individual minds which are its units -of composition. Under any given circumstances the actions of the society -are, or may be, very different from the mere sum of the actions with -which its several members would react to the situation in the absence of -the system of relations which render them a society; or, in other words, -the thinking and acting of each man, in so far as he thinks and acts as -a member of a society, are very different from his thinking and acting -as an isolated individual." - -This passage has been cited by the author of a notable work on -Sociology[5], and made by him the text of a polemic against the -conception of the group mind. He writes: "This passage contains two -arguments in favour of the hypothesis of super-individual 'collective' -minds, neither of which can stand examination. The 'definition' of a -mind as 'an organised system of mental or purposive forces' is totally -inadequate. When we speak of the mind of an individual we mean something -more than this. The mind of each of us has a unity other than that of -such a system." But I doubt whether Mr Maciver could explain exactly -what kind of unity it is that he postulates. Is it the unity of soul -substance? I have myself contended at some length that this is a -necessary postulate or hypothesis[6], but I do not suppose that Maciver -accepts or intends to refer to this conception. Is it the unity of -consciousness or of self-consciousness? Then the answer is that this -unity is by no means a general and established function of the -individual mind; modern studies of the disintegration of personality -have shown this to be a questionable assumption, undermined by the many -facts of normal and abnormal psychology best resumed under Dr Morton -Prince's term 'co-consciousness.' - -The individual mind is a system of purposive forces, but the system is -by no means always a harmonious system; it is but too apt to be the -scene of fierce conflicts which sometimes (in the graver psychoneuroses) -result in the rupture and disintegration of the system. I do not know -how otherwise we are to describe the individual mind than as a system of -mental forces; and, until Maciver succeeds in showing in what other -sense he conceives it to have "a unity other than that of such a -system," his objection cannot be seriously entertained. He asks, of the -alleged collective mind: "Does the system so created think and will and -feel and act[7]?" My answer, as set out in the following pages, is that -it does all of these things. He asks further: "If a number of minds -construct by their interactivity an organisation 'which can only be -described in terms of mind,' must we ascribe to the construction the -very nature of the forces which constructed it?" To this I reply--my -point is that the individual minds which enter into the structure of the -group mind at any moment of its life do not construct it; rather, as -they come to reflective self-consciousness, they find themselves -already members of the system, moulded by it, sharing in its activities, -influenced by it at every moment in every thought and feeling and action -in ways which they can neither fully understand nor escape from, -struggle as they may to free themselves from its infinitely subtle and -multitudinous forces. And this system, as Maciver himself forcibly -insists in another connection, does not consist of relations that exist -external to and independently of the things related, namely the minds of -individuals; it consists of the same stuff as the individual minds, its -threads and parts lie within these minds; but the parts in the several -individual minds reciprocally imply and complement one another and -together make up the system which consists wholly of them; and -therefore, as I wrote, they can "only be described in terms of mind." -Any society is literally a more or less organised mental system; the -stuff of which it consists is mental stuff; the forces that operate -within it are mental forces. Maciver argues further: "Social -organisations occur of every kind and every degree of universality. If -England has a collective mind, why not Birmingham and why not each of -its wards? If a nation has a collective mind, so also have a church and -a trade union. And we shall have collective minds that are parts of -greater collective minds, and collective minds that intersect other -collective minds." By this my withers are quite unwrung. What degree of -organisation is necessary before a society can properly be said to enjoy -collective mental life or have a group mind is a question of degree; and -the exponent of the group mind is under no obligation to return a -precise answer to this question. My contention is that the most highly -organised groups display collective mental life in a way which justifies -the conception of the group mind, and that we shall be helped to -understand collective life in these most complex and difficult forms by -studying it in the simpler less elaborated groups where the conception -of a group mind is less clearly applicable. As regards the overlapping -and intersection of groups and the consequent difficulty of assigning -the limits of groups whose unity is implied by the term group mind, I -would point out that this difficulty arises only in connexion with the -lower forms of group life and that a parallel difficulty is presented by -the lower forms of animal life. Is Maciver acquainted with the -organisation of a sponge, or of the so-called coral 'insect,' or with -that of the Portuguese man-o'-war? Would he deny the unity of a human -being, or refuse to acknowledge his possession of a mind, because in -these lower organisms the limits of the unit are hard or impossible to -assign? Maciver goes on: "The second argument is an obvious fallacy. If -each man thinks and acts differently as a member of a crowd or -association and as an individual standing out of any such immediate -relation to his fellows, it is still each who thinks and acts; the new -determinations are determinations still of individual minds as they are -influenced by aggregation.... But this is merely an extreme instance of -the obvious fact that every mind is influenced by every kind of -environment. To posit a super-individual mind because individual minds -are altered by their relations to one another (as indeed they are -altered by their relations to physical conditions) is surely -gratuitous[8]." To this I reply--the environment which influences the -individual in his life as a member of an organised group is neither the -sum of his fellow members as individuals, nor is it something that has -other than a mental existence. It is the organised group as such, which -exists only or chiefly in the persons of those composing it, but which -does not exist in the mind of any one of them, and which operates upon -each so powerfully just because it is something indefinitely greater, -more powerful, more comprehensive than the mere sum of those -individuals. Maciver feels that "it is important to clear out of the way -this misleading doctrine of super-individual minds corresponding to -social or communal organisations and activities," and therefore goes on -to say that "there is no more a great 'collective' mind beyond the -individual minds in society than there is a great 'collective' tree -beyond all the individual trees in nature. A collection of trees is a -wood, and that we can study as a unity; so an aggregation of men is a -society, a much more determinate unity; but a collection of trees is not -a collective tree, and neither is a collection of persons or minds a -collective person or mind. We can speak of qualities of tree in -abstraction from any particular tree, and we can speak of qualities of -mind as such, or of some particular kind of mind in relation to some -type of situation. Yet in so doing we are simply considering the -characteristic of like elements of individual minds, as we might -consider the characteristic or like elements discoverable in individual -trees and kinds of trees. To conceive because of these identities, a -'collective' mind as existing _beside_ those of individuals or a -collective tree beside the variant examples is to run against the wall -of the Idea theory." Now, I am not proposing to commit myself to this -last-named theory. It is not because minds have much in common with one -another that I speak of the collective mind, but because the group as -such is more than the sum of the individuals, has its own life -proceeding according to laws of group life, which are not the laws of -individual life, and because its peculiar group life reacts upon and -profoundly modifies the lives of the individuals. I would not call a -forest a collective tree; but I would maintain that in certain respects -a forest, a wood, or a copse, has in a rudimentary way a collective -life. Thus the forest remains the same forest though, after a hundred or -a thousand years, all its constituent trees may be different -individuals; and again the forest as a whole may and does modify the -life of each tree, as by attracting moisture, protecting from violent -and cold winds, harbouring various plants and animals which affect the -trees, and so on. - -But I will cite an eloquent passage from a recent work on sociology in -support of my view. "The bonds of society are in the members of society, -and not outside them. It is the memories, traditions, and beliefs of -each which make up the social memories, traditions and beliefs. Society -like the kingdom of God is within us. Within us, within each of us, and -yet greater than the thoughts and understandings of any of us. For the -social thoughts and feelings and willings of each, the socialised mind -of each, with the complex scheme of his relation to the social world, is -no mere reproduction of the social thoughts and feelings and willings of -the rest. Unity and difference here too weave their eternal web, the -greater social scheme which none of us who are part of it can ever see -in its entirety, but whose infinite subtlety and harmony we may more and -more comprehend and admire. As a community grows in civilisation and -culture, its traditions are no longer clear and definite ways of -thinking, its usages are no longer uniform, its spirit is no longer to -be summed up in a few phrases. But the spirit and tradition of a people -become no less real in becoming more complex. Each member no longer -embodies the whole tradition, but it is because each embodies some part -of a greater tradition to which the freely-working individuality of each -contributes. In this sense the spirit of a people, though existing only -in the individual members, more and more surpasses the measure of any -individual mind. Again, the social tradition is expressed through -institutions and records more permanent than the short-lived members of -community. These institutions and records are as it were stored social -values (just as, in particular, books may be called stored social -knowledge), _in themselves nothing_, no part of the social mind, but the -instruments of the communication of traditions from member to member, as -also from the dead past to the living present. In this way too, with -the increase of these stored values, of which members realise parts but -none the whole, the spirit of a people more and more surpasses the -measure of any individual mind. It is these social forces within and -without, working in the minds of individuals whose own social -inheritance is an essential part of their individuality, stored in the -institutions which they maintain from the past or establish in the -present, that mould the communal spirit of the successive generations. -In this sense too a community may be called greater than its members who -exist at any one time, since the community itself marches out of the -past into the present, and its members at any time are part of a great -succession, themselves first moulded by communal forces before they -become, so moulded, the active determinants of its future moulding." An -admirable statement! "The greater social scheme which none of us can see -in its entirety"--"the spirit of a people" which "more and more surpasses -the measure of any individual mind"--"the communal spirit of the -successive generations"--"the community" which is "greater than its -members who exist at any one time"; all these are alternative -designations of that organised system of mental forces which exists over -and above, though not independently of, the individuals in each of whom -some fragment of it is embodied and which is the group mind. And the -writer of this statement is Mr R. M. Maciver; the passage occurs in the -section of his book designed to "clear out of the way this misleading -doctrine of super-individual minds." In the same section he goes on to -say that "every association, every organised group, may and does have -rights and obligations which are not the rights and obligations of any -or all of its members taken distributively but only of the association -acting as an organised unity.... As a unity the association may become a -'juristic person,' a 'corporation,' and from the legal standpoint the -character of unity so conceived is very important.... The 'juristic -person' is a real _unity_, and therefore more than a _persona ficta_, -but the reality it possesses is of a totally different order of being -from that of the persons who establish it." But, perversely as it seems -to me, Maciver adds "the unity of which we are thinking is not mechanic -or organic or even psychic." I cannot but think that, in thus denying -the organic and psychic nature of this unity, Maciver is under the -influence of that unfortunate and still prevalent way of thinking of the -psychic as identical with the conscious which has given endless trouble -in psychology; because it has prompted the hopeless attempt, constantly -renewed, to describe the structure and organisation of the mind in -terms of conscious stuff, ignoring the all-important distinction between -mental activity, which is sometimes, though perhaps not always, -consciousness, and mental structure which is not. The structure and -organisation of the spirit of the community is in every respect as -purely mental or psychic as is the structure and organisation of the -individual mind. - -Maciver very properly goes on to bring his conclusions to the pragmatic -test, the test of practical results. He writes: "These false analogies -... are the sources of that most misleading antithesis which we draw -between the individual and society, as though society were somehow other -than its individuals.... Analyse these misleading analogies, and in the -revelation of their falsity there is revealed also the falsity of this -essential opposition of individual and society. Properly understood, the -interests of 'the individual' are the interests of society[9]." But is -it true that the interests of the individual are identical with the -interests of society? Obviously not. We have only to think of the -condemned criminal; of the mentally defective to whom every enlightened -society should deny the right of procreation; of the young soldier who -sacrifices his health, his limbs, his eyesight, or his life, and perhaps -the welfare of his loved ones, in serving his country. It is true that -the progress of society is essentially an approximation towards an ideal -state in which this identification would be completed; but that is an -ideal which can never be absolutely realised. Nor is it even true that -the interests of society are identical with the interests of the -majority of its members existing at any one time. It is, I think, highly -probable that, if any great modern nation should unanimously and -wholeheartedly embark upon a thorough-going scheme of state-socialism, -the interests of the vast majority of individuals would be greatly -promoted; they would be enabled to live more prosperously and -comfortably with greater leisure and opportunity for the higher forms of -activity. It is, however, equally probable that the higher interests of -the nation would be gravely endangered, that it would enter upon a -period of increasing stagnation and diminishing vitality and, after a -few generations had passed away, would have slipped far down the slope -which has led all great societies of the past to destruction. - -The question may be considered in relation to the German nation. As will -be pointed out in a later chapter, the structure of that nation was, -before the Great War, a menace to European civilisation. If the Germans -had succeeded in their aims and had conquered Europe or the world, -their individual interests would have been vastly promoted; they would -have enjoyed immense material prosperity and a proud consciousness of -having been chosen by God to rule the rest of mankind for their good. -And this would have confirmed the nation in all its vices and would have -finally crushed out of it all its potentialities for developing into a -well-organised nation of the higher type, fitted to play an honourable -part in the future evolution of mankind. The same truth appears if we -consider the problem of the responsibility of the German nation for the -War. So long as that people might retain its former organisation, which, -I repeat, rendered it a menace to the civilisation and culture of the -whole world, its antagonists could only treat it as a criminal and an -outlaw to be repressed at all costs and punished and kept down with the -utmost severity. But, if it should achieve a new organisation, one which -will give preponderance to the better and saner elements and traditions -still preserved within it, then, although it will consist of the same -individuals in the main, it will have become a new or at least a -transformed nation, one with which the other nations could enter into -normal relations of amity or at least of mutual toleration, one which -could be admitted to a place in the greater society which the League of -Nations is to become. In other words, the same population would in -virtue of a changed organisation, have become a different nation. - -Although Maciver, in making his attack upon the conception of the group -mind, has done me the honour to choose me as its exponent, I do not -stand alone in maintaining it. I am a little shy of citing in its -support the philosophers of the school of German 'idealism,' because, as -I have indicated in the Preface, I have little sympathy with that -school. Yet, though one may disapprove of the methods and of most of the -conclusions of a school of thought, one may still adduce in support of -one's opinion such of its principles as seem to be well founded. I may, -then, remind the reader that the conception of the State as a -super-individual, a superhuman quasi-divine personality, is the central -conception of the political philosophy of German 'idealism.' That -conception has, no doubt, played a considerable part in bringing upon -Europe its present disaster. It was an instance of one of those -philosophical ideas which claim to be the product of pure reason, yet in -reality are adopted for the purpose of justifying and furthering some -already existing interest or institution. In this case the institution -in question was the Prussian state and those, Hegel and the rest, who -set up this doctrine were servants of that state. They made of their -doctrine an instrument for the suppression of individuality which -greatly aided in producing the servile condition of the German people. -Yet the distortions and exaggerations of the political philosophy of -German 'idealism' should not prejudice us against the germ of truth -which it contains; and the more enlightened British disciples of this -school, from T.H. Green onwards, have sought with much success to winnow -the grain from the chaff of the doctrine; and I cannot adduce better -support for the conception of the group mind than the sentences in which -a recent English writer, a sympathetic student of German 'idealism,' -sums up the results of this winnowing process[10]. Discussing the -deficiencies of the individualist philosophy of the English utilitarian -school, he writes: "Not a modification of the old Benthamite premises, -but a new philosophy was needed; and that philosophy was provided by the -idealist school, of which Green is the greatest representative. That -school drew its inspiration immediately from Kant and Hegel, and -ultimately from the old Greek philosophy of the city-state. The vital -relation between the life of the individual and the life of the -community, which alone gives the individual worth and significance, -because it alone gives him the power of full moral development; the -dependence of the individual, for all his rights and for all his -liberty, on his membership of the community; the correlative duty of the -community to guarantee to the individual all his rights (in other words, -all the conditions necessary for his, and therefore for its own, full -moral development)--these were the premisses of the new philosophy. That -philosophy could satisfy the new needs of social progress, because it -refused to worship a supposed individual liberty which was proving -destructive of the real liberty of the vast majority, and preferred to -emphasise the moral well-being and betterment of the whole community, -and to conceive of each of its members as attaining his own well-being -and betterment in and through the community. Herein lay, or seemed to -lie, a revolution of ideas. Instead of starting from a central -individual, to whom the social system is supposed to be adjusted, the -idealist starts from a central social system, in which the individual -must find his appointed orbit of duty. But after all the revolution is -only a restoration; and what is restored is simply the _Republic_ of -Plato[11]." The same writer reminds us that "both Plato and Hegel thus -imply the idea of a moral organism"; and he adds, "It is this conception -of a moral organism which Bradley urges. It is implied in daily -experience, and it is the only explanation of that experience. 'In fact, -what we call an individual man is what he is because of and by virtue of -community, and communities are not mere names, but something real.' -Already at birth the child is what he is in virtue of communities: he -has something of the family character, something of the national -character, something of the civilised character which comes from human -society. As he grows, the community in which he lives pours itself into -his being in the language he learns and the social atmosphere he -breathes, so that the content of his being implies in its every fibre -relations of community. He is what he is by including in his essence the -relations of the social State.... And regarding the State as a system, -in which many spheres (the family, for instance) are subordinated to one -sphere, and all the particular actions of individuals are subordinated -to their various spheres, we may call it a moral organism, a systematic -whole informed by a common purpose or function. As such it has an outer -side--a body of institutions; it has an inner side--a soul or spirit which -sustains that body. And since it is a moral organism--since, that is to -say, its parts are themselves conscious moral agents--that spirit resides -in those parts and lives in their consciousness. In such an organism--and -this is where it differs from an animal organism, and why we have to use -the word moral--the parts are conscious: they know themselves in their -position as parts of the whole, and they therefore know the whole of -which they are parts. So far as they have such knowledge, and a will -based upon it, so far is the moral organism self-conscious and -self-willing.... Thus, on the one hand, we must recognise that the State -lives; that there is a nation's soul, self-conscious in its citizens; -and that to each citizen this living soul assigns his field of -accomplishment[12]." On a later page of the same book we read--"All the -institutions of a country, so far as they are effective, are not only -products of thought and creations of mind: they _are_ thought, and they -_are_ mind. Otherwise we have a building without a tenant, and a body -without a mind. An Oxford college is not a group of buildings, though -common speech gives that name to such a group: it is a group of men. But -it is not a group of men in the sense of a group of bodies in -propinquity: it is a group of men in the sense of a group of minds. That -group of minds, in virtue of the common substance of an uniting idea, -is itself a group-mind. There is no group-mind existing apart from the -minds of the members of the group; the group-mind only exists in the -minds of its members. But nevertheless it exists. There is a college -mind, just as there is a Trade Union mind, or even a 'public mind' of -the whole community; and we are all conscious of such a mind as -something that exists in and along with the separate minds of the -members, and over and above any sum of those minds created by mere -addition[13]." - -The political philosophers of the idealist school have not stood alone -in recognising the reality of the group mind. Some of the lawyers, -notably Maitland, have arrived at a very similar doctrine; and I cannot -better summarise their conclusions than Barker has done in the following -passage in the book from which I have already cited so freely. "The new -doctrine," he writes, "runs somewhat as follows. No permanent group, -permanently organised for a durable object, can be regarded as a mere -sum of persons, whose union, to have any rights or duties, must receive -a legal confirmation. Permanent groups are themselves persons, -group-persons, with a group-will of their own and a permanent character -of their own; and they have become group-persons of themselves, without -any creative act of the State. In a word, group-persons are real -persons; and just because they are so, and possess such attributes of -persons as will and character, they cannot have been made by the -State[14]." - -I am not alone, then, in postulating the reality of the group mind. And -I am glad to be able to cite evidence of this, because I know well that -very many readers may at first find themselves repelled by this notion -of a group mind, and that some of them will incline to regard it as the -fantastic fad of an academic crank. - -I would say at once that the crucial point of difference between my own -view of the group mind and that of the German 'idealist' school (at -least in its more extreme representatives) is that I repudiate, -provisionally at least, as an unverifiable hypothesis the conception of -a collective or super-individual consciousness, somehow comprising the -consciousness of the individuals composing the group. I have examined -this conception in the following chapter and have stated my grounds for -rejecting it. The difference of practical conclusions arising from this -difference of theory must obviously be very great. - -Several books dealing with collective psychology have been published in -recent years. Of these perhaps the most notable are G. le Bon's -_Psychology of the Crowd_, his _Evolution psychologique des peuples_; -Sighele's _La foule criminelle_; the _Psychologie collective_ of Dr A. -A. Marie; and Alfred Fouillee's _La Science sociale contemporaine_. It -is noteworthy that, with the exception of the last, all these books deal -only with crowds or groups of low organisation; and their authors, like -almost all others who have touched on this subject, are concerned -chiefly to point out how participation in the group life degrades the -individual, how the group feels and thinks and acts on a much lower -plane than the average plane of the individuals who compose it. - -On the other hand, many writers have insisted on the fact that it is -only by participation in the life of society that any man can realise -his higher potentialities; that society has ideals and aims and -traditions loftier than any principles of conduct the individual can -form for himself unaided; and that only by the further evolution of -organised society can mankind be raised to higher levels; just as in the -past it has been only through the development of organised society that -the life of man has ceased to deserve the epithets 'nasty, brutish and -short' which Hobbes applied to it. - -We seem then to stand before a paradox. Participation in group life -degrades the individual, assimilating his mental processes to those of -the crowd, whose brutality, inconstancy, and unreasoning impulsiveness -have been the theme of many writers; yet only by participation in group -life does man become fully man, only so does he rise above the level of -the savage. - -The resolution of this paradox is the essential theme of this book. It -examines and fully recognises the mental and moral defects of the crowd -and its degrading effects upon all those who are caught up in it and -carried away by the contagion of its reckless spirit. It then goes on to -show how organisation of the group may, and generally does in large -measure, counteract these degrading tendencies; and how the better kinds -of organisation render group life the great ennobling influence by aid -of which alone man rises a little above the animals and may even aspire -to fellowship with the angels. - - - - -PART I - -GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF COLLECTIVE PSYCHOLOGY - - - - -CHAPTER II - -THE MENTAL LIFE OF THE CROWD - - -It is a notorious fact that, when a number of men think and feel and act -together, the mental operations and the actions of each member of the -group are apt to be very different from those he would achieve if he -faced the situation as an isolated individual. Hence, though we may know -each member of a group so intimately that we can, with some confidence, -foretell his actions under given circumstances, we cannot foretell the -behaviour of the group from our knowledge of the individuals alone. If -we would understand and be able to predict the behaviour of the group, -we must study the way in which the mental processes of its members are -modified in virtue of their membership. That is to say, we must study -the interactions between the members of the group and also those between -the group as a whole and each member. We must examine also the forms of -group organisation and their influence upon the life of the group. - -Groups differ greatly from one another in respect of the kind and degree -of organisation they possess. In the simplest case the group has no -organisation. In some cases the relations of the constituent individuals -to one another and to the whole group are not in any way determined or -fixed by previous events; such a group constitutes merely a mob. In -other groups the individuals have certain determinate relations to one -another which have arisen in one or more of three ways: - -(1) Certain relations may have been established between the individuals, -before they came together to form a group; for example, a parish council -or a political meeting may be formed by persons belonging to various -definitely recognised classes, and their previously recognised relations -will continue to play a part in determining the collective -deliberations and actions of the group; they will constitute an -incipient organisation. - -(2) If any group enjoys continuity of existence, certain more or less -constant relations, of subordination, deference, leadership and so -forth, will inevitably become established between the individuals of -which it is composed; and, of course, such relations will usually be -deliberately established and maintained by any group that is united by a -common purpose, in order that its efficiency may be promoted. - -(3) The group may have a continued existence and a more or less -elaborate and definite organisation independently of the individuals of -which it is composed; in such a case the individuals may change while -the formal organisation of the group persists; each person who enters it -being received into some more or less well-defined and generally -recognised position within the group, which formal position determines -in great measure the nature of his relations to other members of the -group and to the group as a whole. - -We can hardly imagine any concourse of human beings, however fortuitous -it may be, utterly devoid of the rudiments of organisation of one or -other of these three kinds; nevertheless, in many a fortuitous concourse -the influence of such rudimentary organisation is so slight as to be -negligible. Such a group is an unorganised crowd or mob. The unorganised -crowd presents many of the fundamental phenomena of collective -psychology in relative simplicity; whereas the higher the degree of -organisation of a group, the more complicated is its psychology. We -shall, therefore, study first the mental peculiarities of the -unorganised crowd, and shall then go on to consider the modifications -resulting from a simple and definite type of organisation. - -Not every mass of human beings gathered together in one place within -sight and sound of one another constitutes a crowd in the psychological -sense of the word. There is a dense gathering of several hundred -individuals at the Mansion House Crossing at noon of every week-day; but -ordinarily each of them is bent upon his own task, pursues his own ends, -paying little or no regard to those about him. But let a fire-engine -come galloping through the throng of traffic, or the Lord Mayor's state -coach arrive, and instantly the concourse assumes in some degree the -character of a psychological crowd. All eyes are turned upon the -fire-engine or coach; the attention of all is directed to the same -object; all experience in some degree the same emotion, and the state of -mind of each person is in some degree affected by the mental processes -of all those about him. Those are the fundamental conditions of -collective mental life. In its more developed forms, an awareness of the -crowd or group as such in the mind of each member plays an important -part; but this is not an essential condition of its simpler -manifestations. The essential conditions of collective mental action -are, then, a common object of mental activity, a common mode of feeling -in regard to it, and some degree of reciprocal influence between the -members of the group. It follows that not every aggregation of -individuals is capable of becoming a psychological crowd and of enjoying -a collective life. For the individuals must be capable of being -interested in the same objects and of being affected in a similar way by -them; there must be a certain degree of similarity of mental -constitution among the individuals, a certain mental homogeneity of the -group. Let a man stand on a tub in the midst of a gathering of a hundred -Englishmen and proceed to denounce and abuse England; those individuals -at once become a crowd. Whereas, if the hundred men were of as many -races and nations, their attention would hardly be attracted by the -orator; for they would have no common interest in the topic of his -discourse. Or let the man on the tub denounce the establishment of the -Church of England, and the hundred Englishmen do not become a crowd; -for, although all may be interested and attentive, the words of the -orator evoke in them very diverse feelings and emotions, the sentiments -they entertain for the Church of England being diverse in character. - -There must, then, be some degree of similarity of mental constitution, -of interest and sentiment, among the persons who form a crowd, a certain -degree of mental homogeneity of the group. And the higher the degree of -this mental homogeneity of any gathering of men, the more readily do -they form a psychological crowd and the more striking and intense are -the manifestations of collective life. All gatherings of men that are -not purely fortuitous are apt to have a considerable degree of mental -homogeneity; thus the members of a political meeting are drawn together -by common political opinions and sentiments; the audience in a concert -room shares a common love of music or a common admiration for the -composer, conductor, or great executant; and a still higher degree of -homogeneity prevails when a number of persons of the same religious -persuasion are gathered together at a great revival meeting. Consider -how under such circumstances a very ordinary joke or point made by a -political orator provokes a huge delight; how, at a concert, the -admiration of the applauding audience swells to a pitch of frantic -enthusiasm; how, at the skilfully conducted and successful revival -meeting, the fervour of emotion is apt to rise, until it exceeds all -normal modes of expression and men and women give way to loud weeping or -even hysterical convulsions. - -Such exaltation or intensification of emotion is the most striking -result of the formation of a crowd, and is one of the principal sources -of the attractiveness of the crowd. By participation in the mental life -of a crowd, one's emotions are stirred to a pitch that they seldom or -never attain under other conditions. This is for most men an intensely -pleasurable experience; they are, as they say, carried out of -themselves, they feel themselves caught up in a great wave of emotion, -and cease to be aware of their individuality and all its limitations; -that isolation of the individual, which oppresses every one of us, -though it may not be explicitly formulated in his consciousness, is for -the time being abolished. The repeated enjoyment of effects of this kind -tends to generate a craving for them, and also a facility in the spread -and intensification of emotion in this way; this is probably the -principal cause of the greater excitability of urban populations as -compared with dwellers in the country, and of the well-known violence -and fickleness of the mobs of great cities. - -There is one kind of object in the presence of which no man remains -indifferent and which evokes in almost all men the same emotion, namely -impending danger; hence the sudden appearance of imminent danger may -instantaneously convert any concourse of people into a crowd and produce -the characteristic and terrible phenomena of a panic. In each man the -instinct of fear is intensely excited; he experiences that horrible -emotion in full force and is irresistibly impelled to save himself by -flight. The terrible driving power of this impulse, excited to its -highest pitch under the favouring conditions, suppresses all other -impulses and tendencies, all habits of self-restraint, of courtesy and -consideration for others; and we see men, whom we might have supposed -incapable of cruel or cowardly behaviour, trampling upon women and -children, in their wild efforts to escape from the burning theatre, the -sinking ship, or other place of danger. - -The panic is the crudest and simplest example of collective mental life. -Groups of gregarious animals are liable to panic; and the panic of a -crowd of human beings seems to be generated by the same simple -instinctive reactions as the panic of animals. The essence of the panic -is the collective intensification of the instinctive excitement, with -its emotion of fear and its impulse to night. The principle of primitive -sympathy[15] seems to afford a full and adequate explanation of such -collective intensification of instinctive excitement. The principle is -that, in man and in the gregarious animals generally, each instinct, -with its characteristic primary emotion and specific impulse, is capable -of being excited in one individual by the expressions of the same -emotion in another, in virtue of a special congenital adaptation of the -instinct on its Cognitive or perceptual side. In the crowd, then, the -expressions of fear of each individual are perceived by his neighbours; -and this perception intensifies the fear directly excited in them by the -threatening danger. Each man perceives on every hand the symptoms of -fear, the blanched distorted faces, the dilated pupils, the high-pitched -trembling voices, and the screams of terror of his fellows; and with -each such perception his own impulse and his own emotion rise to a -higher pitch of intensity, and their expressions become correspondingly -accentuated and more difficult to control. So the expressions of each -member of the crowd work upon all other members within sight and hearing -of him to intensify their excitement; and the accentuated expressions of -the emotion, so intensified, react upon him to raise his own excitement -to a still higher pitch; until in all individuals the instinct is -excited in the highest possible degree. - -This principle of direct induction of emotion by way of the primitive -sympathetic response enables us to understand the fact that a concourse -of people (or animals) may be quickly turned into a panic-stricken crowd -by some threatening object which is perceptible by only a few of the -individuals present. A few persons near the stage of a theatre see -flames dart out among the wings; then, though the flames may be -invisible to the rest of the house, the expressions of the startled few -induce fear in their neighbours, and the excitement sweeps over the -whole concourse like fire blown across the prairie. - -The same principle enables us to understand how a few fearless -individuals may arrest the spread of a panic. If they experience no -fear, or can completely arrest its expressions, and can in any way make -themselves prominent, can draw and hold the attention of their fellows -to themselves, then these others, instead of perceiving on every hand -only the expressions of fear, perceive these few calm and resolute -individuals; the process of reciprocal intensification of the excitement -is checked and, if the danger is not too imminent and obvious, the panic -may die away, leaving men ashamed and astonished at the intensity of -their emotion and the violent irrational character of their behaviour. - -Other of the cruder primary emotions may spread through a crowd in very -similar fashion, though the process is rarely so rapid and intense as in -the case of fear[16]. And in every case the principal cause of the -intensification of the emotion is the reciprocal action between the -members of the crowd, according to the principle of sympathetic -induction of emotion in one individual by its expressions in others. - -In panic, the dominance of the one emotion and its impulse is so -complete as to allow no scope for any of the subtler modes of collective -mental operation. But in other cases other conditions co-operate to -determine the character of the emotional response of the crowd. Of these -the most important are the awareness of the crowd as a whole in the mind -of each member of it and his consciousness of his membership in the -whole. When a common emotion pervades the crowd, each member becomes -more or less distinctly aware of the fact; and this gives him a sense of -sharing in a mighty and irresistible power which renders him reckless of -consequences and encourages him to give himself up to the prevailing -emotion without restraint. Thus, in the case of an audience swept by an -emotion of admiration for a brilliant singer, the thunder of applause, -which shows each individual that his emotion is shared by all the rest, -intensifies his own emotion, not only by way of sympathetic induction, -but also because it frees him from that restraint of emotion which is -habitual with most of us in the presence of any critical or adversely -disposed spectators, and which the mere thought of such spectators tends -to maintain and strengthen. Again, the oratory of a demagogue, if -addressed to a large crowd, will raise angry emotion to a pitch of -intensity far higher than any it will attain if he is heard by a few -persons only; and this is due not only to accentuation of the emotion by -sympathetic induction, but also to the fact that, as the symptoms of the -emotion begin to be manifested on all sides, each man becomes aware that -it pervades the crowd, that the crowd as a whole is swayed by the same -emotion and the same impulse as he himself feels, that none remains to -criticise the violence of his expressions. To which it must be added -that the consciousness of the harmony of one's feelings with those of a -mass of one's fellows, and the consequent sense of freedom from all -restraint, are highly pleasurable to most men; they find a pleasure in -letting themselves go, in being swept away in the torrent of collective -emotion. This is one of the secrets of the fascination which draws many -thousands of spectators to a football match, and brings together the -multitudes of base-ball 'fans' bubbling over with eager anticipation of -an emotional orgy. - -The fact that the emotions of crowds are apt to be very violent has long -been recognised, and the popular mind, in seeking to account for it, has -commonly postulated very special and even supernatural causes. The negro -author of a most interesting book[17] has given the following -description of the religious frenzy of a crowd of Christian negroes: "An -air of intense excitement possessed the mass of black folk. A suppressed -terror hung in the air and seemed to seize us,--a pythian madness, a -demoniac possession, that lent terrible reality to song and word. The -massive form of the preacher swayed and quivered as the words crowded to -his lips. The people moaned and fluttered and then a gaunt brown woman -suddenly leaped into the air and shrieked like a lost soul, while round -about came wail and groan and outcry, a scene of human passion such as I -had never even imagined." The author goes on to say that this frenzy is -attributed by the black folk to the direct influence of the Spirit of -the Lord, making mad the worshippers with supernatural joy, and that -this belief is one of the leading features of their religion. Similar -practices, depending upon the tendency of collective emotion to rise to -an extreme intensity, have been common to the peoples of many lands in -all ages; and similar supernatural explanations have been commonly -devised and accepted. I need only remind the reader of the Dionysiac -orgies of ancient Greece. - -The facts are so striking that for the popular mind they remain -unaccountable, and not to be mentioned without some vague reference to -magnetism, electricity, hypnotism, or some mysterious contagion; and -even modern scientific writers have been led to adopt somewhat -extravagant hypotheses to account for them. Thus Dr Le Bon[18] speaks of -"the magnetic influence given out by the crowd" and says that, owing to -this influence, "or from some other cause of which we are ignorant, an -individual immerged for some length of time in a crowd in action soon -finds himself in a special state, which much resembles the state of -fascination in which the hypnotised individual finds himself in the -hands of the hypnotiser." He goes on to say that in the hypnotised -subject the conscious personality disappears and that his actions are -the outcome of the unconscious activities of the spinal cord. Now, -crowds undoubtedly display great suggestibility, but great -suggestibility does not necessarily imply hypnosis; and there is no -ground for supposing that the members of a crowd are thrown into any -such condition, save possibly in very rare instances. - -There are however two hypotheses, sometimes invoked for the explanation -of the peculiarities of collective mental life, which demand serious -consideration and which we may with advantage consider at this point. - -One is the hypothesis of telepathy. A considerable amount of respectable -evidence has been brought forward in recent years to prove that one mind -may directly influence another by some obscure mode of action that does -not involve the known organs of expression and of perception; and much -of this evidence seems to show that one mind may directly induce in -another a state of consciousness similar to its own. If, then, such -direct interaction between two minds can take place in an easily -appreciable degree in certain instances, it would seem not improbable -that a similar direct interaction, producing a lesser, and therefore -less easily appreciable, degree of assimilation of the states of -consciousness of the minds concerned, may be constantly and normally at -work. If this were the case, such telepathic interaction might well play -a very important part in collective mental life, and, where a large -number of persons is congregated, it might tend to produce that -intensification of emotion which is so characteristic of crowds. In -fact, if direct telepathic communication of emotion in however slight a -degree is possible and normal, and especially if the influence is one -that diminishes with distance, it may be expected to produce its most -striking results among the members of a crowd; for the emotion of each -member might be expected to be intensified by the telepathic influence -radiating from every other member. Some slight presumption in favour of -such a mode of explanation is afforded by the fact that the popular use -of the word contagion in the present connexion seems to imply, however -vaguely, some such direct communication of emotion. But telepathic -communication has not hitherto been indisputably established; and the -observations that afford so strong a presumption in its favour indicate -that, if and in so far as it occurs, it does so sporadically and only -between individuals specially attuned to one another or in some abnormal -mental state that renders them specially sensitive to the influence[19]. -And, while the acceptance of the principle of sympathetic induction of -an emotion, as an instinctive perceptual response to the expressions of -that emotion, renders unnecessary any further principle of explanation, -the consideration of the conditions of the spread of emotion through -crowds affords evidence that this mode of interaction of the individuals -is all-important and that telepathic communication, if it occurs, is of -secondary importance. For the spreading and the great intensification of -emotion seem to depend upon its being given expressions that are -perceptible by the senses. So long as its expressions are suppressed, -the emotion of an assembly does not become excessive. It is only by -eliciting and encouraging the expressions of emotions that the -revivalist, the political orator, or the comic man on the music-hall -stage, achieves his successes. That the expressions of an emotion are -far more effective in this way than the emotion itself is recognised by -the practice of the _claqueurs_. When an audience has once been induced -to give expression to a common emotion, its members are, as it were, set -in tune with one another; each man is aware that he is in harmony with -all the rest as regards his feelings and emotions, and, even in the -periods during which all expressions are suppressed by the audience, -this awareness serves to sustain the mood and to prepare for fresh -outbursts. The mere silence of an audience, the absence of coughs, -shufflings, and uneasy movements, suffices to make each member aware -that all his fellows are attentive and are responding with the -appropriate emotion; but it is not until the applause, the indignation, -or the laughter, breaks out in free expression that the emotion reaches -its highest pitch. And a skilful orator or entertainer, recognising -these facts, takes care to afford frequent opportunities for the -collective displays of emotion. - -We must recognise, then, that, even if telepathic communication be -proved to be possible in certain cases, there is not sufficient evidence -of its operation in the spread of emotion through crowds, and that the -facts are sufficiently explained by another principle of general and -indisputable validity, the principle of primitive sympathy. - -The second hypothesis to be considered in this connexion is that of the -'collective consciousness.' The conception of a collective consciousness -has been reached by a large number of authors along several lines of -observation and reasoning and is seriously defended at the present time, -more especially by several French and German writers. They maintain -that, in some sense and manner, the consciousnesses of individuals are -not wholly shut off from one another, but may co-operate in the genesis -of, or share in the being of, a more comprehensive consciousness that -exists beside and in addition to them. The conception varies according -to the route by which it is reached and the use that is made of it; but -in all its varieties the conception remains extremely obscure; no one -has succeeded in making clear how the relation of the individual -consciousness to the collective consciousness is to be conceived. In the -writings of many metaphysicians, of whom Hegel is the most prominent, -'the Absolute' seems to imply such a collective consciousness, an -all-inclusive world-consciousness of which the individual consciousness -of each man is somehow but a constituent element or fragmentary -manifestation. But it would be unprofitable to attempt any discussion of -the conception. We are concerned only with the empirical conception of a -collective consciousness based on observation and induction. - -Such a conception finds its strongest support in the analogy afforded by -a widely current view of the nature and conditions of the psychical -individuality of men and animals; the view, namely, that the individual -consciousness of any man or animal is the collective consciousness of -the cells of which his body, or his nervous system, is composed. We -know that the nervous system is made up of cells each of which is a -vital unit, capable of living, of achieving its essential vital -processes, independently of other cells; and we see free living cells -that in many respects are comparable with these and to which we seem -compelled, according to the principle of continuity, to attribute some -germ of psychical life however rudimentary. What is known of the -phylogenetic and ontogenetic development of the multicellular animal -seems to justify us in regarding it as essentially an aggregate of such -independent vital units, which, being formed by repeated fission from a -single cell, adhere together and undergo differentiation and -specialisation of functions. If then the parent cell, the germ cell, has -a rudimentary psychical life, it is difficult to deny it altogether to -the cells formed from it by fission; and it is argued that all these -cells continue to enjoy a psychical life and that the consciousness of -the individual man or animal is the collective consciousness of some or -all of these cells. Now we know that the consciousness of any one of the -higher animals has for its physical correlate at any moment processes -going on simultaneously in many different parts and elements of the -brain. It is argued, then, that we must suppose each cell of the brain -to enjoy, whenever it is active, its own psychical life, and at the same -time to contribute something towards the unitary 'collective -consciousness' of the whole organism, which thus exists beside, but not -independently of, these rudimentary consciousnesses of the cells. If the -view be accepted, it affords a close analogy with the supposed -'collective consciousness' of a group of men or a society. - -This conception of the collective nature of the consciousness of complex -organisms finds strong support in two classes of facts. First, it finds -support in the fact that, if individuals of many of the animal species -of an intermediate grade of complexity, such as some of the worms and -some of the radiate animals, be cut into two or more parts, each part -may continue to live and may become a complete organism by -reconstitution of the lost parts. Since, then, we can hardly deny some -integrated psychical life to such organisms, some rudimentary -consciousness, we seem compelled to believe that this consciousness may -be divided into two or more consciousnesses, each of them being -associated with the vital activities of one of the parts into which the -organism is divided by the knife. Division of the organism into two -parts is also the normal mode of reproduction in the animal world. Even -the coming into existence of every human being seems to be bound up with -the separation of a cell from the parent organism; and his existence as -a separate psychical individual seems to result from the same process of -physical division. And if one cell, when thus separated from the parent -organism, can thus prove its possession of a psychical life by -developing into a fully conscious organism, it is difficult to deny that -all other cells have also their own psychical lives, even though they -may be incapable of making it manifest to us by growing up into complex -organisms when separated. - -The second class of facts that seem to justify this conception of the -consciousness of complex organisms are facts which have been studied and -discussed widely in recent years under the head of mental dissociation -or disintegration of personalities. Such disintegration seems to occur -spontaneously as the essential feature of severe hysteria, and to be -producible artificially and temporarily in some subjects, when they are -thrown into deep hypnosis. In certain of these cases the behaviour of -the human being seems to imply that it is the expression of two separate -psychical individuals, formed by the splitting of the stream of -consciousness and of mental activity of the individual into two streams. -The two streams may be of co-ordinate complexity; but more frequently -one of them seems to be a mere trickle diverted from the main stream of -personal consciousness. Since it is, from the nature of the case, always -impossible to obtain any direct and certain proof that any behaviour -other than one's own is the expression of conscious mental processes, it -is not possible to prove that such division or disintegration of the -personal consciousness actually takes place. But the facts appear to -many of the psychologists who have studied them most carefully[20] to -demand this interpretation; and this psychical disintegration seems to -be accompanied by a functional dissociation of the nervous system into -two or more systems each of which functions independently of the -others,--that is to say, a division of the nervous system comparable with -the division of the nervous system of the worm by the stroke of the -knife which seems to split the psychical individual into two. - -The facts of both these orders would appear, then, to indicate that the -physical organisation of the cells of a complex organism is accompanied -by an organisation of their psychical lives to form a 'collective -consciousness,' which in the human being becomes a personal -self-consciousness; and they would seem to show that the unity of -personal consciousness has for its main condition the functional -continuity of the protoplasm of the cells of the nervous system. - -Even before the facts of disintegration of personalities were known, -several authors, notably von Hartmann[21] and G. T. Fechner[22], did not -hesitate to make this last assumption; and to assert that, if the brain -of a man could be divided by a knife into two parts each of which -continued to function, his consciousness would thus be divided into two -consciousnesses; and conversely, that, if a functional bridge of nervous -matter could be established between the brains of two men, their -consciousnesses would fuse to a single consciousness. The discovery of -these facts has greatly strengthened the case for this view; and it has -been accepted by so sound a psychologist and sober a philosopher as -Fouillee[23]. - -It may be claimed that the consideration of the nature and behaviour of -animal societies points to a similar conclusion, and supplements in an -important manner the argument founded on the divisibility of individual -organisms. Such a line of reasoning has been most thoroughly pursued by -Espinas in his very interesting book on animal societies[24]. He begins -by considering the lower polycellular forms of animal life. Among them, -especially among the hydrozoa or polypes, we find compound or colonial -animals; such an animal is a single living mass of which all the parts -are in substantial and vital connexion with one another, but is yet made -up of a number of parts each of which is morphologically a complete or -almost complete creature; and these parts, though specialised for the -performance of certain functions subserving the economy of the whole -animal or coherent group of animals, are yet capable, if separated from -the mass (as they sometimes are by a natural process), of continuing to -live, of growing, and of multiplying. There are found among such -creatures very various degrees of specialisation of parts and of -interdependence of parts; and in those cases in which the specialisation -and interdependence of parts is great, the whole compound animal -exhibits in its reactions so high a degree of integration that we seem -justified in supposing that a common or 'collective consciousness' is -the psychical correlate of these integrated actions of the separable -parts. Why then, it is asked, should this 'collective consciousness' -cease to be, when the substantial continuity of the parts is -interrupted? - -Espinas then goes on to describe animal societies of many types, and -shows how, as we follow up the evolutionary scale, association and -intimate interdependence and co-operation of their members tend to -replace more and more completely the individualistic antagonism and -unmitigated competition of the lowest free-living organisms. He -considers first the type of animal society which is essentially a -family, a society of individuals all of which are derived from the same -parent by fission or by budding. He argues that each such society of -blood-relatives is a harmonious whole only because it enjoys a -'collective consciousness' over and above the consciousnesses of its -constituent members; that, for example, a swarm of bees, which exhibits -so great a uniformity of feeling and action and of which all the members -come from the body of one parent, is in reality the material basis of a -'collective consciousness,' which presides over and is expressed by -their collective actions; that the ants of one household have such a -collective consciousness, that they "are, in truth, a single thought in -action, like the various cellules and fibres of the brain of a mammal." -For, as he maintains, "the consciousness of animals is not an absolute, -indivisible thing. It is on the contrary a reality capable of being -divided and diffused ... thought in general and the impulses illuminated -by it, are, like the forces of nature, susceptible of diffusion, of -transmission, of being shared, and can like these lie dormant where they -are thinly diffused, or become vivid and intensified by concentration. -The beings that have these attributes are no doubt monads; but these -monads are open to and communicate with one another." - -Espinas extends the view to other animal societies of which the members -are not all derived from one parent, including human societies; and -concludes that, except in the case of the Infusoria at the bottom of the -scale and of the highly organised societies at the top of it, every -individual consciousness is a part of a superior more comprehensive -consciousness of an individual of a higher order. He illustrates at -length the fact with the consideration and explanation of which this -chapter is concerned, the fact namely that, in all social groups, -emotions and impulses are communicated and intensified from one -individual to another; and he asks--"If the essential elements of -consciousness add themselves together and accumulate from one -consciousness to another, how should the consciousness itself of the -whole not be participated in by each?" He argues that to be real is not -to be known to some other consciousness, but is to exist for oneself, to -be conscious of oneself; that, in this sense, the 'collective -consciousness' of a society is the most real of all things; that every -society is therefore a living individual; and that, if we deny -self-conscious individuality to a society, we must deny it equally to -the mass of cells that make up an animal body; that, in short, we can -find unity and individuality nowhere. - -This doctrine of the 'collective consciousness' of societies may seem -bizarre to those to whom it is altogether novel; but it is one that -cannot be lightly put aside; it demands serious consideration from any -one who seeks the general principles of Collective Psychology. We have -no certain knowledge from which its impossibility can be deduced; and -the new light thrown upon individuality by modern studies in -psycho-pathology shows us that the indivisibility and strictly bounded -unity of the individual human soul is a postulate that we must not -continue to accept without critical examination. Nor is the conception -one that figures only in the writings of philosophers and therefore to -be regarded with contemptuous indulgence by men of affairs as but one of -the strange harmless foibles of such persons. It has a certain vogue in -more popular writings; thus Renan wrote--"It has been remarked that in -face of a peril a nation or a city shows, like a living creature, a -divination of the common danger, a secret sentiment of its own being and -the need of its conservation. Such is the obscure impulsion which -provokes from time to time the displacement of a whole people or the -emigration of masses, the crusades, the religious, political, or social -revolutions." Phrases such as the soul of a people, the genius of a -people, have long been current, and in almost every newspaper one may -find important events and tendencies ascribed to the instinct of a -people. It is probable that these phrases are written in many instances -without any explicit intention to imply a 'collective national -consciousness,' but merely as well-sounding words that cloak our -ignorance and give a vague appearance of understanding. Nevertheless, -from its application to the life of nations, the doctrine of a -collective consciousness mainly derives its importance. It is seriously -used by a number of vigorous contemporary writers, of whom Schaeffle[25] -is perhaps the most notable, to carry to its extreme the doctrine of -Comte and Spencer that Society is an organism. Spencer specifically -refused to complete his analogy between society and an animal organism -by the acceptance of the hypothesis of a collective consciousness; and -he insisted strongly on the importance, for legislation and social -effort of every kind, of holding fast to the consciousness of -individual men as the final court of appeal, by reference to which the -value of every institution and every form of social activity must be -judged, the importance of regarding the welfare and happiness of -individual men as the supreme end, in relation to which the welfare of -the State is but a means. But those who, like Schaeffle, complete the -analogy by acceptance of this hypothesis, regard a nation as an organism -in the fullest sense of the word, as an organism that has its own -pleasure and pain and its own conscious ends and purposes and strivings; -as in fact a great individual which is conscious and may be more or less -perfectly self-conscious, conscious of itself, its past, its future, its -purposes, its joys and its sorrows. And they do not scruple to draw the -logical conclusion that the welfare of the individual should be -completely subjected to that of the State; just as the welfare of an -organ or cell of the human body is rightly held to be of infinitesimal -value in comparison with that of the whole individual and to derive its -importance only from its share in the constitution of the whole. This -conception of the 'collective consciousness' has thus been used as one -of the supports of 'Prussianism' and has played its part in bringing -about the Great War with all its immense mass of individual anguish. - -We must, then, examine the arguments upon which the doctrine is based, -and ask--Do they suffice to render it probable, or to compel our -acceptance of it, and to justify the complete subjection of the -individual to the State? - -We have seen that a strong case is made out for the view that the -consciousness of a complex organism is the 'collective consciousness' of -all its cells, or of the cells of its nervous system; and it must be -admitted that, if this view could be definitely established, it would go -far to justify the doctrine of the collective consciousness of -societies. Yet the view is by no means established; there are great -difficulties in the way of its acceptance. There is the difficulty which -meets a doctrine of 'collective consciousness' in all its forms from -that of Haeckel to that of Hegel,--the difficulty that the consciousness -of the units is used twice over, once as the individual consciousness, -once as an element entering into the collective consciousness; and no -one has been able to suggest how this difficulty can be surmounted. It -has been argued also, most forcibly perhaps by Lotze[26], that what we -know of the structure and functions of the brain compels us to adopt a -very different interpretation of the facts. It is said that, since we -cannot find any evidence of a unitary brain-process that might be -regarded as the immediate physical correlate of the unitary stream of -consciousness of the individual, but find rather that the physical -correlate of the individual's consciousness at any moment is a number of -discrete processes taking place simultaneously in anatomical elements -widely scattered in different parts of the brain, we are compelled to -assume that each of these acts upon some unitary substance, some -immaterial entity (which may be called the soul) producing a partial -affection of its state. According to this view, then, the consciousness -of any moment is the unitary resultant of all these influences -simultaneously exerted on the soul, the unitary reaction of the soul -upon these many influences[27]. - -But, even if we could accept the view that the consciousness of the -complex organism is the 'collective consciousness' of its cells, the -analogy between an organism and a society, which constitutes the -argument for the 'collective consciousness' of a society, would remain -defective in one very important respect. If we accept that view, we must -believe that the essential condition of the fusion of the -consciousnesses of the cells is their spatial continuity, no matter how -utterly unintelligible this condition may seem; for the apparent -disruption of consciousness on the solution of material continuity -between the cells is the principal ground on which this view is founded. -Now, no such continuity of substance exists between the members of any -human group or society, and its absence constitutes a fatal flaw in the -analogical argument. - -If we pass by these serious difficulties, others arise as soon as we -inquire what kinds of human groups have such 'collective consciousness.' -Does the simple fortuitously gathered crowd possess it? Or is it -confined to highly organised groups such as the leading modern nations? -If every psychological crowd possesses it and owes its peculiarities of -behaviour to it, does it come into being at the moment the individuals -have their attention attracted to a common object and begin to be -stirred by a common emotion? And does it cease to be as soon as the -crowd is resolved into its elements? Or, if it is confined to nations or -other highly organised groups, at what stage of their development does -it come into being, and what are the limits of the groups of which it is -the 'collective consciousness'? Do the Poles share in the 'collective -consciousness' of the German nation, or the Bavarians in that of -Prussia? Or do the Irish or the Welsh contribute their share to that of -the English nation? - -Coming now to close quarters with the doctrine, we may ask those who, -like Schaeffle and Espinas, regard the 'collective consciousness' as a -bond which unites the members of a society and makes of them one living -individual,--Is this 'collective consciousness' merely epiphenomenal in -character? Or are we to regard it as reacting upon the consciousnesses -or minds of the individuals of the group, and, through such reaction, -playing a part in determining the behaviour of the group, or rather of -the individuals of which the group is composed? For the actions of the -group are merely the sum of the actions of its individuals. If the -former alternative be adopted, then we may confidently say that the -existence of a 'collective consciousness' must from the nature of the -case remain a mere speculation, incapable of verification; and that, if -it does exist, since it cannot make any difference, cannot in any way -affect human life and conduct, it is for us unreal, no matter how real -it may be for itself, as Espinas maintains; and we certainly are not -called upon to have any regard for it or its happiness, nor can we -invoke its aid in attempting to explain the course of history and the -phenomena of social life. If, on the other hand, the 'collective -consciousness' of groups and societies and peoples reacts upon -individual minds and so plays a part in shaping the conduct of men and -societies, then the conception is a hypothesis which can only be -justified by showing that it affords explanations of social phenomena -which in its absence remain inexplicable. If it were found that social -aggregates of any kind really do exhibit, as has often been maintained, -great mass-movements, emigrations, religious or political uprisings, and -so forth, for which no adequate explanations can be found in the mental -processes of individuals and the mental interactions of individuals by -the ordinary means of expression and perception, a resort to some such -hypothesis would be permissible; but it is an offence against the -principles of scientific method to invoke its aid, before we have -exhausted the possibilities of explanation offered by well-known -existents and forces. That certainly has not yet been done, and the -upholders of the doctrine have hardly made any attempt to justify it in -this the only possible manner in which it could be justified. The only -evidence of this sort adduced by Espinas is the rapid spread of a common -emotion and impulse throughout the members of animal and human groups; -and of such phenomenon we have already found a sufficient explanation in -those special adaptations of the instincts of all gregarious creatures -which are unmistakably implied by the way in which the expression of an -emotion directly evokes a display of the same emotion in any onlooking -member of the species. - -We may, then, set aside the conception of a 'collective consciousness' -as a hypothesis to be held in reserve until the study of group life -reveal phenomena that cannot be explained without its aid. For it may be -confidently asserted that up to the present time no such evidence of a -'collective consciousness' has been brought forward, and that there is -no possibility of any such evidence being obtained before the principles -of social psychology have been applied far more thoroughly than has yet -been done to the explanation of the course of history. In adopting a so -far unsympathetic attitude towards this doctrine, we ought to admit -that, if there be any truth in it, the 'collective consciousness' of -even the most highly organised society may be still in a rudimentary -stage, and that it may continue to gain in effectiveness and -organisation with the further evolution of the society in question. - -After this digression we may return to the consideration of the -emotional characteristics of simple crowds. We have to notice not only -that the emotions of crowds are apt to be excessively strong, but also -that certain types of emotion are more apt than others to spread through -a crowd, namely the coarser simpler emotions and those which do not -imply the existence of developed and refined sentiments. For many of the -individuals of most crowds will be incapable of the more subtle complex -emotions and will be devoid of the more refined sentiments; while such -sentiments as the individuals possess will be in the main more diverse -in proportion to their refinement and special character; hence the -chances of any crowd being homogeneous as regards these emotions and -sentiments is small. Whereas the primary emotions and the coarser -sentiments may be common to all the members of a crowd; any crowd is -likely to be homogeneous in respect to them. - -On the other hand, a crowd is more apt to be swayed by the more generous -of the coarser emotions, impulses, and sentiments than by those of a -meaner universally reprobated kind. For each member of the crowd acts -in full publicity; and his knowledge of, and regard for, public opinion -will to some extent incline him to suppress the manifestation of -feelings which he might indulge in private but would be ashamed of in -public. Hence a crowd is more readily carried away by admiration for a -noble deed, or by moral indignation against an act of cruelty, than by -self-pity or jealousy or envy or a meanly vengeful emotion. - -At the same time, a crowd is apt to express feelings which imply less -consideration and regard for others than the individual, representing -the average morality and refinement of its members, would display when -not under the influence of the crowd. Thus men, when members of a crowd, -will witness with enjoyment scenes of brutality and suffering which, -under other circumstances, they would turn away from, or would seek to -terminate. To see a man thrown heavily to the ground is not pleasing to -most individuals; yet the spectacle provokes roars of delight from the -crowd at a football match. How many of the spectators, who, as members -of a crowd, hugely enjoy looking on at a prize-fight or a bull-fight, -would shrink from witnessing it as isolated individuals! How many boys -will join with a crowd of others in cruelly teasing another boy, an -animal, an old woman, or a drunken man, who individually are incapable -of such 'thoughtless' conduct! It may be doubted whether even the -depraved population of Imperial Rome could have individually witnessed -without aversion the destruction of Christians in the Coliseum. - -This character of crowds seems to be due to two peculiarities of the -collective mental state. In the first place, the individual, in becoming -one of a crowd, loses in some degree his self-consciousness, his -awareness of himself as a distinct personality, and with it goes also -something of his consciousness of his specifically personal relations; -he becomes to a certain extent depersonalised. In the second place, and -intimately connected with this last change, is a diminution of the sense -of personal responsibility: the individual feels himself enveloped and -overshadowed and carried away by forces which he is powerless to -control; he therefore does not feel called upon to maintain the attitude -of self-criticism and self-restraint which under ordinary circumstances -are habitual to him, his more refined ideals of behaviour fail to assert -themselves against the overwhelming forces that envelope him. - - -THE INTELLECTUAL PROCESSES OF SIMPLE CROWDS - -No fact has been more strongly insisted upon by writers on the -psychology of crowds than the low degree of intelligence implied by -their collective actions. Not only mobs or simple crowds, but such -bodies as juries, committees, corporations of all sorts, which are -partially organised groups, are notoriously liable to pass judgments, to -form decisions, to enact rules or laws, so obviously erroneous, unwise, -or defective that anyone, even the least intelligent member of the group -concerned, might have been expected to produce a better result. - -The principal ground of the low order of intelligence displayed by -simple crowds is that the ideas and reasonings which can be collectively -understood and accepted must be such as can be appreciated by the lower -order of minds among the crowd. These least intelligent minds bring down -the intelligence of the whole to their own level. This is true in some -degree even of crowds composed of highly educated persons; for, as in -the case of the emotions and sentiments, the higher faculties are always -more or less specialised and differentiated in various ways through -differences of nurture and training; whereas the simpler intellectual -faculties and tendencies are common to all men. - -A second condition, which co-operates with the foregoing to keep the -intellectual processes of crowds at a low level, is the increased -suggestibility of its members. Here is one of the most striking facts of -collective mental life. A crowd impresses each of its members with a -sense of its power, its unknown capacities, its unlimited and mysterious -possibilities; and these, as I have shown in Chapter III of my _Social -Psychology_, are the attributes that excite in us the instinct of -subjection and so throw us into the receptive suggestible attitude -towards the object that displays them. Mere numbers are capable of -exerting this effect upon most of us; but the effect of numbers is -greatly increased if all display a common emotion and speak with one -voice; the crowd has then, if we are in its presence, a well nigh -irresistible prestige. Hence even the highly intelligent and -self-reliant member of a crowd is apt to find his critical reserve -broken down; and, when an orator makes some proposition which the mass -of the crowd applauds but which each more intelligent member would as an -individual reject with scorn, it is apt to be uncritically accepted by -all alike; because it comes to each, not as the proposition of the -orator alone, but as a proposition which voices the mind of the crowd, -which comes from the mass of men he sees around him and so comes with -the power of a mass-suggestion. - -A further ground of the suggestibility of the crowd is that prevalence -of emotional excitement which was discussed in the foregoing pages. It -is well recognised that almost any emotional excitement increases the -suggestibility of the individual, though the explanation of the fact -remains obscure. I have suggested that the explanation is to be found in -the principle of the vicarious usage of nervous energy, the principle -that nervous energy, liberated in any one part of the nervous system, -may overflow the channels of the system in which it is liberated and -re-enforce processes initiated in other systems. If this be true, we can -see how any condition of excitement will favour suggestibility; for it -will re-enforce whatever idea or impulse may have been awakened and made -dominant by 'suggestion.' The principle requires perhaps the following -limitation. Emotion which is finding outlet in well-directed action is -probably unfavourable to all such 'suggestions' as are not congruent -with its tendencies. It is vague emotion, or such as finds no -appropriate expression in action, that favours suggestibility. The most -striking illustrations of the greatly increased suggestibility of crowds -are afforded by well-authenticated instances of collective -hallucination, instances which, so long as we fail to take into account -the abnormal suggestibility of the members of crowds, seem utterly -mysterious, incredible, and super-normal. - -Again, the capacity of crowds to arrive at correct conclusions by any -process of reasoning is apt to be diminished in another way by the -exaltation of emotion to which, as we have seen, they are peculiarly -liable. It is a familiar fact that correct observation and reasoning are -hampered by emotion; for all ideas congruent with the prevailing emotion -come far more readily to consciousness and persist more stably than -ideas incongruent with it, and conclusions congruent with the prevailing -emotion and desire are accepted readily and uncritically; whereas those -opposed to them can hardly find acceptance in the minds of most men, no -matter how simple and convincing be the reasoning that leads to them. - -The diminution or abolition of the sense of personal responsibility, -which results from membership in a crowd and which, as we have seen, -favours the display of its emotions, tends also to lower the level of -its intellectual processes. Wherever men have to come to a collective -decision or to undertake collective action of any sort, this effect -plays an important part. The weight of responsibility that would be -felt by any one man, deciding or acting alone, is apt to be divided -among all the members of the group; so that for each man it is -diminished in proportion to the number of persons taking part in the -affair. Hence the attention and care devoted by each man to the task of -deliberation, observation, or execution, are less keen and continuously -sustained, and a judgment or decision is more lightly and easily arrived -at, grounds which the individual, deliberating alone, would reject or -weigh again and again serving to determine an immediate judgment. The -principle is well recognised in practical life. We do not set ten men to -keep the look-out on ship-board, but only one; though the safety of the -ship and of all that it carries depends upon his unremitting alertness. -We see the principle recognised in the institution of the jury. But for -the weakening of the individual sense of responsibility, juries would -seldom be found capable of finding a prisoner guilty of murder and so -condemning him to death; while, by the restriction of the jury to a -comparatively small number, the worst features of collective mental life -are avoided. - -We see the working of the principle not only in simple crowds, but also -in groups of very considerable degrees of organisation. We see it in the -way in which many a man, who would shrink from the responsibility of -directing a great and complicated commercial undertaking, will -cheerfully join a board of directors each of whom is perhaps no better -qualified than himself to conduct the business of the concern. We may -recognise its effects also in the cheerful levity, not to say hilarity, -that frequently pervades our House of Commons; for most of its -well-meaning members would be utterly crushed under the weight of their -legislative responsibility, were it not divided in small fractions among -them. - -But the low sense of responsibility of the crowd is not due to the -division of responsibility alone. In the case of the simple crowd, it is -due also in large part to the fact that such a crowd has but a very low -grade of self-consciousness and no self-regarding sentiment; that is to -say, the members of the crowd have but a dim consciousness of the crowd -as a whole, but very little knowledge of its tendencies and capacities, -and no sentiment of love, respect, or regard of any kind for it and its -reputation in the eyes of men. Hence, since the responsibility falls on -the whole crowd, and any loss or gain of reputation affects the crowd -and hardly at all the individuals who are merged in it, they are not -stimulated to exert care and self-restraint and critical deliberation in -forming their judgments, in arriving at decisions, or in executing any -task collectively undertaken. The results of these two conditions of -collective mental life are well summed up in the popular dictum that a -corporation has no conscience. - -Since all these factors co-operate to keep the intellectual activity of -the simple crowd on a low level, it follows that very simple -intellectual processes must be relied on by the orator who would sway a -crowd; he must rely on abuse and ridicule of opponents, or unmeasured -praise of friends; on flattery; on the _argumentum ad hominem_; on -induction by simple enumeration of a few striking instances; on obvious -and superficial analogies; on the evocation of vivid representative -imagery rather than of abstract ideas; and, above all, on confident -assertion and reiteration, and on a display of the coarser emotions. - -Since the individuals comprised in a crowd are apt to be influenced in -all these ways by the mass of their fellows, it follows that the mental -processes, the thoughts and feelings and actions, of each one will be as -a rule very different from what they would be if he faced a similar -situation as an isolated individual; the mental processes of each one -are profoundly modified by his mental interactions with all the other -members of the crowd. Therefore the collective actions of a crowd are -not simply the resultants of all the tendencies to thought and action of -the individuals, as such, but may be very different from any such -resultant. And they are not merely the expression of the individual -tendencies of the average member, nor yet of the mass of least -intelligent and refined members; they may be, and often are, such as no -one of the members acting alone would ever display or attempt. - -It must be added that all the peculiarities of collective mental process -mentioned above express themselves very readily in the actions of simple -crowds, because such a crowd is incapable of resolution and volition in -the true sense of the words. I have shown[28] that individual resolution -and volition are only rendered possible by the possession of a -well-developed self-consciousness and self-regarding sentiment. But a -simple crowd has at the most only a rudimentary self-consciousness and -has no self-regarding sentiment. Hence its actions are the direct issue -of the various impulses that are collectively evoked; and, though it may -be collectively conscious of the end towards which it is impelled, and -though all the individuals may desire to effect or realise this end, and -to that extent may be said to be capable of purpose; yet such an -impulse or desire cannot be steadied, strengthened, renewed, or -supported and maintained, in opposition to any other impulse that may -come into play, by an impulse springing from the self-regarding -sentiment in the way which constitutes resolution and volition. Just so -far as the self-regarding sentiment of individuals comes into play and -they exert their individual volitions, they cease to act as members of a -crowd. The actions of the simple crowd are thus not the outcome of a -general will, nor are they the resultant of the wills of all its -members; they are simply not volitional in the true sense, but rather -impulsive. They are comparable with the actions of an animal rather than -with those of a man. It is the lack of the conditions necessary to -collective resolution and volition that renders a crowd so fickle and -inconsistent; so capable of passing from one extreme of action to -another, of hurrying to death the man whom it glorified at an earlier -moment, or of turning from savage butchery to tender and tearful -solicitude. Such incapacity of the crowd for resolution and volition, -together with the increased suggestibility of its members, accounts for -the fact that a crowd may be easily induced to follow as a leader any -one who, by means of the elementary reasoning processes suited to its -intellectual capacity, can succeed in suggesting to it the desirability -of any course of action. - -We may sum up the psychological characters of the unorganised or simple -crowd by saying that it is excessively emotional, impulsive, violent, -fickle, inconsistent, irresolute and extreme in action, displaying only -the coarser emotions and the less refined sentiments; extremely -suggestible, careless in deliberation, hasty in judgment, incapable of -any but the simpler and imperfect forms of reasoning; easily swayed and -led, lacking in self-consciousness, devoid of self-respect and of sense -of responsibility, and apt to be carried away by the consciousness of -its own force, so that it tends to produce all the manifestations we -have learnt to expect of any irresponsible and absolute power. Hence its -behaviour is like that of an unruly child or an untutored passionate -savage in a strange situation, rather than like that of its average -member; and in the worst cases it is like that of a wild beast, rather -than like that of human beings. - -All these characteristics of the crowd were exemplified on a great scale -in Paris at the time of the great revolution, when masses of men that -were little more than unorganised crowds escaped from all control and -exerted supreme power; and writers on the topic have drawn many -striking illustrations from the history of the days of the Terror[29]. -The understanding of these more elementary facts and principles of group -psychology will prevent us falling into such an error as was committed -by our greatest political philosopher, Edmund Burke, when he condemned -the French people in the most violent terms on account of the terrible -events of the Revolution; for he attributed to the inhabitants of France -in general, as individuals, the capacities for violence and brutality -and the gross defects of intelligence and self-restraint that were -displayed by the Parisian crowds of the time; whereas the study of -collective psychology has led us to see that the actions of a crowd -afford no measure of the moral and intellectual status of the -individuals of which it is composed. So, when we hear of minor outrages -committed by a crowd of undergraduates or suffragettes, a knowledge of -group psychology will save us from the error of attributing to the -individuals concerned the low grade of intelligence and decency that -might seem to be implied by the deeds performed by them collectively. -The same understanding will also resolve for us some seeming paradoxes; -for example, the paradox that, while in the year 1906 the newspapers -contained many reports of almost incredible brutalities committed by the -peasants in many different parts of Russia, an able correspondent, who -was studying the peasants at that very time, ascribed to them, as the -most striking quality of their characters, an exceptional humaneness and -kindliness[30]. - -It will be maintained on a later page that we may properly speak not -only of a collective will, but also of the collective mind of an -organised group, for example, of the mind and will of a nation. We must, -then, ask at this stage--Can we properly speak of the collective mind of -an unorganised crowd? The question is merely one as to the proper use of -words and therefore not of the first importance. If we had found reason -to accept the hypothesis of a 'collective consciousness' of a group, and -to believe that the peculiarities of behaviour of a crowd are due to a -'collective consciousness,' then we should certainly have to admit the -propriety of regarding the crowd as having a collective mind. But we -have provisionally rejected that hypothesis, and have maintained that -the only consciousness of a crowd or other group is the consciousnesses -of its constituent individuals. In the absence of any 'collective -consciousness' we may still speak of collective minds; for we have -defined a mind as an organised system of interacting mental or psychical -forces. This definition, while allowing us to speak of the collective -mind of such a group as a well-developed nation, hardly allows us to -attribute such a mind to a simple crowd: for the interplay of its mental -forces is not determined by the existence of an organised system of -relations between the elements in which the forces are generated; and -such determination is an essential feature of whatever can be called a -mind. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -THE HIGHLY ORGANISED GROUP - - -The peculiarities of simple crowds tend to appear in all group life; but -they are modified in proportion as the group is removed in character -from a simple crowd, a fortuitous congregation of men of more or less -similar tendencies and sentiments. Many crowds are not fortuitous -gatherings, but are brought together by the common interest of their -members in some object or topic. These may differ from the simple -fortuitous crowd only in being more homogeneous as regards the -sentiments and interests of their members; their greater homogeneity -does not in itself raise them above the mental level of the fortuitous -crowd; it merely intensifies the peculiarities of group life, especially -as regards the intensity of the collective emotion. - -There is, however, one condition that may raise the behaviour of a -temporary and unorganised crowd to a higher plane, namely the presence -of a clearly defined common purpose in the minds of all its members. -Such a crowd, for example a crowd of white men in one of the Southern -States of North America setting out to lynch a negro who is supposed to -have committed some flagrant crime, will display most of the -characteristics of the common crowd, the violence and brutality of -emotion and impulse, the lack of restraint, the diminished sense of -responsibility, the increased suggestibility and incapacity for arriving -at correct conclusions by deliberation and the weighing of evidence. But -it will not exhibit the fickleness of a common crowd, the easy yielding -to distracting impressions and to suggestions that are opposed to the -common purpose. Such a crowd may seize and execute its victim with -inflexible determination, perhaps with a brutality and a ruthless -disregard of all deterrent considerations of which no one of its members -would be individually capable; and may then at once break up, each man -returning quietly and seriously to his home, in a way which has often -been described by witnesses astonished at the contrast between the -behaviour of the crowd and that of the individuals into which it -suddenly resolves itself. - -The behaviour of a crowd of this kind raises the problem of the general -or collective will. It was said in the foregoing chapter that the -actions of a common crowd cannot properly be regarded as volitional, -because they are the immediate outcome of the primary impulses. Yet the -actions of a crowd of the kind we are now considering are the issue of -true resolutions formed by each member of the crowd, and are, therefore, -truly volitional. Nevertheless, they are the expression not of a general -or collective will, but merely of the wills of all the individuals; and, -even if there arise differences between the members and a conflict of -wills as to the mode of achieving the common end, and if the issue be -determined simply by the stronger party overbearing the weaker and -securing their co-operation, that still does not constitute the -expression of a general will. For a collective or general will only -exists where some idea of the whole group and some sentiment for it as -such exists in the minds of the persons composing it. But we may with -advantage examine the nature of collective volition on a later page, in -relation to the life of a highly organised group, such as an army. - -There are five conditions of principal importance in raising collective -mental life to a higher level than the unorganised crowd can reach, no -matter how homogeneous the crowd may be in ideas and sentiments nor how -convergent the desires and volitions of its members. These are the -principal conditions which favour and render possible the formation of a -group mind, in addition to those more fundamental conditions of -collective life which we have noted in the foregoing chapter. - -The first of these conditions, which is the basis of all the rest, is -some degree of continuity of existence of the group. The continuity may -be predominantly material or formal; that is to say, it may consist -either in the persistence of the same individuals as an -intercommunicating group, or in the persistence of the system of -generally recognised positions each of which is occupied by a succession -of individuals. Most permanent groups exhibit both forms of continuity -in a certain degree; for, the material continuity of a group being -given, some degree of formal continuity will commonly be established -within it. The most highly organised groups, such as well-developed -nations, exhibit both forms in the highest degree. - -A second very important condition, essential to any highly developed -form of collective life, is that in the minds of the mass of the members -of the group there shall be formed some adequate idea of the group, of -its nature, composition, functions, and capacities, and of the relations -of the individuals to the group. The diffusion of this idea among the -members of the group, which constitutes the self-consciousness of the -group mind, would be of little effect or importance, if it were not -that, as with the idea of the individual self, a sentiment of some kind -almost inevitably becomes organised about this idea and is the main -condition of its growth in richness of meaning; a sentiment for the -group which becomes the source of emotions and of impulses to action -having for their objects the group and its relations to other groups. - -A third condition very favourable to the development of the collective -mind of a group, though not perhaps absolutely essential, is the -interaction (especially in the form of conflict and rivalry) of the -group with other similar groups animated by different ideals and -purposes, and swayed by different traditions and customs. The importance -of such interaction of groups lies chiefly in the fact that it greatly -promotes the self-knowledge and self-sentiment of each group. - -Fourthly, the existence of a body of traditions and customs and habits -in the minds of the members of the group determining their relations to -one another and to the group as a whole. - -Lastly, organisation of the group, consisting in the differentiation and -specialisation of the functions of its constituents--the individuals and -classes or groups of individuals within the group. This organisation may -rest wholly or in part upon the conditions of the fourth class, -traditions, customs, and habits. But it may be in part imposed on the -group and maintained by the authority of some external power. - -The capacity for collective life of an organised group whose -organisation is imposed upon it and wholly maintained by an external -authority is but little superior to that of a simple crowd. Such a group -will differ from the simple crowd chiefly in exhibiting greater control -of its impulses and a greater continuity of direction of its activities; -but these qualities are due to the external compelling power and are not -truly the expression of its collective mental life. An army of slaves -or, in a less complete degree, an army of mercenaries is the type of -this kind of organised group; and a people ruled by a strong despot -relying on a mercenary or foreign army approximates to it. The first aim -of the power that would maintain such an organisation must always be to -prevent and suppress collective life, by forbidding gatherings and -public discussions, by rendering communications between the parts -difficult, and by enforcing a rigid discipline. For such an organisation -is essentially unstable. - -We may illustrate the influence of these five conditions by considering -how in a group of relatively simple kind, in which they are all -present, they favour collective life and raise it to a higher level of -efficiency. Such a group is a patriot army fighting in a cause that -elicits the enthusiasm of its members; such were the armies of Japan in -the late Russo-Japanese war; they exhibited in a high degree and in -relative simplicity the operation of all the conditions we have -enumerated. - -Such an army exhibits the exaltation of emotion common to all -psychological crowds. This intensification of emotion enables men to -face danger and certain death with enthusiasm, and on other occasions -may, even in the armies of undoubtedly courageous and warlike nations, -result in panic and a rout. But in all other respects the -characteristics of the simple crowd are profoundly modified. The formal -continuity of the existence of the army and of its several units secures -for it, even though its personnel be changed at a rapid rate, a past and -therefore a tradition, a self-consciousness and a self-regarding -sentiment, a pride in its past and a tradition of high conduct and -achievement; for past failures are discreetly forgotten and only its -past successes and glories are kept in memory. The traditional group -consciousness and sentiment are fostered by every wise commander, both -in the army as a whole and in each separate department and regiment. Is -not the superiority in battle of such bodies as the famous Tenth Legion -due as much to such self-conscious tradition and sentiment as to the -presence of veterans in its ranks? And is not the same true of such -regiments as the Black Watch, the Gordons, the Grenadier Guards, and the -other famous regiments of the British army? - -The third of the conditions mentioned above is also very obviously -present in the case of an army in the field--namely, interaction with a -similar group having different purposes, traditions, and sentiments. And -in this case the interaction, being of the nature of direct competition -and conflict, is of the kind most favourable to the development of the -collective mind. It accentuates the self-consciousness of the whole; -that is to say, it defines more clearly in the mind of each individual -the whole of which he is a part, his position in, his organic connexion -with, and his dependence upon, the whole; with each succeeding stage of -the conflict he conceives the whole more clearly, obtains a fuller -knowledge of the capacities and weaknesses of the whole and its parts. -Each soldier learns, too, something of the character of the opposing -army; and, in the light of this knowledge, his conception of his own -army becomes better defined and richer in meaning. In short, through -interaction with the opposing army, the army as a whole becomes more -clearly reflected in the mind of each of its members, its -self-consciousness is clarified and enriched. In a similar way, -intercourse and rivalry between the various regiments greatly promotes -the growth of the self-knowledge and self-sentiment of each of these -lesser groups. A standing army inevitably possesses a wealth of -traditions, habits and customs, over and above its formal organisation, -and these play an important part in promoting the smooth working of the -whole organism; the lack of these is one of the chief difficulties in -the way of the creation of a new army, as was vividly illustrated in the -making of the 'Kitchener army' during the Great War. The customs of the -various officers' messes were but a small part of this mass of custom -which does so much to bind the whole army together. - -An army obviously possesses organisation, generally in a very high -degree. The formal continuity of its existence enables the organisation -impressed upon it by external authority to acquire all the strength that -custom alone can give; while its material continuity enables its -organisation to generate, in the individual soldiers, habits through -which the inferior members are raised, as regards the moral qualities -required for efficiency in the field, towards the level of the best. - -The organisation of the whole army has two aspects and two main -functions; the one is executive, the securing of the co-ordination of -action of the parts in the carrying out of the common plan; the other is -recipient and deliberative, the co-ordination of the data supplied by -the parts through deliberation upon which the choice of means is arrived -at. Deliberation and choice of means are carried out by the -commander-in-chief and his staff, the persons who have shown themselves -best able to execute this part of the army's task. It is important to -note that, in the case of such an army as we are considering, the -private soldier in the ranks remains a free agent performing truly -volitional actions; that he in no sense becomes a mechanical agent or -one acting through enforced or habitual obedience merely. He wills the -common end; and, believing that the choice of means to that end is best -effected by the appropriate part of the whole organisation, he accepts -the means chosen, makes of them his proximate end, and wills them. - -This is the essential character of the effective organisation of any -human group; it secures that while the common end of collective action -is willed by all, the choice of means is left to those best qualified -and in the best position for deliberation and choice; and it secures -that co-ordination of the voluntary actions of the parts which brings -about the common end by the means so chosen. In this way the collective -actions of the well-organised group, instead of being, like those of the -simple crowd, merely impulsive or instinctive actions, implying a degree -of intelligence and of morality far inferior to that of the average -individual of the crowd, become truly volitional actions expressive of a -degree of intelligence and morality much higher than that of the average -member of the group: i.e. the whole is raised above the level of its -average member; and even, by reason of exaltation of emotion and -organised co-operation in deliberation, above that of its highest -members. - -Here we must consider a little more fully the nature of the collective -or general will, a subject that has figured largely in the discussions -of political philosophers on the nature of the State. Rousseau -wrote--"There is often a great difference between the will of all and the -general will; the latter looks only to the common interest; the former -looks to private interest, and is nothing but a series of individual -wills; but take away from these same wills the plus and minus that -cancel one another and there remains, as the sum of the differences, the -general will." "Sovereignty is only the exercise of the general will." -By this he seems to mean that a certain number of men will the general -good, while many will only their private goods; and that while the -latter neutralise one another, as regards their effects on the general -interest, the former co-operate and so form an effective force to -promote the general good. This doctrine was an approximation towards the -truth, though like all Rousseau's social speculations, his handling of -it was vitiated by his false psychology, which set out from the fiction -of man as an independent purely self-contained and self-determining -absolute individual. Later writers do not seem to have improved upon -Rousseau's doctrine of the general will to any great extent. - -The problem of the general will, like all problems of collective -psychology, becomes extremely complex when we consider the life of -nations; and it is, therefore, important to make ourselves clear as to -the nature of collective volition by consideration of the relatively -simple case of a patriot army. It is of course impossible to arrive at a -clear notion of collective volition, until individual volition has been -clearly defined and the nature of the distinction between it, on the one -hand, and mere impulsive action, desire, and simple conflict of desires, -on the other hand, has been made clear. The lack of such clear notions -and adequate definitions has rendered much of the discussion of this -topic by political philosophers sterile and obscure. In the light of the -conclusions reached in my chapter on individual volition[31], the -question of the nature of collective volition presents little -difficulty. It was found that volition may be defined and adequately -marked off from the simpler modes of conation by saying that it is the -reinforcement of any impulse or conation by one excited within the -system of the self-regarding sentiment. And in an earlier chapter[32] it -was shewn how the self-regarding sentiment may become extended to other -objects than the individual self, to all objects with which the self -identifies itself, which are regarded as belonging to the self or as -part of the wider self. This extension depends largely on the fact that -others identify us with such an object, so that we feel ourselves to be -an object of all the regards and attitudes and actions of others -directed towards that object, and are emotionally affected by them in -the same ways that we are affected by similar regards, attitudes, and -actions directed towards us individually. It was shewn also that such a -sentiment may become wider and emotionally richer than the purely -self-regarding sentiment, through fusing with a sentiment of love for -the object that has grown up independently. These facts were illustrated -by consideration of the parental sentiment for the child, which, it was -said, has commonly this twofold character and source, being formed by -the compounding of the self-regarding sentiment with the sentiment of -love of which the dominant disposition is that of the tender or -protective instinct. - -In a similar way a similarly complex sentiment may become organised -about the idea of one's family, or of any still larger group having -continuity of existence of which one becomes a member. In the case of -the patriot's sentiment for his country or nation, the self-regarding -sentiment and the sentiment of love may be from the first combined in -the patriotic sentiment; since he knows himself to be a part of the -whole from the time that an idea of the whole first takes shape in his -mind. - -In this respect the case of the soldier in a patriot army is relatively -simple. As a boy he may have acquired a sentiment of loving admiration -for the army; and, when he becomes a member of it, the dispositions that -enter into the constitution of his self-regarding sentiment, become -incorporated with this previously existing sentiment, so that the -reputation of the army becomes as important to him as his own; praise -and approval of it become for him objects of desire and sources of -elation; disapproval and blame of it, or the prospect of them, affect -him as painfully as if directed to himself individually, fill him with -shame and mortification. - -A similar complex sentiment, the sentiment of patriotism, becomes -organised about the idea of his country as a whole; and, when war breaks -out and the army is pitted against that of another nation, while the -eyes of the whole world are turned upon it, it becomes the -representative of the nation and the special object of the patriotic -sentiment, which thus adds its strength to that of the more special -sentiment of the soldier for the army[33]. When, then, the patriot army -takes the field, it is capable of collective volition in virtue of the -existence of this sentiment in the minds of all its members. The -soldiers of a purely mercenary army are moved by the desire of -individual glory, of increased pay, of loot, by the habit of obedience -and collective movement acquired by prolonged drilling, by the -pugnacious impulse, by the desire of self-preservation; and they may be -led on to greater exertions by the influence of an admired captain. But -such an army is incapable of collective volition, because no sentiment -for the army as a whole is common to all its members. The soldiers of -the patriot army on the other hand may act from all the individual -motives enumerated above; but all alike are capable also of being -stirred by a common motive, a desire excited within the collective -self-regarding sentiment, the common sentiment for the army; and this, -adding itself to whatever individual motives are operative, converts -their desires into collective resolutions and renders their actions the -expressions of a collective volition. - -Each soldier of the mercenary army may desire that his side shall win -the battle and may resolve that he will do his best to bring victory to -his side, and he may perform many truly volitional actions; and, in so -far as the actions of the army express these individual volitions -towards a common result, they are the expressions of the 'will of all,' -but not of the collective will; because these volitions, though they are -directed to the one common end, spring from diverse motives and are -individual volitions. - -The essence of collective volition is, then, not merely the direction of -the wills of all to the same end, but the motivation of the wills of all -members of a group by impulses awakened within the common sentiment for -the whole of which they are the parts. It is the extension of the -self-regarding sentiment of each member of the group to the group as a -whole that binds the group together and renders it a collective -individual capable of collective volition. - -The facts may be illustrated more concretely by taking a still simpler -example of collective volition. Consider the case of a regiment in -battle commanded to occupy a certain hill-top in face of fierce -opposition. If the regiment is one to which the self-regarding sentiment -of each member has become extended, the soldiers may be animated -individually by the pugnacious impulse and by the desire of individual -glory, but they are moved also by the common desire to show what the -regiment can do, to sustain its glorious reputation; they resolve that -we, the regiment, will accomplish this feat. As they charge up the hill, -the hail of bullets decimates their ranks and they waver, the impulse of -fear checking their onward rush; if then their officer appeals to the -common sentiment, each man feels the answering impulse; and this is -strengthened by the cheer which shows him that the same impulse rises in -all his comrades; and so this impulse, awakened within the collective -self-regarding sentiment and strengthened by sympathetic induction from -all to each, comes to the support of the pugnacious impulse or whatever -other motives sustain each man, enables these to triumph over the -impulse to flight, and sweeps them all on to gain their object by truly -collective volitional effort. If, on the other hand, the men of the -regiment have no such common sentiment, then, when the advancing line -wavers, the onward impulsion checked by the impulse of retreat, there is -no possibility of arousing a collective volition; the regiment, which -from the first was a crowd organised only by external authority and the -habits created by it, acts as a crowd and yields to the rising impulse -of the emotion of fear, which, becoming intensified by induction from -man to man, rises to a panic; and the regiment is routed. - -We may distinguish, then, five modes of conation which will carry all -the members of a group towards a common object, five levels of -collective action. - -Let the group be a body of men on a road leading across a wilderness to -a certain walled city. A sudden threat of danger from a band of robbers -or from wild beasts may send them all flying in panic towards the city -gate. That is a purely impulsive collective action. It is not merely a -sum of individual actions, because the fear and, therefore, the impulse -to flight of each man is intensified by the influence of his fellows. - -Secondly, let them be a band of pilgrims, fortuitously congregated, each -of whom has resolved to reach the city for his own private purposes. The -whole body moves on steadily, each perhaps aided in maintaining his -resolution in face of difficulties by the presence of the rest and the -spectacle of their resolute efforts. Here there is a certain -collectivity of action, the individual wills are strengthened by the -community of purpose. But the arrival of the band is not due to -collective volition; nor can it properly be said to be due to the will -of all; for each member cares nothing for the arrival of the band as a -whole; he desires and wills only his own arrival. - -Thirdly, let each member of the band be aware that, at any point of the -road, robbers may oppose the passage of any individual or of any company -not sufficiently strong to force its way through. Each member will then -desire that the whole band shall cohere and shall reach the city, and -the actions of the group will display a higher degree of co-operation -and collective efficiency than in the former cases; but the successful -passage of the band will be desired by each member simply in order that -his own safe arrival may be secured. There is direction of all wills -towards the production of the one result, the success of the whole band; -but this is not truly collective volition because the motives are -private and individual and diverse. - -Fourthly, let the band be an army of crusaders, a motley throng of -heterogeneous elements of various nationalities, united by one common -purpose, the capture of the city, but having no sentiment for the army. -In this case all members not only will the same collective action and -desire the same end of that action, but they have similar motives -arising from their sentiment for the city or that which it contains. -Still their combined actions are not the issue of a collective volition -in the full and proper sense of the words, but of a coincidental -conjunction of individual volitions. They might perhaps be said to be -the expression of the general will; and by giving that meaning to the -term 'general will,' while reserving the expression collective will or -volition for the type of case illustrated by our next instance, we may -usefully differentiate the two expressions. - -Lastly, let the band approaching the city be an army of crusaders of one -nationality, and let us suppose that this army has enjoyed a -considerable continuity of existence and that in the mind of each member -the self-regarding sentiment has become extended to the army as a whole, -so that, as we say, each one identifies himself with it and prizes its -reputation and desires its success as an end in itself. Such a -sentiment would be greatly developed and strengthened by rivalry in -deeds of arms with a second crusading army. Each member of this army -would have the same motives for capturing the city as those of the army -of our last instance; but, in addition to these motives, there would be -awakened within the extended self-regarding sentiment of each man an -impulse to assert the power, to sustain the glory of the army; and this, -adding its force to those other motives, would enable them to triumph -over all conflicting tendencies and render the resolution of the army to -capture the city a true collective volition; so that the army might -properly be said to possess and to exercise a general or collective -will. - -This distinction between the will of all and the collective will, which -we have considered at some length, may seem to be of slight importance -in the instances chosen. But it becomes of the greatest importance when -we have to consider the life of a nation or other enduring community. -The power of truly collective volition is no small advantage to any body -of fighting men and receives practical recognition from experienced -captains. - -The importance of these different types of volition was abundantly -illustrated by the incidents of the Boer war and of the Russo-Japanese -war. That the success of its undertaking shall be strongly willed by all -is perhaps the most important factor contributing to the success of an -army; and if also the army exercises a true collective volition, in the -sense defined above, it becomes irresistible. Though it is questionable -whether the Boer armies can be said to have exercised a collective -volition, it is at least certain that individually the Boers strongly -willed their common end, the defeat of the British. On the other hand, -the British armies were defective in these respects. The motives of -those who fought in the British armies against the Boers were very -diverse. The pay of the regulars, the five shillings a day of the -volunteers, the desire to live for a time an adventurous exciting life, -the desire to get home again on the sick-list as soon as possible, the -desire for personal distinction; all these and other motives were in -many minds mixed in various proportions with the desire to assert the -supremacy of the British rule and support the honour of the flag. This -difference between the Boer and British armies was undoubtedly a main -cause of many of the surprising successes of the former. In the -Russo-Japanese war the opposed armies probably differed even more widely -in this respect. The Japanese soldiers not only willed intensely the -common end, but their armies would appear to have exercised truly -collective volition. Many of the several regiments also, being recruited -on the territorial system, were animated by collective sentiments rooted -in local patriotism. The Russian armies on the other hand were largely -composed of peasants drawn from widely separated regions of the Russian -empire, knowing little or nothing of the grounds of quarrel or of the -ends to be achieved by their efforts, caring nothing individually for -those ends, and having but little patriotic sentiment and still less -sentiment for the army. - -It would, then, be a grave mistake to infer from the course of events in -these two wars that the British soldier was individually inferior to the -Boer, or the Russian to the Japanese; in both cases the principal -psychological condition of successful collective action--namely, a common -end intensely desired and strongly willed, individually or -collectively--was present in high degree on the one side, because the -preservation of the national existence was the end in view; while it was -lacking or comparatively deficient on the other side. As Sir Ian -Hamilton, a close observer of both these wars, has said--"the army that -will not surrender under any circumstances will always vanquish the army -whose units are prepared to do so under sufficient pressure." - -The same considerations afford an explanation of a peculiarity of -Russian armies which has often been noted in previous wars, and which -was very conspicuous in the late wars; namely, their weakness in attack -and their great strength when on the defensive. For, in attacking, a -Russian army is in the main merely obeying the will of the -commander-in-chief in virtue of custom, habit, and a form of strong -collective suggestion; but in retreat and on the defensive, each man's -action becomes truly volitional, all are animated by a common purpose, -and all will the same end, the safety of the whole with which that of -each member is bound up. - -The psychology of a patriot army is peculiarly simplified, as compared -with that of most other large human groups, by two conditions; on the -one hand, the restriction of the intellectual processes, by which the -large means for the pursuit of the common end are chosen, to one or a -few minds only; on the other hand, the definiteness and singleness of -its purpose and the presence of this clear and strong purpose in the -minds of all. - -Other groups that enjoy in some degree the latter condition of -simplicity of collective mental life are associations voluntarily formed -and organised for the attainment of some single well-defined end. In -them the former condition is generally completely lacking and the -deliberative processes, by which their means are chosen, are apt to be -very complex and ineffective, owing to lack of customary organisation. -Such associations illustrate more clearly than any other groups the part -played by the idea of the whole in the minds of the individuals in -constituting and maintaining the whole. A desire or purpose being -present in many minds, the idea of the association arises in some one or -more of them, and, being communicated to others, becomes the immediate -instrument through which the association is called into being; and only -so long as this idea of the whole as an instrument for attaining the -common end persists in the minds of the individuals does the association -continue to exist. In this respect such an association is at the -opposite end of the scale from the fortuitous crowd, which owes its -existence to the accidents of time and place merely. Human groups of -other kinds owe their existence in various proportions to these two -conditions; such groups, for example, as are constituted by the members -of a church, of a university or a school, of a profession or a township. -Others, such as nations, owe their inception to the accidents of time -and place, to physical boundaries and climatic conditions; and, in the -course of their evolution, become more and more dependent for their -existence on the idea of the whole and the sentiment organised about it -in the minds of their members; and they may, like the Jewish people, -arrive in the course of time at complete dependence on the latter -condition. - -The life of an army illustrates better than that of any other group the -influence of leadership. That great strategists and skilful tacticians -perform intellectual services of immeasurable importance for the common -end of the army goes without saying. But the moral influence of -leadership is more subtle in its workings, and is perhaps less generally -recognised in all its complexity and scope. It is well known that such -commanders as Napoleon inspired unlimited confidence and enthusiasm in -the veteran armies that had made many campaigns under their leadership. -Yet in the Great War, in which the British armies were, in its later -stages, composed so largely of new recruits, the same influence was -perceptible. Both the British and the French armies were very fortunate -in having in supreme command men in whom the common soldier felt -confidence. The solidity, the justice, the calm resolution of Marshal -Joffre were felt throughout the French army in the early days of the war -to be the one certain and fixed point in a crumbling universe. "Il est -solid, le Pere Joffre" was repeated by thousands who, remembering the -disaster of 1870, were inclined to suspect treachery and weakness on -every hand. And the genius of Marshal Foch and of other brilliant -generals was a main source of the astonishing dogged resolution with -which the French armies, in spite of their terrible losses, sustained -the prolonged agony. The British army also was fortunate in having in -Field-Marshal Haig a man at its head who was felt to be above all things -resolute and calm and just; and, when the British armies in France were -placed under the supreme control of Foch, it was generally felt -throughout the ranks that this would not only give unity of control and -purpose, but also supply that touch of genius which perhaps had been -lacking in British strategy. - -But it was not only the supreme command that exercised this influence -over the minds of all ranks. At every level confidence in the leadership -was of supreme importance. The character and talents of each general and -colonel, of each captain, lieutenant, sergeant and corporal, made -themselves felt by all under their control; felt not only individually -but corporately and collectively. The whole area under the command of -any particular general might be seen to reflect and to express in some -degree his attributes. The reputations of the higher officers filtered -down through the ranks in an astonishingly rapid and accurate manner; -perhaps owing largely to the fact that these armies, in a degree unknown -before, were composed of men accustomed to read and to think and to -discuss and criticise the conduct of affairs. If the German higher -command had been exercised from the first by a man who inspired the just -confidence that was felt in the old Field-Marshal v. Moltke by the -Prussian armies of 1870, it is probable that the issue of the Great War -would have been fatally different. - -The moral effects of good leadership are, perhaps, of more importance to -an army than its intellectual qualities, especially in a prolonged -struggle; and these work throughout the mass of men by subtle processes -of suggestion and emotional contagion rather than by any process of -purely intellectual appreciation. And the whole organisation of any -wisely directed army is designed to render as effective as possible -these processes by which the influence of leaders is diffused through -the whole. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -THE GROUP SPIRIT - - -In considering the mental life of a patriot army, as the type of a -highly organised group, we saw that _group self-consciousness_ is a -factor of very great importance--that it is a principal condition of the -elevation of its collective mental life and behaviour above the level of -the merely impulsive violence and unreasoning fickleness of the mob. - -This self-consciousness of the group is the essential condition of all -higher group life; we must therefore study it more nearly as it is -manifested in groups of various types. It is unfortunate that our -language has no word that accurately translates the French expression -'esprit de corps'; for this conveys exactly the conception that we are -examining. I propose to use the term group spirit as the equivalent of -the French expression, the frequent use of which in English speech and -writing sufficiently justifies the attempt to specialise this compound -word for psychological purposes. - -We have seen that, in virtue of the sentiment developed about the idea -of the army, all its members exhibit _group loyalty_; it is only as the -sentiment develops about the idea that this idea of the whole, present -to the mind of each member, becomes a power which can hold the whole -group together, in spite of all physical and moral difficulties. We see -this if we reflect how armies of mercenaries, in which this collective -sentiment is lacking or rudimentary only, are apt to dissolve and fade -away by desertion as soon as serious difficulties are encountered. - -The importance of the collective idea and sentiment appears still more -clearly, when we reflect on the type of army which has generally proved -the most efficient of all--namely, an army of volunteers banded together -to achieve some particular end. Such an army (for example the army of -Garibaldi) owes its existence to the operation of this idea in the minds -of all. The idea of the army is formed in the mind perhaps of one only -(Garibaldi); he communicates it to others, who accept it as a means to -the end desired by all of them individually. The idea of the whole thus -operates to create the group, to bring it into existence; and then, as -the idea is realised, it becomes more definite, of richer and more -exact meaning; the collective sentiment grows up about it, and habit and -formal organisation begin to aid in holding the group together; yet -still the idea of the whole remains constitutive of the whole. - -Any group that owes its creation and its continued existence to the -collective idea may be regarded from the psychological standpoint as of -the highest type; while a fortuitously gathered crowd that owes its -existence to accidents of time and place and has the barest minimum of -group self-consciousness is of the lowest type. Every other form of -association or of human group may be regarded as occupying a position in -a scale between these extreme types; according to the relative -predominance of the mental or the physical conditions of its origin and -continuance, that is to say, according to the degree in which its -existence is teleologically or mechanically determined. - -The group spirit, the idea of the group with the sentiment of devotion -to the group developed in the minds of all its members, not only serves -as a bond that holds the group together or even creates it, but, as we -saw in the case of the patriot army, it renders possible truly -collective volition; this in turn renders the actions of the group much -more resolute and effective than they could be, so long as its actions -proceed merely from the presence of an impulse common to all members, or -from the strictly individual volitions of all, even though these be -directed to one common end. - -Again, the group spirit plays an important part in raising the -intellectual level of the group; for it leads each member deliberately -to subordinate his own judgment and opinion to that of the whole; and, -in any properly organised group, this collective opinion will be -superior to that of the average individual, because in its formation the -best minds, acting upon the fullest knowledge to the gathering of which -all may contribute, will be of predominant influence. Each member, then, -willing the common end, accepts the means chosen by the organised -collective deliberation, and, in executing the actions prescribed for -him, makes them his own immediate ends and truly wills them for the sake -of the whole, not executing them in the spirit of merely mechanical -unintelligent obedience or even of reluctance. - -In a similar way the group spirit aids in raising the moral level of an -army. The organised whole embodies certain traditional sentiments, -especially sentiments of admiration for certain moral qualities, -courage, endurance, trustworthiness, and cheerful obedience; and these -sentiments, permeating the whole, are impressed upon every member, -especially new members, by way of mass suggestion and sympathetic -contagion; every new recruit finds that his comrades accept without -question these traditional moral sentiments and confidently express -moral judgments upon conduct and character in accordance with them, and -that they also display the corresponding emotional reactions towards -acts; that is to say, they express in verbal judgments and in emotional -reactions their scorn for treachery or cowardice, their admiration for -courageous self-sacrifice and devotion to duty. The recruit quickly -shares by contagion these moral emotions and soon finds his judgment -determined to share these opinions by the weight of mass suggestion; for -these moral propositions come to him with all the irresistible force of -opinion held by the group and expressed by its unanimous voice; and this -force is not merely the force derived from numbers, but is also the -force of the prestige accumulated by the whole group, the prestige of -old and well-tried tradition, the prestige of age; and the more fully -the consciousness of the whole group is present to the mind of each -member, the more effectively will the whole impress its moral precepts -upon each. - -And the organisation of the army renders it possible for the leaders to -influence and to mould the form of these moral opinions and sentiments. -Thus Lord Kitchener, by issuing his exhortation to the British Army on -its departure to France, did undoubtedly exert a considerable influence -towards raising the moral level of the whole force, because he -strengthened the influence of those who were already of his way of -thinking against the influence of those whose sentiments and habits and -opinions made in the opposite direction. His great prestige, which was -of a double kind, both personal and due to his high office, enabled him -to do this. In the same way, every officer in a less degree can do -something to raise the moral level of the men under his command. Thus, -then, the organisation of the whole group, with its hierarchy of offices -which confer prestige, gives those who hold these higher offices the -opportunity to raise the moral level of all members. - -Of course, if those who occupy these positions of prestige feel no -responsibility of this sort and make no effort to exert such influence, -but rather aim at striking terror in the foe at all costs, if they -countenance acts of savagery such as the destruction of cities, looting, -and rapine, if they publicly instruct their soldiers to behave as Huns -or savages; then the organisation of the army works in the opposite -way--namely, to degrade all members below their normal individual level, -rather than to raise them above it; and then we hear of acts of -brutality on the part of the rank and file which are almost incredible. - -But the main point to be insisted on here is that the raising of the -moral level is not effected only by example, suggestion, and emotional -contagion, spreading from those in the positions of prestige; that, -where the group spirit exists, those enjoying prestige can, if they -wish, greatly promote the end of raising the moral tone of the whole by -appealing to that group spirit; as when Lord Kitchener asked the men to -obey his injunctions for the sake of the honour of the British Army. - -And the group spirit not only yields this direct response to moral -exhortation; it operates in another no less important manner. Each -member of a group pervaded by the collective sentiment, such as a -well-organised army of high traditions, becomes in a special sense his -brother's keeper. Each feels an interest in the conduct of every other -member, because the conduct of each affects the reputation of the whole; -each man, therefore, punishes bad conduct of any fellow soldier by scorn -and by withdrawal of sympathy and companionship; and each one rewards -with praise and admiration the conduct that conforms to the standards -demanded and admired. And so each member acts always under the jealous -eyes of all his fellows, under the threat of general disapprobation, -contempt, and moral isolation for bad conduct; under the promise of -general approval and admiration for any act of special excellence. - -The development of the group spirit, with the appropriate sentiment of -attachment or devotion to the whole and therefore also to its parts, is -the essence of the higher form of military discipline. There is a lower -form of discipline which aims only at rendering each man perfectly -subservient to his officers and trained to respond promptly and -invariably, in precise, semi-mechanical, habitual fashion, to every word -of command. But even the drill and the system of penalties and minute -supervision, which are the means chosen to bring about this result, -cannot fail to achieve certain effects on a higher moral and -intellectual level than the mere formation of bodily habits of response. -By rendering each soldier apt and exact in his response to commands, -they enable each one to foresee the actions of his fellows in all -ordinary circumstances, and therefore to rely upon that co-operation -towards the common end, be it merely a turning movement on the drill -ground or the winning of a battle, which is the essential aim and -justification of all group life. - -The group spirit, involving knowledge of the group as such, some idea of -the group, and some sentiment of devotion or attachment to the group, is -then the essential condition of all developed collective life, and of -all effective collective action; but it is by no means confined to -highly developed human associations of a voluntary kind. - -Whether the group spirit is possessed in any degree by animal societies -is a very difficult question. We certainly do not need to postulate it -in order to account for the existence of more or less enduring -associations of animals; just as we do not need to postulate it to -account for the coming together of any fortuitous human mob. Even in -such animal societies as those of the ants and bees, its presence, -though often asserted, seems to be highly questionable. When we observe -the division of labour that characterises the hive, how some bees -ventilate, some build the comb, some feed the larvae and so on; and -especially when we hear that the departure of a swarm from the hive is -preceded by the explorations of a small number which seek a suitable -place for the new home of the swarm and then guide it to the chosen -spot, it seems difficult to deny that some idea of the community and its -needs is present to the minds of its members. But we know so little as -yet of the limits of purely instinctive behaviour (and by that I mean -immediate reactions upon sense-perceptions determined by the innate -constitution) that it would be rash to make any such inference. The same -may be said of associations of birds or mammals, in which division of -labour is frequently displayed; when, for example, it is found that one -or more sentinels constantly keep watch while a flock or herd feeds or -rests, as is reported of many gregarious species. - -But, however it may be with animal societies, we may confidently assert -that the group spirit has played an important part in the lives of all -enduring human groups, from the most primitive ages onwards. - -It has even been maintained with some plausibility that group -self-consciousness preceded individual self-consciousness in the course -of the evolution of the human mind. That again is, it seems to me, a -proposition which cannot be substantiated. But it is, I think, true to -say that the two kinds of self-consciousness must have been achieved by -parallel processes, which constantly reacted upon one another in -reciprocal promotion. - -In the lives of the humblest savages the group spirit plays an immensely -important part. It is the rule that a savage is born into a small -closed community. Such a community generally has its own locality within -which it remains, even if nomadic; and, if settled, it wholly lives in a -village, widely separated in space from all others. In this small -community the child grows up, becoming more or less intimately -acquainted with every member of it, and having practically no -intercourse with any other persons. Throughout his childhood he learns -its laws and traditions, becomes acutely aware of its public opinion, -and finds his welfare absolutely bound up with that of the village -community. He cannot leave it if he would; the only alternative open to -him is to become an outcast, as which he would very soon succumb in the -struggle for life. There is nothing comparable with this in our complex -civilised societies. The nearest parallel to it is the case of the young -child growing up in a peculiarly secluded family isolated in the depths -of the country. - -This restriction of the intercourse of the young savage to the members -of his own small society and his absolute dependence upon it for all -that makes his survival possible would in themselves suffice to develop -his group consciousness in a high degree. But two other conditions, -well-nigh universal in savage life, tend strongly towards the same -result. - -When the young savage begins to come into contact with persons other -than those of his own group, he learns to know them, not as individuals, -John Smith or Tom Brown, but as men of such or such a group; and he -himself is known to them as a man of his group, as representing his -group, his village community, tribe, or what not; and he displays -usually some mark or marks of his group, either in dress or ornament or -speech. - -The other great condition of the development of the group spirit in -primitive societies is the general recognition of communal -responsibility. This no doubt is largely the result of the two -conditions previously mentioned, especially of the recognition of an -individual by members of other groups as merely a representative of his -group, rather than as an individual, and of the fact that his deeds, or -those of any one of his fellows, determine the attitudes of other groups -towards his group as a whole. But the influence of the principle of -communal responsibility, thus established, becomes immensely -strengthened by its recognition in a number of superstitious and -religious observances. The savage lives, generally speaking, bound hand -and foot by _tabus_ and precise prescriptions of behaviour for all -ordinary situations; and the breach of any one of these by any member of -the community is held to bring down misfortune or punishment on the -whole group; so far is this principle carried, that the breach of custom -by some individual is confidently inferred from the incidence of any -communal misfortune[34]. - -The recognition of communal responsibility is the great conservator of -savage society and customary law, the very root and stem of all savage -morality; it is the effective moral sanction without which the -superstitious and religious sanctions would be of little effect. By its -means, the idea of the community is constantly obtruded on the -consciousness of the individual. Through it he is constantly led, or -forced, to control his individualistic impulses and to undertake action -with regard to the welfare of the group rather than to his own private -interest. Through it the tendency of each to identify himself and each -of his fellows with the whole group is constantly fostered; because it -identifies their interests. - -We may then say that, just as the direct induction of emotion and -impulse by sense-perception of their bodily expressions is the cement of -animal societies, so group self-consciousness is the cement and -harmonising principle of primitive human societies. - -And the group spirit is not only highly effective in promoting the life -and welfare of the group; it is also the source of peculiar -satisfactions. The individual revels in his group-consciousness; hence -the principle is apt to run riot in savage societies, and we find that -in very many parts of the world a great variety of complex forms of -association is maintained, beside the primary and fundamental form of -association of the village community or nomadic band (the kinship or -subsistence group), apparently for no other reason than the attainment -and intensification of the satisfactions of the group spirit. Hence, -among peoples so low in the scale of savagery as the Australians, we -find a most complex system of grouping cutting across the subsistence -grouping; hence totem clans and phratries, exogamous groups, secret -societies, initiation ceremonies. - -I lay stress on the satisfaction which group self-consciousness brings -as a condition or cause of these complexities of savage society, -because, I think, it has been unduly neglected as a socialising factor -and a determinant of the forms of association. If we ask--What are the -sources of this satisfaction?--we may find two answers. First, the -consciousness of the group and of oneself as a member of it brings a -sense of power and security, an assurance of sympathy and co-operation, -a moral and physical support without which man can hardly face the -world. In a thousand situations it is a source of settled opinions and -of definite guidance of conduct which obviates the most uncomfortable -and difficult necessity of exerting independent judgment and making up -one's own mind. And in many such situations, not only does the savage -find a definite code prescribed for his guidance, but he shares the -collective emotion and feels the collective impulse that carries him on -to action without hesitation or timidity. - -Secondly, we may, I think, go back to a very fundamental principle of -instinctive life, the principle, namely, that, in gregarious animals, -the satisfaction of the gregarious impulse is greater or more complete -the more nearly alike are the individuals congregated together. This -seems to be true of the animals, but it is true in a higher degree of -man; and, in proportion as his mind becomes more specialised and -refined, the more exacting is he in this respect. To the uncultivated -any society is better than none; but in the cultivated classes we become -extraordinarily exacting; we find the gregarious satisfaction in our own -peculiar _set_ only--a process carried furthest, perhaps, in university -circles. In savage life this shows itself in practices which accentuate -the likeness of members of a group and mark it off more distinctly from -other groups--for example, totems, peculiarities of dress, ornaments and -ceremonies; things which are closely paralleled by the clubs, blazers, -colours, cries, and so forth of our undergraduate communities. - -The life of the savage, then, is in general dominated by that of the -group; and this domination is not effected by physical force or -compulsion (save in exceptional instances) but by the group spirit which -is inevitably developed in the mind of the savage child by the material -circumstances of his life and by the traditions, especially the -superstitious and religious traditions, of his community. Such group -self-consciousness is the principal moralising influence, and to this -influence is due in the main the fact that savages conform so strictly -to their accepted moral codes. - -Group self-consciousness in savage communities brings then, I suggest, -two great advantages which account for the spontaneous development and -persistence among so many savage peoples of what, from a narrowly -utilitarian point of view, might seem to be an excess of group -organisation, such as the totemic systems of the Australians and of the -American Indians;--namely, firstly, the moralising influences of the -group spirit; secondly, the satisfactions or enjoyments immediately -accruing to every participant in active group life. - -And these two advantages, being in some degree appreciated, lead to a -deliberate cultivation of group life for the securing of them in higher -measure. The cultivation of group life shows itself in the many -varieties of grouping on a purely artificial basis and in the practice -of rites and ceremonies, especially dances, often accompanied by song -and other music. There is nothing that so intensifies group -consciousness, at the cost of consciousness of individuality, as -ceremonial dancing and singing; especially when the dance consists of a -series of extravagant bizarre movements, executed by every member of the -group in unison, the series of movements being at the same time peculiar -to the particular group that practises them and symbolical of the -peculiar functions or properties claimed by the group. Many savage -dances have these characters in perfection; as, for example, those of -the Murray islanders of Torres Straits, where, as I have witnessed, the -several totemic groups--the dog-men, the pigeon-men, the shark-men, and -other such groups--continue, in spite of the partial destruction by -missionaries of their totemistic beliefs, to revel in night-long -gatherings, at which each group in turn mimics, in fantastic dances and -with solemn delight, the movements of its totem animal. - -The importance of group consciousness in savage life has been recently -much insisted on by some anthropologists, and indeed, in my view, -overstated. Cornford[35] writes "When the totem-clan meets to hold its -peculiar dance, to work itself up till it feels the pulsing of its -common life through all its members, such nascent sense of individuality -as a savage may have--it is always very faint--is merged and lost; his -consciousness is filled with a sense of sympathetic activity. The group -is now feeling and acting as one soul, with a total force much greater -than any of its members could exercise in isolation. The individual is -lost, 'beside himself,' in one of those states of contagious enthusiasm -in which it is well known that men become capable of feats which far -outrange their normal powers." And again "Over and above their -individual experience, all the members of the group alike partake of -what has been called the collective consciousness of the group as a -whole. Unlike their private experience, this pervading consciousness is -the same in all, consisting in those epidemic or infectious states of -feeling above described, which, at times when the common functions are -being exercised, invade the whole field of mentality, and submerge the -individual areas. To this group-consciousness belong also, from the -first moment of their appearance all representations which are -collective, a class in which all religious representations are included. -These likewise are diffused over the whole mentality of the group, and -identical in all its members.... The collective consciousness is thus -super-individual. It resides, of course, in the individuals composing -the group. There is nowhere else for it to exist, but it resides in all -of them together and not completely in any one of them. It is both in -myself and yet not myself. It occupies a certain part of my mind and yet -it stretches beyond and outside me to the limits of my group. And since -I am only a small part of my group, there is much more of it outside me -than inside. Its force therefore is much greater than my individual -force, and the more primitive I am the greater this preponderance will -be. Here, then, there exists in the world a power which is much greater -than any individual's--super-individual, that is to say superhuman." - -"Because this force is continuous with my own consciousness, it is, as -it were, a reservoir to which I have access, and from which I can absorb -superhuman power to reinforce and enhance my own. This is its positive -aspect--in so far as this power is not myself and greater than myself, it -is a moral and restraining force, which can and does impose upon the -individual the necessity of observing the uniform behaviour of the -group." This writer makes group consciousness the source of both -morality and religion. "The collective consciousness is also immanent in -the individual himself, forming within him that unreasoning impulse -called conscience, which like a traitor within the gates, acknowledges -from within the obligation to obey that other and much larger part of -the collective consciousness which lies outside. Small wonder that -obedience is absolute in primitive man, whose individuality is still -restricted to a comparatively small field, while all the higher levels -of mentality are occupied by this overpowering force[36]." The first -religious idea is that of "this collective consciousness, the only moral -power which can come to be felt as imposed from without." And Cornford -goes yet further and makes of the group self-consciousness the source of -magic as well as of religion and morality. This primary reservoir of -super-individual power splits, he says, into two pools, human and -non-human; the former is magic power, the latter is divine power. - -On this I would comment as follows. Although Cornford is right in -insisting upon the large influence of group consciousness, he is wrong, -I think, in underestimating individuality. He does not go so far as -some writers who suggest that group self-consciousness actually -precedes individual self-consciousness, but he says of individual -self-consciousness that it is but very faint in savages. I am more -inclined to agree with Lotze, who in a famous passage asserted that -even the crushed worm is in an obscure way aware of itself and its -pain as set over against the world. Many facts of savage behaviour -forbid us to accept the extreme view that denies them individual -self-consciousness--individual names, secret names, private property, -private rites, religious and magical, individual revenge, jealousy, -running _amok_, leadership, self-assertion, pride, vanity, competition -in games of skill and in technical and artistic achievement. The -flourishing of these and many other such things in primitive communities -reveals clearly enough to the unbiassed observer in the field the -effective presence of individual self-consciousness in the savage mind. -In this connexion I may refer to two pieces of evidence bearing very -directly on the question reported by Dr C. Hose and myself. Among the -Sea-Dayaks or Ibans of Borneo we discovered the prevalence of the belief -in the 'nyarong' or private 'spirit helper,' some spiritual or animated -individual power which a fortunate individual here and there finds -reason to believe is attached to him personally for his guidance and -help in all difficult situations. His belief in this personal helper and -the rites by aid of which he communicates with it are kept secret from -his fellows; so that it was only after long and intimate acquaintance -with these people that Dr Hose began to suspect the existence of this -peculiarly individualistic belief[37]. In the same volumes we have -described the Punans of Borneo, a people whose mode of life is in every -respect extremely primitive. In this respect they are perhaps unequalled -by any other existing people. Yet no one who is acquainted with these -amiable folk could doubt that, although their group consciousness is -highly developed, they enjoy also a well developed individual -self-consciousness. How otherwise can we interpret the fact that a Punan -who suffers malicious injury from a member of another tribe will nurse -his vengeful feeling for an indefinite period and, after the lapse of -years, will find an opportunity to bring down his enemy secretly with -blow-pipe and poisoned dart? - -With Mr Cornford's view of the part played by the group spirit in -moralising conduct I agree. I agree also that it is the collective life -or mind that develops religion and in part magic; but in my view -Cornford attributes to the savage far too much reflective theorising; he -represents him as formulating a theory of the collective consciousness -which is really almost identical with the interesting speculation of M. -Levy Bruhl presently to be noticed, and he regards his conduct, his -religious and magical practices, as guided by these theories. But that -is to reverse the true order of things--to make theory precede practice; -whereas in reality, especially in religion and magic, practice has -everywhere preceded theory, often, as in this case, by thousands of -generations[38]. - -It is true that the savage often behaves as though he held this theory -of the collective consciousness as a field of force in which he -participates; that his conduct seems to require such a theory for its -rational justification. But it by no means follows that he has -formulated any theory at all. What the savage is conscious of is, not a -collective consciousness as a mysterious superhuman power, but the group -itself, the group of concrete embodied fellow men. He behaves and feels -as he does, because participation in the life of the group directly -modifies his individual tendencies and directly evokes these feelings -and actions; he does not discover, or seek, any theory by which to -explain them. Still less is it true that he performs these actions -because he has formulated a theory of a collective consciousness. - -Mr Cornford regards the savage idea of a collective consciousness as the -germ of the idea of divine power or of God. Now this is connected with -the question of animism, preanimism, and dynanimism. It may be true that -the notion of _mana_ is the common prime source of religious and magical -ideas, but it does not follow that the idea of God is arrived at by way -of a notion of collective _mana_. No doubt that would be the probable -course of events, if the savage had so little sense of his individuality -as Cornford supposes; but it seems to me rather that the savage's strong -sense of individuality has led at an early stage to the personalisation, -the individuation, of _mana_, the vaguely conceived spiritual power and -influence, and that it was only by a long course of religious and -philosophical speculation that men reached the conception of the -Absolute or of God as a universal power of which each personal -consciousness is a partial manifestation. - -It is interesting to note that, if we could accept Cornford's views, we -could now claim to witness the completion of one full cycle of the -wheel of speculation, the last step having been made in an article in a -recent number of the _Hibbert Journal_[39]; for it is there suggested -that the only God or super-individual power we ought to recognise and -revere is, not a collective consciousness conceived as a -supra-individual unity of consciousness, but the collective mind of -humanity in the sense in which I am using the term, a system of mental -forces that slowly progresses towards greater harmony and integration. - -M. Levy Bruhl has written an interesting, though highly speculative, -account of savage mental life which he represents as differing -profoundly from our own, chiefly in that it is dominated by 'collective -representations[40].' His view is not unlike that put forward by -Cornford. - -Collective representations or ideas are rightly said to be the product -of the group mind rather than of any individual mind; that is to say, -they have been gradually evolved by collective mental life; and they are -said to differ from our ideas in being "states more complex in which the -emotional and motor elements are integral parts of the ideas." Thinking -by aid of these collective representations is said to have its own laws -quite distinct from the laws of logic. - -These statements are no doubt correct; but both Levy Bruhl and Cornford -commit the great error of assuming that the mental life of civilised man -is conducted by each individual in a purely rational and logical manner; -they overlook the fact that we also are largely dominated by collective -representations; for these collective representations are nothing but -ideas of objects to which traditional sentiments, sentiments of awe, of -fear, of respect, of love, of reverence, are attached. Almost the whole -of the religion and morality of the average civilised man is based on -his acquisition of such collective representations, traditional -sentiments grown up about ideas of objects, ideas which he receives -ready made and sentiments which are impressed upon him by the community -that has evolved them. - -It is no doubt true that in the main the field of objects to which -collective representations apply is larger in savage life; and these -ideas are more uniform and more powerful and unquestioned, because the -group is more homogeneous in its sentiments. But it is, fortunately, -only a rare individual here and there among us who in considerable -degree emancipates himself from the influence of such representations -and becomes capable of confronting all objects about him in a perfectly -cool, critical, logical attitude--who can "peep and botanise upon his -mother's grave." Only by strict intellectual discipline do we progress -towards strictly logical operations in relation to real life, towards -pure judgments of fact as opposed to judgments of value. For our -judgments of value are rooted in our sentiments; and whatever is for us -an object of a sentiment of love or hate, of attachment or aversion, can -only with the greatest difficulty, if at all, be made an object of a -pure judgment of fact. - -And Cornford and Levy Bruhl make the same mistake in regard -to 'collective representations' as in regard to the group -self-consciousness--namely, they credit the savage with theories for the -explanation of the beliefs implicitly involved in the 'collective -representations,' for example, the theory of mystic participation, which -is said to replace for the savage the civilised man's theory of -mechanical causation. But, when we regard any material object as holy, -or sacred, or as of peculiar value, because it was given us by a -departed friend, or belonged to and perhaps was once worn by a beloved -person, our behaviour towards it is not determined by any theory of -participation; if, for example, we touch it tenderly and with reverent -care, that is the direct expression of our feeling. We even behave as if -we held the theory of participation, to the extent of believing that the -dead or distant person will suffer pain if we ill-use or neglect the -object which is associated with him in our minds, but without actually -holding that belief; and still more without elaborating a theory of the -nature of the process by which our action will produce such an effect. -It is only a late and highly sophisticated reflection upon behaviour of -this kind which leads to theories for the justification of such -behaviour. It is not true, then, that we are logical individuals, while -savages are wholly prelogical in virtue of the dominance among them of -the collective mental life. The truth rather is that, wherever emotion -qualifies our intellectual operations, it renders them other than purely -and strictly logical; and the savage or the civilised man departs more -widely from the strictly logical conduct of his intellect, in proportion -as his conceptions of things are absorbed without critical reflection -and analysis and are coloured with the traditional sentiments of his -community. The average savage, being more deeply immersed in his group, -suffers these effects more strongly than the average civilised man. Yet -the interval in this respect between the modern man of scientific -culture and the average citizen of our modern states is far greater -than that between the latter and the savage. - -If one had to name the principal difference between the conditions of -life of the typical savage and those of the average civilised man, one -would, I think, have to point to the lack in civilised life of those -conditions which so inevitably develop the group consciousness of the -savage. The family circle supplies to the young child something of these -conditions, but in a very imperfect degree only. At an early age this -influence is much weakened by general intercourse. As the individual -approaches maturity, he finds himself at liberty to cut himself off -completely from all his natural setting, to transplant himself to any -part of the world, and to share in the life of any civilised community. -He can earn his livelihood anywhere, and he knows nothing of communal -responsibility. - -Progressive weakening of the conditions that force the development of -group self-consciousness has characterised the whole course of the -development of civilisation, and has reached its climax in the -conditions of life in our large cities. - -In primitive communities the conditions of group self-consciousness are, -as we have seen, fourfold; namely kinship, territorial, traditional and -occupational association. All these are present in the highest degree in -the nomadic group under the typical patriarchal system. - -When kinship groups take to agriculture and become permanently settled -on one spot, the kinship factor tends to be weakened, through the -inclusion of alien elements; and the territorial factor becomes the most -important condition. Throughout European history the territorial factor, -expressing itself in the form of the village-community, remained of -universal importance in this respect; the Roman Empire and the Roman -Church weakened it greatly; but everywhere outside those spheres it -continued to be of dominant importance until the great social revolution -of the modern industrial period. - -The village community maintained much of the tradition and custom that -tend to develop group self-consciousness with its moralising influence. -But at the present time almost the only condition of wide and general -influence that continues in times of peace to foster group -self-consciousness is occupational association. And so we find men -tending more and more to be grouped for all serious collective -activities according to their occupations. From the earliest development -of European industry this tendency has been strong; it produced the -trading and craft guilds which played so great a part in medieval -Europe; and, though the monarchical and capitalistic regimes of modern -times have done all they can to repress and break up these occupational -groups, and have greatly restricted their influence, they have failed to -suppress them entirely. The climax of this tendency for the occupational -to replace and overshadow all other forms of self-conscious grouping is -present-day Syndicalism. - -The natural conditions of group self-consciousness, which in primitive -societies rendered its development inevitable and spontaneous in every -man, have then been in the main destroyed. But man cannot stand alone; -men cannot live happily as mere individuals; they desire and crave and -seek membership in a group, in whose collective opinions and emotions -and self-consciousness and activities they may share, with which they -may identify themselves, thereby lessening the burden of individual -responsibility, judgment, decision and effort. - -Hence in this age the natural groupings and the involuntary developments -of group consciousness are largely replaced by an enormous development -of artificial voluntary groupings, over and above the natural groupings -that are still only in very imperfect measure determined by the weakened -force of the natural conditions, namely kinship, neighbourhood and -occupation. - -In part these artificial groupings are designed to reinforce the natural -conditions, as, for example, village festivals. The whole population of -a country such as our own is permeated by a vast and complexly -interwoven, or rather tangled, skein of the bonds of voluntary -associations. Many of these are, of course, formed to undertake some -definite work, to achieve some end which can only be achieved by -co-operative effort. But in the majority of such cases the satisfactions -yielded by group life play a very great part in leading to the formation -of and in maintaining the groups, for example, groups of philanthropic -workers, the makers of charity bazaars, the salvation army, the -churches, the chapels, the sects. Most of such associations that have -any success and continuity of existence contain a nucleus of persons who -identify themselves in the fullest possible manner with the group, make -its interest their leading concern, the desire of its welfare their -dominant motive, and find in its service their principal satisfaction -and happiness. - -And in very many voluntary associations the group-motives, the desire -for the satisfactions to be found in group life, are of prime -importance, predominating vastly over the desire to achieve any -particular end by co-operative action. Such are our countless clubs and -societies formed frankly for recreation, or for mutual improvement, and -for all kinds of ostensible purposes which serve merely as excuses or -reasons for the existence of the club. In the majority of instances -these declared purposes really serve merely or chiefly to exert a -certain natural selection of persons, to bring together persons of -similar tastes as voluntary associates, to enable, in short, birds of a -feather to flock together. Even some of our enduring historical -institutions owe their continuance chiefly to the advantages and -satisfactions that proceed from group consciousness, for example, -colleges, school-houses, and political parties, especially perhaps in -America. Party feeling, as Sir H. Maine rightly said, is frequently a -remedy for the inertia of democracy. - -The savage, when he maintains associations other than those determined -by natural conditions, intensifies his group consciousness by wearing -badges and totem marks, by tatooing and scarring, and by indulging in -various rites and ceremonies, about which a certain secrecy and mystery -is maintained. And civilised men exhibit just the same tendency and take -very similar measures to intensify group consciousness. We have our club -colours and ribbons and blazers, our college gowns and colours, our -Oxford accent, our badges of membership, and so on. Freemasonry, with -its lodges and badges and mysterious rites, seems to be the purest -example on a large scale. And, when the group consciousness and the -group sentiment have been acquired, we continue to cultivate it purely -for its own sake, by holding annual dinners and reunions of old boys, -and so forth. - -It is of the greatest importance that this tendency to seek and maintain -a share in group consciousness, which, as we have seen, manifests itself -everywhere even under the most adverse conditions, not merely yields -comfort and satisfaction to individuals, but brings about results which -are in almost every way extremely advantageous for the higher -development of human life in general. - -We have seen that, in the well-organised group, collective deliberation, -judgment, and action are raised to a higher plane of effectiveness than -is possible to the average member of the group. But apart from that, the -group spirit continues with us, as with the savage (though in a less -effective degree) to be the great socialising agency. In the majority of -cases it is the principal, if not the sole, factor which raises a man's -conduct above the plane of pure egoism, leads him to think and care and -work for others as well as for himself. Try to imagine any man wholly -deprived of his group consciousness and set over against all his -fellowmen as an individual unit, and you will see that you could expect -but little from him in the way of self-sacrifice or public service--at -most a care for his wife and children and sporadic acts of kindliness -when direct appeals are made to his pity; but none of that energetic and -devoted public service and faithful self-sacrificing co-operation -without which the continued welfare of any human society is impossible. - -The group spirit destroys the opposition and the conflict between the -crudely individualistic and the primitive altruistic tendencies of our -nature. - -This is the peculiar merit and efficiency of the complex motives that -arise from the group spirit; they bring the egoistic self-seeking -impulses into the service of society and harmonise them with the -altruistic tendencies. The group spirit secures that the egoistic and -the altruistic tendencies of each man's nature, instead of being in -perpetual conflict, as they must be in its absence, shall harmoniously -co-operate and re-enforce one another throughout a large part of the -total field of human activity. - -For it is of the essence of the group spirit that the individual -identifies himself, as we say, with the group more or less; that is to -say, in technical language, his self-regarding sentiment becomes -extended to the group more or less completely, so that he is moved to -desire and to work for its welfare, its success, its honour and glory, -by the same motives which prompt him to desire and to work for his own -welfare and success and honour; as in the case of the student working -for a scholarship or university prize, or the member of an exploring -expedition or fighting group. Further, the motives supplied by the group -spirit may be stronger than, and may overpower, the purely -individualistic egoistic motives, just because they harmonise with, and -are supported by, any altruistic tendency or tendencies comprised in the -make up of the individual; which altruistic tendencies will, where the -group spirit is lacking, oppose and weaken the effects of purely -egoistic motives. To illustrate this principle, let us imagine an -Englishman who, in a Congo forest, finds a white man sick or in -difficulties. To succour the sick man may be to incur grave risks, and -he is tempted to pass on; but the thought comes to him that in so doing -he will lower the prestige of the white man in the eyes of the natives; -and this idea, evoking the motives of the group spirit which unites all -white men in such a land, brings victory to his sense of pity in its -struggle with selfish fear. - -In this way, that is by extension to the group, the egoistic impulses -are transmuted, sublimated, and deprived of their individualistic -selfish character and effects and are turned to public service. Hence it -is that it is generally so difficult or impossible to analyse the -motives of any public service or social activity and to display them as -either purely egoistic or altruistic; for they are, as Herbert Spencer -called them, ego-altruistic. And hence it comes about that both the -cynic and the idealist can make out plausible cases, when they seek to -show that either egoism or altruism predominates in human life. Both are -right in a partial sense. - -Another noteworthy feature of the group spirit renders it extremely -effective in promoting social life; namely the fact that, although the -group sentiment is apt to determine an attitude of rivalry, competition, -and antagonism towards similarly constituted groups, yet a man may share -in the self-consciousness of more groups than one, so long as their -natures and aims do not necessarily bring them into rivalry. And in our -complex modern societies this principle of multiple group consciousness -in each man is of extreme importance; for without it, and in the absence -or comparative lack of the natural conditions of grouping other than the -occupational, the whole population would become divided into -occupational groups, each fighting collectively against every other for -the largest possible share of the good things of life. A tendency -towards this state of things is very perceptible, in spite of the -correcting cross-connexions of kinship, of church and political party, -and of territorial association. - -But another principle of multiple group consciousness is, perhaps, of -still greater importance, namely that it allows the formation of a -hierarchy of group sentiments for a system of groups in which each -larger group includes the lesser; each group being made the object of -the extended self-regarding sentiment in a way which includes the -sentiment for the lesser group in the sentiment for the larger group in -which it is comprised. Thus the family, the village, the county, the -country as a whole, form for the normal man the objects of a harmonious -hierarchy of sentiments of this sort, each of which strengthens rather -than weakens the others, and yields motives for action which on the -whole co-operate and harmonise rather than conflict. - -Such a hierarchy is seen in savage life. It often happens that a man is -called on to join in the defence of some village of the tribe other than -his own. In such cases he is moved not only by his tribal sentiment, but -also by his sentiments for his village and family. The sentiment for the -part supports the sentiment for the whole. - -It is of considerable importance also that in general the development of -a sentiment of attachment to one group not only does not prevent, but -rather facilitates, the development of similar sentiments for other -groups. And this is especially true when the groups concerned are -related to one another as parts and wholes, that is, when they form a -hierarchy of successively more widely inclusive groups. The sentiment -for the smaller group (e.g. the family) naturally develops first in the -child's mind; if only for the reason that this is the group of which he -can first form a definite idea, and with the whole of which he is in -immediate relations. The strong development of this first group -sentiment prepares the child's mind for the development of other and -wider group sentiments. For it increases his power of grasping -intellectually the group of persons as a complex whole; and it -strengthens by exercise those impulses or primary tendencies which must -enter into the constitution of any group sentiment; and, thirdly, it -prevents the excessive development of the purely individualistic -attitude, of the habit of looking at every situation and weighing all -values from the strictly individualistic and egoistic standpoint; which -attitude, if once it becomes habitual, must form a powerful hindrance to -the development of the wider group sentiments, when the child arrives at -an age to grasp the idea of the larger group. - -The organisation of an army again illustrates these principles in -relatively clear and simple fashion. In our own army the regiment is the -traditional self-conscious unit about which traditional sentiment and -ritual have been carefully fostered, in part through realisation of -their practical importance, in part because this unit is of such a size -and nature as to be well suited to call out strongly the natural group -tendencies of its component individuals. On the whole the military -authorities, and especially Lord Haldane in the formation of the -territorial army, seem to have wisely recognised the importance of the -group spirit of the regiment; although during the Great War it was, -under the pressure of other considerations, apparently lost sight of at -certain times and places, with, I believe, deplorable consequences. - -In modern warfare, and especially in the Great War, the Division has -tended to become of predominant importance as the unit of organisation; -and accordingly, without destroying or superseding regimental group -consciousness, the sentiment for the Division has been in many instances -a very strong factor in promoting the spiritual cohesion and efficiency -of the army. Certain Divisions, such as the 10th and the 29th, have -covered themselves with glory, so that the soldiers have learnt to feel -a great pride in and a devotion to the Division. - -This larger group, although of comparatively ephemeral existence and -therefore devoid of long traditions coming down from the past, is in -perfect and obvious harmony, in purpose and spirit and material -organisation, with the battalions and other units of which it is -composed; and, accordingly, the sentiment for the larger group does not -enter into rivalry with that for the battalion, the battery, or other -smaller unit; rather it comprises this within its own organisation and -derives energy and stability from it. - -These psychological principles of group consciousness are, I think, well -borne out inductively, by any comparative survey; that is to say, we -find that, where family sentiment and the sentiment for the local group -are strong, there also the wider group sentiments are strong, and good -citizenship, patriotism, and ready devotion to public services of all -kinds are the rule. The strongest most stable States have always been -those in which family sentiment has been strong, especially those in -which it has been strengthened and supported by the custom of ancestor -worship, as in Rome, Japan and China. Scotchmen again (Highlanders -especially) are noted for clannishness, and Scotch cousins have become a -bye-word; a fact which implies the great strength of the family -sentiment. The clan sentiment, which is clearly only an extension of the -family sentiment, is also notoriously strong. The sentiment for Scotland -as a whole is no less strong in the hearts of all her sons. But, and -this is the important point, these strong group sentiments are perfectly -compatible with and probably conducive to a sentiment for the still -wider group, Great Britain or the British Empire; and the public -services rendered to these larger groups by men of Scottish birth are -equally notorious. - -In these considerations we may see, I think, a principal ground of the -importance of the institution of the family for the welfare of the -state. The importance has often been insisted upon; but too much stress -is usually laid upon the material aspects, and not enough upon the -mental effects, of family life. - -It has been a grave mistake on the part of many collectivists, from -Plato onwards, that they have sought to destroy the family and to bring -up all children as the children of the state only, in some kind of -barrack system. It is not too much to say that, if they could succeed in -this (and in this country great strides in this direction are being -rapidly made), they would destroy the mental foundations of all -possibility of collective life of the higher type. - -We touch here upon a question of policy of the highest importance. There -are, it seems to me, three distinct policies which may be deliberately -pursued, for the securing of the predominance of public or social -motives over egoistic motives. First, we may aim at building up group -life on the foundation of a system of discipline which will result in -more or less complete suppression of the egoistic tendencies of -individuals, the building up in them of habits of unquestioning -obedience to authority. I imagine that the Jesuit system of education -might fairly be taken as the most successful and thorough-going -application of this principle. The organisation of an army of unwilling -conscripts to fight for a foreign power must rest on the same basis. -Some group spirit no doubt will generally grow up. But, though wonderful -results have been obtained in this way, the system has two great -weaknesses. First, it seeks to repress and destroy more than half of the -powerful forces that move men to action--namely, the egoistic motives in -general--instead of making use of them, directing them to social ends. -Secondly, it necessarily crushes individuality and therefore all -capacity of progress and further development in various directions; it -results in a rigidly conservative system without possibility of -spontaneous development. - -The second system is that which aims at developing in all members of the -state or inclusive group a sentiment of devotion to the whole, while -suppressing the growth of sentiments for any minor groups within the -whole. This was the system of Plato's _Republic_ and is essentially the -collectivist ideal. It is the policy of those who would suppress all -sentimental groupings, all local loyalties and patriotisms, in favour of -the ideal of the brotherhood of man, the cosmopolitan ideal. I have -already pointed out one great weakness of this plan,--namely, that this -sentiment for the all-inclusive group cannot be effectively developed -save by way of development of the minor group sentiments. And, though it -may succeed with some persons, there will always be many who cannot -grasp the idea of the larger whole sufficiently firmly and intelligently -to make it the object of any strong and enlightened sentiment of -attachment; such persons will be left on the purely egoistic level, -whereas their energies might have been effectively socialised by the -development of some less inclusive group consciousness. - -Again, the smaller group is apt to call out a man's energies more -effectively, because he can see and foresee more clearly the effects of -his own actions on its behalf. Whereas the larger the group, the more -are the efforts of individuals and their effects obscured and lost to -view in vast movements of the collective life. That is to say, the -smaller groups harmonise more effectively than the larger groups the -purely egoistic and the altruistic motives (except of course in the case -of those few persons who can play leading parts in the life of the -larger group). For, though a man may be moved by his devotion to the -group to work for its welfare, he will work still more energetically if, -at the same time, he is able to achieve personal distinction and -acknowledgment, if the purely egoistic motives can also find -satisfaction in his activities. Hence this second policy also, no matter -how successful, fails to make the most of men, fails to bring to the -fullest exercise all their powers in a manner that will promote the -welfare of the whole. Thirdly, this system loses the advantages of the -healthy rivalry between groups within the whole; which rivalry is a -means to a great liberation of human energies. These are the weaknesses -of the over-centralised state, such as modern France or the Roman -Empire. - -Only the third policy can liberate and harmonise the energies of men to -the fullest extent; namely, that which aims at developing in each -individual a hierarchy of group sentiments in accordance with the -natural course of development. - -One other virtue of the group spirit must be mentioned. Although it -tends to bring similar groups into keen rivalry and even into violent -conflict, the antagonism between men who are moved to conflict by the -group spirit is less bitter than that between individuals who are -brought into conflict by personal motives; for the members of each group -or party, though they may wish to frustrate or even to destroy the other -party as such, may remain benevolent towards its members individually. -And this is rendered easier by the fact that the members of each group, -recognising that their antagonists are also moved by the group spirit, -by loyalty and devotion to the group, will sympathise with and respect -their motives far more readily and fully than they would, if they -ascribed to their opponents purely egoistic motives. This recognition, -even though it be not clearly formulated, softens the conflict and -moderates the hostile feelings that opposition inevitably arouses in men -keenly pursuing any end, especially one which they hold to be a public -good; in this way it renders possible that continuance of friendly -relations between members of bitterly opposed parties which has happily -been the rule and at the same time the seeming anomaly of English public -life. - -In our older educational system, and especially in the 'public schools' -and older universities, the advantages and the importance of developing -the group spirit have long been practically recognised--'esprit de corps' -has been cultivated by the party system, by rivalry of groups within the -group; by forms, school-houses, colleges, clubs, teams, games, and by -keeping the honour and glory of the school, college, or other unit, -prominently before the minds of the scholars in many effective ways. It -is, I think, one of the gravest defects of our primary system of -education that it makes so little provision for development of this -kind; that, while it weakens the family sentiment, it provides no -effective substitute for it. Something has been done in recent years to -remedy this defect, notably the fostering of the boy-scout movement; but -every opportunity of supplying this need should be seized by those who -are responsible for the direction of educational policy. - -The importance of the group spirit may be illustrated by pointing to -those individuals and classes which are denied its benefits. The tramp, -the cosmopolitan globe-trotter, the outcast in general, whether the -detachment from group life be due to the disposition or choice of the -individual or to unfortunate circumstances, is apt to show, only too -clearly, how little man is able, standing alone, to maintain a decent -level of conduct and character. On a large scale this is illustrated by -the casteless classes in caste communities, and especially by Eurasians -of India and by other persons and classes of mixed descent, who fail to -identify themselves wholly with either of the groups from which they -derive their blood. The moral defects of persons of these classes have -often been deplored, and they have usually been attributed to the -mixture of widely different hereditary strains. There is probably some -truth in the view; but in general the moral shortcomings of persons of -these classes are chiefly due to the fact that they do not fully share -in the life of any group having old established moral traditions and -sentiments. - - -SUMMARY OF PRINCIPAL CONDITIONS OF THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE GROUP SPIRIT - -We have seen that the group spirit plays a vastly important part in -raising men above the purely animal level of conduct, in extending each -man's interests beyond the narrow circle of his own home and family, in -inspiring him to efforts for the common good, in stimulating him to -postpone his private to public ends, in enabling the common man to rise -at times, as shown by a multitude of instances during the Great War, to -lofty heights of devotion and self-sacrifice. - -The development of the group spirit consists in two essential processes, -namely, the acquisition of knowledge of the group and the formation of -some sentiment of attachment to the group as such. It is essential that -the group shall be apprehended or conceived as such by its members. -Therefore the group spirit is favoured by whatever tends to define the -group, to mark it off distinctly from other groups; by geographical -boundaries; by peculiarities of skin-colour or of physical type, of -language, or accent, of dress, custom, or habit, common to the members -of the group; that is to say, by homogeneity and distinctiveness of type -within the group. - -And, though definition of the group as such within the minds of its -members is the prime condition of the growth of the group spirit, that -spirit will be the more effective the fuller and truer is the knowledge -of the group in the minds of its members. Just as individual -self-knowledge favours self-direction and wisdom of choice, so group -self-knowledge must, if it is to be fully effective, comprise not only -the conception of the group as a whole but also the fullest possible -knowledge of the component parts and individuals and an understanding of -their relations to one another. In this respect smallness and -homogeneity of the group are obviously favourable. But knowledge of the -group, however exact and widely diffused, is of itself of no effect, if -there be not also widely diffused in the members some sentiment of -attachment to the group. The prevailing group sentiment is almost -inevitably one of attachment. There are exceptional instances in which -men are compelled to act as members of a group which they hate or -despise, notably in some cases of compulsory military service and in -convict gangs; but it must be rare that, even under such conditions, -some sense of common interest, some fellow feeling for other members in -like distressing circumstances, does not lead to the growth of some -group spirit, provided only that the group has some continuity and some -homogeneity in essentials. - -In all natural and spontaneously formed groups, the extension of the -self-regarding sentiment to the group is a normal and inevitable -process; and, like the self-regarding sentiment, the sentiment so formed -may range from an insane and incorrigible pride (as often in the case of -the family sentiment) to a decent self-respect that is perfectly -compatible with a modest attitude and with reasonable claims upon and -regard for the interests of other groups. - -The main difference between the self-regarding sentiment and the -developed group sentiment is that the latter commonly involves an -element of devotion to the group for its own sake and the sake of one's -fellow members. That is to say, the group sentiment is a synthesis of -the self-regarding and the altruistic tendencies in which they are -harmonised to mutual support and re-enforcement: the powerful egoistic -impulses being sublimated to higher ends than the promotion of the -self's welfare[41]. - -Further, the group has, or may have, a greater continuity of existence -than the individual, both in the past and in the future; and for this -reason, and because also it includes the purely altruistic tendency, the -group sentiment is capable of idealisation in a high degree and of -yielding satisfactions far more enduring and profound than the most -refined self-sentiment. - -Both knowledge of the group and the growth of the group sentiment are -greatly promoted by two processes, in the absence of which the group -spirit can attain only a very modest development. These are free -intercourse within the group and free intercourse between the group and -other groups. We shall have occasion to discuss and illustrate them in -later chapters. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -PECULIARITIES OF GROUPS OF VARIOUS TYPES - - -We have discussed the psychology of the simple crowd or unorganised -group; and taking an army as an extreme and relatively simple type of -the highly organised group, we have used it to illustrate the principal -ways in which organisation of the group modifies its collective life, -raising it in many respects high above that of the crowd. - -I propose now to discuss very briefly the peculiarities of groups of -several types. Some classification of groups seems desirable as an aid -to the discovery of the general principles of collective life and their -application to the understanding of social life in general. It seems -impossible to discover any single principle of classification. Almost -every group that enjoys a greater continuity of existence than the -simple crowd partakes in some degree of qualities common to all. But we -may distinguish the most important qualities and roughly classify groups -according to the degrees in which they exhibit them. - -Apart from crowds, which, as we have seen, may be either fortuitously -gathered or brought together by some common purpose, there are many -simple groups which, though accidental in origin (i.e. not brought -together by common purpose or interest) and remaining unorganised, yet -present in simple and rudimentary form some of the features of group -life. - -The persons seated in one compartment of a railway train during a long -journey may be entirely strangers to one another at the outset; yet, -even in the absence of conversation, they in the course of some hours -will begin to manifest some of the peculiarities of the psychological -group. To some extent they will have come to a mutual understanding and -adjustment; and, when a stranger adds himself to their company, his -entrance is felt to some extent as an intrusion which at the least -demands readjustments; he is regarded with curious and to some extent -hostile glances. If an outsider threatens to encroach on the rights of -one of the company, the others will readily combine in defence of their -member; and any little incident affecting their one common interest -(namely, punctual arrival of the train at its destination) quickly -reveals, and in doing so strengthens, the bond of common feeling. - -On a sea voyage the group spirit of the passenger ship attains a greater -development, by reason of the longer continuance of the group, its more -complete detachment and definition, the sense of greater hazard -affecting all alike, the sense of dependence on mutual courtesy and -good-will and sympathy for the comfort and enjoyment of all. Very soon -the experienced traveller, contrasting and comparing this present -company with those of previous voyages, sums up its qualities and -defects and lays his plans accordingly. And by the time that an -intermediate port is reached, where perhaps the most 'grumpy' and least -entertaining member of the company disembarks, even his departure is -felt by the rest as a loss that leaves a gap in the structure of the -group. - -Such fortuitous and ephemeral groups apart, all others may be classed in -the two great divisions of natural and artificial groups. - -The natural groups again fall into two main classes which partly -coincide,--namely, those rooted in kinship and those determined by -geographical conditions. The family is the pure example of the former; -the population of a small island, the type of the latter kind. The main -difference is that the bonds of the kinship group are purely or -predominantly mental and therefore can, and commonly do, remain -effective in spite of all spatial separation and of all lack of common -purpose or of material benefits accruing from membership in the group. - -The artificial groups may be divided into three great classes, the -purposive, the customary or traditional, and the mixed; those of the -last kind combining the purposive and the traditional characters in -various proportions. - -The purposive group is brought together and maintained by the existence -of a common purpose in the minds of all its members. It is, in respect -of efficiency, the highest type; for it is essentially self-conscious, -aware of its ends and of its own nature, and it deliberately adopts an -organisation suited to the attainment of those ends. The simplest and -purest type is the social club, a body of people who meet together to -satisfy the promptings of the gregarious instinct and to enjoy the -pleasures of group life. In the great majority of instances, the social -club adopts some form of recreation--debating, music, chess, whist, -football, tennis, cycling--the practice of which gives point and -definition to the activities of members and secures secondary -advantages. It is noteworthy that on this purely recreational plane, -clubs and societies of all sorts seek in almost all cases to enhance the -group consciousness and hence the satisfactions of group life by -entering into relations, generally relations of friendly rivalry, but -sometimes merely of affiliation and formal intercourse, with other like -groups. For not only is the group consciousness enriched and -strengthened by such intercourse; but, when the rival or communicating -groups, becoming aware of one another, become informally or, more -generally, formally allied to constitute a larger whole, the -consciousness of participation in this larger whole gratifies more fully -the gregarious impulse and enhances the sense of power and confidence in -each member of each constituent group. This seems to be the main ground -of that universal tendency to the formation of ever more inclusive -associations of clubs and societies, which, overleaping even national -boundaries and geographical and racial divisions, has produced numerous -world-wide associations. - -Another very numerous class of strictly purposive groups is to be found -in the commercial companies. In these the group spirit commonly remains -at the lowest level; for the dominant motive is individual financial -gain, and the only common bond among the shareholders is their interest -in the management of the company so far as it affects the private and -individual end of each one. Group self-knowledge, organisation, -tradition, and group sentiment are all at a minimum; accordingly the -group remains incapable of effective deliberation or action. It operates -through its board of directors and officers and, owing to its incapacity -for group action, has to rely upon the provisions of the Company Laws -for the control of their actions. - -A third large class of purposive groups are the associations formed for -the furthering of some public end. Many such groups are purely -altruistic or philanthropic; but in the majority the members hope to -share in some degree in the public benefits for the attainment of which -the group is formed. In many such associations, group life hardly rises -above the low level of the commercial company; the main difference being -that, in virtue of the 'disinterested' or public-spirited nature of the -dominant purpose, the members regard one another and their executive -officers with greater confidence and sympathy; even though remaining -personally unacquainted. Notable instances of such associations, -achieving great public ends, are 'The National Trust for the -Preservation of Places of Natural Beauty or Historic Interest,' and 'The -Public Footpaths Association.' Other associations of this kind have -something of the nature of a commercial company: e.g. 'The First Garden -City Company,' and 'The Trust Houses Company.' The peculiarity of these -is that the motive of financial gain is subordinated to, while -co-operating with, the desire for achievement of a public good, a -benefit to the whole community in which the members of the group share -in an almost inappreciable degree only. Such associations are very -characteristic of the life of this country; and it may be hoped that -their multiplication and development will prove to be one of the -ameliorating factors of the future, softening the asperities of -commercial life, correcting to some degree that narrowing of the -sympathies, and preventing that tendency to class antagonisms, which -purely commercial associations inevitably produce. The great -co-operative societies seem to have something of this character; for, -although the dominant motive of membership is probably in most cases -private advantage, yet membership brings with it some sense of -participation in a great movement for better social organisation, some -sense of loyalty to the group, some rudimentary group knowledge and -group spirit, some interest in and satisfaction in the prosperity of the -group for its own sake, over and above the strictly private interest of -each member. The introduction of various forms of profit sharing will -give something of this character to commercial companies. - -The recent investments in government loans by millions of individuals, -acting in part from patriotic motives, must have a similar tendency; and -a similar effect on a large scale must be produced by any -nationalisation of industries, a fact which is one of the weightiest -grounds for desiring such nationalisation; though it remains uncertain -whether, when the scale of the association becomes so large as to -include the whole nation, the bulk of the citizens will be able -effectively to discern the identity of their public and private -interests, and whether, therefore, such nationalisation will greatly -promote that fusion or co-operation of public and private motives which -is the essential function and merit of the group spirit. - -The most characteristic British group of the purposive type is the -association formed for some public or quasi-public end and operating -through a democratically elected committee or committees and -sub-committees. Such groups are the cradle of the representative -principle and the training ground of the democratic spirit, especially -of its deliberative and executive faculties. In them each member, taking -part in the election of the committee, delegates to them his share of -authority, but continues to exert control over them by his vote upon -reports of the committee and in the periodic re-election of its -members. On this ground the citizens are trained to understand the -working of the representative principle; to yield to the opinion of the -majority on the choice of means, without ceasing loyally to co-operate -towards the common end; to observe the necessary rules of procedure; to -abide by group decisions; to influence group opinion in debate, and in -turn to be influenced by it and respect it; to differ without enmity; to -keep the common end in view, in spite of the inevitable working of -private and personal motives; to understand the necessity for -delegation, and to respect the organisation through which alone the -group raises itself above the level of the crowd. - -Traditional groups of pure or nearly pure character are relatively -infrequent. Perhaps the castes of the Hindu world are, of all large -groups, those which most nearly approach the pure type. Traditional -grouping is characteristic of stagnant old established populations, of -which it is the basis of organisation and principal cement. No doubt in -almost every case the formation of the traditional group was in some -degree purposive; but the original purpose has generally been lost sight -of; myths and legends have grown up to explain the origin of and give a -fictitious purpose or 'raison d'etre' to the group. In the absence of -any definite practical purpose animating the group and holding it -together, its stability is secured and its tradition is re-enforced and -given a visible presentation by the development of ritual. Of all the -great groups among us the Free Masons perhaps afford the best -illustration of this type. - -Far more important in the British world are the groups of the mixed -type, partly traditional and partly purposive, groups having a long -history and origins shrouded in the mists of antiquity, but having some -strong and more or less definite common purpose. Of such groups the -Christian Church is the greatest example. In the Roman Church, whose -history has been so little interrupted, tradition attains its fullest -power, and the regard for the past is strengthened and supplemented by -the prospect of an indefinitely prolonged future directed towards the -same ends. Its organisation has grown gradually under the one continued -overshadowing purpose, every addition becoming embodied and established -in the great tradition, the strength of which is perpetually maintained -by ritual. And this traditional organisation is not only borne in the -minds of each generation of members of the Church, but, in an ever -increasing degree, has embodied itself in a material system of stone and -glass and metal and printed words; these constitute a visible and -enduring presentment which, though entirely disconnected and -heterogeneous in a merely material sense, yet provides fixed points in -the whole organisation, contributing immensely to its stability, and -aiding greatly in bringing home to the minds of its members the unity of -the whole group in the past, the present, and the future. Many groups or -sects having the same essential purpose as the Roman Church have aimed -to establish a tradition without the aid of such material embodiments: -but their ephemeral histories illustrate the wisdom of the mother Church -which, in building up her vast organisation, has recognised the -limitations and the frailties of the human mind and has not scorned to -adapt herself to them in order to overcome them. - -On a smaller scale our ancient universities and their colleges -illustrate the same great type of the partly traditional partly -purposive group, and the same great principles of collective -life,--namely, the stability derived from the continuity of tradition, -from its careful culture, and its partial embodiment in ritual and -material structure. - -An essential weakness of all such groups in a progressive community is -that tradition tends to overshadow purpose; hence every such group tends -towards the rigidity and relative futility of the purely traditional -group. Its organisation tends to set so rigidly that it is incapable of -adapting itself to the changing needs of the present and the future; the -maintenance of tradition, which is but a means towards the acknowledged -end, becomes an end in itself to which the primary purpose of the whole -is in danger of being subordinated. - -The churches and the universities alike illustrate vividly the -principles of a group within a group. Each of the older universities is -a microcosm, a small model of the national life, and largely to this -fact is due its educational value as a place of residence. Each college -evokes a strong group spirit in all its members; and this sentiment for -the college, though it may and does in some minor matters conflict with -the sentiment for the university, is in the main synthesised within -this, and indeed is the chief factor in the strength of that sentiment. - -The group spirit of each college owes much of its strength to the -carefully fostered, but perfectly friendly, rivalry between the several -colleges in sports and studies and other activities. The close -companionship and emulation between a number of small communities of -similar constitution and purpose, each having a long and distinct -tradition as well as a clearly defined material habitat which embodies -and symbolises its traditions in a thousand different ways, has raised -the self-knowledge and sentiment of the groups to a high level. It is -well known that the few years spent in one of the colleges develops in -every member (with few exceptions) a sentiment of attachment that -persists through life and extends itself in some degree to every other -member, past, present and future; so that, in whatever part of the world -and under whatever circumstances two such men may meet, the discovery of -their common membership of the college at once throws them into a -friendly attitude towards each other and prepares each to make -disinterested efforts on behalf of the other. - -The same is true in a less degree of the universities themselves. Oxford -and Cambridge have, partly in consequence of their proximity and close -intercourse, developed on closely parallel lines. They are therefore so -similar in constitution and aims as to be keen though friendly rivals. -This has been of great benefit to both, the self-knowledge and group -sentiment of each having been greatly promoted by this close -intercourse, rivalry, and reciprocal criticism. And this rivalry has not -prevented the growth of some sentiment for the larger group constituted -by the members of both universities, each of whom is always ready to -defend the common interests of the larger group against the rest of the -world. - -Again, within each college there are numerous smaller groups, each with -its traditions and group spirit; and, so long as these groups do not -become too exclusive, do not absorb all the devotion of their members, -but leave each one free to join in the life of other minor groups, their -influence is good, the group spirit of each such minor group -contributing to the strength of the larger group sentiment and enriching -the spiritual life of the whole. - -In the middle ages occupational groups were of great importance and -influence. They were of the mixed type, for most of them, though -essentially purposive, developed strong traditions; and in their remote -origins many of them were perhaps rather natural than artificial -formations. The violent changes of industrial life, the development of -the capitalist system and modern industrialism, dislocated and largely -destroyed these occupational groups to the great detriment of social -well-being. At the present time we see a strong tendency to the growth -of occupational groups of the purely purposive type, which, lacking the -guidance and conservative power of old traditions, and depending for -their strength largely upon the identification of the material interests -of each member with those of the group, show a narrowness of outlook, a -lack of stability and internal cohesion, and a tendency to ignore the -place and function of the group in the whole community. They show, in -short, a lack of the enlightened group spirit which only time, with -increasing experience and understanding of the nature and functions of -group life, can remedy. It may be hoped that with improved internal -organisation, with the growth of more insight into the mutual dependence -of the various groups on one another and on the whole community, these -groups, which at present seem to some observers to threaten to destroy -our society and to replace the rivalry of nations by an even more -dangerous rivalry of vast occupational groups, may become organised -within the structure of the whole and play a part of the greatest value -in the national life. - - - - -PART II - -THE NATIONAL MIND AND CHARACTER - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -INTRODUCTORY - -WHAT IS A NATION? - - -Having studied the most general principles of the collective mental -life, as exemplified in the two extreme forms of the unorganised crowd -and the highly organised army, having briefly noted the principal -classes of groups that enjoy a collective mental life, and having -examined the nature and function of the group spirit in the organisation -of the group mind, we may now take up the study of the most interesting, -most complex and most important kind of group mind, namely the mind of a -nation-state[42]. - -Many attempts have been made to define more exactly the popular notion -of a nation. The word has sometimes been applied to large groups of -primitive folk that show evidence of close racial affinity and -similarity of customs, such as the Iroquois tribes of North America, or -the Hun invaders of medieval Europe. In popular usage the word is more -commonly restricted to the great nation-states of modern times. It must -be recognised that, since human societies of present and past times -present every conceivable variety of composition and structure, it is -impracticable to lay down any strict definition and to classify -populations as falling definitely within or outside the class. - -But, though we may not hope to lay down a definition which shall clearly -mark off the nation from all other human groups, we may usefully define -the nation-state or nation in the most highly developed form that it has -yet attained, and recognise that various peoples partake of the nature -of, or approach the type of, the nation in so far as they exhibit -something of its essential character. - -It is perhaps hardly necessary to point out that it is only in the -nation-state, or nation in the fullest sense of the word, that the state -becomes identical with the nation, and that this identification has only -been achieved in modern history by the growth among a few peoples of -representative institutions and the democratic spirit. - -In the work mentioned above Prof. Ramsay Muir writes--"What do we mean by -a Nation? It is obviously not the same thing as a race, and not the same -thing as a state. It may be provisionally defined as a body of people -who feel themselves to be naturally linked together by certain -affinities which are so strong and real for them that they can live -happily together, are dissatisfied when disunited, and cannot tolerate -subjection to peoples who do not share these ties[43]." The provisional -definition has the merit of recognising that nationhood is essentially a -mental condition and must be defined in psychological terms. The author -goes on to inquire--"What are the ties of affinity which are necessary to -constitute a nation?" He then considers the following conditions: (1) -"occupation of a defined geographical area," (2) "unity of race," (3) -"unity of language," (4) "unity of religion," (5) "common subjection, -during a long stretch of time, to a firm and systematic government," (6) -"community of economic interest, with the similarity of occupations and -outlook which it brings," (7) "the possession of a common tradition, a -memory of sufferings endured and victories won in common, expressed in -song and legend, in the dear names of great personalities that seem to -embody in themselves the character and ideals of the nation, in the -names also of sacred places wherein the national memory is enshrined." -Of the last he says that it is "the most potent of all nation-moulding -factors, the one indispensable factor"; thus showing his sense of the -essentially psychological nature of nationhood. But of all the other six -'factors' enumerated, he shows that they are unessential. After reaching -this negative conclusion, that nationhood cannot be defined by any one -of these marks or factors, he writes: "Nationality, then, is an elusive -idea, difficult to define. It cannot be tested or analysed by formulae, -such as German professors love. Least of all must it be interpreted by -the brutal and childish doctrine of racialism. Its essence is a -sentiment, and in the last resort we can only say that a nation is a -nation because its members passionately and unanimously believe it to be -so. But they can only believe it to be so if there exist among them real -and strong affinities; if they are not divided by any artificially -maintained separation between the mixed races from which they are -sprung; if they share a common basis of fundamental moral ideas, such as -are most easily implanted by common religious beliefs; if they can glory -in a common inheritance of tradition; and their nationality will be all -the stronger if to these sources of unity they add a common language and -literature and a common body of law. If these ties, or the majority of -them, are lacking, the assertion of nationality cannot be made good. -For, even if it be for the moment shared by the whole people, as soon as -they begin to try to enjoy the freedom and unity which they claim in the -name of nationality, they will fall asunder, and their freedom will be -their ruin." In the last sentence the author clearly shows that the -conclusion at which he seemed to have arrived, namely that "a nation is -a nation because its members passionately and unanimously believe it to -be so," is untenable. At the present time there are populations claiming -the rights of nationality just upon this fallacious ground; a fact which -illustrates the importance of achieving some satisfactory definition of -nationhood. Indeed at the present moment, when Europe is being remoulded -by the Paris Conference, the need for clear notions and some working -definition of nationhood has acquired a most urgent importance. For, as -our author remarks, "we say, loosely, that every nation has a _right_ to -freedom and unity," and the principle of "self-determination of nations" -has become almost universally accepted as a kind of moral axiom of -political justice; and this axiom is being applied to determine the -political boundaries of the world now and for all time. Yet how can we -hope to make a proper use of this principle, if we cannot define a -nation, if a modern historian, who has devoted himself to the study of -nationality, finds himself compelled in the year 1917 to give up the -attempt to define the meaning of the term nation? For that is the issue -of Prof. Ramsay Muir's interesting discussion. "We have not attained," -he confesses, "in this discussion any very clear definition of -nationality, or any very satisfactory test of the validity of the claims -put forward for national freedom. We are not to base the doctrine of -nationality upon abstract rights. We must recognise that there is no -single infallible test of what constitutes a nation, unless it be the -peoples' own conviction of their nationhood, and even this may be -mistaken or based upon inadequate grounds[44]." And the dire -consequences of this failure are made clear on the following page--"There -seems no escape from the conclusion that nationhood must mainly -determine itself by conflict. That conclusion appears to be the moral of -the history of the national idea in Europe." Which is as much as to say -that, when any population declares itself to be a nation and claims the -rights of nationhood, the Statesmen of the Paris Conference are to -reply--"We do not know whether your claim is well-founded; for the -historians and political philosophers cannot tell us the meaning of the -word 'nation.' Go to and fight, and, if you survive, we shall recognise -the 'fait accompli' and hail you a Nation." - -I have dwelt at some length on this perplexity of the historian, -grappling with the task of defining nationhood, because it illustrates -so well a fact on which I wish to insist--namely, that it is not -sufficient for the historian and the political philosopher to be willing -to recognise the mental factors in the phenomena with which he deals. It -is necessary to recognise that these factors are of overwhelming -importance, and that they cannot be satisfactorily dealt with by aid of -the obscure and confused psychological concepts of popular thought and -speech. We must recognise these political problems for what they truly -are--namely, psychological through and through, and only to be attacked -with some hope of success if we call to our aid all that psychological -science can give us. This conclusion cannot fail to be unpalatable to -very many workers in this field; for it implies that equipment for such -work demands some additional years of preparatory study. But, it may -fairly be asked, if the medical man must devote six years to the -intensive study of the human body, before he is permitted to practise -upon it, and even then without any scientific knowledge of the human -mind, should not he who would practise upon the body politic, in which -not merely the bodies but the minds of men interact in the most subtle -and complex fashion, prepare himself for his exalted task by an even -more extended course of study? - -Prof. Ramsay Muir has the merit of recognising the essentially -psychological nature of his problem; for his provisional definition -(cited above) is wholly psychological, and he tells us that the essence -of nationality is a sentiment; but he reveals the inadequacy of his -psychological equipment by telling us in the same paragraph that its -essence is a belief, the belief that they are a nation, passionately and -unanimously held by the members of some group. If we look again at the -list of seven proposed marks of nationhood, we shall see that they are -rather of the nature of conditions favourable to the growth of -nationhood; and, as we shall find, this list may be considerably -enlarged. He comes nearest to the truth perhaps when he says "its -essence is a sentiment." But he does not attempt to tell us what is the -nature of this sentiment, nor even what is its object. - -We may imagine a group of people of considerable magnitude, say the -Mormons, or the Doukhobors, the Swedenborgians, or the Christian -Scientists, withdrawing themselves to some defined territory, in order -to form themselves into a nation; then, although each of the seven -conditions enumerated by Prof. Ramsay Muir might be realised, and even -though the community possessed the two conditions described by him as -the essence of nationality--namely, a strong sentiment (presumably one of -loyalty to the group) and a passionate belief in its nationality--it -would, in the absence of other essential conditions, lamentably fall -short of being a nation and would suffer the fate indicated; namely "as -soon as they begin to try to enjoy the freedom and unity which they -claim in the name of nationality, they will fall asunder, and their -freedom will be their ruin[45]." - -What, then, is the essential condition for lack of which any such people -would fall short of nationhood? What is the factor which has escaped the -analysis of Prof. Ramsay Muir? The answer must be--organisation; not -material organisation, but such mental organisation as will render the -group capable of effective group life, of collective deliberation and -collective volition. The answer to the riddle of the definition of -nationhood is to be found in the conception of the group mind. A nation, -we must say, is a people or population enjoying some degree of political -independence and possessed of a national mind and character, and -therefore capable of national deliberation and national volition. In -this and the succeeding chapters we have to examine the nature of such -national mind and character, to give fuller meaning to these vague -popular terms, and to study the way in which various conditions of -national life contribute to their development. - -Nationhood is, then, essentially a psychological conception. To -investigate the nature of national mind and character and to examine the -conditions that render possible the formation of the national mind and -tend to consolidate national character, these are the crowning tasks of -psychology. - -Let me remind the reader at this point of the general sense of the words -mind and character. The two words really cover the same content; when we -speak of the individual mind or character, we mean the organised system -of mental or psychical forces which expresses itself in the behaviour -and the consciousness of the individual man. Any such organised system -has two aspects or sides which, though intimately related, maybe -considered abstractly as distinct--namely, the intellectual or cognitive -aspect and the volitional, conative, or affective aspect. When we use -the word 'mind' in speaking of any such system, we give prominence to -its intellectual side; when we say 'character' we draw attention to its -conative or affective side. The group mind of a nation is a mind in the -sense that, like the mind of the individual, it is an organised system -of mental or psychical forces; and, like the individual mind, it also -has its intellectual and its affective sides or aspects. And this -remains true whether or no there be any truth in that notion of the -'collective consciousness' as a synthesis of minor consciousnesses which -we have provisionally rejected[46]; that is to say, we accept -unreservedly the notion of the collective mind, while suspending -judgment upon the notion of 'collective consciousness,' until we shall -find that this hypothesis is, or is not, required for the interpretation -of the facts. - -It will be observed that we are getting far away from the old-fashioned -conception of psychology which limited its province to the introspective -description of the contents of the individual's consciousness. The wider -conception of the science gives it new tasks and new branches, of which -the study of the national mind is one. Like the main trunk of psychology -and most of its branches, this branch has to become an empirical science -which shall take the place of what has long been regarded as a branch of -speculative philosophy and pursued by the deductive _a priori_ methods -of philosophy. In this case the branch of philosophy in question has -generally been called the Philosophy of History. It has been well said -by Fouillee that the Philosophy of History of the past is related to the -psychological social science, that is now beginning to take shape, as -alchemy was related to chemistry, or astrology to astronomy. That is to -say, it was a realm of obscure and fanciful ideas, of sweeping and -ill-based assumptions and slipshod reasoning. It was an elaborate -attempt "to lay the intellect to rest on a pillow of obscure ideas." -The task of scientific analysis and research was avoided by bringing in, -as the main explanatory principles or causal agencies, vaguely conceived -entities regarded as presiding over the development of peoples--such -entities as Providence, or the Destiny of nations, the _Genius_ of a -people, or the Instinct of a nation, the Unconscious Soul of a people, -or the Spirit of the Age; and, when the problem was to account for some -great secular change, for example, some change of national character, -nothing was commoner than to appeal to _Time_ itself, and thus to make -of this most empty of all abstractions a directive agency and an all -powerful cause of change. The strictly national gods of various nations -were popular conceptions of this order; the gods who directly intervened -in battles and enabled their chosen peoples to smite their enemies hip -and thigh so that not one was left alive. Of this class the "good old -German god" of the late German emperor was, it may be hoped, the last -example. - -In a less crude form similar hypotheses of direct supernatural -intervention have been seriously maintained in modern times. Thus the -poet Schiller argued as follows--"The individuals of whom a nation is -composed are dominated by egoism, each seeking only his own good, yet -their actions somehow secure the good of the whole; hence we must -believe that the history of a people unrolls itself beneath the glance -of a wisdom that looks on from afar, that knows how to control the -ill-regulated caprices of liberty by the laws of a directing necessity -and to make the particular ends pursued by individuals subservient to -the unconscious realisation of a general plan." - -In estimating the claims to consideration of a doctrine of this sort, we -must put aside its deleterious moral effects, the fact that its -acceptance would necessarily tend to weaken our sense of responsibility, -to paralyse altruistic effort, and to justify purely egoistic conduct. -We have to consider only its truth or probability in the light of -history. When we do that, it appears merely as a fictitious solution of -the larger problems of social science, a solution which may relieve us -of the necessity of intellectual effort, but which brings no -enlightenment and is supported by no serious argument. The one argument -advanced is a libel on human nature; for it denies the reality and -efficacy of the disinterested social efforts of the leaders of humanity, -to which its progress has been in the main due; and it ignores the great -mass of human activity due to the group spirit with its fusion of -egoistic and altruistic motives. Further, it ignores the fact that the -history of the world is not merely the history of the rise of nations, -but rather of the perpetual rise and _fall_ of nations. When we are told -that a power of this sort has constantly intervened in the course of -history, and that the rise of peoples has been due to its guidance, we -may fairly ask--Why has it repeatedly withdrawn its support, just when -civilisation has achieved such a degree of development as might have -rendered possible the flowering of all the finer capacities of human -nature and the alleviation of the hard lot of the great mass of men? If -the contemplation of the course of history compelled us to believe that -such a power intervenes, we should certainly have to regard it as a -malign power that delights in mocking human efforts by first encouraging -and then bringing them to naught. - -Very similar is the role in history assigned by von Hartmann to his -'Unconscious.' "It carries away the peoples that it dominates," says von -Hartmann, "with a demoniac power towards unknown ends; it teaches them -the way that they must take; though they often believe themselves to be -marching towards a goal very different from that to which they are being -conducted." - -Others maintain that the great men of a nation, who are the principal -agents in moulding its destiny, are in some mystical sense the products -and expressions of the 'unconscious soul' of the people, that they are -the means by which its ideas are realised, through which they become -effective; and they usually make the assertion, altogether unwarranted -by history, that the moment of great need in the life of a people always -produces a great man or hero to lead the people through the crisis. That -is, or may appear to be, true of those peoples that have survived to -pass into history. But what of those peoples that have gone down, -leaving no trace of all their strivings, beyond some mounds of rubble, -some few material monuments, or some strange marks on brick or stone or -rock? - -All such assumptions are the very negation of science. We have no right -to appeal to such obscure and mystical powers, until by prolonged effort -we shall have exhausted the possibilities of understanding and -explanation in terms of known forces and conditions[47]. - -On the other hand, a number of writers have sought to interpret the -course of history and the rise and fall of nations in a more scientific -manner; but most of these have studied some one aspect of national life, -and have professed to find in that one aspect the key which shall -unlock all doors and solve all problems. Thus some, adopting the notion -of a variety of human races, each endowed with a certain peculiar and -unalterable combination of qualities, seek to explain all history by the -aid of biological laws, especially the Darwinian principles, as a -struggle for survival between individuals and between races. Others, -like Karl Marx and Guizot, see in economic conditions and the struggles -between the social classes within each nation, the all important -factors. Others again, like Montesquieu and to some extent Buckle and -more recently Matteuzzi, have seen in the influences of physical -environment the key to the understanding of differences of national -character and history; while others profess to have found it in -differences of religious system, or of the forms of government and -systems of laws. Others again, like le Bon[48], in a few dominant ideas -which, they say, being possessed by any nation (or possessing a nation) -determine its character and civilisation. All these are exaggerations of -partial truths; and in opposition to all of them it must be laid down -that the understanding of the _mind_ of a nation is an indispensable -foundation for the interpretation of its history. - -Just as there are two kinds of psychology of individuals, so there are -two kinds of psychology of peoples. There is the individual psychology -which is primarily descriptive, which is the biography of persons, and -whose aim is to impart an accurate conception of the general tendencies -of a person and of the course of his development. And there is the -psychology whose aim is to explain in general terms the conduct of -individual men in general by the aid of conceptions and laws of general -validity. The former, of course, was developed much earlier than the -latter, which is in the main of quite modern growth. As this explanatory -psychology develops, its principles begin to find application in the -sphere of biographical or individual psychology, raising it also to the -explanatory plane. - -Just so there are two parallel kinds of psychology of peoples. There is -the descriptive psychology of the tendencies of particular peoples, the -biography of nations and peoples, which is what commonly is meant by -'history'; and there is the psychology which seeks to explain in general -terms how these tendencies arise, which seeks the general laws of which -these diverse national tendencies are the outcome. - -This last is the modern science which is beginning to take shape and to -undertake the task so inadequately dealt with by the so-called -Philosophy of History. It is essentially a branch, and by far the most -important part, of Group Psychology[49]. Now individual psychology tends -more and more to be a genetic psychology; because we do not feel that we -really understand the individual mind, until we know how it has come to -be what it is, until we know something of its development and racial -evolution. Just so the explanatory psychology of peoples must be a -genetic psychology. Here it differs from individual psychology in that -the distinction between individual development and racial evolution -disappears. For the national mind is a continuous growth; it is not -embodied in a temporal succession of individuals, but in a single -continuously evolving organism. - -Nevertheless, we may with advantage consider separately (1) the nature -of the general conditions necessary to the existence and operation of a -national mind; (2) the processes of evolution by which such minds are -formed and their peculiarities acquired. I propose to take up the former -problem in the following chapter. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -THE MIND OF A NATION - - -We have prepared ourselves for the study of the national mind by our -preliminary examination of the two extreme types of collective mental -life, that of the quite unorganised group, the simple crowd, on the one -hand, that of a very highly organised group, the army, on the other -hand. We have seen that in the former type the collective actions imply -a collective mental life much inferior, both intellectually and morally, -to that of the average component individuals; and that in the other type -they imply a collective mental life and capacities much superior to -those of the average individual. - -The mind of any nation occupies some intermediate position in the scale -of which these are the extreme types; and it differs from both in being -immensely more complex, and also in that the influence of the past -dominates and determines to a much greater extent the mental life of the -present. - -The study we have already made of collective mental life will enable us -to understand what we mean, or ought to mean, when we speak of national -character. There are two senses in which this phrase is used, and they -are often confused. On the one hand, the phrase may be used to denote -the character of individuals who are taken to be typical representatives -or average specimens of their nations. On the other hand, it may be -taken to mean the character of the nation as a collective whole or mind. -These two things are by no means the same; they are rather very -different. We saw that this was true in the case of the crowd and also -of the army; and it is true in a still higher degree of the nation than -of any other social aggregate, just because the influence of its past -over its present is greater than in any of the others. It is in the -second and preferable sense that Fouillee uses this expression. He -writes--"The national character is not the simple sum of the individual -characters. In the bosom of a strongly organised nation, there are -necessarily produced reciprocal actions between the individuals which -issue in a general manner of feeling, thinking and willing very -different from that of the individuals existing in isolation, or even -from the sum or resultant of all the mental actions of isolated -individuals. The national character is not simply the average type -which one would obtain if one could imitate for minds the procedure -adopted by Galton in the case of faces and so obtain a collective or -generic image. The face which the process of compound photography -produces exerts no action and is not a cause; while the national spirit -does exert an effect which is different from all effects of individual -minds; it is capable of exerting a sort of pressure and a constraint -upon the individuals themselves; it is not only an effect, but is also -in turn a cause; it is not only fashioned by individuals, it fashions -them in turn. The average type of the Frenchman existing to-day, for -example, does not adequately represent the French national character, -because each people has a history, and ancient traditions, and is -composed, as it is said, of the dead even more than of the living. The -French national character resumes the physical and social actions that -have been taking place through centuries, independently of the present -generation, and imposes itself upon this generation through all the -national ideas, the national sentiments and national institutions. It is -the weight of the entire history to which the individual is subjected in -his relations with his fellow citizens. Just, then, as the nation, as a -certain social group, has an existence different from (though not -separable from) the existence of the individuals, so the national -character implies that particular combination of mental forces of which -the national life is the external manifestation[50]." That is a precise -and admirable statement of what we are to understand by national mind -and character. - -We must now consider in turn the principal conditions of the existence -of highly developed national mind and character, and first those which, -as we have seen, are essential to all collective mental life. - -A certain degree of mental homogeneity of the group, some similarity of -mental constitution of the individuals composing it, is the prime -condition. The homogeneity essential to a nation may be one of two -kinds, native or acquired; both of these are usually combined, but one -of them predominates in some nations, the other in others. - -In considering racial or native homogeneity, we touch upon one aspect of -a much disputed question, the influence of race on national character -and history, in regard to which the greatest diversity of opinion has -prevailed and still prevails. A correct estimate of this influence is of -fundamental importance. I have stated elsewhere the view I take[51], -but we must consider the question more fully here. On the one hand are -those who would explain all differences of national character and -action, all success and failure of nations, as arising from racial -composition. This view is the basis of much of the ill-founded national -pessimism which, before the Great War, was widely prevalent among the -peoples who speak the Romance or Latin languages and who are falsely -called by these pessimists the Latin races. It was also the foundation -of that overweening national pride which has corrupted the German people -and led them to disgrace and disaster; for, following Gobineau[52] and a -host of his disciples, among whom H. S. Chamberlain is perhaps the most -notorious, they had come to believe, against the most obvious and -abundant evidence, that they were the purest representatives of a race -from whose blood all great men and all good things have come, a race -fitted by native superiority to rule all the peoples of the earth[53]. - -On the other hand, popular humanitarianism would regard all men and all -races as alike and equal in respect of native endowment; and we have -seen so distinguished a sociologist as Durkheim denying any importance -or influence to racial composition of a people. Many others put aside -all explanations based on racial differences as cheap and meretricious -means of avoiding difficulties. J. S. Mill, for example, wrote "Of all -vulgar modes of escaping from the consideration of the effect of social -and moral influences on the human mind, the most vulgar is that of -attributing the diversities of conduct and character to inherent natural -differences"; and Buckle, in his great work on the _History of -Civilisation_, quoted this remark with cordial approval[54]. - -Both these extreme views are false; the truth lies somewhere in the -midst between them. At the time when Mill and Buckle wrote, biology and -anthropology had not shown, as now they have, the enormous power of -heredity in determining individual character and the great persistence -of innate qualities through numberless generations. Buckle especially -overrated the power of physical environment, and Mill the power of -education and of social environment, to change the innate qualities of a -people; and it was this overestimation that led them, and leads others -still, to underestimate the importance of racial composition. There are -involved in this dispute two theses which are often confused together. -When people speak of the influence of 'race' on national character and -institutions, they may, and sometimes do, mean by 'race' the sum of -innate inborn qualities or tendencies of the people at any given point -of history. On the other hand, by influence of race they may mean the -influence of the prehistoric races which have entered into the social -composition of the nation--that is, those races from which its population -is descended. Some authors mean to deny importance to race in both these -senses; Buckle and Mill and Durkheim meant, I think, to deny it in both, -because they believed that human nature is very plastic and easily -moulded as regards its innate qualities by its environment; they -believed that, if only a system of institutions, especially educational -institutions, adapted to promote the intellectual and moral development -of each generation of a people, can be established among it, then the -influence of such institutions will so vastly predominate over that of -innate qualities that these become a negligible quantity. From this it -would follow that we should expect to see any two or more populations -endowed with similar institutions form nations of similar character -which will continue to develop along similar lines, except in so far as -minor unessential differences of physical environment produce -differences of modes of occupation, dress, food and so forth. - -This view of the insignificance of innate qualities was in harmony with, -and was determined by, the dominant psychological doctrine of the time; -the view which came down from Locke, according to which the mind of the -new-born individual is a _tabula rasa_, entirely similar in all men, -without specific tendencies and peculiarities of any importance, on -which individual experience impresses itself, moulding all its -development according to the principle of the association of ideas. - -This doctrine, explicitly or implicitly adopted, has played a great part -in determining British policy in its relations with British dependencies -and their populations, notably India. It is a striking example of the -way in which theory affects practice, and of the danger of our profound -indifference to theory; we are influenced by it though we pretend to -ignore it. It is well to make ourselves clear as to what theories we -hold, even if we do not allow our practice to be governed by them -exclusively. - -There are commonly confused together, under the head of the influence -of race on national character, three problems which must be -disentangled. - -(1) Are there differences of innate mental constitution between the -various branches of mankind? - -(2) If there are such differences, are these important for national -life? Do they in any considerable degree determine national character? -Or are they capable of being swamped and submerged and altogether -over-ridden by the moulding influences brought to bear by environment on -each generation? - -(3) If such innate differences exist, what degree of permanence do they -possess? Do they persist through thousands of years, in spite of vast -changes of physical or cultural conditions? Or may they undergo -considerable modification or complete transformation in the course of a -few generations? - -These are questions of fundamental importance. And they admit of no -positive clean-cut answers at the present time. They offer vast fields -for research, and only when prolonged research shall have been directed -to them shall we be able to answer them positively. - -In the past, since their importance could not be altogether overlooked, -it has been usual to dispose of them by dogmatically asserting one -extreme view and pouring scornful epithets upon the other extreme view. -A principal task for science in its present stage is to define the -questions clearly. It is not possible, perhaps, to keep them quite -separate; for, if there are considerable differences of innate mental -constitution, then their importance for national character must depend -greatly upon their degree of permanence; and, again, there is the great -difficulty of distinguishing between innate and acquired mental -qualities in any individual and still more in groups. - -Nevertheless, we may safely say that both extreme views in regard to -race, the positive and the negative, are gross exaggerations, plausible -only while we ignore one part of the evidence; the truth lies in between -somewhere. - -There can, I think, be no reasonable doubt that there are great -differences between races, and that these may be, and in many cases have -been, persistent through thousands of generations. - -The recognition that the mind of the human infant is not a _tabula -rasa_, but that its innate constitution comprises a number of instincts, -specifically directed tendencies to thought, feeling, and action, -prepares us to accept this view and gives us some basis for the -definition of these differences. Whether all differences can be defined -in such terms is a further problem. That they cannot be wholly defined -in this way seems to be obvious, when we consider how quite specialised -idiosyncrasies are transmitted in families through several generations, -often with a leap across one generation, peculiarities of taste and -feeling, of aesthetic endowment and temperament, abilities such as the -musical, mathematical and artistic. - -When we compare widely different peoples such as the Negro, the White, -and the Yellow, the fact of profound differences cannot be overlooked. -These differences cannot be ascribed to the action of environment upon -each generation. Perhaps the only differences of this kind which at -present are accurately measurable are those of the size and form of the -brain. The negro brain is decidedly smaller than that of the white and -yellow races. And there are small but distinct differences of sensory -endowment which are highly significant. For, if there are racial -differences in these most fundamental and racially oldest endowments, we -may expect still greater differences in the later evolved powers of the -mind; although these are much more difficult to detect and define. - -Still, the negro race wherever found does present certain specific -mental peculiarities roughly definable, especially the happy-go-lucky -disposition, the unrestrained emotional violence and responsiveness, -whether its representatives are found in tropic Africa, in the jungles -of Papua, or in the highly civilised conditions of American cities. - -The Semitic stock again is one which, though widely scattered, seems to -present certain constant peculiarities. And among closely allied -branches of the white race of similar culture, we can hardly refuse to -recognise innate differences. Differences of temperament are, perhaps, -the clearest and the most generally recognised, even between peoples of -allied stock and similar civilisation. Who can question that Irishmen in -general are very different from Englishmen in temperament, that they are -less phlegmatic, more easily moved to joy, or sorrow, or enthusiasm, -more easily touched by poetry, have a more varied and lively emotional -experience? That this is an innate racial difference seems clear; for it -can be accounted for in no other way, and it obtains in some degree -between all communities of similar racial stocks, in spite of -similarities or differences of history and of present conditions. For -example, similar differences, roughly definable as the difference -between the so-called Celtic temperament and the Anglo-Saxon, seem -evidently to obtain between the Breton and the Norman, who represent in -the main the same two stocks. - -And, even in intellectual quality, there appear to be not only -differences of degree, but also differences of kind, inexplicable save -as racial differences. The logical deductive tendencies of the French -intellect and the empirical inductive tendency of the English, seem to -be rooted in race; though here of course tradition accumulates and -accentuates such differences from generation to generation. - -But the best evidence of persistent innate differences is afforded by -differences and similarities expressed in national life which cannot be -accounted for in any other way. The innate differences and peculiarities -of individuals are largely obscured by these national characteristics. -And the more highly organised the collective life of any people, the -more clearly will it express their racial qualities. - -The social environment in a developed nation is in harmony with the -individual innate tendencies, because in the main it is the natural -outcome and expression of those tendencies. For, throughout the history -of such a nation, the elements of its social environment--its customs, -beliefs, institutions, language, its culture in general--have been slowly -evolved under the steady pressure of the individual innate tendencies, -which in each succeeding generation are the same. A part of this culture -is of native origin; a part, in every European nation probably by far -the larger part, is of foreign origin, and has been acquired by the -acceptance of ideas and beliefs from without its borders, by the copying -of institutions, customs, arts, from foreign models. In both cases the -idea or custom or other cultural element only becomes embodied in the -national culture through widespread or general imitation[55]. - -In the case of elements of native origin, it is by imitation of the -individuals of original powers of thought or feeling that the element -becomes embodied in the national culture; in the case of foreign -elements, by imitation of foreign models, acceptance of foreign ideas, -through literature and personal contacts. In both cases, such general -imitation will only take place when the culture-element in question is -more or less congenial to the innate qualities of the bulk of -individuals. All other novel elements will be ignored, or will fail to -propagate themselves successfully; if they obtain a first footing, they -will fail to pass beyond the stage of fashion into that of custom. And, -when once accepted, the cultural element will usually undergo -modification in the direction of more complete harmony with the innate -tendencies; its less congenial features will be allowed to die out, its -more congenial will be accentuated from generation to generation. - -The social environment of any civilised people is, then, very largely -the result of a long continued process of selection, comparable with the -natural selection by which, according to the Darwinian theory, animal -species are evolved; a constant favouring of certain elements, a -constant rejection of others. We may in fact regard each distinctive -type of civilisation as a species, evolved largely by selection; and the -selective agency, which corresponds to and plays a part analogous to the -part of the physical environment of an animal species, is the innate -mental constitution of the people. The sum of innate qualities is the -environment of the culture-species, and it effects a selection among all -culture variations, determining the survival and further evolution of -some, the extermination of others. And, just as animal species -(especially men) modify their physical environment in course of time, -and also devise means of sheltering themselves from its selective -influence, so each national life, each species of civilisation, modifies -very gradually the innate qualities of the people and builds up -institutions which, the more firmly they are established and the more -fully they are elaborated, override and prevent the more completely the -direct influence of innate qualities on national life. - -These principles are illustrated, perhaps, most clearly by the spread -and modification of religious systems among peoples of different races. -Take the case of the Moslem religion, which has gained acceptance among -one-sixth of the population of the world in historic and in fact recent -times, and is still spreading. The leading feature of this system is its -acceptance of all that is and happens as being the will of God, the act -of an entirely arbitrary, inscrutable, and absolutely powerful -individual, before which men must simply bow without question or -criticism; it is characterised by its simplicity and its fatalism. There -seems good reason to believe that the tendency to unquestioning -obedience to authority is a strong innate tendency of most Asiatics -(except perhaps the Chinese and their relatives), far stronger than in -most individuals of European peoples; for we see it expressed in many -ways in their institutions and history, both of those who are and those -who are not Moslems[56]; and Asiatic fatalism has, in fact, become -proverbial. With the causes or origin of this innate quality we are not -now concerned; but, accepting it as a fact, we may note that it is among -Asiatics that Mohammedanism has secured the great mass of its converts; -and that in India, in spite of many minor features that are opposed to -the spirit of Hindooism, it continues to spread largely; while -Christianity makes but little progress. Buddhism on the other hand has -almost faded away, after an initial success in the country of its -origin, but has continued to gain adherents and has become the dominant -religion among the yellow peoples further east, in Burma, China, Thibet, -Japan. The Moslem religion, having been thus accepted in virtue of the -fact that its dominant tendency is in harmony with the strong innate -tendency to unquestioning submission to a supreme will, then accentuates -this tendency in all its converts, moulding their political relations to -the same type, so that all recognise one earthly regent of God; and it -has led to the almost complete suppression of any spark of the spirit of -inquiry and scepticism that might otherwise display itself among these -peoples. - -Another good illustration of the fact is afforded by the distribution of -the two great divisions of the Christian religion in Western Europe. -Among all the disputes and uncertainties of the ethnographers about the -races of Europe, one fact stands out clearly--namely, that we can -distinguish a race of northerly distribution and origin, characterised -physically by fair colour of hair and skin and eyes, by tall stature and -dolichocephaly (i.e. long shape of head) and mentally by great -independence of character, individual initiative, and tenacity of will. -Many names have been used to denote this type, but the usefulness of -most of them has been spoilt through their application to denote -linguistic groups (e.g. Indo-Germanic, Aryan), and by the false -assumption that linguistic groups are racial groups. Hence recently the -term _Homo Europaeus_, first applied by Linnaeus to this type, has come -into favour; and perhaps it is the best term to use, since this type -seems to be exclusively European. It is also called the Nordic type. - -The rest of the population of Europe, with the exception of some peoples -in the extreme north and east of partly mongoloid or yellow racial -origin, seems to be chiefly derived from two stocks. Of these, the one -type, which occupies chiefly the central regions, is most commonly -denoted by the name _Homo Alpinus_; the other, chiefly in the south, by -the name _Homo Mediterraneus_. Both are of dark or brunette complexion -and the principal physical difference between them is that the former, -_H. Alpinus_, has a short broad head (i.e. is brachycephalic) and also -is of short stature; while the latter, _H. Mediterraneus_, is -long-headed like the northern type and is perhaps taller than _H. -Alpinus_. Mentally both these differ from the northern or European type -in having less independence and initiative, a greater tendency to rely -upon and seek guidance from authority[57]. Now we find that the -distribution of the Protestant variety of Christianity coincides very -nearly with the regions in which the fair type predominates; while in -all other regions the Roman Catholic or Greek orthodox churches hold -undisputed sway. North and South Germany illustrate the point. And -Motley's account of the Netherlands shows how closely the line between -Protestant Holland and Roman Catholic Belgium coincides with the line of -racial division. We may note also that 'Celts' of Ireland and Scotland -early proved the superior strength of their religious tendencies by -sending missionaries to England. - -It would be absurd to hold that this coincidence is fortuitous. It is -clearly due to the assimilation of the form of the religious and -ecclesiastical system to the innate tendencies of the people. The -northern peoples have given the system a turn compatible with the -independence of spirit which is their leading racial quality; and among -ourselves the tendency is apt to be pushed to an anarchical extreme in -the rise of numerous small peculiar sects; this we must connect with the -fact that the English represent in greatest purity the most independent -branch of the Northern race. - -The peoples among whom the other racial elements predominate have -developed and maintained a religion of authority. And it is clear how, -this differentiation having been achieved, either form of religion -favours and accentuates in the peoples among whom it has become -established the innate tendencies that have shaped it. The religion of -authority tends, both by its general teachings and by the deliberate -efforts of its official representatives, to suppress the spirit of -independent thought and inquiry and action; the Protestant religion, -relatively at least, favours the development of the independent -tendencies of individuals. This is not to say that any individual is a -Mohammedan or a Protestant, because he belongs to this or that race; -that would be a parody of my statement. The form of each man's religious -belief is, in the vast majority of cases, determined for him by the fact -of his growing up within a community in which that form of belief -prevails. My thesis is that in the main the racial qualities of each -community have played a great part in determining which form of belief -it shall accept. If the reader will reflect how, at the time of the -Reformation, various communities hung for a time in the balance, he will -see that the innate differences we have noted may well have played the -determining role. - -The same facts are illustrated by the political life of the European -peoples. Only those among whom the northern race is predominant have -developed individualistic forms of political and social organisation. -Among the rest there appears clearly the tendency to rely upon the -supreme authority of the state and to look to it for all initiative and -guidance, a tendency to centralised and paternal administration; and -this is the same, whether the external form of the political -organisation be a monarchy or a republic. Thus France, in becoming a -republic, did not overthrow the centralised system perfected by Henry -IV, Louis XIV, Richelieu and Napoleon; for that system was congenial to -the innate qualities of the mass of the people. It is clear that the -centralised and therefore rigid system of government tends to -accentuate, among the people subjected to it, their tendency to rely on -authority and to repress individual initiative; while the other form, -such as obtains in this country and still more in the United States of -America, tends to the development of the initiative and independence of -individuals, giving them free scope and throwing them upon their own -resources. Among any people, an institution or other cultural element -that has had a history of this kind will, then, cause a great -development in the mass of individuals of just those innate or racial -tendencies of which it is itself the slowly accumulated result or -product. - -If a nation is composed from stocks not too diverse, or if the original -stocks have fused by intercrossing and have produced a fairly -homogeneous people; and if this nation has enjoyed a long period of -natural evolution undisturbed by violent influences from outside, -conquests or invasions or immigrations on a great scale; then the social -environment will have been brought in the main into harmony with the -innate qualities of the people, and it will mould the individuals of -each generation very strongly, accentuating and confirming those innate -tendencies. This for two reasons. First, the social environment will be -strongly organised and homogeneous; that is to say, the various -elements, the beliefs, customs, institutions, and arts that go to -compose it, will be in harmony with one another and of strongly marked -character; and they will be almost universally accepted by that people -as above criticism. Secondly, the institutions and customs have not to -fight against the innate tendencies of the people in the formation of -the adult minds, but co-operate harmoniously with them. - -Now, when authors dispute over the question of the influence of race in -determining the nation, they usually fail to distinguish clearly between -the direct effects and the indirect effects of racial qualities. - -Those who, like Mill, attribute to the social environment unlimited -power of moulding individuals and who regard the influence of race as -insignificant, are misled by the contemplation of such nations as we -have been considering, the class of which our own is the most notable -example, nations in which a strongly organised social environment makes -in the direction of the innate tendencies. They overlook the fact that -in any such nation the social environment, the body of institutions and -traditions, is in the main the outcome and expression of these innate -tendencies; they fail to see that the racial tendencies exert their -strongest influence on national thought and action by means of the -institutions, customs, and traditions on the growth of which they have -exerted a constant directive pressure throughout many generations. In -order to realise fully the influence of race, we must consider peoples -whose culture and much else that enters into their social environment -has been impressed upon them from without. We then see how little the -social environment can accomplish in the moulding of a people, when it -is not congenial to and in harmony with the racial tendencies. - -The modern world contains certain instructive instances, of which Hayti -is perhaps the most striking. There a circumscribed population of negro -race has had a political and social and religious organisation and the -elements of higher culture impressed upon it by Europeans, in the belief -that it would be possible to construct a social environment which would -mould the people. France, at a time of revolutionary enthusiasm for -liberty, equality, and fraternity, withdrew from the island and granted -the people self-government. The consequence has been a rapid relapse -into barbarism and savagery of the worst kinds[58]. - -It was the ignoring of the importance of race and the overestimation of -the moulding influence of culture and institutions, eloquently voiced -by Lord Macaulay, that led England eighty years ago to set out on the -task of endowing the millions of India with British culture and -institutions. The task has been pursued in a half-hearted manner only; -but already we see some of the incongruity of the results of these -efforts; and the best observers assure us that, were the task -accomplished and the reins of a representative government left in native -hands, it would be but a few years before the whole country would be -reduced to a chaotic anarchic condition no better than that in which we -found it. Others go further and assert with some plausibility that -Western culture is positively injurious to the intellect and moral -nature of Indians[59]. - -In the Philippines the Americans seem to have applied similar mistaken -ideas in a reckless fashion in the first years of their administration; -with the result that, according to some accounts, they were in a fair -way to plunge those islands into poverty and debt and chronic rebellion, -while failing to secure affection, trust, or respect for themselves. - -We must conclude, then, that innate mental constitution, and therefore -race, is of fundamental importance in determining national character, -not so much directly as indirectly; for it gives a constant bias to the -evolution of the social environment, and, through it, moulds the -individuals of each generation. It will help to make clear the influence -of innate qualities, if, by an effort of imagination, we suppose every -English child to have been exchanged at birth for an infant of some -other nation (say the French) during some fifty years. At the end of -that period the English nation would be composed of individuals of -purely French origin or blood; it would have the innate qualities of the -present French nation; and the French nation would be, in the same -sense, English. What would be the effect? Presumably things would go on -much as before for a time. There would be no sudden transformation of -our language, our laws, our religious or political institutions; and -those who make little of the influence of race might point to this -result as a convincing demonstration of the truth of their view. But -gradually, we must suppose, certain changes would appear; in the course -of perhaps a century there would be an appreciable assimilation of -English institutions to those of France at the present day, for example, -the Roman Catholic religion would gain in strength at the cost of the -Protestant. - -This view has been challenged and described as an extreme view[60]. But -it is not. Both extreme opposite views continue to be maintained just -because the importance of the indirect cumulative effect of innate -qualities on culture is ignored. The innate qualities are of great -importance, but only in the course of centuries can they exert their -full effect on culture. - -If then innate qualities have this importance, in what degree are they -permanent? Here again two extreme views remain opposed to one another. -Even as regards physical qualities this is still the case; and the -problem is much more difficult and at the same time infinitely more -important as regards mental qualities. One reason for the belittling of -innate qualities by Mill and Buckle, and for their overweening -confidence in the power of institutions and environment, was the opinion -generally prevailing in their time that, in so far as racial -peculiarities exist, they can be modified and transformed in a few -generations by physical and social environment. - -But, when, under the influence of Welshman's theories, the majority of -biologists came to the conclusion that acquired qualities are not -transmitted, the position of the 'race theorisers' was immensely -strengthened. For selection, natural or social or artificial, remained -as the only recognised cause of change of racial qualities; and, since -it is clear that the development of civilisation tends to bring to an -end the operation of natural selection, owing to the more efficient -shielding of the weaker by the stronger members of societies, and since -no other form of selection seems to have operated forcibly to change -race qualities, it was inferred that race qualities endure throughout -long ages with very little change. - -Another revolution of opinion has had a similar effect. One of the old -assumptions which seemed to justify the belief in rapid modifiability of -race qualities was that the difference of culture between ourselves and -our savage ancestors corresponds to, and is the expression of, an almost -equally great difference of innate capacities, intellectual and moral. -But this was in the main a misunderstanding. One well established fact -suffices to show its improbability--namely, the larger size of the brains -of Palaeolithic men as compared with our own. Our superiority of -civilisation is due to slow accumulation, each generation adding -comparatively little to the mass of intellectual and moral tradition -which it inherits and passes on to later coming generations. In so far -as differences of cultural level are associated with differences of -level of innate intellectual and moral qualities, cultural superiority -must be regarded as the effect, rather than the cause, of innate mental -superiority. There are strong grounds for holding that, in so far as -Europeans are innately superior to negroes, that superiority was -achieved not by means of, and in the process of, the development of, -civilisation; but rather before civilisation began; and that the -principal mental differences of the various human stocks were, like -their principal physical differences, produced in the course of the -immensely long ages of human life that preceded the dawn of -civilisation, or at any rate of history, ages compared with which the -historic period is but a very brief span. - -This view--namely, that there has been no great change, and certainly no -great increase, of the mental powers of men during the historic -period--was forcibly maintained by Dr A. R. Wallace[61]. Wallace pointed -to the pyramids of Egypt and other great achievements of earlier -civilisations, such as writing, as evidence of the highly developed -intellectual powers of men thousands of years before the Christian era. -He concluded that the men of the early stone age were probably our -equals, intellectually and morally, in respect to innate qualities. - -If, then, so little change of man's mental constitution has been -produced in the course of many thousand years, even though the growth of -civilisation has so profoundly modified his mode of life and the nature -of his pursuits, that is good evidence of the great persistency of -racial mental qualities. But we have more direct evidence of their -persistence. As Wallace points out, the negro and the yellow races are -scattered over many parts of the earth, and, though these regions -present great diversities of physical environment, men of either of the -two races everywhere present the same mental peculiarities or strong -similarities, for example, the Papuan and African and American negroes. -And the characteristic differences between the two races are not -diminished even where, as in the islands of the far East, they have been -subjected to the same physical environment and modes of life for long -periods of time. In the eastern Archipelago, Papuans and Malayans -occupying the same or adjoining islands are cited by Wallace as -illustrating the persistence of racial mental differences; and I can -bear out his remarks from my own observations in that region. - -But we must beware of excess in the direction of the unalterability of -race. The dogma of the non-transmissibility of acquired qualities is by -no means established; it seems not improbable that mental acquisitions -are so transmitted in some degree, though with only very slight effect -in each generation. Even now, when the difficulties of the principle of -transmission of acquired qualities are generally understood, almost all -those who deal with the problem of the genesis of mental and physical -peculiarities of races find themselves driven to postulate the principle -in order to explain the facts. And this in itself constitutes evidence -of a certain value in support of the validity of the principle. - -Again, we must beware of assuming that there are no selective processes -operating among us. Although natural selection may be almost -inoperative, there may well be at work other forms of selection, social -selections; and these are specially powerful amongst populations of -blended stocks. - -Summing up on the durability of racial peculiarities, we may say that -racial qualities are extremely persistent; but that, nevertheless, they -are subject to slow modifications when the conditions of life are -greatly changed, as by emigration, or by changes of climate, or by -social revolutions, and especially among populations of mixed origin. - -To return now to the question of mental homogeneity of a population as a -condition of national character and collective mental life. Purity of -race is the most obvious condition of such homogeneity; but few, if any, -nations that have attained any high level of civilisation have been -racially homogeneous; probably for the simple reason that the -civilisation of such a nation would crystallise at an early stage into -rigid forms which would render further progress impossible. This has -been the fate of most civilisations of the past; as Walter Bagehot put -it, their cake of custom has so hardened as to become brittle, incapable -of partial modification and growth, so that, like a crystal, it must -either resist completely every modifying influence or be shattered -irretrievably[62]. - -Certainly none of the European nations are racially homogeneous. -Nevertheless, some of them approach homogeneity of innate qualities, or, -rather, the degree of heterogeneity is much less in some than in others. -Consider the case of England. Before the Anglo-Saxon invasion the -population consisted in all probability of a mixture of the northern -fair race with a darker race, probably that of _H. Mediterraneus_, in -some proportion that we cannot determine, with small islands of _H. -Alpinus_ or of stocks formed by an earlier blending of this with the -Nordic race. The Anglo-Saxon invasion brought great numbers of the pure -representatives of the Northern race of closely allied stocks; and these -did not confine themselves to any one region, but, entering at many -points of the south and east coasts, diffused themselves throughout -almost all England, imposing themselves as masters upon those Britons -whom they did not drive out. Ever since that time a crossing of the -stocks has been going on freely, little hindered by differences of area, -language, law, or custom. And, with the exception of small numbers of -the Northern stock, Danes and Normans, the population has not received -any considerable additions since the Saxon invasion. - -Now it has been shown by a simple calculation that, given three -generations to the century, each one of us might claim ten million -ancestors in the year 1000 A.D.; while in the fifth century, when this -process of intermarriage began, the number would be enormous, some -thousands of millions; that is, if consanguine marriages had never taken -place. These figures make it clear that, in any mixed population in -which intermarriage takes place freely, the two or more stocks must, -after a comparatively brief period of time, become thoroughly blended, -on one condition--namely, that the cross between the pure stocks is a -stable stock, fertile _inter se_ and with both the parent stocks. There -seems to be no doubt that this was the case with the British and the -Anglo-Saxon stocks, and that the English form now a stable new subrace, -or secondary race, in which the qualities of the northern race -predominate. The subrace may be regarded as innately homogeneous in -fairly high degree; not so homogeneous as a people of unmixed racial -origin, or one formed by a blending of more remote date, but more so -than most of the European nations. This is the sense in which we must -understand the word race, in discussing the influence of race upon -national character. - -In most of the European countries the original mixture of races has been -greater and the degree of blending less intimate. Thus France has the -three stocks, _H. Europaeus_, _Alpinus_, _Mediterraneus_, all largely -represented; but they have remained in some degree geographically -separated in three belts running east and west[63]. Hence there are -greater innate mental differences between Frenchmen than between -Englishmen. Nevertheless the strength of the Roman civilisation of Gaul -sufficed to abolish differences of language and institutions and to -assimilate the later coming Northmen, Franks and Normans; while the -centralised system of administration, established in accordance with the -innate tendencies of the major part of the population, has completed the -work of a long series of national wars, and has produced a firmly united -nation, bound by common traditions and moulded by common institutions. -The greater centralisation of France seems to have compensated for the -less degree of innate uniformity, so that the French people is hardly, -if at all, less truly a nation than our own. - -In our own nation one racial cleft still remains. The Irish have never -undergone that intimate mixture and blending with the Anglo-Saxon stock -which has produced the English subrace; and so they remain an element -which seriously disturbs the harmony of the national mind. And the same -is perhaps true in a less degree of the Welsh people. On the other hand, -the Scottish people, although they enjoyed their independent system of -government for much longer periods than the Irish and Welsh and have a -system of laws and customs differing in many respects from the English, -and indeed may be said to have achieved a considerable degree of -independent nationhood, have nevertheless become thoroughly incorporated -in the British nation; for in the main mass of the Scotch the same -Northern race is the greatly predominant element. - -But it is not till we consider such a country as Austria-Hungary that we -see the full importance of homogeneity of a people for the development -of a national mind. There several races and subraces, one at least with -a strong yellow strain, are grouped together under one flag; but they -remain separated by language and by distribution and by tradition, and, -therefore, are but little mixed and still less blended. Under such -conditions a national mind cannot be formed. The elements of different -racial stock threaten to fall apart at any moment[64]. - -Going further afield, contrast India with China, two regions -geographically comparable in area and in density of population and in -other ways. The population of China is the most racially homogeneous of -all large populations in the world. Hence an extreme uniformity of -culture and social environment, which still further accentuates the -uniformity of mental type. Hence, in spite of the imperfection of means -of communication, we find great political stability and a considerable -degree of national feeling, likely to be followed before long by -harmonious national thought and action on the part of this vast nation. -The one great distracting and disturbing factor in the life of China has -been the intrusion of the Manchus, a people of somewhat different race -and traditions. - -On the other hand, India is peopled by many different stocks, and, -although these are geographically much mixed, they are but very little -blended, owing to the prevalence from early times of the caste system. -The light coloured intellectual Brahman lives side by side with small -black folk, as different physically and mentally as the Englishman and -the Hottentot; and there are also large numbers of other widely -differing racial stocks, including some of yellow race. Hence an extreme -diversity of social environment, save in the case of the Moslem -converts, who, however, being scattered among the rest, do but increase -the endless variety of custom, creed, and social environment. Hence the -people of India have never been bound together in the slightest degree, -save purely externally by the power of foreign conquerors, the Moguls -and the British; and hence, even though nations have begun at various -times to take form in various areas, as e.g. the Sikh nation, they have -never achieved any high degree of permanence and stability and are -restricted in area and numbers. - -Now let us consider for a moment an apparent exception from the -conclusion to which the foregoing argument seems to point--namely, that -homogeneity of innate qualities is the prime condition of a developed -and harmonious national life. - -The most striking exception is afforded by the people of the United -States of America, or the American nation. There we see a great area -populated by immigrants from every part and race of Europe in times so -recent that, although they are pretty well mixed, they are but little -blended by crossing; a considerable part of the population still -consisting of actual immigrants and their children. Here, then, there -can be no question of any homogeneity as regards innate mental -qualities. Nevertheless, the people is truly a nation and, perhaps, -further advanced in the evolution of national consciousness, thought, -and action than many other of the civilised peoples. This we must -attribute to homogeneity of mental qualities which is in the main not -innate but acquired, a uniformity of acquired qualities, especially of -all those that are most important for national life. - -Following Muensterberg's recent account of _The Psychology of the -American People_ we may recognise as individual characteristics, almost -universally diffused, a spirit of self-direction and selfconfidence, of -independence and initiative of a degree unknown elsewhere, a marvellous -optimism or hopefulness both in private and public affairs, a great -seriousness tinged with religion, a humourousness, an interest in the -welfare of society, a high degree of self-respect, and a pride and -confidence in the present and still more in the future of the nation; an -intense activity and a great desire for self-improvement; a truly -democratic spirit which regards all men (or rather all _white_ men) as -essentially or potentially equal, and a complete intolerance of caste. - -Such high degree of acquired homogeneity of individual qualities seems -to be due in about equal parts to uniformity of social and of physical -environment, both of which make strongly in the same direction. The -physical environment consists in a great and rich territory, still only -partially developed, a fairly uniform climate, and a uniformity of the -physical products of human labour resulting from the immense development -of the means of communication. The importance of the physical uniformity -we may realize on reflecting that the one great divergence of physical -conditions, the sub-tropical climate of the southern States, gave rise -to the one great and dangerous division of the people which for a time -threatened the harmonious development of the national life; that is to -say, the civil war was due to the divergence of the social system and -economic interests of the southern States resulting from their -sub-tropical climate. - -The uniformity of social environment we must ascribe, firstly and -chiefly, to the fortunate circumstance that the first immigrants were -men of one well marked and highly superior type, men who possessed in -the fullest measure the independence of character and the initiative of -the fair northern race, and who firmly established the superior social -environment of individualistic type that had been gradually evolved in -England. Secondly, to the fact that the peopling of the whole country -has taken place by diffusion from this strongly organised initial -society; its institutions and ideas, especially its language, its -political freedom, its social seriousness, being carried everywhere. -Thirdly, to the fact that the country was just such as to give the -greatest scope to, and so to develop, these innate tendencies of the -earliest settlers and their successors. Fourthly, to the fact that the -great diffusion of the population of mixed origin has only taken place -since the means of communication have become very highly developed. -Consider, as one example of the effects of the ease of communication -between all parts, the influence of the American Sunday newspapers. -These papers are read on an enormous scale all over the continent; and -the bulk of the contents of those published in different places is -identical, being prepared and printed in New York, or other great city, -and then sent out to be blended with a little local matter in each -centre of publication; thus every Sunday morning vast numbers are -reading the same stuff. Lastly, it must be added, it is largely due to -the fact that in the main the population has been recruited by those -elements of different European peoples who shared in some degree the -leading tendencies of the American character, independence, initiative, -energy and hopefulness; for it is only such people who will tear -themselves from their places in an old civilisation and face the unknown -possibilities of a distant continent. In spite of an increasing -proportion of emigrants of a rather unlike type from south-eastern -Europe, there seems good ground for hope that these factors will -continue to secure a sufficient uniformity of acquired qualities, until -the diverse elements shall have been fused by intermarriage to a new and -stable subrace, innately homogeneous. - -The Americans are, then, no exception to the rule that the evolution of -a national mind presupposes a certain considerable degree of homogeneity -of mental qualities among the individuals of which the nation is -composed. They merely show that, under peculiarly favourable physical -and social conditions, a sufficient degree of such homogeneity may -perhaps be secured in spite of considerable racial heterogeneity. But -the favourable issue of the vast experiment is not yet completely -assured. - -There remains in the American people one great section of the -population, namely the negroes and the men of partly negro descent, -whose innate qualities, mental and physical, are so different from those -of the rest of the population, that it seems to be incapable of -absorption into the nation. This section remains within the nation as a -foreign body which it can neither absorb nor extrude and which is a -perpetual disturber and menace to the national life. The only hope of -solving this difficult problem seems to lie in the possibility of -territorial segregation of the coloured population in an area in which -it might, with assistance from the American people, form an independent -nation. At present it illustrates in the most forcible manner the thesis -of this chapter. - -The geographical peculiarities of the country inhabited by a nation may -greatly favour, or may make against, homogeneity, in so far as this -depends on acquired interests and sentiments. - -The division of the territory occupied by a nation by any physical -barrier makes against homogeneity and therefore against national unity; -whereas absence of internal barriers and the presence of well marked -natural boundaries afford conditions the most favourable to homogeneity. - -Almost all the great and stable nations have occupied well-defined -natural territories. In Great Britain and Japan the national spirit is -perhaps more developed than elsewhere. How much does Great Britain or -Japan owe this to the insular character of its territory, which from -early days has sharply marked off the people from all others, making of -them a well-defined and closed group, within which free intermarriage -has given homogeneity of innate qualities, and within which a national -culture has grown up undisturbed; so that by mental and physical type, -and by language, religion, tradition and sentiment, the people are -sharply marked off from all others, and assimilated to one another! - -A unitary well-defined territory of well marked and fairly uniform -character tends to national unity, not only through making the community -a relatively closed one, but also by aiding the imagination to grasp the -idea of the nation and offering a common object to the affections and -sentiments of the people. - -Contrast in this respect the physical characters of England and Germany. -The boundaries of the latter are almost everywhere artificial and -arbitrary and have fluctuated greatly. It would be impossible for a poet -to write of Germany as Shakespeare wrote of England:-- - - This fortress built by Nature for herself - Against infection and the hand of war; - This happy breed of men, this little world, - This precious stone set in the silver sea, - -and all the rest of that splendid passage. France, Spain, Italy, Greece, -Denmark, Scandinavia, are all more fortunate than Germany or Austria in -this respect; and the lack of such natural boundaries has been in the -past, and threatens to be in the future, a source of weakness to the -German nation. We may, I think, not improbably attribute, in part at -least, to this circumstance a peculiarity often noticed in German -emigrants--namely, that they rapidly become denationalised and -assimilated by the peoples among whom they settle, and that an -Americanised German, for example, has often less sympathetic feeling for -Germany than a foreigner. For, owing largely to the lack of natural -boundaries and the consequent fluctuations that have occurred, and the -mingling and blending with other peoples, Germany is a less clear-cut -conception than Great Britain or France; to be a German is something -much less definite than to be an Englishman or a Japanese, or even a -Frenchman or a Spaniard[65]. And the presence or lack of definite -natural territorial boundaries operates in a similar way through many -centuries, determining on the one hand historical continuity to a people -as a whole, or on the other hand breaches of historical continuity. - -The United States of America afford a fine example of the binding -influence of a well-defined territory; for here the effect is clearly -isolated from racial factors and from slowly accumulated tradition. The -Monroe doctrine is the outward official expression of this effect. The -private individual effect is a sense of part ownership of a splendid -territory with a great future before it. And we are told, I believe -truly, that this sense is very strong and very generally diffused even -among immigrants; that it inspires an unselfish enthusiasm for the work -of developing the immense resources of the country; that this is the -idealistic motive of much of the intense activity which we are apt to -ascribe to the love of the 'almighty dollar'; and that it is one of the -main causes of the rapid assimilation of immigrants to the national type -of mind. - -The Chinese nation, again, owes its existence and its homogeneity of -mental and physical type to geographical unity. Roughly, China consists -of the basins of two immense rivers, not separated from one another by -any great physical barrier, but forming a compact territory well marked -off save in the north. It comprises no such partially separate areas as -in Europe are constituted by Spain, or Italy, or Greece, or Scandinavia, -or even France; almost all parts are well adapted for agriculture. -Hence, largely, the national unity and the national sentiment which have -long existed, and possibly a latent capacity for national thought and -action. - -Perhaps the most striking instance of all is ancient Egypt. There, in -the long strip of land rendered fertile by the waters of the Nile, a -people of mixed origin was long shut up and isolated; there all men felt -their immediate dependence on the same great powers, the great river -which once a year overflows its banks, and the scorching sun which -passes every day across a cloudless sky. There all men looked out on -the same unvarying and unvaried landscape, hoped and feared for the same -causes, suffered the same pains, prayed for the same goods. There was -formed one of the most stable and enduring of nations, whose uniform -culture certainly bears the impress of the uniform monotonous physical -environment[66]. - -The other way in which physical environment affects homogeneity is by -determining similarity or difference of occupations and, through them, -similarities or differences of practical interests and of acquired -qualities. So long as such differences are determined in many small -areas, the result is merely a greater differentiation of the parts, -without danger to the unity of the whole nation. But, when the physical -differences divide a whole people into two or more locally separate -groups differing in occupation and interests and habits, they endanger -the unity of the whole. There are to-day many countries in which the -distribution of mineral wealth is exerting an influence of this sort, -giving rise to the differentiation of an industrial area from -agricultural areas and a consequent divergence of interests and of -mental habits; notably South Africa, Spain, and Italy. - -Great Britain is fortunate in this respect also. Its geological -formation presents on a small scale all the principal strata from the -oldest to the most recent, a fact which secures great diversity within a -compact area, an area too compact to allow of divergences of population -being produced by differences of geological formation; so that it enjoys -the advantages of diversity without its drawbacks. Although a certain -degree of differentiation between north and south may be noted, it is -not sharp or great enough to be dangerous. But let us imagine that coal -and iron had been confined to Scotland. Would there be now the same -harmony between the two countries as actually obtains? The United States -of America afford a good illustration of this principle, as I have -already pointed out; the sub-tropical climate of the southern states -gave rise to a differentiation of occupation, and consequently of ideas -and interests and sentiments, which was almost fatal to the unity of the -nation. A similar differentiation between the agricultural west and the -industrial and commercial east seems to be the greatest danger to the -future unity of the nation; and the same may be said of the Canadian -people. - -Ireland illustrates well the effects of both kinds of physical -influence. The Irish Channel has perpetuated that difference of race -and consequent difference of religion, which, but for it, would -probably have been wiped out by free intermarriage; while the lack of -coal and iron in the greater part of the country has prevented the -spread of industrialism, and has thus accentuated the difference between -the Irish people and the English. And it is obvious that among the -Protestants of Ulster the accessibility of coal and iron, maintaining a -divergence of occupations and of interests which prevents racial and -cultural blending, perpetuates the racial and traditional differences -between them and the rest of the population. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -FREEDOM OF COMMUNICATION AS A CONDITION OF NATIONAL LIFE - - -Let us consider now very briefly in relation to the life of a nation a -second essential condition of all collective mental life--namely, that -the individuals shall be in free communication with one another. This is -obviously necessary to the formation of national mind and character. It -is only through an immense development of the means of communication, -especially the printing press, the railway and the telegraph, that the -modern Nation-State has become possible, and has become the dominant -type of political organism. So familiar are we with this type, that we -are apt to identify the Nation and the State and to regard the large -Nation-State as the normal type of State and of Nation, forgetting that -its evolution was not possible before the modern period. - -In the ancient world the City-State was the dominant type of political -organism; and to Plato and Aristotle any other type seemed undesirable, -if not impossible. For they recognised that collective deliberation and -volition are essential to the true State. Aristotle, trying to imagine a -vast city, remarks--"But a city, having such vast circuit, would contain -a nation rather than a state, like Babylon." The translator there uses -the word 'nation,' not in the modern sense, but rather as we use -'people' to denote a population of common stock not organised to form a -nation. The limits of the political organism capable of a collective -mental life were rightly held to be set by the number of citizens who -could live so close together as to meet in one place to discuss all -public affairs by word of mouth. - -The great empires of antiquity were not nations; they had no collective -mental life. Although the Roman Empire, in the course of its long and -marvellous history, did succeed in generating in almost all its subject -peoples a certain sentiment of pride in and attachment to the Empire, it -cannot be said to have welded them into one nation; for, in spite of the -splendid system of roads and of posting, communication between the parts -was too difficult and slow to permit the reciprocal influences essential -to collective life. As in all the ancient empires, the parts were held -together only by a centralised despotic executive organisation; there -was no possibility of collective deliberation and volition[67]. - -All through history there has obviously been some correlation between -the size of political organisms and the degree of development of means -of communication. At the present time those means have become so highly -developed that the widest spaces of land and sea no longer present any -insuperable limits to the size of nations; and the natural tendency for -the growth of the larger states at the expense of the smaller, by the -absorption of the latter, seems to be increasingly strong. It seems not -unlikely that almost the whole population of the world will shortly be -included in five immense States--the Russian or Slav, the Central -European, the British, the American, and the Yellow or East Asiatic -State. The freedom of communication between the countries of Europe is -now certainly sufficient to allow of their forming a single nation, if -other conditions, such as diversities of racial type and of historical -sentiments, would permit it. - -Although, then, the platform and the orator and the assembly remain -important influences in modern times, it is primarily the telegraph, -wireless telegraphy, the printing press, and the steam engine, that have -rendered possible the large modern nations; for these have facilitated -the dissemination of news and the expression of feeling and opinion on a -large scale, and the free circulation of persons[68]. - -Without this freedom of communication the various parts of the nation -cannot become adequately conscious of one another; and the idea of the -whole must remain very rudimentary in the minds of individuals; each -part of the whole remains ignorant of many other parts, and there can be -no vivid consciousness of a common welfare and a common purpose. But, -more important still, there can be none of that massive influence of the -whole upon each of the units which is of the essence of collective -mental life. Of these means of reciprocal influence the press is the -most important; though, of course, its great influence is only rendered -possible by the railway and the telegraph. - -Hence we find that it is as regards the press that Great Britain and -America differ most markedly from such states as Germany, and still more -Russia. To an Englishman or American the meagre news-sheets which in -Germany take the place of our daily and weekly press bring a shock of -astonishment when he first discovers them; and that astonishment is not -diminished when he finds that the best people hardly trouble to look at -them occasionally[69]. - -It is interesting to note how the general election of January, 1910 -illustrated the importance of improved means of communication. It was -found that the number of citizens voting at the polls was a far larger -proportion of those on the register than at any previous election; and, -in this respect, the election was a more complete expression of the will -of the people than any preceding one. This seems to have been due to the -use of the motor-car, at that time the latest great addition to our -means of communication. - -The modern improvements of means of communication tend strongly to -diminish the importance of the geographical factors we considered in the -foregoing chapter; for they practically abolish what in earlier ages -were physical barriers to intercourse; they render capital and labour -more mobile; and they make many forms of industry less dependent upon -local physical conditions and, therefore, less strictly confined by -geographical factors. As instances of important developments of this -order in the recent past or near future, the reader may be reminded of -the railway over the Andes between Chile and Argentina, the tunnels -through the Alps, the Channel tunnel, the Siberian railway, the Suez and -Panama canals, the Cape to Cairo railway, and, above all, aerial -transport. All these make for free intercourse between peoples. - -Easy means of communication promote development in the direction of the -organic unity of a nation in another way--namely, they promote -specialisation of the functions of different regions; they thus render -local groups incapable of living as relatively independent closed -communities; for they make each local group more dependent upon others, -each upon all and the whole upon each; hence they develop the common -interest of each part in the good of the whole. - -This influence already extends beyond national groups and it had been -hoped that its further growth was about to render war between nations -impossible[70]. To-day England is contemplating a task never before -attempted, the fusing into one nation of the peoples of the -mother-country and her distant colonies. Whether or no she will succeed -depends upon whether the enormously increased facilities of -communication can overcome the principal effects of physical barriers -that we have noted--namely, lack of intermarriage and divergence of -occupations, with the consequent divergence of mental type and -interests. The task is infinitely more difficult than the establishment -of such an Empire as the Roman; not because the distances are greater, -but because the union must take the form of nationhood, because it must -take the form of a collective mind and not that of a merely executive -organisation. But, in the considerations which have shown us that -membership in and devotion to a smaller group is by no means adverse to -membership in and devotion to a larger group, we have ground for -believing that the task is not impossible of achievement. - -The slow rate of progress towards nationhood of such peoples as the -Russian and the Chinese has been largely due to lack of means of free -communication between the parts of these countries. On the introduction -of improved communications, we may expect to see rapid progress of this -kind; for many of the other essential conditions are already present in -both countries. - -The fact that in the Nation-State the communications between individuals -and between the parts of the whole are in the main indirect, mediated by -the press, the telegraph, and the printed word in general, rather than -by voice and gesture and the other direct bodily expressions of thought -and emotion, modifies the primary manifestations of group life in -important ways which we must notice in a later chapter. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -THE PART OF LEADERS IN NATIONAL LIFE - - -We turn now to a third very important condition of the growth of the -national mind, one which also has its analogue in both the crowd and the -army. A crowd always tends to follow some leader in thought, feeling, -and action; and its actions are effective in proportion as it does so. -To follow and obey a leader is the simplest, most rudimentary fashion in -which the crowd's action may become more effective, consistent, -intelligent, controlled. Not any one can be such a leader; exceptional -qualities are necessary. In every army the importance of leadership is -fully recognised. A hierarchy of leaders is the essence of its -organisation. In the deliberately organised army, the appointment of -leaders is the principal and almost the sole direct means taken by the -State to organise the army. Everything is done to give to the leaders of -each grade the greatest possible prestige, especially by multiplying and -accentuating the distinctions between the grades. Though much can be -accomplished in this way, unless the men chosen as leaders have in some -degree the superior qualities required by their position in the -hierarchy, the whole organisation will be of little value. - -The same is true in much higher degree of nations. If a people is to -become a nation, it must be capable of producing personalities of -exceptional powers, who will play the part of leaders; and the special -endowments of the national leader require to be more pronounced and -exceptional, of a higher order, than those required for the exercise of -leadership over a fortuitous crowd. - -Such personalities, more effectively perhaps than any other factors, -engender national unity and bring it to a high pitch. There are regions -in which the other main conditions of national unity have long obtained, -but which have failed to become the seat of any enduring nation. -Although the greater part of Africa, perhaps the richest continent of -the globe, has been in the possession of the negro races during all the -ages in which the European, Asiatic, and American civilisations were -being developed, those races have never founded a nation. Nevertheless -many, perhaps most, negroes are capable of acquiring European culture -and of turning it to good account. And, when brought under the -influence of Arabs or men of other races, they have formed rudimentary -nations[71]. The incapacity to form a nation must be connected with the -fact that the race has never produced any individuals of really high -mental and moral endowments, even when brought under foreign influences; -and it would seem that it is incapable of producing such individuals; -the few distinguished negroes, so called, of America--such as Douglas, -Booker Washington, Du Bois--have been, I believe, in all cases mulattoes -or had some proportion of white blood. We may fairly ascribe the -incapacity of the negro race to form a nation to the lack of men endowed -with the qualities of great leaders, even more than to the lower level -of average capacity. On the other hand, there is at least one people -which, in the absence of every other condition, has continued to retain -something of the character of a nation for many generations--namely, the -Jews. The Jews are not even racially homogeneous, and they are scattered -through all the world under the most varied physical conditions; yet the -influence of a succession of men of exceptional power, Moses and his -successors the prophets, all devoted to the same end--namely, the -establishment of the Jewish nation and religion--has lived on through -many generations and still holds this people together, marking it off -from all others. - -This is an extreme instance. But another almost equally striking case is -that of the Arab nation, which has owed its existence to one man. The -Arab nation was made by the genius of Mahomet, who welded together, by -the force of his personality and the originality and intensity of his -religious conviction, the warring idolatrous clans of Arabia. Until his -advent these had been a scattered multitude, in spite of racial and -geographical uniformity, geographical isolation, and fairly free -intercommunication. We have here one of the purest, clearest instances -of the effect of great personalities in furthering nationhood; for there -seems to be no reason to believe that, if Mahomet had not lived, any -such development of the Arabian people would have taken place. - -M. le Bon has produced a curious piece of evidence bearing on this -question. He has measured the cranial capacity of a great number of -skulls of different races, and has shown that any large collection of -skulls from one of the peoples who have formed a progressive nation -invariably contains a certain small number of skulls of markedly -superior capacity, implying exceptionally large brains; while any -similar collection of skulls from one of the unprogressive peoples, like -the negro, differs, not so much in the smaller average size of the -brain, as in the greater uniformity of size, that is to say, the absence -of individuals of exceptionally large brains[72]. He, rightly, I think, -sees in the absence of such individuals a main condition of the -unprogressive character of these races; and, in the exceptionally large -brains produced among the other peoples, a main condition of their -progress. - -These indications are borne out by a review of the history of any nation -that has achieved a considerable development. Every such people has its -national heroes whom it rightly glorifies or worships; for to them it -owes in chief part its existence. - -To them also it owes in large measure the forms of its institutions, its -religion, its dominant ideas and ideals, its morals, its art and -literature, all that of which it is most proud, all its victories of -peace as well as of war, the memory of which and the common pride in -which is the strongest of all national bonds[73]. - -Who can estimate the enormous influence of Confucius and Laotse in -moulding and rendering uniform the culture of China? The influence of -single individuals has undoubtedly been greater in the early than in the -later stages of civilisation; for there was then a more open field, a -virgin soil, as it were, for the reception of their influence. In the -developed nation the mass of accumulated knowledge and tradition is so -much greater, that the modifications and additions made by any one man -necessarily are relatively small. - -The leading modern nations owe their position to their having produced -great men in considerable numbers; for that reason also no one man -stands out so prominently as Mahomet or Confucius or Moses. Nevertheless -their existence can in many cases be traced to some few great men. Would -Germany now be a nation, but for Frederick the Great and Bismarck? Would -America, but for Washington, Hamilton, and Lincoln? Would Italy, but for -Garibaldi and Mazzini and Cavour? How greatly is the unity of national -spirit and tradition among Englishmen due to the great writers who have -produced the national literature, and to the great statesmen and -soldiers and sailors who have given her a proud position in the world! -What would England be now if Shakespeare, Newton and Darwin, Cromwell -and Chatham, Marlborough and Nelson and Wellington had never been born? - -And it is not only the men of great genius who are essential to the -modern nation, but also men of more than average powers, though not of -the very highest. - -Let us try to imagine the fifty leading minds in each great department -of activity suddenly removed from among us. That will help us to realise -the extent to which the mental life of the nation is dependent on them. -Clearly, we should be reduced to intellectual, moral, and aesthetic -chaos and nullity in a very short time. If a similar state of affairs -should continue for some few generations, Britain would very soon cease -to be of any importance in the world. The force of national traditions -might keep up a certain unity; but we should be a people, or a crowd, -living in the past, without energy, without pride in the present or hope -in the future, having perhaps a little melancholy national sentiment, -but incapable of national thought or action. - -The continuance of the power and prosperity and unity of national life, -the continued existence of the national mind and character, depends, -then, upon the continued production of numbers of such men of more than -average capacity. It is these men who keep alive from generation to -generation, and spread among the masses and so render effective, the -ideas and the moral influence of the men of supremely great powers. -These men exert a guidance and a selection over the cultural elements -which the mass of men absorb. They praise what they believe to be good, -and decry what they believe to be bad; and, in virtue of the prestige -which their exceptional powers have brought them, their verdict is -accepted and moulds popular opinion and sentiment. - -Consider how great in this way has been the influence of men like -Carlyle, Matthew Arnold, and Ruskin. The tone and standard of taste, -thought, and sentiment are set and maintained by such men. It is in -their minds chiefly that the system of ideals and sentiments, which are -the guiding principles and moving forces of the national mind, is -perpetuated. They are truly 'the salt of the earth'; without them the -nation would soon fall into fragments, or become an inert and powerless -mass of but low degree of organisation and unity. - -It is because the national ideals and sentiments are formed by these -leading spirits, and are perpetuated and developed by them, and by them -impressed in some degree upon the mass of the people, and because in -all national movements their influence predominates, that the judgments -and actions, the character and the sentiments, of a nation may be -different from, and in the higher nations are superior to those of the -average men of the nation. As Fouillee said--"The national character is -not always best expressed by the mass, by the vulgar, nor even by the -actual majority. There exists a natural _elite_ which, better than all -the rest, represents the soul of the entire people, its radical ideas -and its most essential tendencies. This is what the politicians too -often forget[74]." That is to say, it is what they forget when, as is -too often the case in this country, they consider that no movement must -be undertaken till the mass of the people demands it. They ignore the -fact that leadership is essential to the maintenance of national life at -a high level, and, instead of exercising initiative, they wait for it to -come from below--wait for a mandate, as they say. The late President -Rooseveldt was a fine example of the contrary type of statesmanship. The -character of the talents displayed by these exceptionally gifted -individuals determines largely the form of the civilisation and, through -shaping the social environment, tends to bring the minds of the mass of -individuals more or less into harmony with it, giving them something of -the same tendencies. - -The men of genius of certain peoples, more especially peoples of -relative racial purity, have excelled in some one direction. Thus the -Semites have produced great religious teachers and little else, and have -given to the world its three great monotheistic religions. The Tartar -race has produced from time to time great soldiers and little else. It -has made immense conquests and established dynasties ruling over other -peoples. But, as in the case of the Turks, who owe their national -existence to a line of great despots of the house of Othman, they make -little progress in civilisation and they do not unify the peoples they -rule; for they produce ability of no other kind. - -We see in most of the leading European nations the predominance of -certain forms of genius. Modern Italy boasts chiefly men great in -religion and art, perhaps owing to the predominance of _Homo -Mediterraneus_; Spain in pictorial art and military conquest; England in -poetry and administration and science; Germany in music and philosophy. -Nevertheless, each of these peoples has produced men of the greatest -power in all or several kinds; and this we may connect with the fact -that they are all of very mixed racial composition. And we may add that -France, the most composite or mixed racially, has produced the greatest -variety of genius. - -The production of the largest numbers of eminent men by peoples of mixed -and blended racial elements, not too widely different, is what -biological knowledge would lead us to expect. For, if a subrace is -produced by crossing of varieties, it will be one of much greater -variability than a pure race; as we see in the cases of the domesticated -horse and dog and pigeon, of which the modern varieties are only kept -pure by continual rejection of the departures from the standards, and of -which the great variability renders possible the production, by -selection of very marked new features in a brief period of time. - -The many elements which go to form the mental constitution of an -individual become, in a mixed race, variously combined. If the crossed -races are very widely different, the results seem to be in nearly all -cases bad. The character of the cross-bred is made up of divergent -inharmonious tendencies, which give rise to internal conflict, just as -the physical features appear in bizarre combination; what examples we -have--the Spanish Americans, the Eurasians, the Mulattoes, the -half-breeds of Java and Canada--seem to show that a people so composed -will produce few great men and will not become a great nation. - -But, when the crossed races are less widely divergent, the elements of -which the mental constitution is composed (and which direct observation -and analogy with physical heredity show to be transmitted more or less -independently of one another from parent to offspring) have -opportunities to come together in new combinations, which result in -mental constitutions unlike those of either parent (that is to say, the -cross-breds are variable); and among these new combinations, while some -will form minds below the average, others will form minds above the -average in various degrees; and these, so long as the constitution is -not too much weakened by radical lack of harmony of its elements, will -be the effective great men. - -Incidentally, these considerations perhaps throw light on a fact much -discussed--namely, that exceptional powers, especially when of highly -specialised nature, are often exhibited by persons of unstable mental -constitution; whence arises the popular belief that genius is allied to, -or is a form of, insanity. - -These considerations also raise a presumption that peoples derived by -the blending of several stocks may be expected to have progressed -further in civilisation and in national growth than those of purer -stock; and that, while the racial purity of a people may give stability, -such a people will be liable to arrest and crystallisation of -civilisation at an early stage, before culture is sufficiently advanced -to render possible a highly developed national life. These indications -are well borne out by a survey of the peoples of the world. We may see -here, in all probability, one of the main causes of the early -crystallisation of Chinese civilisation. Homogeneity and racial purity -have produced extreme stability, but at the cost of the variability -which produces great and original minds, and, therefore, at the cost of -capacity for national progress beyond an early stage. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -OTHER CONDITIONS OF NATIONAL LIFE - - -In the two foregoing chapters, we have considered in relation to the -life of nations three principal conditions essential to all collective -mental life and action, even that of the unorganised crowd--namely, -homogeneity, free communications and leadership. We have now to consider -other conditions which may render the collective mental processes of -nations very different from, and superior to, those of a mere crowd. - -In considering a patriot army as exemplifying collective life of a -relatively high level, we distinguished five principal conditions that -raise it above the level of the mental life of the crowd, in addition to -one which is present in some crowds. This last was a common well-defined -purpose present to, and dominant in, the minds of all individuals. It is -this condition mainly that renders the collective mental life of such an -army so simple, so relatively easy to understand, and so extremely -effective. - -This condition--a clearly defined common purpose dominant in the minds of -the great mass of the constituent units--is for the most part lacking in -the life of nations; its absence is one of the principal reasons for the -ineffectiveness and bewildering complexity of their mental life. It is, -however, occasionally realised in national life, and then we see how -immense is its influence. Such an occasion is a war for national -existence. Consider how, when the excesses of the French Revolution -excited all the monarchies of Europe to attack France, the French -nation, becoming animated with the one strong purpose of asserting its -right to exist and to choose its own form of government, successfully -drove back all its enemies and rose to a height of power and glory -greater than at any other period; and how, at the same time, its parts -were welded more firmly together, so that it displayed a high degree of -unity as well as of efficiency. Having achieved this high degree of -unity and efficiency, the French nation, led on by the ambitions of -Napoleon, became aggressive. And we are told by the historians that the -attacks of Napoleon upon the various European peoples, which threatened -to destroy whatever degree of national life those peoples had attained, -were like the blows of a smith's hammer and resulted in welding together -and hardening into nations the loosely aggregated races ruled over by -the various monarchs; and that in this way these attacks initiated the -modern period of Nation-States[75]. - -War for national existence unifies nations. So long as the nation is not -utterly shattered and crushed, such war greatly develops the national -mind; because it makes one common purpose dominate the minds of all the -citizens. - -We are told that it is a practical maxim of cynical rulers to plunge -their people into war when they are faced by dangerous internal -discontents; and the reason usually given is that war diverts the -attention of the people from their domestic grievances. But if it is a -national war, a war in which the national existence is at stake, it does -far more than merely divert attention; it binds the nation into a -harmonious efficient whole by creating a common purpose; whereas, if the -war is not of this order and is waged in some distant country and merely -for some territorial aggrandisement, it has little or no such effect. -Thus the recent Russo-Japanese war did little or nothing at the time to -raise the Russian people in the scale of nationhood; it was followed by -a period of national weakness; the national existence was not -endangered, the objects of the war were too remote from the interests of -the mass of the people to appeal to them strongly. Whereas the same war -and the years of preparation for it, following upon the previous -Chino-Japanese war, have made the Japanese one of the most efficient and -harmonious nations of the world. - -Another striking example of the same principle was the formation of -modern Bulgaria as a strong Nation-State out of a population of quiet -peasant proprietors united only by spatial proximity and by their racial -distinctness from the surrounding populations. This creation of a strong -nation out of a mere population of peasants was in the main the work of -the war of 1885, by which the unprovoked attack of Servia was -triumphantly repelled[76]. - -The unity and nationhood of modern Germany is largely due to similar -causes; and the war of 1871 may fairly be said to have led to a further -integration of the national life of the French people, in spite of their -defeat. America owes something of the same kind to the Spanish war; and -the entry of that nation into the Great War, long delayed as it was, -will probably be found to have had a similar effect. The French and -Italian nations have undoubtedly been welded more firmly by the Great -War; while England and her sister and daughter nations (with the one sad -exception of the Irish) have been united, by their co-operation in the -one great purpose, to a degree which no other conceivable event could -have achieved and which many generations of peaceful industry and -enlightened political efforts might have failed to approach. - -History offers no parallel to these effects of war; and it is difficult -or impossible to imagine any other common purpose which could exert this -binding influence in a similar degree. But it is worth while to notice -that other and minor forms of international rivalry have corresponding -effects. The international rivalry in aeronautics affords a contemporary -illustration. Perhaps every one in this country has felt some degree of -interest and satisfaction in the achievements of the adventurous spirits -of our nation who have traversed the Atlantic by air. And it is probably -largely owing to the prevalence of this national pride and purpose that, -at a time demanding strict national economy, no voice has been raised -against the enormous current expenditure of the government upon -aeronautics. - -Another and more important effect of the same kind is produced by the -assumption of great national responsibilities in the way of -administration in respect of backward peoples and undeveloped -territories. The greatest example in history is the responsibility of -Great Britain for the administration of India, gradually and only -half-consciously assumed, but now keenly felt as at once a legitimate -ground of national pride and a moral responsibility that cannot be laid -aside. It is like the responsibility of the father of a family in its -semi-instinctive origin and in its effects in steadying and -strengthening character, for it imposes a responsibility which the -nation, like the individual, cannot discharge indifferently without -seriously damaging its reputation and prestige in the eyes of the world. -Holland owes some of the strength of her nationhood to such influences; -and the assumption by the American nation of responsibility for the -peoples of Cuba and of the Phillipine islands cannot fail to bring them -in some degree similar moral benefits[77]. - -Of the five other conditions of the higher development of a collective -mind, let us notice, first and very briefly, continuity of existence, -material and formal. Of course every nation has this in some degree, but -some have it in much higher degree than others. The English nation is -fortunate in this respect also. It has preserved both its formal and -its material continuity in very high degree throughout many centuries, -in fact ever since the Norman Conquest. No European nation can compare -with it in this respect; it is only surpassed by China and perhaps -Japan. The French nation has preserved its material continuity, its -population and territory, in high degree. But the Great Revolution cut -across and destroyed to a great extent its formal continuity, so that, -as is sometimes said, the French nation has cut itself off from its past -and made a new start; although, in doing so, it did not get rid of its -highly centralised system of administration. The modern Italian and -German nations are quite recent growths, their formal continuity having -been subject to many interruptions. Spain, with her almost insular -position, might have had continuity; but it was greatly disturbed by the -imperial ambitions of her rulers in the sixteenth century and by the -expulsion of the Moors. Greece is a striking example of loss of both -material and formal continuity. The population of ancient Greece, which -put her in the van of civilisation, has been largely abolished and -supplanted by a different race; and her formal continuity also has -suffered a number of complete ruptures. - -Now material and formal continuity is, as we said, the essential -presupposition of all the other main conditions of development of the -collective mind. On it depends the strength of custom and tradition and, -to a very great extent, the strength of national sentiment. It is, -therefore, a principal condition of national stability; from it arise -all the great conservative tendencies of the nation, all the forces that -resist change; accordingly, the more complete and long enduring such -continuity has been in the past, the greater is the prospect of its -prolongation in the future. It is owing to the unbroken continuity of -the English nation through so long a period that its organisation is so -stable, its unwritten constitution so effective, at once stable and -plastic, its national sentiment so strong, its complex uncoded system of -judge-made law so nearly in harmony with popular feeling and therefore -so respected. National organisation resting upon this basis of custom -and traditional sentiment is the only kind that is really stable, that -is not liable to be suddenly overthrown by internal upheavals or impacts -from without. For it alone is rooted in the minds of all citizens in the -forms of habit and sentiment. All other organisation is imposed by -authority. - -In this respect modern England and Germany offer a striking contrast -that forces itself upon the most casual observation. As regards the mass -of the people, the position of each individual in the organism of the -German nation is officially determined by the written and codified law -of the State; all personal status and relations are formally determined -by official positions in this recently created system. Almost every -individual carries about some badge or uniform indicating his position -within the system. In England, the status and relations of individuals -are determined by factors a thousand times more subtle and complex, -involving many vaguely conceived and undefined traditions and -sentiments. In Germany, it is almost true to say, if a man has no -official position he has no position at all. In England, the -comparatively few persons who have official positions have also their -social positions by which their private relations are determined. They -are officials only in their offices; whereas the German official is an -official everywhere. - -Other important topics we have to consider are (1) the organisation of -the national mind; (2) the national self-consciousness; (3) the -interaction of the nation as a whole with other nations. All these we -may advantageously consider in the light of an analogy, the analogy -between the individual mind and the collective mind of the nation. This -is a much closer and more illuminating analogy than that between the -nation, or society, and the material organism. The latter analogy has -been developed in detail by H. Spencer, Schaeffle[78] and others; it has -now fallen into some disrepute. It has no doubt a certain value, but it -is popularly used in a way that leads to quite unjustifiable -conclusions. Of these fallacies by far the most commonly accepted is -that which asserts that, just as every animal organism inevitably grows -old and dies, so too must nations. - -This is one of the most popular dogmas of amateur philosophers, and so -distinguished a statesman as the late Lord Salisbury gave it -countenance; while Mr A. J. Balfour in his recent Sidgwick Memorial -Lecture[79] courageously breaks away and proposes to substitute for -senility as the cause of decay the word _decadence_--a proposal which -merely implies that he trusts less to the analogical argument from the -material organism and more to empirical induction, to the observation of -the fact that so many nations have decayed. - -All this serves to illustrate the dangers of analogy. We need no special -cause to account for the fall and the decay of nations, no obscure -principle of senility or decadence; the wonderful thing is that they -exist at all; and what needs explanation is not so much the decay of -some, but rather the long persistence of others. - -Let us turn, then, to the analogy between the organisation of the -national collective mind and that of the individual mind, which, I say, -is so much closer and more illuminating than that between a society and -a bodily organisation. - -The actions of the individual organism are the expression of its mental -constitution or organisation; in some creatures this organisation is -almost wholly innate--the organisation consists of a number of reflex and -instinctive dispositions each specialised for bringing about a special -kind of behaviour under certain circumstances. Such old established -racial dispositions with their special tendencies have their place in -more complexly developed minds; but in these their operations are -complicated and modified by the life of ideas, and by a variety of -habits developed under the guidance of ideas and in the light of -individual experience. - -The enduring reflex and instinctive dispositions of the individual mind -we may liken to the established institutions of a nation, such as the -army and navy, the post office, the judicial and the administrative -systems of officials. These, like the instincts, are specialised -executive organisations working in relative independence of one another, -each discharging some specialised function adapted to satisfy some -constantly recurring need of the whole organism. In both cases such -semi-independent organisations, the instincts or the institutions, are -relatively fixed and stable, and they work, if left to themselves, -quasi-mechanically along old established lines, without intelligent -adaptation to new circumstances; and they are incapable of -self-adaptation. In both cases, the mental organisation is in part -materialised, the instinct in the form of specialised nervous structure, -the institution in the form of the material organisation essential to -its efficient action, the buildings, the printed codes, the whole -material apparatus of complex national administration. In both cases, -the actions in which they play their part are not purely mechanical but -to some extent truly psychical--though of a low order. - -If we accept the view, which is held by many, that instincts and -reflexes are the semi-mechanised results of successive mental -adaptations effected by the mental efforts of successive generations, -then the analogy is still closer; for the permanent national -institutions are also the accumulated semi-mechanised products of the -efforts at adaptation of many generations. - -The organisation of some nations resembles that of the minds of those -animals whose behaviour is purely instinctive. Such is a nation whose -organisation takes the form of a rigid caste system. Each caste performs -its special functions in the prescribed manner in relative independence -of all the others. And, in both cases, the organisation of the mind -includes no means of bringing the different fixed tendencies or -dispositions into harmonious co-operation in the face of unusual -circumstances. The whole system lacks plasticity and adaptability; for -it is relatively mechanical and of a low degree of integration. Any true -adaptation of the whole organism by mental effort is impossible in both -cases. - -The higher type of individual mind is characterised by the development -of the intellectual organisation by means of which the activities of the -various instincts, the executive organisations, may be brought into -co-operation with, or duly subordinated to, one another; and the -activities of each such individual may be further adapted to meet novel -combinations of circumstances not provided for in the innate -organisation; hence, the activities of the whole organism, instead of -being a succession of quasi-mechanical actions, and of crude conflicts -between the impulses or tendencies of the different instincts, reveal a -higher degree of harmony of the parts, a greater integration of the -whole system, and a much greater adaptability to novel circumstances; -while, at the same time, the behaviour of the whole, in face of any one -of the situations provided for by innate organisation or instinct, is -liable to be less sure and perfect than in the case of the less complex, -less highly evolved type of mind. - -Exactly the same is true of the more highly evolved type of national -mind. Like the lower type, it has its executive institutions and -hierarchies of officials, organised for the carrying out of specialised -tasks subserving the economy of the whole. But, in addition, it has a -deliberative organisation which renders possible a play of ideas; and, -through this, the operations of the institutions are modified and -controlled in detail and are harmonised in a way which constitutes a -higher integration of the whole. - -In both cases ideas and judgments reached by the deliberative processes -can only become effective in the world of things and conduct by setting -to work, or calling into play, one or more of the executive dispositions -or institutions. - -In both cases, ideas and the deliberative processes, which to some -extent control the operations of the innate or traditional dispositions, -produce, in so doing, some permanent modification of them in the -direction of adaptation to deal with novel circumstances; so that the -dispositions or institutions grow and change under the guidance of the -deliberative processes, slowly becoming better adapted for the -expression of the ruling ideas; they become better instruments, and more -completely at the service of ideas and of the will. - -Just as the animal, on the instinctive plane of mental life, displays a -very efficient activity in the special situation which brings some one -instinct into play, so any one caste of a caste-nation may perform its -function under normal circumstances with great efficiency, the priestly -caste its priestly function, the warrior caste, or the caste of -sweepers, its function; and, in both cases, the development of the -deliberative organisation is apt to interfere to some extent with the -perfect execution of these specialised functions. - -Again, in the individual mind, adaptation of conduct to novel -circumstances, or to secure improved action in familiar circumstances, -requires the direction of the attention, that is the concentration of -the whole energy of the mind, upon the task; whereas, when the new mode -of behaviour is often repeated, it becomes more and more automatic; for, -owing to the formation of new nervous organisation, the attention is set -free for other tasks of adaptation. Just in the same way new modes of -national behaviour are only effected when the attention of the nation's -mind is turned upon the situation; whereas, with recurrence of the need -for any such novel mode of action, there is formed some special -executive organisation, say a Colonial Office, or an Unemployed Central -Committee, or an Imperial Conference, which deals with it in a more or -less routine fashion, and which, as it becomes perfected, needs less and -less to be controlled and guided by national attention and therefore -operates in the margin of the field of consciousness of the national -mind, while public attention is set free to turn itself to other tasks -of national adaptation. - -We may also regard the customs of a nation as analogous with the habits -of the individual, if (for the sake of the analogy) we accept the view -that instincts are habits that have become hereditary; for custom is an -informal mode in which routine behaviour is determined, and it tends to -lead on to, and to become embodied in, formal institutions; it is like -habit, a transition stage between new adaptation and perfected -organisation. Individual adaptation, habit and instinct are parallel to -national adaptation, custom and legal institution. - -At the risk of wearying the reader, I will refer to one last point of -the analogy. Individual minds become more completely integrated in -proportion as they achieve a full self-consciousness, in proportion as -the idea of the self becomes rich in content and the nucleus of a strong -sentiment generating impulses that control and override impulses of all -other sources. In a similar way, the national mind becomes more -completely integrated in proportion as it achieves full -self-consciousness, that is, in proportion as the idea of the nation -becomes widely diffused among the individual minds, becomes rich in -content and the nucleus of a strong sentiment that supplies motives -capable of overriding and controlling all other motives. - -Consider now in the light of this analogy the principal types of -national organisation. The organisation of some peoples is wholly the -product of the conflicts of blind impulses and purely individual -volitions working through long ages. This is true of many peoples that -have not arrived at a national self-consciousness or, as the French say, -a social consciousness, and are not held in servitude by a despotic -power. It is a natural stage of evolution which corresponds to the stage -of the higher mammals in the scale of evolution of the individual mind. -A nation of this sort has no capacity for collective deliberation and -volitional action. What collective mental life it has is on the plane of -impulse and unregulated desire. Such ideas as are widely accepted may -determine collective action; but such action is not the result of the -weighing of ideas in the light of self-consciousness; hence they are -little adapted to promote the welfare of the nation, and, because there -is no organisation adapted for their expression, they can be but -imperfectly realised. - -We may perhaps take China (as she was until recently) as the highest -type of a nation of this sort. Hers was a complex and vast organisation -consisting of very ancient institutions and customs, slowly evolved by -the conflict of impulses and in part imposed by despotic power and -individual wills; not formed by a national will under the guidance of -national self-consciousness[80]. Hence China was incapable of vigorous -national thought or volition, and its nearest approach to collective -action was expressed in such blind impulsive actions as the Taeping -Rebellion or the Boxer Rising. This last seems to have been prompted by -a dawning national self-consciousness which had not, however, so moulded -the national organisation as to make it an efficient instrument of its -will. - -Of other nations the organisation is, in part only, a natural growth, -having been, in large part, impressed upon it by an external power. -Such is the case in all those many instances in which a foreign power of -higher social organisation has conquered and successfully governed for a -long period a people of lower civilisation. We may see a parallel to -this type in the mind of an individual whose behaviour is in the main -the expression of a number of habits engendered by a severe discipline -which has continued from his earliest years, and which has never -permitted the free development of his natural tendencies and character. -Such was England under the feudal system imposed upon her by her Norman -conquerors. Such also France under Louis XIV. Such was Russia when the -Varegs, the conquering Northmen, imposed on the almost unorganised mass -of Slavs their rule and a national organisation; and such it remained up -to the outbreak of the Great War, a mass of men in whom the national -consciousness was only just beginning to glimmer here and there, crudely -organised by the bureaucratic power of a few. Even in the minds of these -few the national consciousness and purpose was but little developed. -Individual purposes and individual self-consciousness predominated. -Hence Russia had no capacity for national thought and action; and when, -as recently, ideas stirred the masses to action, their actions were -those of unorganised crowds, impulsive and ineffective; the ends were -but vaguely conceived, the means were not deliberately chosen, or, if so -chosen, found no executive organisation for the effective expression of -the collective purpose. - -In such nations the organisation, which has been in the main created by -a small governing class, is adapted only for the execution of its -purposes, and not at all for the formation of a national mind and the -expression of the collective will. The organisation consists primarily -in a system for the collecting of taxes and the compulsory service of a -large army. The revenue is raised for two primary purposes--the support -of the governing class or caste in luxury and the support of the army; -and the end for which the army is maintained is primarily the gathering -of the taxes, and the further extension of the tax-collecting system -over larger areas and populations--a vicious circle. On the other hand, -the conditions which tend to the formation of national mind and -character (which would have quite other ends than these) are naturally -suppressed as completely as possible by the governing few. - -Russian history in modern times exemplifies these principles in the -clearest and most complete manner. The effects of this sort of -organisation were very clearly illustrated by Count Tolstoi's articles -in the _Fortnightly Review_[81], in which he expressed as his social -creed and ideal a complete anarchy to be achieved by passive resistance; -denied that nations have or can have any existence; and asserted that -the idea of a nation is as fictitious as it is pernicious. He had in -mind only this type of organisation of a people, which hardly entitles -it to be called a nation. And the same considerations explain the wide -prevalence of philosophic anarchy in Russia. - -Another type of national organisation results when the natural evolution -of the national mind and character has been artificially and unhealthily -forced by the pressure of the external environment of a people, when the -need of national self-preservation and self-assertion compels the mass -of the people to submit to an organisation which is neither the product -of a natural evolution through the conflict of individual wills, nor the -expression of the general mind and will, nor is altogether imposed upon -it for the individual purposes of the few, but is a system planned by -the few for the good of the whole, and by them imposed upon the whole. -This is the kind of organisation of which a modern army stands as the -extreme type and which is best represented among modern nations by -Germany as she was before the War. - -Under such a system there appears inevitably a tendency rigorously to -subordinate the welfare of individuals to that of the nation as a whole. -And that was just the state of affairs in Germany. German political -philosophy showed the opposite extreme from Tolstoi's; the individual -existed for the nation only. Hence we find this condition of affairs -justified by such writers as Bluentschli[82], Treitschke and Bernhardi, -who represent the State as having an existence and a system of rights -superior to that of all individuals; and we see attempts to justify the -subordination of individual interests by means of the doctrine of the -'collective consciousness[83].' - -In such States as that of the foregoing type the one kind of -organisation is alone highly developed, namely the executive -organisation; while the deliberative organisation is very imperfect and -is repressed and discouraged by the governing power. Such a State is -likely to appear very strong in all its relations with other States, and -its material organisation may be developed in an effective and rapid -way, as we have seen in pre-war Germany. But its actions are not the -expression of the national will and are not the outcome of the general -mind. They are designed by the minds of the few for the good not of -all, but of the whole, the good, that is, not of individuals but of the -State. - -Organisation of this type is not of high stability, in spite of its -appearance of strength and its efficiency for certain limited purposes, -such as industrial organisation and the promotion and diffusion of -material well-being. In a State so organised there inevitably grows up -an antagonism between individual rights and interests and the rights and -interests of the State. It is psychologically unsound. This fact was -revealed in Germany by the tremendous growth of social democracy, which -was the protest against the subordination of individual welfare to that -of the State. The defect of such organisation was illustrated by the -fact that Germany, though its well-governed population increased -rapidly, for many years continued to lose great numbers of its -population to other countries. For the mass of the people felt itself to -be not so much of the State as under it. And it is, I think, obvious -that the advent of a bad and stupid monarch might easily have brought on -a revolution at any time. - -The inherent weakness of the system induced the governing power to all -sorts of extreme measures directed to maintain its equilibrium and -cohesion. Among such State actions the gravest were perhaps the -deliberate falsification of history by the servile historians and the -suppression and distortion of news by the press at the command and -desire of the State. The expropriation of the Polish landowners and the -treatment of Alsace-Lorraine were other striking manifestations of the -imperfect development of the national mind and of the corresponding -practice and philosophy of the State-craft which the world has learnt to -describe as Prussian. - -The organisation of pre-war Germany was, then, very similar to that of -an army and was efficient in a similar way, that is to say for the -attainment of particular immediate ends. In a wider view, such national -organisation is of a lower nature than that of England or France or -America; for the ends or purposes of a nation are remote, they transcend -the vision of the present and cannot be defined in terms of material -prosperity or military power; and only the development of the national -mind, as a natural and spontaneous growth, can give a prospect of -continued progress towards those indefinable ends. Germany was organised -from above for the attainment of a particular end, namely material -prosperity and power among the peoples of the world; and, as the bulk of -her population had been led to accept this narrow national purpose, the -organisation of the nation, like that of an army, was extremely -effective for the purpose. It gave her a great advantage as against the -other nations, among whom the lack of any such clear cut purpose in the -minds of all was a principal difficulty in the way of effective national -thought and action. For a like reason the existence of a nation -organised in this way is a constant threat to the nations of higher -type; and, as we have seen, it may compel them at any time to revert to -or adopt, temporarily at least and so far as they are able, an -organisation of the lower and more immediately effective kind. And this -threat was the justification of the nations of the Entente, when they -demanded a radical change in this political organisation of Germany. In -a similar way, in the past, the Huns, the Turks, and the Arabs, peoples -organised primarily for war and conquest, had to be destroyed as nations -if the evolution of nations of higher type was to go forward. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -THE WILL OF THE NATION[84] - - -Rousseau, in his famous treatise, _Le Contrat Social_, wrote "There is -often a great difference between the will of all and the general will; -the latter looks only to the common interest; the former looks to -private interest, and is nothing but a sum of individual wills; but take -away from these same wills the plus and minus that cancel one another -and there remains, as the sum of the differences, the general will." -"Sovereignty is only the exercise of the general will." That is to say, -a certain number of men will the general good, while most men will only -their private good; the latter neutralise one another, while the former -co-operate to form an effective force. - -Dr Bosanquet[85], criticising Rousseau's doctrine, says that the general -will is expressed by the working of the institutions of the community -which embody its dominant ideas; that no one man really grasps the -nature and relations of the whole society and its tendencies; that the -general will is thus unconscious (by which he seems to mean that the -nation is unconscious of itself and of its ends or purposes); and he -goes on to say that the general will is the product of practical -activities making for nearer smaller ends, and that its harmony depends -on the fact that the activities of each individual are parts of a -systematic whole. - -Bosanquet's theory amounts to a justification of the old individualist -_laissez faire_ doctrine--the doctrine that the good of the whole is best -achieved by giving freest possible scope to the play and conflict of -individual purposes and strivings--the philosophic radicalism of Bentham -and Mill, which teaches that, if each man honestly and efficiently -pursues his private ends, the welfare of the State somehow results. How -this systematic whole which is the State arises he does not explain; and -it seems to me that Bosanquet leaves unsolved that difficulty which, as -we saw, led Schiller and others to postulate an external power guiding -each people--the difficulty, if we assume that individual wills strive -only after private egoistic ends, of explaining how the good of the -whole is nevertheless achieved. - -In all societies many general changes result, and in some nations no -doubt the good of the whole is achieved in a measure by fortunate -accident, in the way Bosanquet describes--namely, by the interplay of -individual wills working for near individual ends. But, I think, it is -improper to say that in such a case any general will exists. Such a -nation, if it displays any collective activity, only does so in an -impulsive blind way which is not true volition, but is comparable rather -with instinctive action; for, as we have seen, self-consciousness is -essential to volition; a truly volitional action is one which issues -from the contemplation of some end represented in relation to the idea -of the self and found to be desirable. And the changes of a society -which result in the way Bosanquet claims as the expression of the -general will are unforeseen and unwilled; they are no more the -expression and effects of a general will than are the movements of a -billiard ball struck simultaneously by two or more men each of whom aims -at a different position. - -Bosanquet maintains that the national will is unconscious of its ends; -but that the life of a nation does express a general will, in virtue of -the fact that the individuals, who will private and less general ends -than the ends of the nation, live in a system of relations that -constitutes them an organism; and that it is in virtue of this organic -system of relations that the individual volitions work out to an -unforeseen unpurposed resultant, which he calls the end willed by the -general will. He makes of this organic unity the essential difference -between a mere crowd and a society or nation--defining an organism or -organic unity as a system of parts the capacities and functions of each -of which are determined by the general nature and principle of the whole -group. - -That is an excellent definition of an organism; and we have recognised -fully the importance of organisation in national life, consisting in -specialisation of the parts such that each part is adapted to perform -some one function that subserves the life of the whole, while itself -dependent upon the proper functioning of all other parts. - -We may admit too that, in proportion as this specialisation of functions -is carried further, organic unity is promoted because the life of the -whole becomes more intimately dependent on the life of each part, and -each part more intimately and completely dependent on the life of the -whole. - -But unity of this sort is characteristic of all animal bodies; and, -though the mind has this kind of organic unity, it acquires, in -proportion as self-consciousness develops, over and above this kind of -unity, a unity of an altogether new and unique kind; a unity which -consists in the whole (or the self) being present to consciousness, -whether clearly or obscurely, during almost every moment of thought, and -pervading and playing some part in the determination of the course of -thought and action. - -Now, the national mind also has both the lower and the higher kinds of -unity. In both cases--that is, in the development both of the individual -and of the national mind--a certain degree of organic unity must be -achieved, before self-consciousness can develop and begin to play its -part; but in both cases, when once it has begun to operate, -self-consciousness goes on greatly to increase the organic unity, to -increase the specialisation of functions and the systematic -interdependence of the parts. - -Consider a single illustration of this parallelism of the individual -with the national mind. Take the aesthetic faculty. In the individual -mind there develops a certain capacity for finding pleasure in certain -objects and impressions, such as young children and even the animals -have; and then, with the growth of self-consciousness, the individual -sets himself deliberately to cultivate this faculty, to specialise it -along particular lines and to exercise it as something apart from his -other mental functions; while, nevertheless, it becomes for him, in -proportion as it is developed and specialised, more and more an -essential part of his total experience. Just so there spontaneously -develop in a people some rudimentary aesthetic practices and traditions -and some class of persons, say the bards, who are more skilled than -other men in ministering to the aesthetic demands of their fellows. -Then, as national self-consciousness develops, the place and value of -these functions in the system of national life becomes explicitly -recognised, and they are deliberately fostered by the establishment of -national institutions, schools of art, academies of letters and music, -the award of public titles and honours and so forth; whereby the -specialisation of these national functions is increased, their -dependence on the life of the whole rendered more intimate, and, at the -same time, the life of the whole rendered more dependent upon the life -of these parts, because the richer aesthetic development of the parts -reacts upon the whole, diffusing itself through and elevating the life -of the whole. - -Bosanquet recognises in national life only the lower kind of unity and -not the unity of self-consciousness. He seems to reject the notion of -national self-consciousness, on the ground that the life of a nation is -so complex that it cannot be fully and adequately reflected in the -consciousness of any individual; yet in this respect the difference -between the national mind and the individual mind is one of degree only -and not of kind. In the individual mind also, even the most highly -developed and self-conscious, the capacities and dispositions and -tendencies that make up the whole mind are never fully and adequately -present to consciousness; the individual never knows himself -exhaustively, though he may continually progress towards a more nearly -complete self-knowledge. Just so the national mind may progress towards -a more complete self-knowledge, and, though at the present time no -nation has attained more than a very imperfect self-knowledge, yet the -process is accelerating rapidly among the more advanced nations; and -such increasing self-knowledge promises to become the dominating factor -in the life of nations, as it is in the lives of all men, save the most -primitive. - -Suppose that all those conditions making for national unity which we -have considered in the foregoing chapters were realised, but that -nevertheless all men continued to be moved only by self-regarding -motives, or by those which have reference to the welfare of themselves -and their family circle or to any ends less comprehensive than the -welfare of the whole nation. We could not then properly speak of the -tendencies resulting from the interplay and the conflict of all these -individual wills as expressions of the general will, as Bosanquet and -others have done, even though the organic unity of the whole secured a -harmonious resultant national activity, if such a thing were possible. -But there is no reason to suppose that such a thing is possible. - -I think we may say that it is only in so far as the idea of the people -or nation as a whole is present to the consciousness of individuals and -determines their actions that a nation in the proper sense of the word -can exist or ever has existed. Without this factor any population -inhabiting a given territory remains either a mere horde or a population -of slaves under a despotism. Neither can be called a nation; wherever a -nation has appeared in the history of the world, the consciousness of -itself as a nation has been an essential condition of its existence and -still more of its progress. - -We may see this, even more clearly, in the case of the smaller -aggregations of men, the smaller social units, the family, the clan, the -tribe. The family is a family only so long as it is conscious of itself -as a family, and only in virtue of that self-consciousness and of the -part which this idea and the sentiments gathered about it play in -determining the actions of each member. How carefully such family -consciousness is sometimes fostered and how great a part it plays in -social life is common knowledge. In the early stages of Greek and Roman -history, the family consciousness was the dominant social force which -long succeeded in overriding and preventing the development of any -larger social consciousness. Just as the _gens_ played this part in -early Rome, so the clan has played a similar part elsewhere, for example -in the highlands of Scotland. Such peoples form the strongest nations. - -Just so with the tribe. It exists as a tribe only because, and in so far -as, it is conscious of itself, and in so far as the idea of the tribe -and devotion to its service determines the actions of individuals. The -mere fact of the possession of a tribal name suffices to prove the -existence of this self-consciousness. And, as a matter of fact, tribal -self-consciousness is in many cases extremely strongly developed; the -idea of the tribe, of its rights and powers, of its past and its future -plays a great part among warlike savages; and an injury done to the -tribe, or an insult offered to it, will often be kept in mind for many -years, even for generations, and will be avenged when an opportunity -occurs, even in spite of the certainty of death to many individuals and -the risk of extermination of the whole tribe. - -The federation of Iroquois tribes to form a rudimentary nation seems to -have been due to a self-conscious collective purpose. And, when other -tribes become fused to form nations, the same holds true. Consider the -Hebrew nation, one of the earliest historical examples of a number of -allied tribes becoming fused to a nation. Surely the idea of the nation -as the chosen people of Jehovah played a vital part in its -consolidation, implanted and fostered as it was by a succession of great -teachers, the prophets. Their work was to implant this idea and this -sentiment strongly in the minds of the people, to create and foster this -traditional sentiment by the aid of supernatural sanctions. The national -self-consciousness thus formed has continued to be not only one factor, -but almost the only factor or condition, of the continued existence of -the Jewish people as a people, or at any rate the one fundamental -condition on which all the others are founded--their exclusive religion, -their objection to intermarriage with outsiders, their hope of a future -restoration of the fortunes of the nation, and so forth. - -And the same is true of every real nation; its existence and its power -are grounded in its consciousness of itself, the idea of the nation as a -dominant factor in the minds of the individuals. The dominant sentiment -which centres about that idea is very different in the various nations. -It may be chiefly pride in the nation's past history, as in Spain; or -hope for its future, as in Japan; or the need of self-assertion in the -present, as in pre-war Germany. - -The political history of Europe in the nineteenth century is chiefly the -history of the national actions that have sprung from increase of -national self-consciousness resulting from the spread of education, from -the improvement of means of communication within each people and from -increase of intercourse between nations. The opening pages were the wars -in which the French people, suddenly aroused to an intense national -consciousness, successfully resisted and drove back all the other -European powers. Of other leading events the formation of modern Italy -and of modern Germany, of Bulgaria, Serbia, Greece, were results of the -awakening of national self-consciousness[86]. - -The resistance of the Japanese to the Russians and their victory over -them were in the fullest sense the immediate outcome of the idea of the -Japanese nation in the minds of all its people, leading to a strong -collective volition for the greater power, glory, and advancement of the -nation. The recent unrest in China is recognised on all hands to be the -expression of a dawning national self-consciousness. In Europe, Poland, -Finland, Hungary, and Ireland exemplify its workings very clearly in -recent years. The Magyars were not oppressed by the Austrians. They, -economically and individually, had nothing material to gain by a -separation from Austria; and in separating themselves they would have -risked much, their lives, and their material welfare; yet the idea of -the Magyar nation impelled them to it. The Poles of Germany were not -rebellious because they were ill-treated and their affairs -maladministered. If they could and would have cast out from their minds -the idea of the Polish nation, they might have comfortably shared in the -marvellously advancing material prosperity of Germany. But they were -severely treated by the Germans, because they were moved by this idea -and this sentiment; and the bad treatment it brought upon them did but -render the idea more vividly, more universally, present to the -consciousness of all, even of the little children at school, and, by -inflaming the passions which have their root in the national sentiment, -strengthened that sentiment. - -But for the idea of the Boer nation and the dawning national sentiment, -the late Boer war would never have occurred; and that sentiment was, as -in the case of the Japanese in their late war, the principal source of -the great energy displayed by the Boers and of such success as they -achieved. - -Even in India, the proposal to divide Bengal has suddenly discovered -among the Bengalese, the most submissive part of the population, the -part which has seemed most devoid of national spirit, the existence and -the importance as a political factor of the idea of the Bengalese as a -people and of sentiments centred upon that idea. - -The rapid increase of national self-consciousness among the peoples of -the world and the increasing part everywhere played by the sentiment for -national existence are in short the dominant facts in the present period -of world history; their influence overshadows all others. - -Since, then, any nation exists only in virtue of the existence of the -idea of the nation in the minds of the individuals of whom it is -composed, and in virtue of the influence of this idea upon their -actions, and since this idea plays so great a part in shaping the -history of the world, it is absurd to maintain that the general will is -but the blind resultant of the conflict of individual wills striving -after private ends and unconscious of the ends or purposes of the -nation. In opposition to such a view, we must maintain that a population -seeking only individual ends cannot form or continue to be a nation, -though all the other conditions we have noticed be present; that a -nation is real and vigorous in proportion as its consciousness of its -self is full and clear. In fact national progress and power and success -depend in chief part upon the fulness and the extension, the depth and -width of this self-consciousness--the accuracy and fulness with which -each individual mind reflects the whole; and upon the strength of the -sentiments which are centred upon it and which lead men to act for the -good of the whole, to postpone private to public ends. And the same -holds good of all the many forms of corporate life within the nation. -Each individual's sense of duty, in so far as it is a true sense of -duty, and not a fictitious sense due merely to superstitious fear or to -habit formed by suggestion and compulsion, is chiefly founded upon the -consciousness of the society of which he forms a part, upon the group -spirit that binds him to his fellows and makes him one with them. And -the nations in which this national self-consciousness is strongest and -most widely diffused will be the successful nations. - -Reflect a little on these facts vouched for by General Sir Ian Hamilton. -No soldier of the Japanese army, none even of the coolies, would accept -anything in the shape of a tip even for honest services rendered, lest -the purity of his motives should be sullied; and each man always went -into action not merely prepared to die if necessary, but actually -prepared and expecting to conquer and to die for the good and glory of -his nation. He writes "Japanese officers have constantly to explain to -their men that they must not consider the main object of the battle is -to get killed[87]." And he goes on to show that they are not fanatics, -are not inspired by any idea of the supernatural or by any hope of -rewards after death, as is usually the case of the Moslem soldier who -displays an equal recklessness of life. Surely, if in any nation the -national consciousness could inspire and maintain all classes of its -people in all relations of life to this high level of strenuous -self-sacrifice for the welfare of the nation, that nation would soon -predominate over all others, and be impregnably strong, no matter what -defects of individual and national character it might display. - -The idea of the nation is, then, a bond between its members over and -above all those bonds of custom, of habit, of economic interdependence, -of law and of self-interest, of sympathy, of imitation, of collective -emotion and thought, which inevitably arise among a homogeneous people -occupying any defined area; and it is the most powerful and essential of -them all. As Fouillee put it, the essential characteristic of human -society is that "it is an organism which realises itself in conceiving -and in willing its own existence. Any collection of men becomes a -society in the only true sense of the word, when all the men conceive -more or less clearly the type of organic whole which they can form by -uniting themselves and when they effectively unite themselves under the -determining influence of this conception. Society is then an organism -which exists because it has been thought and willed, it is an organism -born of an idea[88]." In this sense Society has never yet been perfectly -realized, but it is the ideal towards which social evolution tends. - -National group self-consciousness plays, then, an all-important part in -the life of nations, is in fact the actual, the most essential -constitutive factor of every nation; and nationhood or the principal of -nationality is the dominant note of world history in the present epoch; -that is to say, the desire and aspiration to achieve nationhood, or to -strengthen and advance the life of the nation, is the most powerful -motive underlying the collective actions of almost all civilised and -even of semi-civilised mankind; and the consequent rivalry between -nations overshadows every other feature of modern world history, and is -convulsing and threatening to destroy the whole of modern civilisation. -It is surely well worthy of serious study. Yet, owing to the backward -and neglected state of psychology, not only is this study neglected, -but, as we have seen, some of our leading political philosophers have -not yet even realized the essential nature of the problem; and many of -the historians, economists and political writers are even further from a -grasp of its nature. They have been forced by the prominence and urgency -of the facts to recognise what they call the principle of nationality; -and even now the majority of them are demanding that, in the European -settlement and in the affairs of the world in general, the principle of -nationality shall be given the leading place and the decisive voice. But -they do not recognise that the understanding of this principle, this -all-powerful political factor, is primarily and purely a psychological -problem. We find them, in discussing the nature of nations and the -conditions of nationality, perhaps mentioning the psychological view of -nations as a curious aberration of a few academic cranks, from which -they turn to discover the true secret of nationality in such -considerations as geographical boundaries, race, language, history, and -above all economic factors; they do not see that each and all of these -conditions, real and important though they are and have been in shaping -the history and determining the existence of nations, only play their -parts indirectly by affecting men's minds, their beliefs, opinions, and -sentiments, especially by favouring or repressing the development in -each people of the idea of the nation. - -The all-dominant influence of the idea of the nation, I insist, is not a -theory or a speculative suggestion, it is a literal and obvious fact. -Let every other one of the favouring conditions of nationality, the -geographical, historical, economic be realised by a population; yet, if -that population has no collective self-consciousness, is not strongly -actuated to collective volition by the group spirit, it will remain not -a nation, but a mere aggregate of individuals, having more or less -organic unity due to the differentiation and interdependence of its -parts, but lacking that higher bond of unity which alone can ensure its -stability and continuity, and which, especially, can alone enable it to -withstand and survive the peaceful pressure or the warlike impact of -true nations. - -I am not at present defending nationality; I shall come back to the -question of its value. I am now only concerned with the psychological -problem of the nature and conditions of the development of national -self-consciousness. I have been using the latter phrase and the phrase -'the idea of the nation' as a shorthand expression; but I must remind -the reader that we have to beware of the intellectualist error of -regarding ideas as moving powers; ideas as merely intellectual -representations or conceptions have no motive power, they are in -themselves indifferent. It is only in so far as the object conceived -becomes the object of some sentiment that the conception of it moves us -strongly to feeling and action. I must refer, therefore, to what I have -written on the sentiments and the self-regarding sentiment[89]. Here I -would insist on the strictness in this point of our analogy between the -individual and the national mind. I have pointed out that the -individual's idea of himself only develops beyond a rudimentary stage in -virtue of and in so far as this idea becomes the nucleus of a strong -self-regarding sentiment which gives him an interest in himself, directs -his attention upon his own personality and its relations, and impels him -to strive to know himself. So that a developed individual -self-consciousness never is and never can be a purely intellectual -growth, but always involves a strong sentiment, a centering of emotional -conative tendencies upon this object, the self. Exactly the same is true -of nations. - -Hence national self-consciousness can never develop except in the form -of an idea of strong affective tone, that is to say a sentiment. Hence, -whenever we speak of national self-consciousness or the idea of the -nation as a powerful factor in its life, the sentiment is implied, and I -have implied it when using these expressions hitherto. This national -sentiment, which, if we use the word in its widest sense, may be called -patriotism, is, like all the other group sentiments, developed by way -of extension of the self-regarding sentiment of the individual to the -group, and may be further complicated and strengthened by the inclusion -of other tendencies. A point of especial importance is that this great -group sentiment can hardly be developed otherwise than by way of -extension of sentiments for smaller included groups, the family -especially. For the idea of the nation is too difficult for the grasp of -the child's mind, and cannot, therefore, become the object of a -sentiment until the intellectual powers are considerably developed. -Hence the development of a family sentiment, or of one for some other -small easily conceived group, is essential for the development in the -child of those modes of mental action which are involved in all group -feeling and action. For this reason the family is the surest, perhaps -essential, foundation of national life; and national self-consciousness -is strongest, where family life is strongest. - -The development of the group spirit in general and of national -self-consciousness in particular is favoured by, and indeed dependent -upon, conditions similar to those which develop the self-consciousness -of individuals. Here is another striking point of the analogy between -the individual and the national mind. Passing over other conditions, let -us notice one, the most important of all. The individual's consciousness -of self is developed chiefly by intercourse with other individuals--by -imitation, by conflict, by compulsion, and by co-operation. Without such -intercourse it must remain rudimentary. The individual's conception of -himself is perpetually extended by his increasing knowledge of other -selves; and his knowledge of those other selves grows in the light of -his knowledge of himself. There is perpetual reciprocal action. The same -is true of peoples. A population living shut off, isolated from the rest -of the world, within which no distinctions of tribe and race existed, -would never become conscious of itself as one people and, therefore, -would not become a nation. Some such conditions obtained for long ages -among the pastoral hordes of the central Eurasian Steppes, which, so -long as they remained there, have never formed a nation; and the same -was true of the tribes of Arabia, until Mahomet impelled them by his -religion of the sword to hurl themselves upon neighbouring peoples. - -Of civilised peoples, China has had least intercourse with the outer -world. The Chinese knew too little of other races to imitate them; they -did not come into conflict or co-operation with others, save in a very -partial manner at long intervals of time, or only with their Mongol -conquerors, whom they despised as inferior to them in everything but -warfare, and whom they abhorred. Hence, in spite of the homogeneity of -the people, of the common culture, and of the vast influence of great -teachers, national consciousness and the group spirit in all its forms -remained at a low level. Hence, a great deficiency in those virtues -which have their root in the social consciousness; a low standard of -public duty, a lack of the sense of obligation to society. Hence, the -corruptness and hollowness of all official transactions and political -life. Want of honesty in public affairs is not the expression of an -inherent defect of the Chinese character; for in commercial relations -with Europeans the Chinaman has proved himself extremely trustworthy, -much superior indeed in this respect to some other peoples. It is -probable that, if China, like Europe, had long ago been divided into a -number of nations, each of them, through action and reaction upon the -rest, would have developed a much fuller national consciousness than -exists at present and some considerable degree of public spirit and -would consequently have advanced very much farther in the scale of -social evolution, instead of standing still as the whole people has done -for so long. - -Everywhere we can see the illustrations of this law. Of all forms of -intercourse, conflict and competition are the most effective in -developing national consciousness and character, because they bring a -common purpose to the minds of all individuals; and that is the -condition of the highest degree and effectiveness of collective mental -action and volition. It is under these conditions that the idea of the -nation and the will to protect it and to forward its interests become -predominant in the minds of individuals; and the more so the greater the -public danger, the greater and the more obvious the need for the -postponement of private ends to the general end. - -Already there is beginning to develop a European self-consciousness and -a European purpose, provoked by the demonstration of the hitherto latent -power of Asia; and, if a federation of European peoples is ever to be -realised, it will be the result of their further development through -opposition to a great and threatening Asiatic power, a revived Moslem -empire, or possibly a threatened American domination[90]. - -Although war has hitherto been the most important condition of the -development of national consciousness, it is not the only one; and it -remains to be seen whether industrial or other forms of rivalry can play -a similar part. Probably, industrial rivalry cannot; the accumulation -of wealth is too largely dependent upon the accidents of material -conditions to become a legitimate source of national satisfaction; for, -unlike the satisfaction arising from successful exertion of military -power, it does not imply intrinsic superiorities. If the natural -conditions of material prosperity could be equalised for all nations, -then the acquisition of superior wealth, implying as it would superior -capacities, might become a sufficiently satisfying end of national -action; just as the equalisation of conditions among individuals in -America has for the present rendered the accumulation of wealth a -sufficient end, because such accumulation implies superior powers and is -the mark of personal superiority. - -Other forms of rivalry--rivalry in art, science, letters, in efficiency -of social and political organisation, even in games and sports, all play -some part; and it is possible that together they might suffice to -constitute sufficient stimulus, even though the possibility of war -should be for ever removed[91]. - -But national self-consciousness is not developed by conflict and rivalry -only. It is refined and enriched by all other forms of intercourse. In -studying other peoples, their organisation and their history, we become -more clearly aware of the defects and the qualities and potentialities -of our own nation. And in this way, refinement of national consciousness -is now going on rapidly in the European peoples. The latest considerable -advance is due to the observation of Japan; for this has clearly -demonstrated the imperfection of many conceptions that were current -among us and has brought a certain abatement of national complacency and -a greater earnestness of national self-criticism, which is highly -favourable to increase of national self-knowledge[92]. - -We might place nations in a scale of nationhood. The scale would -correspond roughly to one in which they were arranged according to the -degree to which the public good is the end, and the desire of it the -motive, of men's actions; this in turn would correspond to a scale in -which they were arranged according to the degree of development and -diffusion of the national consciousness, of the idea of the nation or -society as a whole; and this again to one in which they were arranged -according to the degree of intercourse they have had with other nations. -At the bottom of the scale would stand the people of Thibet, the most -isolated people of the world; near them the Chinese, who also have until -recently been almost entirely excluded from international intercourse. -Such peoples have a national consciousness and sentiment which is -extremely vague and imperfect. They do not realise their weakness, their -strength or their potentialities, but have an unenlightened pride -without aspiration for a higher form of national life. A little above -them would stand Russia, which has remained for so long outside the area -of European international life. While at the top of the scale would be -those nations which have borne their part in all the strain and stress -and friction of European rivalry and intercourse. - -These degrees of international intercourse have been very largely -determined by geographical conditions; isolation, and consequent -backwardness in national evolution, being in nearly every case due to -remoteness of position. The most important factor of modern times making -for more rapid social evolution is probably the practical destruction or -overcoming of the barriers between peoples; for thus all peoples are -brought into the international arena, and their national spirit is -developed through international intercourse and rivalry. - -It is this increasing contact and intercourse of peoples, brought about -by the increased facilities of communication, which has quickened the -growth of national self-consciousness throughout all the world and has -made the principle of nationality or, more properly, the desire for -nationhood and for national existence and development, for -self-assertion and for international recognition, the all-important -feature of modern times, overshadowing every other phenomenon that -historians have to notice, or statesmen to reckon with. - -The American nation is interesting in this connexion. If we ask--Why is -their public life on a relatively low level, in spite of so many -favouring conditions, including a healthy and strong public opinion?--the -answer is that they have been until recently too much shut off from -collective intercourse with other nations, too far removed from the -region of conflict and rivalry. And judicious well-wishers of the -American nation rejoice that it has recently entered more fully into the -international arena, and has not continued to pursue the policy of -isolation, which was long in favour; because, as is already manifest, -this fuller intercourse and intenser rivalry with other nations must -render fuller and more effective their national spirit, develop the -national will and raise the national life to a higher plane, giving to -individuals higher ends and motives than the mere accumulation of -wealth, and removing that self-complacency as regards their national -existence which hitherto has characterised them in common with the -peoples of Thibet and China. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -IDEAS IN NATIONAL LIFE - - -We have seen that the idea of the nation can and does, in virtue of the -formation of the sentiment of devotion to it, lead men to choose and -decide and act for the sake of the nation; they desire the welfare and -the good of the nation as a whole, they value its material prosperity -and its reputation in the eyes of other nations; and, in so far as the -decisions and actions of a nation proceed from this motive, co-operating -with and controlling other motives in the minds of its members, such -decision and action are the expressions of true collective volition. - -It is truly volition because it conforms to the true type of volition. -Individual volition can only be marked off from every impulsive action -and every lower form of effort, by the fact that in true volition, among -all the impulses or motives that may impel a man to action or decision, -the dominant role is played by a motive that springs from his -self-regarding sentiment. This motive is a desire to achieve a -particular end, which, viewed as the achievement of the self, brings him -satisfaction, because the thought of himself achieving this end is in -harmony with the ideal of the self which he has gradually built up and -has learnt to desire to realize under the influence of his social -setting. The same is true of national volition. - -And it is collective volition in so far as the deliberations by which -the decision of the nation has been reached have been effected through -those formally and informally organised relations and channels of -communication and by means of all the various modes of interaction of -persons by which public opinion is formed and in which it is guided and -controlled by the living traditions of the nation. - -That this is the true nature of national volition may be more clearly -realized on considering some instances of national action which could -not properly be called the expression of the will of the Nation. A -tariff might be adopted because a large number of men desired it, each -in order that he himself might get rich more quickly; and, even though a -large majority, or even all men, desired it, each for his private end, -it would not be the expression of the national will, it would not be due -to collective volition; it would be the expression of the will of all. -Nor would it be an expression of the national will, even if each -believed that, not only he, but also all his fellows would be enriched, -and if he desired it for that reason also; that would be an expression -of the will of all for the good of all. Only if and in so far as the -decision was reached through the influence of those who desired it, -because it seemed to them to be for the good of the whole nation, would -it be the expression of the will of the nation. - -And the difference would be not merely a difference of motive; the -difference might be very important in respect both of the deliberative -processes by which the decision was reached and also in respect of its -ultimate consequences. For the will of all for the good of all would -have reference only to the immediate future; whereas the truly national -will would be influenced not only by consideration of the good of all -existing citizens, but, in an even greater degree, by the thought of the -continued welfare of the whole nation, in the remote future. - -Again, suppose that, on the occasion of an insult or injury to the -nation (I remind the reader of the incident in the North Sea when the -Russian fleet fired on our fishing boats), a wave of anger against the -offending nation sweeps over the whole country and that this outburst of -popular fury plunges the nation into war. That would be collective -mental process, but not volition; it would be action on the plane of -impulse or desire, unregulated by reflection upon the end proposed in -relation to the welfare of the nation and by the motives to action that -are stirred by such reflection. - -Again, suppose a nation of which every member was patriotic, and suppose -that some proposed national action were pondered upon by each man apart -in his own chamber, without consultation and discussion with his fellows -in public and private. Then, though the decision would be true volition, -in so far as it was determined by each man's desire for the national -welfare, it yet would not be collective or national volition; because -not reached by collective deliberation. - -We have seen that the idea of the nation, present to the minds of the -mass of its members, is an essential condition of the nation's existence -in any true sense of the word nation; that the idea alone as an -intellectual apprehension cannot exert any large influence; that it -determines judgment and action only in virtue of the sentiment which -grows up about this object--a sentiment which is transmitted and fostered -from generation to generation, just because it renders the nation an -object of value. The consideration should be obvious enough; but it has -commonly been ignored by philosophers of the intellectualist school. -They treat the individual mind as a system of ideas; they ignore the -fact that it has a conative side which has its own organisation, -partially distinct from, though not independent of, the intellectual -side; and consequently they ignore equally the fact that the national -mind has its conative organisation. - -Imagine a people in whom anti-nationalism (in the form of -cosmopolitanism, syndicalism or philosophic anarchism) had spread, until -this attitude towards the nation-state as such had become adopted by -half its members, while the other half remained patriotic. Then there -would be acute conflict and discussion, and the idea of the nation would -be vividly present to all minds; but the nature of the sentiment -attached to it would be different and opposite in the two halves; one of -attachment and devotion in the one half; of dislike, aversion, or at -least indifference (i.e. lack of sentiment) in the other half. And the -efforts of the one half to maintain the nation as a unit would be -antagonised and perhaps rendered nugatory by the indifference or -opposition of the other half, who would always seek to break down -national boundaries and would refuse co-operation in any national -action, and who would league themselves with bodies of similar interests -and anti-national tendencies in other countries. Then, even though all -might be well-meaning people desiring the good of mankind, the nation -would be very greatly weakened and probably would soon cease to exist as -such. - -The illustration shews the importance of the distinction which Rousseau -did not draw in his discussion of the general will--namely, the -distinction between the good of all and the good of the whole, i.e. of -the nation as such. It might be argued that the distinction is purely -verbal; it might be said that, if you secure the good of all, you -thereby _ipso facto_ secure the good of the whole, because the whole -consists of the sum of existing individuals; and that this is obvious, -because, if you take them away, no whole remains. But to argue thus is -to ignore the fact on which we have already insisted--namely, that the -whole is much more than the sum of the existing units, because it has an -indefinitely long future before it and a part to play, through -indefinitely long periods of time, as a factor in the general welfare -and progress of mankind. - -So much greater is the whole than the sum of its existing parts, that it -might well seem right to sacrifice the welfare and happiness of one or -two or more generations, and even the lives of the majority of the -citizens, if that were necessary to the preservation and future welfare -of the whole nation as such. This is no merely theoretical distinction, -it is one of the highest practical importance, which we may illustrate -in two ways. - -A whole nation may be confronted with the alternative, may be forced to -choose between the good of all and the good of the whole. Such a choice -was, it may be said without exaggeration, suddenly presented to the -Belgian people, and only less acutely to ourselves and to Italy, by the -recent European conflagration; and in each case the good of the whole -has been preferred. Is it not probable and obvious that, if each or all -of these peoples had consented to the domination of Germany, the -material welfare of all their existing citizens might well have been -increased, rather than diminished, and that their choice has involved -not only the loss of life of large numbers of their citizens and great -sufferings for nearly all the others, but also enormous sacrifice of -material prosperity, in order that the whole may survive and eventually -prosper as a nation working out its national destiny free from external -domination? There are, or were, those who say that they would just as -soon live under German rule, because they would be governed at least as -well and perhaps better than by their own government hitherto; and there -is perhaps nothing intrinsically bad or wrong in this attitude; the -question of its rightness or wrongness turns wholly on the valuation of -nationality. It is easier to appreciate this plea on behalf of another -people than our own. One may hear it said even now that, after all, it -would have been better for Belgium that she should have entered into the -group of Germanic powers in some sort of federal system or Customs -union; that, in general, it is ridiculous that the small states should -claim sovereign powers and pretend to have their own foreign policy and -so forth; that they are struggling against the inevitable, against a -universal and necessary tendency for the absorption of the smaller -states by the larger. - -We may illustrate the difference between regard for the good of all -members of the nation and of the nation itself in another way--namely, by -reference to socialism, the principle which would abolish inequalities -of wealth and opportunity, as far as possible, by abolishing or greatly -restricting the rights of private property and capital, especially the -right of inheritance. There can, I think, be little doubt that the -adoption of socialism in this sense by almost any modern nation would -increase the well being and happiness of its members very decidedly on -the whole for the present generation and possibly for some generations -to come. It is in respect of the continued welfare of the whole and of -its perpetuation as an evolving and progressing organism that the -effects seem likely to be decidedly bad. The socialists are in the main -those who fix their desire and attention on the good of all; hence they -are for the most part inclined to set a low value on nationality, even -while they demand a vast extension of the functions of the State, -conceived as an organised system of administration. Those, on the other -hand, who repudiate socialism, not merely because they belong to the -class of 'Haves,' must seek their justification in the consideration of -the probable effects of such a change on the welfare of the nation -conceived as an organism whose value far transcends the lives of the -present generation. - -When, then, we attribute to the idea of the nation or to the national -consciousness this all-important creative, constitutive, and -conservative function, we must be clear that the idea is not an -intellectual conception merely, but implies an enduring emotional -conative attitude which is the sentiment of devotion to the nation; and, -further, we must remember that the nation means not simply all existing -individuals, the mere momentary embodiment of the nation, but something -that is far greater, because it includes all the potentialities embodied -in the existing persons and organisation. - -It is the presence and operation in the national mind of the idea of the -nation in the extended sense just indicated that gives to national -decisions and actions the character of truly collective volitions; they -approach this type more nearly, the more the idea is rich in meaning and -adequate or true, and the more widely it is spread, and the more -powerful and widely spread is the sentiment which attaches value to the -nation and sways men to decision and action for the sake of the whole, -determining the issue among all other conflicting motives. - -And it is the working of the national spirit and the acceptance of and -devotion to the national organisation which render the submission of the -minority to the means chosen by the majority a voluntary submission; for -it is of the essence of that organisation that, while all accept and -will the same most general end, namely the welfare of the whole, the -choice of means must be determined by the judgment of the majority, -formed and expressed as a collective judgment and opinion by way of all -the many channels of reciprocal influence that the national -organisation, both formal and informal, provides. In so far as each man -holds this attitude, esteeming the nation and accepting loyally its -constitution or organisation, the decision determined by even a bare -majority vote of parliament becomes the expression of the national will; -and the co-operation in carrying it out of those who did not judge the -method to be wise, and who therefore voted against it, yet becomes a -truly voluntary co-operation, in so far as they accept the established -organisation. - -The point may be illustrated by the instance of a nation going to war. A -large minority may be against war, for reasons which to them may seem to -be of the highest kind; it may be that they judge the nation to be -morally in the wrong in the matter in dispute, or very questionably in -the right, as many Englishmen did during the Boer War; and yet, if, by -the accepted organised channels of national deliberation and decision, -war has been declared, then, although it was their duty to do what they -could to make their opinion prevail before the decision was reached, -there is no moral inconsistency in their supporting the war measures -with all their strength. It is in fact implied in their loyalty, if they -are loyal and patriotic, that they shall yield their individual opinion -to the expression of the national will and shall accept the means chosen -to the common end. That is the truth implied in the phrase--My country -right or wrong. Of course, this phrase may be taken in a reprehensible -sense, as meaning that any opportunity of forwarding the immediate -interests of one's country must be taken, regardless of the interests of -other communities and of the obligations of common honesty and humanity -upon which all human welfare depends. - -In the same way, a man might disapprove of a particular tax, say on -liquor, or of obligatory military service; and yet he may accept the -national will and serve faithfully as a soldier, without inconsistency, -and without ceasing to be a free agent truly willing the acts imposed by -his position in the whole organisation; just as during the late war many -priests served as soldiers in the French army. Or, to take an extreme -instance, a man who has broken the law and even incurred the death -penalty may be truly said to undergo his punishment of imprisonment or -death as a morally free agent, if he is loyal to his country and its -institutions, accepting the penalty, while yet believing his action to -be right. Such perfect loyalty to the nation is of course rare; and in -all actual nations men have progressed towards it in very different -degrees. Most existing nations have emerged from preceding despotisms by -the repeated widening of the sphere of freedom, as the growth of loyalty -in strength and extension rendered such freedom consistent with the -survival of the State and its administrative functions. - -Thus a people progresses from the status of an organism, in which the -parts are subordinated to the whole without choice or free volition on -their part, or even against their wills, towards the ideal of a -Nation-state, an organic whole which is founded wholly upon voluntary -contract between each member and the whole, and in which the distinction -between the State and the nation becomes gradually overcome and replaced -by identity. For, as national self-consciousness develops and each man -conceives more fully and clearly the whole nation and his place and -function in it, and grows in loyalty to the nation, he ceases to obey -the laws merely because he is constrained by the authority and force of -the State. An increasing proportion of citizens obey the law and render -due services voluntarily, because they perceive that, in so doing, they -are contributing towards the good of the whole which they value highly; -in so far as they act in this spirit, the actions and restraints -prescribed by law become their voluntary actions and restraints. - -Thus the theory that society is founded upon a _Social Contract_, which, -if taken as a description of the historical process of genesis, is -false, is true, if accepted as the constitutive principle of the ideal -State towards which progressive nations are tending. - -And, as the organisation of a nation becomes less dependent upon outer -authority and upon mere custom and the unreasoning acceptance of -tradition, and more and more upon free consent and voluntary contract, -the nation does not cease to be an organism; it retains that formal and -informal organisation which has developed in large part without the -deliberate guidance of the collective will and which is essential to its -collective life; the national mind, as it grows in force and extension -and understanding of its own organisation, accepts those features which -it finds good, and gradually modifies those which appear less good in -the light of its increasing self knowledge; and so it tends more and -more to become a contractual organism, which, as Fouillee has insisted, -is the highest type of society. - -It should be noticed that this ideal of the contractual organism -synthesises the two great doctrines or theories of society which have -generally been regarded as irreconcilable alternatives: the doctrine of -society as an organism, and that of society as founded upon reason and -free will. They have been treated as opposed and irreconcilable -doctrines, because those who regarded society as an organism, taking -the standpoint of natural science, have laid stress upon its evolution -by biological accidents and by the interaction and conflict of many -blind impulses and purely individual volitions, in which collective -volition, governed by an ideal of the form to be achieved, had no part. -While, on the other hand, the idealist philosophers, describing society -or the nation as wholly the work of reason and free will, have been -guilty of the intellectualist fallacy of regarding man as a purely -rational being; they have ignored the fact that all men, even the most -intellectual, are largely swayed and moulded by processes of suggestion, -imitation, sympathy, and instinctive impulse, in quite non-rational -ways; and they have ignored still more completely the fact that the -operation of these non-rational processes continues to be not only of -immense influence but also inevitable and necessary to the maintenance -of that organic unity of society upon which as a basis the -contract-unity is superimposed as a bond of a higher, more rational and -more spiritual quality. - -The former doctrine logically tends to the paralysis of social effort -and to the adoption of extreme individualism, to the doctrine of each -man for himself, and of _laissez faire_, doctrines such as those of -Herbert Spencer. The other, the idealist theory of the state as being -founded and formed by reason, tends equally logically towards extreme -State socialism; because its overweening belief in reason leads it to -ignore the large and necessary basis of subrational organisation and -operation. - -Only a synthesis of the two in the doctrine of the contractual organism -can reconcile them and give us the ideal of a nation in which the -maximum and perfection of organisation shall be combined with the -maximum of liberty, because in it each individual will be aware of the -whole and his place and functions in it, and will voluntarily accept -that place and perform those functions. - -The highest, most perfectly organised and effective nation is, then, not -that in which the individuals are disposed of, their actions completely -controlled, and their wills suppressed by the power of the State. It is, -rather, one in which the self-consciousness and initiative and volition -of individuals, personality in short, is developed to the highest -degree, and in which the minds and wills of the members work -harmoniously together under the guidance and pressure of the idea of the -nation, rendered in the highest degree explicit and full and accurate. - - -THE VALUE OF NATIONALITY - -At the present time, while the mass of men continue to accept the duty -of patriotism unquestioningly, and historians for the most part are -content to describe with some astonishment the immense development of -nationalism in the past century, many voices are loudly raised for and -against nationality. The great mass of men no doubt are swept away in -the flood of patriotic feeling. But the war has also intensified the -antipathy, and given increased force to the arguments, of those who -decry nationality and deprecate patriotism--for these are but two -different modes of expressing the same attitude. - -There are two principal classes of the anti-nationalists. First, the -philosophic anarchists, who would abolish all states and governments, as -unnecessary evils, men like Kropotkin and Tolstoi. Secondly, the -cosmopolitans, who, while believing in the necessity of government and -even demanding more centralised administration, would yet abolish all -national boundaries as far as possible, boundaries of geography, of -language, race and sentiment, and all national governments, and would -aim at the establishment of one great world state. - -Though the aims of these two parties are so widely different, they use -much the same arguments against nationalism. According to the -anti-nationalist view, nationalism and the patriotism in which it is -founded are a kind of disease of human nature, which, owing to the -unfortunate fact that mankind has retained the gregarious instinct of -his animal ancestors, inevitably breaks out as soon as any community -begins to come into free contact and rivalry with other communities, and -which tends to grow in force in a purely instinctive and irrational -manner the more these contacts and rivalries increase. - -The liability to patriotism is thus regarded as closely comparable with -mankind's unfortunate liability to drunkenness, to feel the fascination -of strong liquor--as merely a natural and inevitable result or by-product -of an unfortunate flaw in human nature--a tendency which will have to be -sternly repressed and, if possible, eradicated, before men can hope to -live in peace and tolerable security and to develop their higher -capacities. - -The fact that patriotism of some degree and form is universally -displayed, and that it breaks out everywhere into heat and flame when -certain conditions are realized, does not for them in any degree justify -it; and it should not, they hold, reconcile us to its continued -existence; they draw an indictment not merely against a whole people, -but against the whole human race. They attack nationalism, firstly, by -describing what in their opinion patriotism is and whence it comes; -secondly, by describing what they believe to be the natural consequences -and effects of nationalism. - -The most common mode of attack is to identify patriotism with jingoism; -they speak of "jelly-bellied flag-flappers" of flag-wagging and -mafficking; they assert that the essence of patriotism is hatred and all -uncharitableness towards other countries and their citizens.[93] - -Less virulent is the criticism of those who, looking coldly upon -patriotism, describe it as the mere blind expression of the working of -the gregarious instinct among us, and as something therefore quite -irrational, which must and will tend to disappear, as men become more -enlightened and are guided more by reason and less by instinct.[94] - -Again, it is said that patriotism is a form of selfishness and therefore -bad; that it is a limitation of our sympathies, a principle of -injustice; that it stands in the way of the realisation of universal -justice, of the universal brotherhood of man, which is the ideal we -obviously must accept and aim at. Or in other words, and this is the -main indictment, it is alleged that patriotism and nationalism -inevitably tend to produce war, that they keep the rival nations -perpetually arming for possible wars and actually in commercial and -economic war, if not at real war. And of course the evils of warfare and -of such perpetual preparation for war are great and obvious enough in -modern Europe. In support of this indictment, they point to the golden -age of the Roman Empire, when the inhabitants of all its parts were -content to sink their differences of race and country and were proud to -proclaim themselves citizens of the Roman Empire; and they say that in -consequence the civilised world attained then a pitch of prosperity and -contentment never known before or since over any large area of the -earth. - -This is a formidable indictment, to which the exponents and advocates of -patriotism have for the most part been content to reply by renewed -exhortations to patriotism, by emotional appeals, by rhetoric, by the -quotation of patriotic verses, the citation of the glorious deeds of our -armies and soldiers now and in past times, by all the arts of persuasion -and suggestion. As a fine example of this method one may cite Mr -Stratford Wingfield's _History of British Patriotism_, in which he not -only confines himself to these methods, but shows a positive dislike and -contempt for all attempts to apply reason and scientific method to the -study of human affairs.[95] In maintaining this attitude, the advocates -of patriotism give some colour to the claim of their opponents that -patriotism or nationalism is essentially irrational, in the sense that -it is incapable of justification by reason. - -The politicians and historians, on the other hand, who are so generally -demanding that the European settlement after the war must accept -nationality as its fundamental principle, are commonly content to note -the strength and the wide distribution of the patriotic sentiment, -without enquiring into its origin, nature, or value. - -Let us examine the arguments against patriotism and then see what reason -can advance in its defence. For, though a rational defence of patriotism -will have little direct effect in making patriots, we may be sure that, -if such defence cannot be maintained, patriotism will have to fight a -losing battle. - -In disparaging patriotism by describing it as the work of an instinct, -the gregarious or the pugnacious or other instinct, or of several -instincts, its critics are guilty of two psychological errors and a -popular fallacy. The last is the fallacy that the worth of any thing is -to be judged by the course from which it springs. Even if patriotism -were nothing more than the direct expression of the gregarious instinct -which we possess in common with many of the higher animals, that would -not in itself condemn it. But this description of it, as a product of -instinct as opposed to the principles we attain by reason, involves that -false disjunction and opposition of reason to instinct which is -traditional and which the intellectualist philosophers commonly adopt, -when they condescend to recognise in any way the presence of instinctive -tendencies in human nature. - -The other psychological error is the failure to recognize that -patriotism although, like all other great mental forces, it is rooted in -instinct, is not itself an instinct or the direct expression of any -instinct or group of instincts, but is rather an extremely complicated -sentiment, which has a long and complex history in each individual mind -in which it manifests itself; that it is, therefore, capable of infinite -variety and of an indefinite degree of intellectualisation and -refinement; that the cult of patriotism is, therefore, a field for -educational effort of the highest order, and that in this field moral -and intellectual education may achieve their noblest and most -far-reaching effects. - -The psychological justification of patriotism has already been -indicated, but may be concisely stated here. The moral value of the -group spirit was considered in an earlier chapter; we saw how it, and it -alone, raises the conduct of the mass of men above the plane of simple -egoism or family selfishness. The sentiment of devotion or loyalty to -any group has this virtue in some degree; but loyalty to the nation is -capable of exalting character and conduct in a higher degree than any -other form of the group spirit. For the nation alone has continuity of -existence in the highest degree; a long past which gives a large -perspective of past history, involving the history of long series of -self-sacrificing efforts and many heroic actions; and the prospect of an -indefinitely prolonged future, with the possibility of continued -progress and development of every kind, and therefore some security for -the perpetuation of the results achieved by individual efforts[96]. - -Further, the nation alone, is a self-contained and complete organism; -other groups within it do but minister to the life of the whole; their -value is relative to that of the whole; the continuance of results -achieved on their behalf is dependent upon the continued welfare of the -whole (for example, the welfare of any class or profession--a fact too -easily overlooked by those in whom class spirit grows strong). Hence, -the nation, as an object of sentiment, includes all smaller groups -within it; and, when the nation is regarded from an enlightened point of -view, the sentiment for it naturally comes to include in one great -system all minor group sentiments and to be strengthened by their -incorporation. - -It is important to notice also that, just as the minor group sentiments -are not incompatible with, but rather may strengthen, the national -sentiment, when subordinated to and incorporated in it, so the national -sentiment is not incompatible with still more widely inclusive group -sentiments--for example, that for a European system of nations, for the -'League of Nations' or for Western Civilisation in general. And, while -loyalty to humanity as a whole is a noble ideal, it is one which can -only be realized through a further step of that process of extension of -the object of the group sentiment, of which extension patriotism itself -is the culmination at present for the great mass of civilised mankind. -The attempt to achieve it by any other road is bound to fail because -psychologically unsound[97]. - -Let us note in passing that neglect of this truth gives rise to two of -the extreme forms of political doctrine or ideal, current at the present -day; first, the ideal of the brotherhood of man in a nationless world; -secondly, the extreme form of democratic individualism which assumes -that the good of society is best promoted by the freest possible pursuit -by individuals of their private ends, which believes that each man must -have an equal voice in the government of his country, because that is -the only way in which his interests and those of his class can be -protected and forwarded; a doctrine which regards public life as a mere -strife of private and class interests. Both ideals fly in the face of -psychological facts; and, though they are in appearance extreme -opposites, they are apt to be found associated in the same minds. - -At the other end of the scale, we have the philosophical conservatism of -such a thinker as Edmund Burke, which is keenly aware of the organic -unity of society and looks constantly to the good of the whole, deriving -from that consideration its leading motives and principles, and which -trusts principally to the growth of the group spirit for the holding of -the balance between conflicting interests and for the promotion of the -public welfare. - -Having seen the importance for national life of the idea of the nation, -the diffusion of which through the minds of the people constitutes -national self-consciousness, let us glance for a moment at the way other -ideas may play leading roles in national life. Such are ideas which -became national ideals, that is to say, ideas of some end to be realised -by the nation which became widely entertained and the objects of strong -sentiments and of collective emotion and desire and which, therefore, -determine collective action. - -I shall not attempt to deal separately with various classes of such -ideas, or ideals--the political, the religious, the economic; but shall -only note the fact that they have played and may yet play great parts in -the history of the world. - -Men are not swayed exclusively by considerations of material -self-interest, as the older school of economists generally assumed; nor -even by spiritual self-interest, as too much of the religious teaching -of the past has assumed; nor even by consideration of the welfare of the -social groups of which they are members. Many of the great events of -history have been determined by ideas that have had no relation to -individual welfare, but have inspired a collective enthusiasm for -collective action, for national effort, of a disinterested kind; and the -lives of some nations have been dominated by some one or two such ideas. -These ideas are first conceived and taught by some great man, or by a -few men who have acquired prestige and influence; they then become -generally accepted by suggestion and imitation, accepted more or less -uncritically and established beyond the reach of argument and reasoning. - -No matter what the character of the idea, its collective acceptance by a -people enhances for the time the homogeneity of mind among them, renders -the people more intimately a unity, and serves also to mark it off more -sharply from other peoples among whom other ideas prevail. - -But, besides thus binding together at any period of its history the -people that entertains it the generally accepted idea, if it endures, -may produce further effects by becoming incorporated in the national -organisation; in so far as it determines the form of activity of the -people, it moulds their institutions and customs into harmony with -itself, until they become in some measure its embodiment and expression; -and in any vigorous nation there are usually one or two dominant ideas -at work in this way. - -It is a favourite dogma with some writers (for example M. le Bon) that -ideas, before they can exert great effects in the life of a nation, must -first become unconscious ideas, incorporated as they say in the -unconscious soul of a people. This is an obscure confused doctrine, -which, if it is meant to be taken literally, we can only reject. If it -is to have any real meaning, it must be taken in the sense that the long -prevalence of the ideal moulds the institutions and customs and the -executive organisation of a people, so that national action towards the -ideal end becomes more or less automatic or routine. - -If the ideal so accepted and incorporated in the organised structure of -the national mind, is one that makes for strength and at the same time -permits of progress, it lives on; in other cases it may destroy the -nation, or petrify it, arresting all progress. - -Consider one or two examples of ideas that have played dominant roles in -the lives of nations. They are mostly political, or religious, or, most -powerful of all, politico-religious. The idea of world-conquest has -dominated and has destroyed several great nations, of which the latest -example is the German Empire. The idea of conversion by the sword, -accepted with enthusiasm by the Arab nation, gave it for a time -tremendous energy, but contained no potency of permanent power or of -progress. The idea of immortality, or desire of continued existence -after death, seems to have dominated the minds of the ancient Egyptian -people; the idea of escape from the evils of this world, those who have -fully accepted Buddhism, like the Burmans[98]. The idea of caste as an -eternal and impassable barrier has largely determined the history of -India. - -All these are ideas which have proved ineffective to sustain national -vigour or to promote social evolution. It would not be strictly true to -say that the fall, or the unprogressive condition, of the peoples that -have entertained these ideas is the result of those ideas; because the -general acceptance of them proves that they were in harmony with the -type of mind of the people. Yet the formulation of the ideas by the -leading minds who impressed them on the peoples must have accentuated -those tendencies with which they harmonised; and in each case, if the -idea had never been formulated, or if others had been effectively -impressed on the mind of the people, the course of its history would -have been changed. Of ideas less adverse to national life take the idea -of ancestor worship, and the idea of personal loyalty to the ruler, -ideas which commonly go together and have played an immense part in the -life of some peoples, notably in Japan; they have served as effective -national bonds in periods of transition through which despotically ruled -populations have progressed to true nationhood. The idea of the divine -right of kings played for a time a similar role in Europe. - -A good example of the operation of an ideal in a modern nation is that -of the ideal of a great colonial empire in the French nation. No doubt, -hopes of economic advantages may have played some part in this case; but -the growth of the immense oversea empire of modern France, as well as -of the great extra-European conquests which France has made in the past -but has ceased to control, seems to have been due in the main to the -operation of this ideal in the national mind. France has no surplus -population, and no Frenchman desires to leave his beautiful France; -everyone regards himself as cruelly exiled if compelled to live for a -time in any of the oversea possessions; and most of these, notably the -Indo-Chinese Empire are very expensive, costing the nation far more in -administrative expenses than any profits derived from them, and -involving constant risks of international complications and war, as in -Morocco in recent years. Nevertheless, the ideal still holds sway and, -under its driving power, the oversea territories of France, especially -in Africa, have grown enormously. And this ideal has inevitably -incorporated itself in the organisation of the nation, in a colonial -office and a foreign legion, and all the administrative machinery -necessarily set up for securing the ends prescribed by the ideal. - -In modern times the most striking illustration of the power of ideas on -national life is afforded by the influence of the ideals of liberty and -equality. It was the effective teaching of these ideals of liberty and -equality, primarily by Rousseau, to a people prepared by circumstances -to receive them, which produced the French Revolution; and all through -the nineteenth century they have continued to determine great changes of -political and social organisation in many countries of Europe and in -America. - -In England the idea of liberty has long been current and long ago had -become incorporated and expressed in the national organisation; but its -application received a vast extension when in 1834 England insisted on -the liberation of all British-owned slaves and paid twenty million -sterling in compensation. That the idea still lives on among us, with -this extended application, seems to have been proved by the results of -recent elections which were influenced largely by the force of the -no-slavery cry in relation to coloured labour. It is an excellent -example of an established collective ideal against which reason is of no -avail. - -The ideal of liberty never entered the minds of the most advanced -peoples of antiquity; their most enlightened political thinkers could -not imagine a State which was not founded upon slavery. Yet it has -become collectively accepted by all the leading nations, and the -ordinary man has so entirely accepted it that he cannot be brought to -reason about it. Facts and arguments tending to show that the greater -part of the population of the world might be happier without liberty and -under some form of slavery cannot touch or enter his mind at all. - -The ideal of political equality is of still later growth, and is in a -sense derivative from that of liberty; it was in the main accepted as a -means to liberty, but has become an end in itself. It is moulding -national organisation everywhere; through its influence parliamentary -government and universal suffrage are becoming the almost universal -rule, and, through leading to their adoption, this ideal is in a fair -way to wreck certain of the less firmly organised nations, and possibly -our own also. - -But the ideal which, beyond all others, characterises the present age of -almost all the nations of the world is the ideal of progress. Hardly -anyone has any clear notion what he means by progress, or could -explicate the idea; but the sentiment is very strong, though the idea is -very vague. This idea also was unknown to the leading thinkers of -antiquity and is of recent growth; yet it is so almost universally -accepted, and it so permeates the mental atmosphere in every direction, -that it is hard for us to realise how new a thing in the history of the -world is the existence, and still more the effective dominance, of the -idea. It is perhaps in America that its rule is most absolute; there the -severest condemnation that can be passed by the average man upon any -people or institution is to say that it is fifty years behind the time. -The popular enthusiasm for flying-machines, which threatens to make life -almost unlivable, is one of the striking illustrations of the force of -this ideal. - -More recent still, and perhaps equally important, is the idea of the -solidarity of the human race and of the responsibility of each nation -towards the rest, especially towards the weaker and more backward -peoples. We no longer cheerfully and openly exterminate an inferior -people; and, when we do so, it is with some expressions of regret and -even of indignation. - -But this moral idea is still in process of finding acceptance and -illustrates well that process. It has been taught by a few superior -minds and none dares openly repudiate it; hence, it gains ground and is -now commonly accepted, verbally at least, and is just beginning to -affect national action. - -The four ideas, liberty, equality, progress, and human solidarity or -universal responsibility, seem to be the leading ideas of the present -era, the ideas which, in conjunction with national sentiments, are more -than any other, fashioning the future of the world. - -The last two illustrate exceptionally well the capacity of nations to be -moved by abstract ideas not directly related to the welfare of the -individuals whose actions they determine; they show once more how false -is the doctrine that national life is but the conflict of individual -wills striving after individual goods. They show that, through his life -in and mental interaction with organised society, man is raised morally -and intellectually high above the level he could individually achieve. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -NATIONS OF THE HIGHER TYPE - - -Let us consider now the type of nation which from our present point of -view is the most interesting, the type which approximates most nearly to -a solution of the problem of civilisation, to the reconciliation of -individuality with collectivity, to the synthesis of individualist and -collectivist ideals; that in which the rights and wills of individuals -are not forcibly subordinated to those of the State by the power of a -governing class, and in which the deliberative side of the national mind -is well developed and effective. - -Such are in a certain degree the French, but still more the British and -the American nations. In the two latter countries the rights of the -individual are made supreme over all other considerations, the welfare -of the whole is only to be advanced by measures which do not override -individual wills and rights; or, at least, the only power which is -admitted to have the right in any degree to override individual wills is -the will of the majority. In such a nation the greatest efforts are -concentrated on the perfection of the deliberative organisation, by -means of which the general mind may arrive at collective judgment and -choice of means and may express its will. A vast amount of time and -energy is devoted to this deliberative work; while the executive -organisation, by which its decisions have to be carried into effect, is -apt to be comparatively neglected and hence imperfect. - -These two complementary features of such states we see well exemplified -here and in America[99]; where the amount of time, money, and effort -spent upon the deliberative processes and the elaboration of the -organisation through which they are effected is enormously greater than -in other nations. And, in spite of the energy expended on deliberative -processes and on the elaboration of their organisation, the interests of -the nation as a whole are not at present forwarded in a manner at all -comparable with those of such a State as Germany. Nevertheless, such -national actions as we do achieve are far more truly the expression of -the national will; and, if the national mind is to be developed to a -high level, this vast expenditure of energy, which to some impatient -spirits seems wasteful and useless, must go on. - -As was said in a former chapter, such collective deliberation of modern -nations is only rendered possible by the great facilities of -communication we enjoy; telegraph, post, and railway, and especially the -press. The ancients saw truly enough that, with their limited means of -communication, the higher form of state-organisation must be restricted -to a small population of some thousands only--the City-State. - -It is important to note that not only do modern facilities of -communication render possible a truly collective mental life for the -large Nation-States of the present age; but that these modern conditions -actually carry with them certain great advantages, which tend to raise -the collective mental life of modern nations to a higher level than was -possible for the ancient City-State, even though its members were of -high average capacity and many of them of very great mental power, as in -Athens. - -The assembly of citizens in one place for national deliberation rendered -them much more susceptible to those less desirable peculiarities of -collective mental life which characterise simple crowds; particularly, -the excess of emotional excitement, increased suggestibility, and, -hence, the ease with which the whole mass could be swayed unduly by the -skilful orator. In the modern nation, on the other hand, the -transmission of news by the press secures a certain delay, and a lack of -synchronism, in its reception by different groups and individuals; and -it secures also a certain delay in the action and reaction of mind on -mind, which gives opportunity for individual deliberation. Also the -sympathetic action of the mass mind on the individual mind is in large -part indirect, rather than direct, representative rather than -perceptual, and therefore less overwhelming in its effects. These -conditions greatly temper the violence of the emotional reactions and -permit of a diversity of feeling and opinion; an opposed minority has -time to form itself and to express an opinion, and so may temper the -hasty and emotional reaction of the majority in a way that is impossible -in a general assembly. - -A further advantage of the large size of nations may arise from the fact -that actual decision as to choice of means for effecting national action -has to be achieved by means of representatives who come together in one -place. Representative government is not merely an inferior substitute -for government by general assembly; it is superior in many respects. If -each representative were a mere delegate, an average specimen of the -group he represents, chosen by lot and merely charged to express their -will, this feature would modify the crude collective mental processes in -one important respect only; namely, it would counteract to some extent -that weakening of individual responsibility which is characteristic of -collective mental action. But, in addition to this, internal -organisation, in the form of tradition and custom, comes in to modify -very greatly the collective process. - -We see such modifying influence very clearly in the election of the -English House of Commons and in the methods of its operations. Owing -partly to a natural tendency, partly to a fortunate tradition, the -people do not elect just any one of themselves to serve as a delegate or -average sample of the mass; but as a rule they choose, or try to choose, -some man who displays special capacity and special qualifications for -taking part in the national deliberations. In so far as they are -successful in this, their representatives are able men and men to whose -minds the social consciousness, the consciousness of the whole people, -of its needs and tendencies and aspirations, is more fully and clearly -present than to the average mind. They are also in the main men of more -than average public spirit. Hence it is not unknown that a purely -working class constituency, being offered liberal, conservative, and -labour candidates, instead of choosing the labour man, one of -themselves, gives him only a small fraction of the total votes. Then, -within the body of representatives, this process, by which greater -influence is given to the abler men, to those whose minds reflect most -fully the whole people, is carried further still. A small group of these -men exerts a predominant influence in all deliberations; and not only -are they in the main the best qualified (for they only attain their -leading positions by success in an intense and long continued -competition) but they are put in a position in which they can hardly -fail to feel a great responsibility resting upon them; and in which they -feel the full force of political traditions. The deliberative -organisation of the American nation illustrates, when compared with our -own, the importance of these traditions; for its lesser efficiency is -largely due to the absence of such traditions, and to the fact that -their system banishes from the House of Representatives its natural -leaders and those on whom responsibility falls most heavily. - -Lastly, the existence of two traditionally opposed parties ensures that -every important step shall be fully discussed. The traditional division -into two parties, which from one point of view seems so irrational, -nevertheless exerts very important and valuable influences, of which the -chief is that it prevents the assembly of legislators becoming a mere -psychological crowd easily swayed to a decision by collective emotion -and skilful suggestion; for each suggestion coming from the one party -acts by contra-suggestion upon the other and provokes an opposition that -necessitates discussion[100]. - -In these two ways, then;--first, through the culmination of national -deliberation among a selected group of representatives, among whom again -custom and tradition accord precedence and prestige to the natural -leaders, the most able and those in whose consciousness the nation, in -the past, present and future is most adequately reflected; secondly, by -means of the party system, which ensures vigorous criticism and full -discussion of all proposals, under a system of traditional conventions -evolved for the regulation of such discussions;--in these two ways the -principal vices of collective deliberation are corrected, and the formal -deliberations and decisions of the nation are raised to a higher plane -than the collective deliberations of any assembly of men lacking such -traditional organisation could possibly attain. The part played by -unwritten tradition in the working of the British constitution is of -course immense, as for example, the existence and enormous prestige of -the cabinet, and the tradition that a party coming into power must -respect the legislation of the party previously in power. Without this -last, representative government, or at any rate the party system, would -be impossible. The smooth working of the system depends entirely upon -the influence of these and similar traditions which exist only in the -minds of men. Or, take as another example, the tradition of absolute -impartiality on the part of the Speaker and of loyal acceptance of his -rulings by every member of the House; or the tradition which -distinguishes sharply between political and private relations, in virtue -of which the parties to a most bitter political strife may and very -generally do remain in perfectly friendly private relations. - -These and other such traditions, which secure the efficient working of -the organisation for national deliberation, all rest in turn upon a -traditional and tacit assumption--namely, the assumption that both -parties are working for the good of the nation as they conceive and -understand it, that both parties have this common end and differ only in -their judgment as to the means by which it can best be achieved. They -rest also on the traditional and tacit admission that one's own -judgment, and that of one's party, may be mistaken, and that in the long -run the legislation which any party can effect is an expression of the -organised national mind and is therefore to be respected. It is this -acquiescence in accomplished legislation in virtue of this tacit -assumption which gives to the decisions of Parliament the status, not -merely of the expression of the will of a bare majority, but of the -expression of the will of practically the whole nation. Underlying the -stability of the whole system, again, is the tradition, sedulously -fostered and observed by the best and leading minds, that the _raison -d'etre_ and purpose of the representative parliament is to organise, and -to give the most complete possible expression to, the national mind and -will; and that no constitutional change or change of procedure is -justifiable unless it tends to the more complete realisation of these -objects. - -In virtue of these traditions our Parliament and Press constitute -undoubtedly the best means for effecting organisation of the national -mind in its deliberative aspect that has yet been evolved; and we should -remember this when we feel inclined to gird at the 'great talking shop,' -at the slowness of its procedure and at the logical absurdities of the -two-party system; and, above all, we should realize how valuable and -worthy of conservation are these scarcely formulated traditions, for -they are absolutely essential to its efficiency. It is just because the -efficiency of the deliberative organisation of a nation depends upon the -force of such traditions, that, though it is possible to take the system -of parliamentary representation and establish it by decree or plebiscite -in a nation which has hitherto had no such deliberative organisation, it -is not possible to make it work smoothly and efficiently amongst such a -people. Hence, although almost every civilised nation has done its best -to imitate the British system of parliamentary government, hardly any -one has made a success of it; and, in nearly all, it is in constant -danger of being superseded by some more primitive form of government--one -need only mention Mexico, Portugal, Russia, France, Austria-Hungary. In -all these countries, and even in America, there seems to be already a -not very remote possibility of the supersession of parliamentary -government by a dictatorship--a process which has actually occurred in -many of the municipal governments of America, and the fear of which has -constantly checked the smooth working of the parliamentary system in -France. - -As a single illustration of the way in which the conditions we have been -considering affect the collective acts of the nation, consider what -happened at the time of the Russian outrage in the North Sea during the -Russo-Japanese war. When a Russian fleet fired upon our fishing boats -doing considerable damage to them, the means of communication were -sufficiently developed among us to allow of the action and reaction of -all on each which produces the characteristic results of collective -mental action, the exaltation of emotion, the suggestibility, the sense -of irresponsible power; and, in the absence of the deliberative -organisation which, by concentrating influence and responsibility in the -hands of a few of the best men, controlled and modified this collective -action, we should have rushed upon the Russian fleet and probably have -brought on a general European war. The control and counteraction of this -kind of outburst of collective emotion and impulsive action is one of -the heaviest responsibilities of those to whom predominant influence is -accorded. - -It is only in virtue of the strong organisation of the national mind -resting upon these long traditions of parliamentary government, that at -such a time control of the popular emotion and impulse is possible. And -the weaker and less efficient is such traditional organisation, the more -does any such incident tend to provoke a collective manifestation which -approximates in its uncontrollable violence and unconsidered -impulsiveness to the behaviour of an unorganised crowd. Hence -governments, where the democratic principle is acknowledged but the -traditional organisation is less strong, are constantly in danger of -having their hands forced by some outburst of popular passion--as in -France. - -It is worth noting that, when Aristotle inveighed against democracy as -an evil form of government, the only form of democratic government he -had in mind was government by the voices of a mob gathered together in -one place and lacking all the safeguards which, as we have seen, render -our British national deliberations so much superior to those of a mere -crowd of persons of equally good average capacity and character. - -But it is not only in the formal deliberations of the nation that -internal organisation, resting on tradition, secures the predominance of -the influence of the best and ablest minds. The same is true of all -national thought and feeling. There exists in every great nation the -vague influence we call public opinion, which is the great upholder of -right and justice, which rewards virtue and condemns vice and -selfishness. Public opinion exists only in the minds of individuals (for -we have rejected, provisionally at least, the conception of a collective -consciousness); yet it is a product not of individual, but of -collective, mental life. And it has in any healthy nation far higher -standards of right and justice and tolerance than the majority of -individuals could form or maintain; that is to say, it is in these -respects far superior to an opinion which would be the mere resultant or -algebraic sum of the opinions of all the living individuals. In -reference to any particular matter its judgment is far superior to that -of the average of individuals, and superior probably in many cases to -that which even the best individuals could form for themselves. - -How does public opinion come to be superior to individual and to average -opinion? There seems to be something paradoxical in the statement. - -The fact is of the utmost importance; for public opinion is the ultimate -source of sanctions of all public acts, the highest court of appeal -before which every executive act performed in the name of the nation -must justify itself. If public opinion were merely the immediate -expression of the collective feelings and judgments of an unorganised -mass of men, its verdicts would be (as we have seen) inferior to those -of the average individuals, whereas, as a matter of fact, its -expressions are much superior to those of the average individuals. - -The influence of public opinion is especially clear and interesting in -its relations to law. In this country it is not made by law, but makes -law. Where law is imposed and long maintained by the authority of -despotic power, it will of course mould public opinion; but, in any -progressive highly organised nation, law and the lawyers are always one -or two or more generations behind public opinion. The most progressive -body of law formally embodies the public opinion of past generations -rather than of the generation living at the time. - -The fact of the superiority of public opinion is generally admitted and -various explanations are current, for the most part very vague and -incomplete. There is the mystical explanation embodied in the dictum -that the voice of the people is the voice of God. A rather less vague -explanation is that adopted by Mr Beattie Crozier[101] (among others). -It is said that the average man carries within him a germ of an ideal -of justice and right, and that he applies this to the criticism or -approval of the actions of other men; though he often fails to apply it -to his own actions, because, where his own interests are concerned, he -is apt to be the sport of purely egoistic impulses. - -But this explanation is only partially true. It represents the average -man as more hypocritical than he really is, and as falling farther below -the standards he acknowledges than he actually does fall. It leaves -unexplained the fact that he has this sentiment for an ideal of justice -and right; and it proceeds on a false assumption as to the nature of the -problem, in assuming that men judge the actions of other men by higher -standards than those which they apply to their own conduct; whereas this -is by no means generally true. - -Is it, then, that superior abilities, which enable a man to gain -prestige and to impress his ideas and sentiments upon his fellow men and -so to influence public opinion, are commonly combined with a natural -superiority of moral sentiment, with a love of right and a hatred of -injustice? There may be some degree of such natural correlation of -superior abilities with superior moral qualities, but the supposition -seems very doubtful; and certainly, if it exists, it is not sufficient -to account for the elevation of public opinion. We frequently see -consummate ability combined with most questionable moral sentiments, as -in Napoleon and many other historic personages. - -The true explanation is, I submit, to be found in the basal fact that -the moral sentiments are essentially altruistic, while the immoral and -non-moral sentiments are in the main self-regarding[102]. Hence, the -person who has great abilities but is lacking in moral sentiments and -altruism applies his abilities to secure his personal satisfactions and -aggrandisement; and, in so far as he aims at affecting the minds of -others, he tries only to secure their obedience to his commands and -suggestions, to inspire them with deference, admiration, fear and awe, -and to evoke an outward display of these feelings. But, as to the ideas -and sentiments of the people in general, save in so far as they affect -his own gratification, he cares nothing. Accordingly we never find great -abilities deliberately, consistently and directly applied to the -degradation of public opinion and morals, save occasionally in relation -to some particular end. And we find few or no great works of literature -and art deliberately aiming at such degradation. - -But with those persons in whom great abilities are naturally combined -with moral disposition the case is very different. The moral disposition -is essentially altruistic; it is concerned for the welfare of others, of -men in general. Hence such a man deliberately applies his abilities to -influence the minds of others. The exertion of such influence is for him -an end in itself. He seeks and finds his chief satisfaction in exerting -an influence, as wide and deep as possible, over the minds of men; not -merely in evoking fear or admiration of himself, but in inspiring in -them the same elevated sentiments and sympathies which he finds within -himself. - -For this reason such men as G. F. Watts, Carlyle and Ruskin exert a much -greater and more widespread and lasting influence over the minds of men -than do equally able men who are devoid of moral disposition; for the -former make the exertion of this influence their chief end, while the -others care not at all about the state of public opinion and the minds -of the mass. Still less does the non-moral man of great ability strive -with all his powers to make others act upon base motives like his own -and to degrade their sentiments; rather, he sees that he can better -accomplish his selfish ends if other men are unlike himself and are -governed by altruistic sentiments; and he sees also that he can better -attain his ends if he does lip-service to altruistic ideals; and he is, -therefore, apt to exert whatever direct influence he has over the -sentiments of men in the same direction as the moral leaders, praising -the same actions, upholding in words the same ideals. In this way the -men of great abilities, but of immoral or non-moral character, actually -aid the moral leaders to some extent in their work; whereas under no -conditions is the relation reversed; the moral leaders never praise or -acquiesce in bad actions, but always denounce them and use their -influence against them. - -It follows that, in a well organised nation, public opinion, which is -formed and maintained so largely by the influence of leading -personalities, will usually be more in conformity with the sentiments of -the best men than of the average man, will be above rather than below -private opinion. For, if the bad and the good men of exceptional powers -were equal in numbers and capacity, the sum of their influences tending -directly to exalt public opinion would be enormously greater than the -sum of their influences tending to degrade it; and, as a matter of fact, -the influence for good of a few altruistic leaders is able to outweigh -the degrading influences of a much larger number of purely selfish men -of equally great capacities, and is able to maintain a high standard of -public opinion. - -We have distinguished a formal and an informal organisation of the -national deliberative processes, the latter expressing itself as public -opinion. These two organisations co-exist and are, of course, not -altogether independent of one another; yet they may be to a considerable -extent independent; though the more intimate the functional relations -and the greater the harmony between them, the healthier will be the -national life. - -We may note in passing an interesting difference in respect to -organisation of the national mind between the English and the American -peoples, a difference which illustrates this relative independence of -the formal and informal organisations. - -In England both the formal and informal organisations have achieved a -pretty good level; in both cases the best minds are enabled to exert and -have long exerted a dominant influence; and the interaction between the -two organisations is very intimate. But in America, while the informal -organisation expressed in public opinion seems to be very highly -developed, the formal organisation is much inferior; it has not yet such -traditions as give the greatest influence to the best minds and embody -the effects of their influence. And the better Americans tend to value -lightly the formal organisation, to take no part in the working of it, -deliberately to ignore it, and to rely rather upon public opinion to -repress any evils when they are in danger of reaching an intolerable -development. - -Both in the formal organisation of the national mind, which is the -parliamentary or other national assembly, and in the informal -organisation which is public opinion, we see, then, that (in the nation -of higher civilisation at least) organisation results in a raising of -the collective mental process above the level of the average minds, -because it gives a predominant influence to the best minds who form and -maintain the traditions, especially the moral traditions; and these -press upon the minds of all members of the community from their earliest -years, moulding them more or less into conformity with themselves, -fostering the better, repressing the purely egoistic, tendencies. - -And the ideal organisation after which we ought to strive, is that which -would give the greatest possible influence of this sort to the best -minds, an influence which consists not in merely organising and -directing the energies of the people in the manner most effective for -material or even scientific progress, as in modern Germany; but one -which, by moulding the sentiments and guiding the reasoning of the -people in all matters, public and private alike, secures their consent -and agreement and the co-operation of their wills in all affairs of -national importance. - -When such organisation is in any degree attained and a more or less -consistent system of national traditions is embodied in the political, -religious, literary, and scientific culture, which moulds in some degree -the minds of all men, the national mind clearly becomes, as we said in -an earlier chapter, a system of interacting mental forces which are not -merely tendencies of the living members of the nation, but are also, in -an even greater degree, the ideas and tendencies of the dead; and we see -also that in such a people the national consciousness is most truly -embodied, not in the minds of the average men, but in the minds of the -best men of the time. - -The term 'public opinion' is sometimes, perhaps generally, used in a -looser and wider sense than the meaning implied in the foregoing pages. -It is used in the looser sense by President Lowell in his _Public -Opinion and Popular Government_. By 'public opinion' he seems to mean -simply the algebraic sum or balance of individual opinions; he writes -"the opinion of the whole people is only the collected opinions of all -the persons therein[103]." In accordance with this view, he regards -representative institutions as merely one means by which this sum of -opinions may be collected and recorded. And he seems to be prepared to -regard the 'referendum' or the 'initiative' in any of their forms, or -other methods of direct legislation, as equally good methods, if only -all individuals would take the trouble to register their votes upon -every question proposed to them. He is aware, of course, that this can -hardly be expected of persons who have other interests and occupations -than the purely political, and that the direct methods are therefore -impracticable as general methods of legislation. If it were true that -representative institutions do and should merely collect and record the -individual opinions of all members of the public, then it is obvious -that each representative should be merely a delegate sent to record the -votes of the majority of his constituents. Whereas, if representative -institutions should, and in various degrees do, constitute the formal -deliberative organisation of the national mind, through which national -deliberation and judgment are raised to a higher plane than that of a -mere crowd, it follows that the representative should exert his own -powers of reasoning and judgment, aided by his special knowledge and -equipment, by the special sources of information that he enjoys, in the -light of the discussions in which he takes part, and influenced by all -those political traditions whose force he experiences in exceptional -fulness by reason of his priviledged position. President Lowell, in -discussing the functions of the representative, does not decide in -favour of the former view, as consistency should perhaps lead him to do; -thereby showing that he is not wholly committed to the individualist -view. He discusses the question whether the member of Parliament or -Congress should regard himself as representing the interests of his -constituents alone, or as concerned primarily and chiefly with the -interests of the whole people; and he rightly inclines to the latter -view. This is not quite the same distinction as that which is insisted -upon in these pages. Even if each representative were concerned only for -the welfare of the nation as a whole, yet so long as he regarded it as -his sole function to vote as he believes the majority of the citizens -would vote in any process of direct legislation, he would fall short of -the highest duty which is laid upon him by his position--namely, not -merely that of recording the opinion of the majority, but that of taking -part in the organised deliberative activities of the national mind by -which it arrives at judgments and decisions of a higher order than any -purely individual, or algebraic sum of individual, judgments and -decisions[104]. - -Public opinion, in the sense in which I have used the words in this -chapter (which seems to me the only proper use of them) is, then, not a -mere sum of individual opinions upon any particular question; it is -rather the expression of that tone or attitude of mind which prevails -throughout the nation and owes its quality far more to the influence of -the dead than of the living, being the expression of the moral -sentiments that are firmly and traditionally established in the mind of -the people, and established more effectively and in more refined forms -in the minds of the leaders of public opinion than in the average -citizen. This tone of the national mind enables it to arrive at just -judgments on questions of right and wrong, of duty and honour and public -desert; though it may have little bearing upon such practical questions -as bimetallism, tariff reform, or railway legislation. The current use -of the term, in this country at least, does, I think, recognise that -public opinion properly applies only to the sphere of moral judgments -and can and should have no bearing upon the practical details of -legislation. Public opinion is, both in its development and in its -operations, essentially collective; it is essentially the work of the -group mind. Its accepted standards of value are slowly built up under -the influence of the moral leaders of past ages; and, in the application -of those standards to any particular question, the influence of the -moral leaders of the time makes itself felt. I have kept in mind in the -foregoing pages the public opinion of the nation; but every community, -every association, every enduring group has its own public opinion, -which, though it is influenced by, and indeed is, as it were, a branch -of, the main stem of national public opinion and is therefore of the -same fibre and texture, has nevertheless its own peculiar tone and -quality, especially in regard to the moral questions with which each -group is specially concerned. - - - - -PART III - -THE DEVELOPMENT OF NATIONAL MIND AND CHARACTER - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -INTRODUCTORY - - -In the first Part of this book we have reviewed the most general -principles of collective mental life, beginning with the unorganised -crowd as affording the simplest example, considering then an army as the -simplest example of the profound modifications of collective mental life -effected by organisation of the group. In the second Part we passed on -to apply these principles to the understanding of the mind of the nation -as the most important, complex, and interesting of all types of the -group mind. - -In the third Part I take up the consideration in a general way of the -processes by which national mind and character are gradually built up -and shaped in the long course of ages. For, just as we cannot understand -individual minds, their peculiarities and differences, without studying -their development, so we cannot hope to understand national mind and -character and the peculiarities and differences of nations, without -studying the slow processes through which they have been built up in the -course of centuries. - -In an earlier chapter, in connexion with the question of the importance -of homogeneity of mental qualities as a condition of the existence of -the national mind, I argued that race has really considerable influence -in moulding the type of national mind. I recognized that differences of -innate qualities between races, at any rate between allied subraces, are -not great, and that they can be, and generally are, almost completely -over-ridden and obscured in each individual by the moulding power of the -social environment in which he grows up; but I urged that these racial -qualities are very persistent, and that they exert a slight but constant -pressure or bias upon the development of all that constitutes social -environment, upon the forms of institutions, customs, traditions, and -beliefs of every kind, so that the effect of such slight but constant -bias accumulates from generation to generation, and in the long run -exerts an immense influence. - -One way of treating the part played by the racial mental qualities in -the development of the national mind would be to attempt to define the -racial or innate peculiarities of the peoples existing at the present -time, and to assume that these peculiarities were produced in the remote -past, before the formation of nations began, and that they have -persisted unchanged throughout the period of the development of nations. -Something of this sort was proposed by Walter Bagehot in his _Physics -and Politics_. He distinguished in the development of peoples two great -periods--on the one hand the race-making period, which roughly -corresponds to the whole prehistoric period, and on the other hand the -nation-making period, which roughly corresponds to the historic period. -This distinction has undoubtedly a certain validity. - -It seems probable that man was evolved from his prehuman ancestry as a -single stock, probably a stock somewhat widely distributed in the heart -of the Eurasian continent, or possibly in Africa according to the recent -view of some authors, or in the area which is now the Indian Ocean. If -this be true, it follows that the differentiation of the mental and -physical qualities of the principal human races, the differentiation of -the white and black and yellow and brown races, as well as of the chief -subraces, such as the Semitic, the races of Europe--the _Homo Europaeus_, -_Alpinus_ and _Mediterraneus_--was the work of the immensely prolonged -prehistoric period. For these races and subraces, as we now know them, -seem to have been in existence and to have had recognisably and -substantially the same leading qualities, both mental and physical, that -they now have, before the beginning of the historic period. - -The racial differentiation during the prehistoric period must have been -much greater than during the historic period; and this was not only -because the former period was immensely longer, but also because, in all -probability, the rate of racial change has been on the whole slower in -the historic period. - -The differentiation of racial types in the prehistoric period must have -been in the main the work of differences of physical environment, -operating directly by way of selection, by way of the adaptation of each -race to its environment through the extermination of the strains least -suited to exist under those physical conditions. But this process, this -direct moulding of racial types by physical environment, must have been -well nigh arrested as soon as nations began to form. For the formation -of nations implies the beginning of civilisation; and civilisation very -largely consists in the capacity of a people to subdue their physical -environment, or at least to adapt the physical environment to men's -needs to a degree that renders them far less the sport of it than was -primitive man; it consists, in short, in replacing man's natural -environment by an artificial environment largely of his own choice and -creation. - -In a second and perhaps even more important way, the formation of -nations with the development of civilisation modified and weakened the -moulding influence of the physical environment; namely, it introduced -social co-operation in an ever increasing degree, so that the perpetual -struggle of individuals and of small family groups with one another and -with nature was replaced by a co-operative struggle of large communities -against the physical environment and with one another. And in this -process those members of each community who, by reason of weakness, -general incapacity, or other peculiarity, would have been liable to be -eliminated under primitive conditions became shielded in an ever -increasing degree by the powers of the stronger and more capable against -the selective power of nature and against individual human forces. And, -although within the community the rivalry of individuals and families -still went on, it was no longer so much a direct struggle for existence, -but rather became more and more a struggle for position in the social -scale; and failure in the struggle no longer necessarily meant death, or -even incapacity to leave an average number of descendants. That is to -say, primitive man's struggle for existence against the forces of nature -and against his fellow men, which made for racial evolution and -differentiation through survival of those fittest to cope with various -environments, tended to be replaced by a struggle which no longer made -for racial evolution towards a higher type, and which may even have made -for race-deterioration, at the same time that civilisation and national -organisation continued to progress. - -We may, then, recognise a certain truth in Bagehot's distinction of two -great periods, the race-making and the nation-making periods. -Nevertheless, it would not be satisfactory to follow the course -suggested above and simply assume certain racial characters as given -fixed data without further consideration. For, firstly, it is -interesting and perhaps not altogether unprofitable to indulge in -speculations on the race-making processes of the prehistoric period. -Secondly, although it seems likely that racial changes have been in the -main slower and on the whole relatively slight in the historic period, -yet they have not been altogether lacking; and, in proportion to their -magnitude, such changes as have occurred have been of great importance -for national life; and changes of this kind are still playing their part -in shaping the destinies of nations. Possible racial changes of mental -qualities must therefore be considered, when we seek to give a general -account of the conditions of the development of nations. - -On the other hand, we must reject root and branch the crude idea, which -has a certain popular currency, that the development of civilisation and -of nations implies a parallel evolution of individual minds. That idea -we have already touched upon and rejected in a previous chapter, where -we arrived at the conclusion that there is no reason to suppose the -present civilised peoples to be on the whole innately superior to their -barbaric ancestors. - -If we use the word 'tradition' in the widest possible sense to denote -all the intellectual and moral gains of past generations, in so far as -they are not innate but are handed on from one generation to another by -the personal intercourse of the younger with the older generation, and -if we allow the notion of tradition to include all the institutions and -customs that are passed on from generation to generation, then we may -class all the changes of a people that constitute the evolution of a -national character under the two heads: _evolution of innate qualities_ -and _evolution of traditions_. Using the word 'tradition' in the wide -sense just now indicated, the traditions of a people may be said to -include the recognised social organisation of the whole people into -classes, castes, clans, phratries, or groups of any kind, whose -relations to one another and whose place in the national system are -determined by law, custom and conventions of various kinds. This part of -the total tradition is relatively independent of the rest, and we may -usefully distinguish the development of such social organisation as -social evolution--giving to the term this restricted and definite -meaning--and we may set it alongside the other two conceptions as of -co-ordinate value. - -If we thus set apart for consideration under a distinct head the -evolution of social organisation, the rest of the body of national -traditions may be said to constitute the civilisation of a people. For -the civilisation of a people at any time is essentially the sum of the -moral and intellectual traditions that are living and operative among -them at that particular time. We are apt in a loose way to consider the -civilisation of a people to consist in its material evidences; but it is -only in so far as these material evidences, the buildings, industries, -arts, products, machinery, and so forth, are the expression and outcome -of its mental state that they are in any degree a measure of its -civilisation. We may realize this most clearly by considering the case -of a people on which the material products of civilisation have been -impressed from without. Thus the peasants of India live amongst, and -make use of, and benefit materially by, the railways and irrigation -works created by their British rulers, and are protected from invasion -and from internal anarchy by the British military organisation and -equipment; and they play a subordinate though essential part in the -creation and maintenance of all these material evidences of -civilisation. But these material evidences are not the expression of the -mental state of the peoples of India, and form no true part of their -civilisation; and, in fact, they affect their civilisation astonishingly -little; although if these products of a higher civilisation should be -maintained for a long period of time they would, no doubt, produce -changes of their civilisation, probably tending in some degree to -assimilate their mental state to that of Western Europe. - -We may, then, with advantage distinguish between the social organisation -and the civilisation of a people. In doing so we are of course making an -effort of abstraction, which, though it results in an artificial -separation of things intimately related, is nevertheless useful and -therefore justifiable. In a similar way the progress of civilisation may -be distinguished from social evolution. Social evolution is profoundly -affected by the progress of civilisation, and in turn reacts powerfully -upon it; for any given social organisation may greatly favour or -obstruct the further progress of civilisation. There could have been no -considerable advance of civilisation without the evolution of some -social organisation; but that the two things are distinct is clear, when -we reflect that there may be a very complex social organisation, -implying a long course of social evolution, among a people that has -hardly the rudiments of civilisation. Extreme instances of social -organisation in the absence of civilisation are afforded by some animal -societies--for example, societies of ants, bees, and wasps. Among -peoples, the native tribes of Australia illustrate the fact most -forcibly. They are at the very bottom of the scale of civilisation; yet -it has been discovered that they have a complex and well-defined social -organisation, which can only have been achieved by a long course of -social evolution. These people are divided into totem clans, which -clans are grouped in phratries, each individual being born, according to -well recognised rules, into a clan of which he remains a life-long -member; and his membership in the clan and phratry involves certain -well-defined rights and obligations, and well-defined relations to other -persons, especially as regards marriage; and these rights, obligations -and relations are recognised and rigidly maintained throughout immense -areas. - -On the other hand, although no people has attained any considerable -degree of civilisation without considerable social organisation, -nevertheless we can at least imagine a people continuing to enjoy a high -civilisation, practising and enjoying much of the arts, sciences, -philosophy, and literature, which we regard as the essentials of -civilisation, yet retaining a bare minimum of social organisation. And -this state of affairs is not only conceivable, but is held up as a -practicable ideal by philosophical anarchists such as Tolstoi and -Kropotkin; and it is, I think, true to say that the American nation -presents an approximation to this condition. - -Again, a very high state of civilisation may co-exist with a relatively -primitive social organisation. Thus the civilisation of Athens in the -classical age was equal to, or even superior to, our own in many -respects; yet the social organisation was very much less highly evolved. -It had hardly emerged from the barbaric patriarchal condition, and had -at its foundation a cruel system of slavery[105]; and it had also -another great point of inferiority--namely, the very restricted number of -persons included in the social system. These deficiencies, this -rudimentary character, of its social organisation was the principal -cause of the instability and brief endurance of that brilliant -civilisation. - -We have so far distinguished three principal factors or groups of -factors in the evolution of national mind and character: (1) Evolution -of innate or racial qualities: (2) Development of civilisation: (3) -Social evolution, or the development of social organisation. - -Now the first two of these we may with advantage divide under two -parallel heads, the heads of intellectual and moral development. No -doubt, the intellectual and the moral endowment of a people continually -react on each other; and many of the manifestations of the national mind -are jointly determined by the intelligence and the morality of a people; -especially perhaps is this true of their religion and their art. -Nevertheless, it is clear that we can distinguish pretty sharply -between the intellectual and the moral traditions of a people; and that -these may vary independently of one another to a great extent. A rich -and full intellectual tradition may go with a moral tradition of very -low level, as in the Italian civilisation of the renascence; and a very -high moral tradition with a relative poverty of the intellectual, as in -the early days of the puritan settlements of New England. - -The same distinction between the intellectual and the moral level is -harder to draw in the case of the racial qualities of a people, but it -undoubtedly exists and is valid in principle, no matter how difficult in -practice to deal with. - -We have, then, to distinguish five classes of factors, five heads under -which all the factors which determine the evolution of national -character may be distributed. They are - - (1) Innate moral disposition } racial qualities. - (2) Innate intellectual capacities } - (3) Moral tradition } national civilisation. - (4) Intellectual tradition } - (5) Social organisation. - -Every nation that has advanced from a low level to a higher level of -national life has done so in virtue of development or progress in one or -more of these respects. And a principal part of our task, in considering -the evolution of national mind and character, is to assign to each of -these its due importance and its proper place in the whole complex -development. - -The distinction between the racial and the traditional level of a people -is too often ignored; chiefly, perhaps, for the reason that it has -usually been assumed that whatever is traditional becomes innate and -racial through use. Since in recent years it has been shown that this -assumption is very questionable, a number of authors have recognised the -importance of the distinction as regards the intellectual qualities of a -people; but, as regards the moral qualities, the distinction is still -very generally overlooked. - -The neglect of these distinctions between the innate and the traditional -has in great measure vitiated much of the keen dispute that has been -waged over the question whether the progress of civilisation depends -primarily on intellectual or on moral advance. For example, T. H. Buckle -and Benjamin Kidd agreed in recognising clearly the distinction between -the innate and the traditional intellectual status of a people; and they -agreed in maintaining that we have no reason to believe that in the -historic period any people has made any considerable advance in innate -intellectual capacity; and that any such advance, if there has been any, -has not been a principal factor in the progress of civilisation. But -they differed extremely in that Buckle maintained that the primary cause -of all progress of national life is the improvement of its intellectual -tradition, that is, increase in the quantity and the worth of its stock -of knowledge and accepted beliefs, and improvements in methods of -intellectual operation; and he held that improvements of morals and of -social organisation have been secondary results of these intellectual -gains. Kidd, on the other hand[106], maintained that the progress of -European civilisation has been primarily due to an improvement of the -morality of peoples; that this has led to improvement of social -organisation; and that this in turn has been the essential condition of -the progress of the intellectual tradition, because it has secured a -stable social environment, a security of life, a free field for the -exercise of intellectual powers; in the absence of which conditions the -intellectual powers of a nation cannot effectively organise themselves -and apply themselves to the understanding of man and nature, or to -securing the traditional perpetuation of the gains which they may -sporadically achieve. We have to examine these views and try to -determine what truth they contain, and to show that they are not wholly -opposed but can in some measure be combined. - -I propose to make first a very brief critical survey of some of the most -notable attempts that have been made to account for racial qualities, -and I shall try to supplement and harmonise these as far as possible. We -may with advantage consider at the outset the race-making period, and -afterwards go on to consider changes of racial qualities in the historic -period. This Part of the book is necessarily somewhat speculative, but -its interest and importance for our main topic may justify its -inclusion. - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -THE RACE-MAKING PERIOD - - -Let us now see what can be said about the process of racial -differentiation which, as we saw in the foregoing chapter, was in its -main features accomplished in the prehistoric or race-making period. We -cannot hope to reach many positive conclusions, but rather merely to -discuss certain possibilities and probabilities in regard to the main -factors of the differentiation of racial mental types. - -I would point out at once that the answer to be given to the -question--Are acquired qualities transmitted? Are the effects of use -inherited? is all important for our topic. I do not propose to discuss -that difficult question now. I will merely say that the present state of -biological science makes it seem doubtful whether such inheritance takes -place, and that, although the question remains open, we are not -justified in assuming an affirmative answer; that, therefore, we must -not be satisfied with any explanation of racial and national -characteristics based upon this assumption; and in the following -discussion I shall provisionally assume the truth of the Neo-Darwinian -principle that acquired modifications are not transmitted. - -Assuming, as we must, that all peoples are descended from some one -original stock, the problem is--Can anything be said of the conditions -which have determined the differentiation of races of different mental -constitutions, of the development of racial qualities which, having -become relatively fixed, have led to the evolution of different types of -national organisation and culture? And especially we have to consider -the conditions which have produced, and may still produce in the future, -the qualities that make for the progress of nations. - -We must suppose a certain social organisation to have obtained among -that primitive human stock from which all races have been evolved, -probably an organisation in small groups based on the family under the -rule and leadership of a patriarch. - -It is possible that considerable divergences of social organisation may -have taken place, without any advance towards civilisation; such -divergences of social organisation must have tended to divert the -course of mental evolution along various lines; but they must themselves -have had their causes; they cannot in themselves be the ultimate causes -of divergence of racial mental types. - -Such ultimate causes of the differentiation of mental qualities must -have been of two orders only, so far as I can see: (1) differences of -physical environment; (2) spontaneous variations in different directions -of the innate mental qualities of individuals, especially of the more -gifted and energetic individuals of each people. - -In the mental evolution of animals these two factors are not -distinguishable. We may say that the main and perhaps the sole condition -of their evolution is the selection by the physical environment of -spontaneous favourable variations and mutations of innate mental -qualities; if we include under the term physical environment of the -species all the other animal and vegetable species of its habitat. For -it is only by its selective influence upon individual variations that -physical environment can determine differentiation of races. - -But with man the case is different; spontaneous variation not only -provides the new qualities which, by determining the survival of the -individual in his struggle for existence with the physical environment, -secure their own perpetuation by transmission to the after coming -generations. The new qualities determine mental evolution in another -manner, by a mode of operation which is almost completely absent in -animal evolution; namely, the spontaneous variations create a social -environment which profoundly modifies the influence of the physical -environment, and itself becomes a principal factor in the determination -of the trend of racial evolution. - -Man is distinguished from the animals above all things by his power of -learning. Whereas the behaviour of animals, even of the higher ones, -consists almost entirely of purely instinctive actions, innate modes of -response to a limited number of situations; man has an indefinitely -great capacity for acquiring new modes of response, and so of adapting -himself in new and more complex ways to an almost indefinite variety of -situations. And his new mental acquisitions are not made only by the -slow process of adaptation in the light of his own individual experience -of the consequences of behaviour of this and that kind; as are most of -the few acquisitions of the animals. By far the greater part of the -mental stock-in-trade by which his behaviour is guided is acquired from -his fellow men; it represents the accumulated experience of all the -foregoing generations of his race and nation. Man's life in society, -together with the great plasticity of his mind, its great capacity for -new adaptations, secures him this enormous advantage; the two things are -necessarily correlated. Without the plasticity of mind, his life in -society would benefit him relatively little. Many animals that lead a -social life in large herds or flocks are not superior, but rather -inferior, in mental power to animals that lead a more solitary life; and -indeed this seems to be generally true, as we see on comparing generally -the herbivorous gregarious animals with the solitary carnivores that -prey upon them. The social life of such animals, rendering individual -intelligence less necessary for protection and escape from danger, tends -actually against mental development. - -On the other hand, man's great plastic brain would be of comparatively -little use to him if he lived a solitary unsocial life. His great brain -is there to enable him to assimilate and make use of the accumulated -experience, the sum of knowledge and morality, which is traditional in -the society into which he is born a member; that is to say, the -development of social life, which depended so much upon language and for -the forwarding of which language came into existence, must have gone -hand in hand with the development of the great brain, which enables full -advantage to be secured from social co-operation and which, especially, -renders possible the accumulation of knowledge, belief, and traditional -sentiment. - -Now this traditional stock of knowledge and morality has been very -slowly accumulated, bit by bit; and every bit, every least new addition -to it, has been a difficult acquisition, due in the first instance to -some spontaneous variation of some individual's mental structure from -the ancestral type of mental structure. That is to say, throughout the -evolution of civilisation, progress of every kind, increase of knowledge -or improvement of morality, has been due to the birth of more or less -exceptional individuals, individuals varying ever so slightly from the -ancestral type and capable, owing to this variation, of making some new -and original adaptation of action, or of perceiving some previously -undiscovered relation between things. - -These new acquisitions, first made by individuals, are, if true or -useful, sooner or later imitated or accepted by the society of which the -original-minded individual is a member, and then, becoming incorporated -in the traditional stock of knowledge and morality, are thereby placed -at the service of all members of that society. - -Thus favourable spontaneous variations do not, as with the animals, -render possible mental evolution merely by conducing to the survival -of, and the perpetuation of the qualities of, those individuals in whom -the variations occur. They may do this, or they may not; but, in -addition and more importantly, they contribute to the stock of -traditional knowledge and morality, and so raise the social group as a -whole in the scale of civilisation; they render it more capable of -successfully contending against other groups and against the adverse -influence of the physical environment; and they promote the solidarity -of the group by adding to its stock of common tradition; thus the -acquisitions of each member benefit the group as a whole and all its -members, quite apart from any philanthropic purpose or intention of -producing such a result. - -The achievement of this unconscious undesigned solidarity of human -societies is one of two great steps in the evolution of the human race -by which the process is rendered very different from, and is raised to a -higher plane than, the mental evolution of the animal world. The second -and still more important step is one which is only just beginning to be -achieved in the present age; I shall have to touch on it in a later -chapter. - -The original or primary divergence of mental type between any two -peoples must, then, have been due to these fundamental causes--namely, -differences of physical environment and spontaneous variations of mental -structure, the latter adding to the traditional stock of knowledge and -belief, of moral precepts and sentiments. - -Intellectual or moral divergence produced by these two primary causes -would tend to determine the course of social evolution along different -lines and so to produce different types of social organisation. And -different social organisations thus produced would then react upon the -moral and intellectual life of the people to produce further divergence; -for example, one type of social organisation determined by physical -environment, say a well developed patriarchal system, may have made for -progress of intellect and morals; another, say a matriarchal -organisation, or one based on communal marriage, may have tended to -produce stagnation. - -As social evolution proceeded and brought about more extensive and more -complex forms of social organisation, which included, within any one -society or group, larger numbers of individuals in more effective forms -of association, social organisation must have assumed a constantly -increasing importance as a condition of mental evolution relatively to -all other factors, especially as compared with the influence of physical -environment; until, in the complex societies of the present time, it has -an altogether predominant importance. This truth is concisely stated in -the old dictum that "in the infancy of nations men shape the State; in -their maturity the State shapes the men." Accordingly, in considering -the mental evolution of peoples we must never lose sight of the -influence of social organisation. It follows that the conditions of the -mental evolution of man are immensely more complex than those of the -mental evolution of animals. - -We must recognise not only the selection, through survival in the -struggle for existence, of new mental qualities arising as spontaneous -variations of individual mental structure. This, which is the only, or -almost the only, process at work in the mental evolution of animals, is -immensely complicated and overshadowed in importance by two processes. -The first is the accumulation of knowledge and morality in traditional -forms. The traditional accumulation, which so far outweighs the mental -equipment possible to any individual isolated from an old society, not -only constitutes in itself a most important evolutionary product, but it -modifies profoundly the conditions of evolution of the individual innate -qualities of mind; for example, the greater and more valuable the stock -of traditional knowledge and morality becomes, the more does fitness to -survive consist in the capacity to assimilate this knowledge and to -conform to these higher moral precepts, the less does it consist in the -purely individualistic qualities, such as quickness of eye and ear, -fleetness of foot, or strength and skill of hand. Secondly, the -processes of natural selection are complicated by the social evolution, -which tends progressively to abolish the struggle for existence between -individuals, and to replace it by a struggle between groups; in which -struggle success is determined not only by the qualities of individuals, -but also very largely by the social organisation and by the traditional -knowledge and morality of the groups. - -Each variety of the human species, each race considered as a succession -of individuals having certain innate mental qualities, has been evolved, -then, not merely under the influence of the physical environment, like -the animal species, but also and to an ever increasing extent under the -influence of the social environment. The social environment we regard as -consisting of two parts; namely, the social organisation and the body of -social tradition; for these, though interdependent and constantly -interacting, may yet with advantage be kept apart in thought. We must, -then, bear constantly in mind the fact that man creates for himself an -environment which becomes ever more complex and influential, -overshadowing more and more in importance the physical environment. - -Here I would revert to some points of the analogy, drawn in Chapter X, -between the mind of a nation and that of an individual. The mind of an -individual human being develops by accumulating the results of his -experience; and so does that of a people. In this respect the analogy -holds good. But the development possible to an individual is strictly -limited in two ways. First, by the short duration of the material basis -of his mental life; secondly by the extent of his innate capacities. -Neither of these limitations applies to the national mind. Its material -basis is in principle immortal, because its individual components may be -incessantly renewed; and its development has no limit set to it by its -innate capacities, because these may be indefinitely extended and -improved. In these respects the national mind resembles the species -rather than the individual. - -The development of the national mind, and of the minds of those who -share in the mental life of the nation, thus combines the methods and -advantages of the development of individuals and of species, methods -which are essentially different. The result is that the mental -development of man, since his social life began, has been radically -different from that of the animals; it has been a social process; it has -been the evolution of peoples rather than of individuals. The evolution -of man as an individual has been wholly subordinated to that of peoples; -and it is incapable of being understood or profitably considered apart -from the development of the group mind. - -Assuming, as we must, that all the races of men are derived from a -common stock, it is obvious, I think, that the first differentiation of -racial types was determined almost exclusively by differences of -physical environment, and that the other conditions only very slowly -developed and did not assume their predominant importance until the time -which may be roughly defined as the beginning of the historic or -nation-making period. - -Physical environment affects the mental qualities of a people in three -ways: firstly, it directly influences the minds of each generation; -secondly, it moulds the mental constitution by natural selection, -adapting the race to itself; thirdly, it exerts indirect influence by -determining the occupations and modes of life and, through these, the -social organisation of a people. We may consider these three modes of -influence in turn. - -There has been much speculation on the direct influence of the physical -environment in moulding the mental type of a people, but little or -nothing can be said to be established. - -There is a fair concensus of opinion to the effect that what we may -call climate exerts an important influence. In climate the two factors -recognised as of chief importance are temperature and moisture. High -temperature combined with moisture certainly tends to depress the vital -activity of Europeans and to render them indolent, indisposed to -exertion of any kind. On the other hand, high temperature combined with -dryness of the atmosphere seems to have the effect of rendering men but -little disposed to continuous activity, and yet capable of great -efforts; it tends to produce a violent spasmodic activity. A cold -climate seems to dispose towards sustained activity and, when combined -with much moisture, to a certain slowness. - -These effects, which we ourselves experience and which we see produced -upon other individuals on passing from one climate to another, we seem -to see impressed upon many of the races which have long been subjected -to these climates; for example, the slow and lazy Malays have long -occupied the hottest moistest region of the earth. The Arabs and the -fiery Sikhs may be held to illustrate the effect of dry heat. The -Englishman and the Dutchman seem to show the effects of a moist cool -climate, a certain sluggishness embodied with great energy and -perseverance. - -In these and other cases, in which the innate temperament of a people -corresponds to the effects directly induced by their climate, it seems -natural to suppose that the innate temperament has been produced by the -transmission and accumulation from generation to generation of the -direct effects of the climate. The assumption is so natural that it has -been made by almost every writer who has dealt with the question. And -these instances of conformity of the temperament of peoples to the -direct effects of climate are sometimes offered as being among the most -striking evidences of the reality of hereditary transmission of acquired -qualities; and the argument is reinforced by instances of what seem to -be similar results produced by climate on physical types. Thus, it is -said that in North America a race characterised by a new specific -combination of mental and physical qualities is being rapidly formed; -and it seems to be well established that long slender hands are among -these features; for in Paris a specially long slender glove is made -every year in large quantities for the American market. Again, we see -apparently a change of physical type in the white inhabitants of -Australia. They seem to be becoming taller and more slender -'cornstalks'; and this is commonly regarded as the direct effect of -climate. - -Now, that a new race or subrace with a specific combination of qualities -should be forming in America is certainly to be expected from the fact -that the intimate blending of a number of European stocks has been going -on for some generations. But what gives special support to the -assumption that these new qualities are the direct effects of climate is -that these qualities, the physical at least, seem to be approximations -to the type of the Red Indians, the aboriginal inhabitants. And, it is -said, this approximation of type can only be due to hereditary -accumulation of the direct effects of the climate on individuals. - -Another way in which climate has been held to modify racial mental -qualities by direct action is through the senses, especially the eye. M. -Boutmy, in his book on the English people makes great play with this -principle[107]. He points out that the thick hazy state of the air, so -common in our islands, renders vague and dull all outlines and colours, -so that the eye does not receive that wealth of well-defined hues and -forms which give so great a charm to some more sunny lands, such as the -Mediterranean coast lands. Hence, he says, the senses become or remain -relatively dull, and the sense-perceptions slow and relatively -indiscriminating. Such relative deficiency of aesthetic variety and -richness in the appearance of the outer world produces secondarily a -further and deeper modification of mental type. In the lands where -nature surrounds man with an endless variety of rich and pleasing -scenes, he can find sufficient satisfaction in mere contemplation of the -outer world; and, when he takes to art production, he tends merely to -reproduce in more or less idealised forms the objects and scenes he -finds around him; his art tends to be essentially objective. On the -other hand, in the dull northern climes, man has not ever at hand these -sources of satisfaction in the mere contemplation of the outer world; -consequently he is driven back upon his own nature, to find his -satisfactions in a ceaseless activity of mind and body, but chiefly of -the latter. Hence, races so situated are characterised by great bodily -activity and their art and literature are essentially subjective. The -thick air, the monotony of vague form and colour, drive the mind to -reflection upon itself; and in art the objects of nature serve merely as -symbols by aid of which the mind seeks to express its own broodings. -"The painter paints with the intentions of the poet, the poet describes -or sings with the motives of the psychologist or moralist. All the -literature of imagination of the English shows us the internal reacting -incessantly upon the external with a singular power of transfiguration -and interpretation[108]." Hence also poetry is the privilege of a few -rare spirits and is for them the product of deep reflection, not a -simple lyrical expression in which all can equally share. - -It is certainly true that climate tends to produce these effects by its -direct action on individuals. Anyone who has lived for a time in the -southern climes must have noted these effects upon himself. But we have -no proof that the effects of climate are directly inherited. It suffices -to suppose that the direct effects are imposed afresh by the climate on -the minds of each generation. This view is borne out by the fact that -two races may live for many generations in the same climate and yet -remain very different in temperament in these respects; for example the -Irish climate is very similar to the English, perhaps even more misty -and damp; yet the Irish have much more wit and liveliness than the -English. And in every case in which adaptation to physical environment -has clearly become innate or racial, an explanation can be suggested in -terms of selection of spontaneous variations, or of crossing of races. -Thus, the approximation of the American people to the type of the -aboriginals, if it is actual, and some observers deny it, may well be -due to the small infusion of the native blood which has admittedly taken -place. It may well be that certain qualities of the Red Indian, for -example, the straight dark hair and prominent cheek bones, are what the -biologists call 'dominant characters' when the Indian is crossed with -the European; that is, qualities which always assert themselves in the -offspring, to the exclusion of the corresponding quality of the other -race involved in the cross. If that is so, a very small proportion of -Indian blood would suffice to make these features very common throughout -the population of America. As an exception to the supposed law of direct -hereditary adaptation to climate take the colour of the skin. The black -negroes live in the hot moist regions of Africa, and it has been said -that pigmentation is the hereditary effect of a hot moist climate. But -there are men of a different race who have long lived in an equally hot -and moist climate, but who do not show this effect--namely, tribes in the -heart of Borneo, right under the equator, whose skins are hardly darker -than the average English skins and less dark than the Southern -Europeans'. Take again the indolence of the peoples of warm hot climates -and the energy of peoples of colder climates. These certainly seem to be -racial qualities; but their distribution is adequately explained by the -indirect effect of physical environment exerted by way of natural -selection; and these differences of energy afford the best illustration -of such indirect action of physical environment in determining racial -mental qualities. - -Before considering the question further, let us note yet another way in -which the physical environment affects men's minds and has been supposed -directly to induce certain racial qualities. Buckle pointed out with -great force the influence on the mind of what he called the external -aspects of nature. He showed that where, as in India and the greater -part of Asia, the physical features of a country are planned upon a very -large scale; where the mountains are huge, where rivers are of immense -length and volume, where plains are of boundless extent, and the sun -very hot, there the forces of nature are exerted with an intensity that -renders futile the best efforts of man, at any rate of man in a state of -low civilisation, to cope with them. In such countries men are exposed -to calamities on an enormous scale, great floods, violent storms and -deluges of rain, earthquakes, excessive droughts resulting in famine and -plague; and they are exposed to the attacks of many dangerous animal -species, which are bred by the great heat in the dense and unconquerable -forests. These disasters have repeatedly occurred on a scale such that -in comparison with them the recent earthquake in California appears a -mere trifle. Millions have been destroyed in a few hours in some of the -floods of the Yellow River of China. - -The magnitude of these objects and the appalling and irresistible -character of such devastating forces produce, said Buckle, two principal -and closely allied effects upon the mind; they stimulate the imagination -to run riot in extravagant and grotesque fancies; at the same time, they -discourage any attempt to cope with these great forces and to understand -their laws, and thus keep men perpetually in fearful uncertainty as to -their fate; for they cannot hope to control it by their own unaided -efforts. - -Hence, the encouragement of superstition; hence, the dominance of a -degrading religion of fear throughout the greater part of such regions; -hence, the supremacy of priests and religious orders and the -discouragement of scientific reasoning. Hence, in the arts, the -literature, and the religion of India, we see a dominant tendency to the -grotesque, the enormous, the fearful; we see gods portrayed with many -arms, with three eyes and terrible visages. The legends of their heroes -contain monstrous details, as that they lived for many thousands or -millions of years. "All this," says Buckle, "is but a part of that love -of the remote, that straining after the infinite, and that indifference -to the present, which characterises every branch of Indian intellect. -Not only in literature, but also in religion and in art, this tendency -is supreme. To subdue the understanding, and indulge the imagination, is -the universal principle. In the principles of their theology, in the -character of their gods, and even in the form of their temples, we see -how the sublime and threatening aspects of the external world have -filled the mind of the people with those images of the grand and the -terrible, which they strive to reproduce in a visible form, and to which -they owe the leading peculiarities of their national culture."[109] - -That these peculiarities of the mental life of such peoples are causally -related with those terrible aspects of nature is, I think, sufficiently -established by Buckle. But if we admit this, there remain two questions: -(1) Have these tendencies become innate racial qualities? (2) If so, how -have they been rendered innate? Buckle did not raise these questions and -offered no opinion in regard to them. But he seems to have assumed that -these tendencies have become innate; and there is much to be said for -that view. Yet, if that could be shown conclusively, it still would not -prove inheritance of these acquired qualities. It may have resulted in -some such way as this: the physical environment stimulates the -imagination, and it represses the tendency to control imagination and -superstition by reason and calm inquiry after causes; acting thus upon -successive generations of men, it determines the peculiarities of the -religious system and of the art and literature of the people. -Individuals in whom the same tendencies are innately strong will then -flourish under such a system; whereas those whose innate tendencies are -in the direction of reason and scepticism will find the system -uncongenial, unfavourable for the exercise of their best powers; they -will fail to make their mark; they may, as in many instances of European -inquirers, actually have lost their lives or their liberty through the -religious zeal of those who maintain the traditional system. Thus the -social environment, working through long ages, may have constantly -determined a certain degree of selection of the innate tendencies -congenial to it, and a weeding out of the opposed tendencies; until the -former have predominated in the race[110]. - -We have here a very important principle which we must constantly bear in -mind--namely, that not only the physical environment, but also the -social environment, may determine the survival of those temperaments and -qualities of mind best fitted to thrive in it, and, by handicapping -those least fitted to it, may gradually bring the mental qualities of -the race into conformity with itself. We shall later see other examples -by which this principle is more clearly illustrated. - -We conclude that, while physical environment may act powerfully upon the -minds of individuals, moulding their acquired qualities in the three -ways noticed--namely, influencing the mind through bodily habit, through -the senses, and through the imagination--there is no sufficient evidence -that the acquired qualities so induced ever become innate or racial -characters by direct transmission. In those instances in which the -racial qualities approximate to these direct effects of physical -environment, it may well be because the physical environment has brought -about adaptation of the race by long continued selection of individuals, -or because it has determined peculiarities of social environment, which -in turn have brought about adaptation of the racial qualities by long -continued selection. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -THE RACE-MAKING PERIOD (_continued_) - - -We considered in our last chapter the principal modes in which physical -environment affects the character of a people--namely, (1) influence on -temperament exerted chiefly through climate acting upon the bodily -functions: (2) influence through the senses, exerting secondary effects -upon the higher mental processes: (3) direct influence on the -imagination. We concluded that these effects become innate in some -degree; though whether they are impressed on the race by direct -inheritance, or by processes of direct or of social selection, or in all -three ways, remains an open question. - -We distinguished, besides these direct modes of influence, two indirect -modes by which physical environment affects the mind and character of a -people: (1) by its selective action on individuals apart from its -influence upon their minds: (2) by determining occupations and social -organisation. We may consider them in turn. - -It is recognised, as I pointed out above, that the races inhabiting hot -moist countries are commonly indolent, while those of the moderately -cold and moist climates tend to be extremely active and energetic. - -This difference is well brought out by Mr Meredith Townsend in an essay -on the charm of Asia for the Asiatics[111]; and he is speaking not of -Asia in general but of Southern Asia. He says Asiatics "will not, under -any provocation, burden themselves with a sustained habit of taking -trouble. You might as well ask lazzaroni to behave like Prussian -officials." After quoting Thiers' description of the immense labours of -detailed administration which he supported while minister of State, he -says "No Asiatic will do that.... One half the weakness of every -Oriental government arises from the impossibility of finding men who -will act as M. Thiers did." These races, bred in the tropics, are in -fact incurable lotus-eaters, their chief desire is for the afternoon -life or, as is commonly said of the Malays throughout the Eastern -Archipelago, they are great leg-swingers, they prefer to undertake no -labour more arduous than sitting still swinging their legs. All this, -though more or less true of the tropical races in general, is -pre-eminently true of those inhabiting regions which are moist as well -as hot, the Malays, the Burmese, the Siamese, the Papuans, the Negroes -of the African jungle regions. - -Such peoples have failed to acquire the energy which leads men to -delight in activity for its own sake, not merely because a hot moist -climate inclines directly to indolence, but rather because the prime -necessities of life are to be had almost without labour; the heat -dispenses with the necessity for clothing and shelter, while the hot sun -and the moisture provide an abundance of vegetable food in response to a -minimum of labour. Hence, no man perishes through lack of energy to -secure the prime necessities of life; and there has been no great -weeding out of the indolent by severe conditions of life, such as alone -can produce an innately energetic race, one that loves activity for its -own sake. For the same reason these same peoples also exercise but -little foresight, they are naturally improvident; the abundance of -nature renders it possible to survive and propagate without any prudent -provision for the future. - -Contrast with these races the northerly races--in Asia the Japanese, -whose energy and industry we all recognise, and the northern Mongols or -Tartars, who have so often overrun and conquered with fire and sword the -less energetic peoples of the south, or the Goorkhas or Pathans of the -highlands of northern India. But more especially contrast with them the -English people. M. Boutmy rightly asserts that "the taste for and the -habit of effort must be regarded as the most essential attribute, the -profound and spontaneous quality, of the race[112]." It is displayed in -the English love of sport and adventure and travel, especially in such -recreations as mountain climbing, which is pre-eminently an English -sport; also throughout our social life, in the intensity of commercial -and industrial activity, often carried on ardently by men far removed -from any necessity of making money. In our political life, where a vast -amount of effort is constantly expended in achieving comparatively small -results, we always seem to prefer to achieve any reform by the methods -which give scope to and demand the greatest amount of public activity -and effort. It is shewn also in the immense amount of public service -rendered without remuneration, for the mere love of activity and the -exercise of power. It is very striking in English colonies in tropical -lands, and has been no doubt an important factor in our success in -tropical administration and in colonisation. - -Boutmy is inclined to attribute to this love of activity, as a secondary -effect, the dislike of the mass of Englishmen for generalisations and -for theoretical construction; for, he says, these are the results -naturally achieved by the reflective mind, whereas the English mind gets -no time for reflection, its attention is perpetually drawn off from -general principles by its tendency to pursue some immediate practical -end. Hence, he says, abstraction is subordinated to practical ends and -does not soar for its own sake. This truth is well illustrated by the -fact that all our English philosophers, Bacon, Hobbes, Locke, Mill, -Bentham, Spencer, etc., have been practical moralists, and have -conducted their investigations always with an eye to concrete -applications to the conduct of the State or of private life. - -Boutmy regards this love of activity, together with foresight and -self-control, as racial qualities engendered by the severity of the -climate, working chiefly by way of natural selection. In the prehistoric -period more especially, when man had little knowledge of means of -protection from climate and hardship such as have been developed by -civilised societies, those individuals who were deficient in these -qualities must have succumbed to the rigours of the climate, leaving -their more energetic fellows to propagate the race. - -That there is truth in the view is shown by the fact that the degree to -which the love of activity is developed seems to vary roughly with the -severity of the climate even among the closely allied races of Europe. -As we pass northward from the coast of the Mediterranean, we find the -quality more and more strongly marked; and it is in accordance with this -principle that the dominant power, the leadership in civilisation, has -passed gradually northwards in the historic period. Civilisation first -developed in the sub-tropical regions, in which the abundance of nature -first gave men leisure to devote themselves to things of the mind, to -contemplation and inquiry; while the northern races were still battling -as savages against the inclemency of the climate, were still being -ruthlessly weeded out by the rigorousness of the physical environment, -and so were being adapted to it, that is to say, were being rendered -capable of sustained and vigorous effort. But, as the means of subduing -nature and of protecting himself against nature have been developed by -man, the dominance has passed successively northwards to peoples whose -innate energy and love of activity were more highly developed in -proportion to the severity of the selection exerted upon many preceding -generations. - -The severe climate has not been the only cause of this evolution of an -energetic active type. No doubt military selection played its part also. -The Northern races of Europe, more particularly the Nordic, the -fair-haired long-headed race, underwent a prolonged and severe process -of such military group selection, before branches of it settled in our -island; and, among the qualities which must have tended to success and -survival in this process, energy and capacity for prolonged and frequent -effort, especially bodily effort, must have been one of the chief. -Still, even such group selection was probably a secondary result of the -direct climatic selection; for it must have been the love of activity -and enterprise that led these peoples perpetually to wander, and so to -come into conflicts with one another, conflicts in which the more -energetic would in the main survive and the less energetic succumb. In -part also it must have been determined in the third and the most -indirect manner in which physical environment shapes racial -qualities--namely, by determining occupations and modes of life, and -through these the forms of social organisation, both of which then react -upon the racial qualities. - -In illustration of this third mode of action of physical conditions, let -us take a striking difference of mental quality between the French and -the English peoples, and inquire how the difference has arisen; a -difference which is recognised by every capable observer who has -compared the two peoples and which has been of immense importance in -shaping the history of the modern world. I mean the greater sociability -of the French and the greater independence of the English, a greater -self-reliance and capacity for individual initiative. The difference -finds expression in every aspect of the national life of the two -peoples. The sociability and sympathetic character of the French, on -which they justly pride themselves[113], is the inverse aspect of their -lack of the characteristic English qualities, independence and -self-reliance. In political life the difference appears in the -centralised organisation of the French nation, every detail of -administration being controlled by the central power through a rigidly -organised hierarchy of officials, in a way that leaves no scope for -initiative and independence in local administrations. Connected with -this is the almost universal desire of educated men to become state -functionaries, parts of the official machinery of administration, and -the consequent excessive growth of this class of persons. - -The same quality of the French shows itself in the tendency to prefer -the monarchical rule of any man who shows himself capable of ruling, a -tendency which constantly besets the republican State with a -well-recognised danger. These are not local and temporary -manifestations, but have characterised the French nation throughout the -whole period of its existence. In the feudal period which preceded its -formation, there was considerable local independence; but the feudal -system was due to the dominant influence of Frankish chiefs, of the same -race as our Saxon forefathers, who overran most of France as a ruling -caste, but did not contribute any large element to the population, and -whose blood therefore has been largely swamped. It appears in the -greater violence among the French people of collective mental processes, -those of mobs, assemblies, factions, and groups of all kinds. Each -individual is easily carried away by the mass; there are none to -withstand the wave of contagion and, by so doing, to break and check its -force. - -In England on the other hand political activity has always been -characterised by extreme jealousy of the central power, and by the -tendency to achieve everything possible by local action and voluntary -private effort. All reforms are initiated from the periphery, instead of -from the centre as in France. Great institutions, the universities, -schools, colleges, hospitals, railways, canals, docks, insurance -companies, even water supplies and telephones and many other things -which, it would seem, should naturally and properly be undertaken by the -State, or other official public body, have been generally set on foot -and worked by individuals or private associations of individuals. Even -vast colonial empires--India, Rhodesia, Canada, Sarawak, Nigeria, North -Borneo--have been in the main acquired through the enterprise and efforts -of individuals or associations of individuals; the State only -intervening when the main work has been accomplished. - -In their religion, too, the English are markedly individualistic; our -numerous dissenting bodies have mostly dispensed with the centralised -official hierarchy which in Roman Catholic countries mediates between -God and man, and have insisted upon a direct communion with God; and we -have many little churches each of which governs itself in absolute -independence of every other. In the family relations the same difference -appears very strongly. The French family regards itself, and is -regarded by law, as a community which holds its goods in common; each -child has his legal claim upon his share, relies upon his family for -support in his struggle with the world, and is encouraged by his parents -to do so. In the English family, on the other hand, the father is a -supreme despot, who disposes of his property as he wills. The children -are not encouraged to look for further support, when once they become -adult, but are taught that they must go out into the world to seek their -fortunes unaided. At an early age, the English boy is usually thrust out -of the family into the life of a school in which, by his own efforts, he -must find and keep his position among his fellows; and he lives a life -which, compared with that of the French boy, is one of freedom and -independence. In the distribution of the people on the land we see the -same difference of mental qualities revealed. The French peasants are -for the most part congregated sociably in villages and small towns; the -English farmer builds his homestead apart upon his own domain. And this -determines one of the most striking differences in the aspect of the -rural districts of both countries. In the towns also the same tendencies -are clearly shown; in the separate little homes of the English and in -the large houses of the French shared by several families. - -It is in the expansion in the world of the two peoples that the effects -of this difference are most clearly expressed and assume the greatest -importance. The English race has populated a vast proportion of the -surface of the world, and rules over one-fifth of the total population. -Whereas the French people, who have conquered large areas, have never -succeeded in permanently colonising any considerable portion of their -conquests and they have failed to maintain their domination in many -regions where they have for a time established it. In every -extra-European region where they have come into conflict with the -English race they have been worsted. - -The secret of the difference in the expansion of the two peoples is the -difference of innate mental quality that we are considering, enhanced by -the differences of custom and of political and family organisation -engendered by it. For, like all other innate tendencies, the two to -which we are referring obtain accentuated expression through moulding -customs, institutions and social organisation in ways which foster in -successive generations just those tendencies of which these institutions -are themselves the traditional outcome and expression. Thus, it is the -individualistic nature of the political, religious, and family -organisation of the English people which, having been engendered by -innate independence of character and having in turn accentuated it in -each generation, has enabled the people to achieve its marvels of -colonisation and tropical administration. We see these tendencies -playing a predominant part in the history of every British colony. - -The difference was well brought out by Volney, a French observer of the -French and English colonists in the early days of the settlement of -North America. He wrote "The French colonist deliberates with his wife -upon everything that he proposes to do; often the plans fall to the -ground through lack of agreement." "To visit one's neighbours, to chat -with them, is for the French an habitual need so imperious that on all -the frontier of Louisiana and Canada you will not find a single French -colonist established beyond sight of his neighbour's home." "On the -other hand, the English colonist, slow and taciturn, passes the whole -day continuously at work; at breakfast he coldly gives his orders to his -wife; ... and goes forth to labour.... If he finds an opportunity to -sell his farm at a profit, he does so and goes ten or twenty leagues -further into the wilderness to make himself a new home[114]." - -It is the French authors themselves who have most insisted upon this -mental difference between the French and the English, which seems to be -determining a great difference in the destinies of the two peoples; and -most of them, while justly valuing the sympathetic and sociable quality -of the French mind, deeply regret its lack of the English -independence[115]. There has been no lack of speculation and inquiry as -to the origin and causes of this supremely important difference. It is -perhaps worth while to glance at some of these attempts. - -The most superficial attempt at explanation is to say that the political -and social institutions of the French people foster in each individual -the social tendencies in question, while the English institutions -develop their opposites. It is true, but it obviously is not the -explanation of the difference; for that we must go further back, in -order to find the origin of these differences of institution. - -An explanation a little less superficial is that the domination of the -first Napoleon and the strong centralised system of administration -established by him accounts for the difference. But the permanence, if -not the very possibility, of that system, and the rise to power of -Napoleon himself, were but symptoms of this deep-lying tendency of the -French mind. - -Buckle, recognising the profound difference which we are considering, -summed it up in the phrases 'the dominance of the protective spirit in -France' and of 'the spirit of independence in England,' He attributed -the former partly to the influence of the Roman Catholic Church in -France with its centralised authoritative system, partly to the long -prevalence of the feudal system of social organisation, under which -every man was made to feel his personal dependence upon the despotic -power of an independent noble and was accustomed to look to him for all -initiative and guidance--was trained to obey a despot, whose absolute -jurisdiction and whose title to his lands and rights was unchallenged. -The system, he said, culminated in the despotism of Louis XIV, by the -subjection of the previously independent nobles to the king, and was -revived in a different form, immediately after the great revolution, by -Napoleon. - -The dominance of the spirit of independence among the English people he -would explain also from the character of their political institutions -during recent centuries. After recounting the political history of -England from the sixteenth to the eighteenth century, and after showing -how the people during that period repeatedly succeeded in asserting its -liberties against the encroachments of the kings, he wrote--"In England -the course of affairs, which I have endeavoured to trace since the -sixteenth century, had diffused among the people a knowledge of their -own resources and a skill and independence in the use of them, imperfect -indeed, but still far superior to that possessed by any other of the -great European countries," But he was not wholly satisfied with this -explanation; he added--"Besides this, other circumstances, which will be -hereafter related, had, as early as the eleventh century, begun to -affect our national character and had assisted in imparting to it that -sturdy boldness, and at the same time, those habits of foresight, and of -cautious reserve, to which the English mind owes its leading -peculiarities." - -When we turn to his account of the primary cause of English -independence[116], we find that it was, in his view, that the feudal -system was established by William the Conqueror in a form different from -that obtaining on the continent. The nobles received their lands -directly from the king as grants, and all land owners were made to -acknowledge their direct obligation to him. The nobles were in -consequence too weak to set up their own power against that of the -king, and therefore they called the people to their aid in resisting the -power of the king; hence, the people early acquired rights and -privileges and the habit of organised resistance to the central -authority. "The English aristocracy, being thus forced by their own -weakness, to rely on the people, it naturally followed that the people -imbibed that tone of independence and that lofty bearing, of which our -civil and political institutions are the consequence, rather than the -cause. It is to this, and not to any fanciful peculiarity of race, that -we owe the sturdy and enterprising spirit for which the inhabitants of -this island have long been remarkable." - -"The practice of subinfeudation, became in France almost universal." The -great lords subgranted parts of their lands to lesser lords, and these -again to others, and so on--"thus forming a long chain of dependence, -and, as it were, organising submission into a system." In this country, -on the other hand, the practice was actively checked. "The result was -that by the fourteenth century the liberties of Englishmen were -secured," and the spirit of independence had become a part of the -national character; that is to say, Buckle maintained that three -centuries of a different form of the feudal system sufficed to produce -this profound difference between the French and English peoples. - -Boutmy also fully recognises the important difference between the innate -qualities of the French and English; and he also would explain it as the -effect of political institutions since the middle ages, but on lines -somewhat different from Buckle's--namely, that England was early ruled by -a king invested with great power, and inclined to all the excesses of -arbitrary rule. Hence the first need of the people was to fortify -themselves against his power. All the law of England carries the imprint -of this fear and this defiance. The parliament has been set up against -the crown, the judges against parliament, and the jury against the power -of the judges; and so, ever since the conquest, individuals have been -accustomed to think, and to assert, that their persons, their purse, and -their homes are inviolable; and that the State is an enemy whose -encroachments must be resisted. This way of thinking has by long usage -become instinctive, increasing from generation to generation; until the -horror of servitude has become rooted in the Englishman's temperament, -and the desire of independence has become a native and primary passion. - -Both Buckle and Boutmy agree, then, that the English love of liberty is -due to England having been conquered and ruled by a powerful king, and -that in France the opposite effect is to be attributed to the same -cause--namely, the influence of despotic rulers. Surely this is to -reverse cause and effect. If the English people had not already -possessed the sturdy spirit of independence when they were conquered by -the Norman, his strong centralised rule would only have rendered them -still less independent and would have fostered the spirit of protection, -as Buckle calls it. If the national characters had been reversed in this -respect, how easy it would have been to show that the dependence of the -English character was due to the strong rule of a foreign despot, -William of Normandy, while the French independence was due to the -existence in feudal times of many centres of independent power, the -nobles, each capable of resisting the central authority! It was just -because this spirit was theirs already that the English people resisted -their kings and were able to secure their liberties by setting up -institutions congenial to their nature, institutions and customs which -have fostered in each individual and each generation the spirit of -independence inherited as a racial quality, and which possibly, though -by no means certainly, have further intensified the racial peculiarity. - -Another cause for the difference of institutions is assigned by Sir -Henry Maine. He pointed to the great influence of Roman law upon French -institutions; he showed how the French lawyers, brought up in the school -of Roman law and holding the Roman Empire as the ideal of a political -organisation, threw all their weight upon the side of the monarchy, and -in favour of centralised administration. More, perhaps, is due to this -influence than to the causes assigned by Buckle and Boutmy; but no one -of these alleged causes, nor all of them combined, can be accepted as -adequate to explain the origin of the difference of national characters. -These authors fail also to make clear how the political institutions can -have modified character. Boutmy frankly assumes use-inheritance, which, -as I have said, is, in the present state of science, an unwarrantable -assumption. - -That these qualities of the French and English peoples are innate racial -qualities, evolved during the race-making or prehistoric period, is -proved not only by the inadequacy of any assignable causes operating -during the historic period, but also by the fact that similar qualities -are described by the earliest historians as characterising the -ancestors, or the principal ancestral stocks, of the two peoples, when -they first appear in history. It is proved also by the fact that other -branches of the Nordic race have displayed similar qualities, more -especially the Dutch, and also the Normans, who, though they have long -formed part of the French State in the political sense, and have -suffered most of the political influences assigned as causes of the -spirit of protection, not only displayed the spirit of independence in -the highest degree ten centuries ago, but are admitted to be still -distinguished from the bulk of the French people by the greater -individualism of their character, just as they are still markedly -different in physical traits. They offer one of the best examples of -fixity of the physical characters of a race. No one can travel in -Normandy without being struck by the very marked and distinctive -physical type, which, according to all accounts, is that of the Norman -who came over to England with the Conqueror; and there is every reason -to believe that the mental qualities of the race have been equally fixed -and enduring. - -Julius Caesar, Tacitus, and other early historians have described for us -the leading qualities of the Gauls on the one hand and of the Teutons on -the other. Fouillee in his _Psychology of the French People_ has brought -together the evidence of these early historians on the point; it shows -that the Gauls and the Teutons were distinguished very strongly by the -same differences which obtain between the French and English peoples at -the present time, especially the difference in respect of independence -and initiative, the origin of which we are seeking to explain. The Gauls -were eminently sociable people, sympathetic, emotional, demonstrative, -vivacious, very given to oratory and discussion, vain and moved by the -desire of glory, capable of great gallantry, but not of persevering -effort in face of difficulties, easily elated, easily cast down. And, -what from our point of view is especially important, they were readily -led by the chiefs, to whom they were attached by the bonds of personal -loyalty; and they were constantly banding themselves together in large -groups, under such leaders as attained popularity by their superior -qualities; and, again, they were dominated by the priestly caste, the -Druids. The Gauls even had those family institutions which characterise -the modern French and which have been held to be the expression of their -recently acquired qualities and traditions; namely, the family had the -character of a community in which the wife had equal rights with the -husband, and the children were regarded also as members of the community -having their equal claims upon the family property. And society was -bound together by a system of patrons and clients, a system of personal -dependence. - -On the other hand, the Teutonic people, as described by the same ancient -authorities, displayed a decided individualism in virtue of which their -social organisation was more rudimentary. The father was supreme in the -family, and his power and property descended to his eldest son. They -were a more phlegmatic people, but of great energy and persistence. -Unlike the Gauls, they were dominated by no priestly caste. The -religious rites were conducted by the elder men. - -The Gauls were a mixed people of whom the minority, constituting the -nobility, were of the tall, fair, long-headed Nordic race, while the -majority, the mass of the common people, were of the short, dark, -round-headed race. And these, as the numerous observations of the -anthropologists show, constitute to-day the bulk of the population, -except in Normandy and the extreme north-east of France. - -The Teutons or Germans of Caesar and Tacitus, on the other hand, were of -the fair Nordic race; and the Anglo-Saxons who overran Britain, together -with the Danes and Normans, who, with the Saxons, formed the principal -ancestral stock of the English, were of this same Nordic race, or -Northmen, as we may call them. - -Now, it might seem useless to attempt to arrive at any conclusions as to -the influences that shaped these races in prehistoric times. But an -attempt has been made by one of the schools of French sociologists, -which, in spite of its speculative character, seems to be worthy of -attention. This is the school of 'La Science Sociale,' founded seventy -years ago by Fredericq le Play and more recently led by Ed. Demolins and -H. de Tourville. Aided by a number of ardent disciples, they have made a -special study of the influence of physical environment in determining -occupations and social organisation, and in moulding indirectly through -these the mental qualities of peoples. That is their great principle. -They rightly, I think, insist upon the relatively small importance of -political institutions in moulding a people, regarding them as secondary -results of the factors which, determining the private activities of men -and women at every moment of their lives from the cradle to the grave, -exert a far greater and more intimate influence upon their minds. In two -fascinating volumes[117] Demolins has summed up the principal results of -this school and attempted to trace the conditions that have determined -the differentiation of all the principal races of the earth; and de -Tourville has applied the same principles and traced their effects in -European history[118]. - -It is a curious fact that the work of the Le Play school is almost -entirely ignored by the other French sociologists and anthropologists. -It is seldom referred to by them, and outside France also it has not -received the attention it deserves. Much of it is of the nature of -brilliant speculation, and is regarded no doubt as unsound by many more -sober minds. Yet, when we attempt to understand the evolution of man in -the prehistoric period, brilliant speculation becomes a necessary -supplement to the work of measuring skulls and digging up ruins, to -which some less ingenious workers confine themselves. And, of all the -conclusions of the Le Play school, their account of the origin of the -distinctive characters of the Northmen is one of the most striking and -satisfactory; while their account of the origins of the Gauls and of -their peculiar social organisation and well marked mental traits is also -among their best work. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -THE RACE-MAKING PERIOD (_continued_) - - -THE INFLUENCE OF OCCUPATIONS AND OF RACE-CROSSING - -In the foregoing chapter we noticed certain well-marked and generally -recognised differences of national character presented by the French and -the English peoples--namely, the greater independence of the English, the -greater sociability of the French people; and we noted how these -differences of national character show themselves throughout the -institutions of the two nations, and how they have played a great part -in determining the difference of their histories; especially, we saw, -how they are of prime importance, when we seek to account for the -greater expansion of the English people throughout the world. - -We then noticed several attempts that have been made, by Buckle, Boutmy, -Maine and others, to account for these differences as results of -differences of political institutions during the last thousand years. We -found that all these attempts fail, and that the differences of -political institutions, which these authors have regarded as the causes -of the differences of national character, are really the expressions of -a fundamental racial difference; that, in short, these authors have -inverted the true causal relation. I then drew attention to the work of -the school of Le Play and especially to its fundamental -principle--namely, that, while peoples are in a state of primitive or -lowly culture, their geographical or physical environment determines -their occupations and, through their occupations, their social -organisations, especially their domestic organisation; and that -particular modes of occupation and of social organisation of a primitive -people, persisting through many generations, mould the innate qualities -and form the racial character. - -I said that two brilliant workers of the school--namely, Demolins and de -Tourville--had applied this principle to account for those differences -between the national characters of the French and English peoples which -we were considering. I have now to reproduce their account in as -condensed a form as possible. - -Demolins claims to show that the short dark round-headed people, who -formed the bulk of the Gauls and also of the population of modern -France, came, in prehistoric times, from the Eurasian steppe region, -reaching France by way of the valley of the Danube, a long narrow -lowland region confined on the north by the Carpathians and mountains of -Bohemia, on the south by the Balkans and Swiss Alps. He supposes that, -for long ages, they had lived as pastoral nomads on the steppes. By -examining the nomads who still lead the pastoral life on the steppes, he -shows the kind of social organisation to which this pastoral life -inevitably gives rise and under which they lived; and he traces the -effects which such occupation and such social organisation produce on -the mental qualities of a people. - -The system is the patriarchal system _par excellence_. It is something -very different from the Roman system characterised by the _patria -potestas_, which the writings of Sir H. Maine have perhaps tended to -confuse with the true patriarchal system. The patriarchal system of the -pastoral nomads is essentially a communal system, under which all the -brothers, sons, and grandsons of the patriarch form, with their -families, a community which holds all the property, consisting of flocks -and herds, in common; each member having his claim to his share of the -produce, each doing his share of the common labour, and each having a -voice in the regulation of the affairs of the family. Such a system -represses individualism; there is no individual property, there are no -individual rights, duties, or responsibilities; no scope for individual -initiative; the individual is swallowed up in the community; superior -energy or enterprise bring no superior rewards, but rather tend to -social disorganisation and to the detriment of the individual who -displays them. Further, the work of looking after the herds of cattle is -easy and delightful, calling for no sustained exertion; and the herds -provide every necessary article of food, clothing, and shelter. Beyond -the family group there exists no political organisation; for the group -is self-supporting and independent, it has no need of relations with -other groups, and each group lives far apart from others, wandering in -some ill-defined region of the immense plain. - -The peculiarities of this social organisation and of this mode of life -are clearly created by the physical environment, by the boundless grassy -plains, which enable each family group to maintain a large troup of -cattle, chiefly horses. At the same time, these conditions render -necessary the co-operation of all the members of the family in the -common work of tending the cattle; while the necessity of continually -moving on to fresh pasture prevents the growth of any fixed forms of -property and of any more elaborate social organisation. - -It is an extremely stable and persistent mode of life and of social -organisation. So long as the geographical conditions remain unchanged, -it is difficult to see how any change would take place in it, how any -progress towards civilisation could begin. And, as a matter of fact, the -people who have remained in these regions continue to lead just the same -patriarchal, pastoral, nomadic life. Long ages of this mode of life may -well put upon a people the stamp of sociability and communism and kill -out individualism and individual initiative! Demolins points out in a -very interesting way how these effects of the patriarchal system of the -pastoral nomads are displayed most clearly still by the population of -southern Russia, who, of all the settled European peoples descended from -such pastoral nomads, have suffered fewest disturbing influences; how -still the individual is subordinated to the community, to the _mir_, by -which all private life and industrial activity is directed and which is -the owner of the principal property, namely the land; and how, in -consequence, the people remain devoid of all individual initiative and -enterprise. - -The Celts arriving in Gaul retained these qualities and something of the -patriarchal organisation, although they were no longer simply pastoral -nomads; for, in the course of their migrations, they had been forced to -take up agriculture and the rearing of other domestic animals, -especially the pig, through lack of sufficient open steppe land. While -in this disorganised condition in Gaul, they were overrun by tribes of -the Nordic race, who established themselves as a conquering nobility, -superimposing upon the rudimentary political organisation of the Celts a -loose military organisation of clans; each clan was led by a popular -warrior who attached to himself by his personal qualities as large as -possible a number of clients or clansmen, acquiring rights over their -land and property, in return for the patronage and protection he offered -them. These nobles with their blood relatives were the tall fair-haired -Gauls described by Caesar. The Celts lent themselves readily to this -system based on personal loyalty and leadership, owing to their lack of -independence of character engendered by long ages of the patriarchal -communal regime. And the new social organisation fostered and developed -still more through many generations the spirit of dependence, the -tendency to look for authoritative guidance and control to some -recognised centre of power. - -Under the two circumstances, the long regime of patriarchal communism -and the subsequent prevalence for many generations of the clan system, -we may see, according to Demolins, the causes of those deep-seated -tendencies of the French nation (summed up by Buckle in the phrase the -spirit of protection) which throughout their history have played so -large a part in shaping the destinies of the people, and which are still -the source of grave anxiety to many patriotic Frenchmen. - -It is interesting to note that among the Celtic populations of the -British Isles the same features have been clearly displayed. We see -among them the clan-system with its dual ownership of the soil, which -has been perpetuated in Ireland to the present day and has received more -formal and legal recognition from the British government in its recent -legislation. We see the strong clannish spirit and relative lack of -independence. These qualities are clearly shown by the Celtic Irish, -even when they have been compelled by necessity to emigrate to America. -There they are not found to be pioneers on the frontiers of -civilisation, but rather remain herded together in clannish communities -in the cities of the eastern states, where they create such powerful -unofficial associations as 'Tammany Hall.' - -Demolins' account of the genesis of the spirit of independence and -enterprise of the Anglo-Saxons is still more interesting and seductive. -He supposes that their ancestors also came originally in very remote -times from the Eurasian steppes; but that is a disputable point and -forms no essential part of his argument. They settled in prehistoric -times around the coasts of the Baltic and the North Sea, especially in -Scandinavia. And the physical peculiarities of this region impressed -upon their descendants the qualities which have enabled them to play a -leading part in the destruction of the Roman power and in the -development of the civilisation of modern Europe, and which have -established them in almost every part of the world as a dominant race, -increasing in power and numbers at the expense of other peoples. - -What, then, are these physical conditions? - -Scandinavia is a mass of barren mountains coming down in almost all -parts abruptly to the sea. Its coast line is indented by innumerable -fiords and bordered by thousands of small islands; and the sea which -washes these coasts is warmed by the Gulf Stream. This sea, owing to its -warmth and to the existence of a great bank which lies near the surface -and runs parallel to the coast line, is extremely rich in fish. Hence, -the Nordic tribes who settled in Scandinavia inevitably became a -sea-faring folk, spreading slowly along the coasts in small boats, -supporting themselves in large part upon the fish which they caught in -the sea; for the land is barren, while the sea offers ideal conditions -for fishing in small boats. But, unlike the herds of pastoral peoples, -sea-fishing does not provide all the necessities of a simple life. It -must be combined with agriculture. Hence, the ancient Northmen became a -race of hardy seafarers who at the same time practised agriculture. - -The character of the land which was available for the necessary but -supplementary agriculture was all important. It consisted, as it does -still, of small isolated strips of cultivatable soil at the feet of the -mountains where they plunge into the sea. On such land it was impossible -for the family to retain the form of a patriarchal community. The -fertile areas were too small to support such communities, and the -individualistic form of family was inevitably evolved. On each small -plot of cultivatable land a little farm was formed, a homestead in which -lived a family restricted to father, mother, and children. As the -children grew up, it was impossible to support them on the one small -farm or to divide it among them; one son alone was chosen as the -inheritor of the paternal farm; and each of the others had to seek a new -piece of land, build a new homestead, and acquire his own boat. - -Thus, the family was forced to become the individualistic family; and -the home of each such family was necessarily isolated, widely separated -from that of every other, owing to the scattered distribution of the -little areas of fertile soil. Thus were formed the first homes in the -English sense of the word; the home in which the father rules supreme -over his own little household, brooking no interference from outside; -the home in which the children are brought up to look forward to -establishing, each child for himself, similar independent -individualistic homes. Such homes have been established by the Northmen -in every part of the world in which they have settled; and they are -peculiar to them and their descendants. - -It is obvious that all the very limited domains of the Scandinavian -coasts must have been fully occupied in the way described in a -comparatively few generations after the process of settlement began. -This seems to have occurred about the fourth or fifth century A.D. Then -the younger sons, for whom there was no place at home and for whom there -remained no spots suitable for homesteads in their native land, were -sent out into the world to seek their fortunes. They banded themselves -together to man single boats, or formed fleets of boats; and, leaving -their parents and women-folk behind, set out to conquer for themselves -new homesteads. Large numbers, sailing to the southern shores of the -Baltic and up the Weser and the Elbe, settled on the plains of Saxony; -and from this new centre they again spread, as the Anglo-Saxons to -England, and as the Franks to Gaul. Others settled directly in northern -France and became the Normans. Others, the Varegs, penetrated the plains -of Russia and established themselves as princes over the Slav -population. - -This was a migration such as had never before been seen; bands of armed -men, all young or in the prime of life, coming not as mere robbers, but -seeking to conquer for themselves and to settle upon whatever land -seemed to them most desirable. Everywhere they went they conquered and -either exterminated or drove out the indigenous population, as in the -south and east of England, or established themselves as an aristocracy, -a ruling military caste, as the Franks in the north-east of Gaul. And -everywhere they established firmly their individualistic social -organisation, especially the isolated homestead of the individualistic -family, characterised by the despotic power of the father and by great -regard for individual property and for the rights of the individual as -against all State institutions and public powers. In hostile countries -the homestead became a fortified place, or at least was furnished with a -fortified keep or castle; and in those regions, such as Gaul, in which -the indigenous population was not exterminated, the feudal system was -thus initiated. Everywhere they carried their spirit of independence, -enterprise, and initiation. - -It was the swarming of the young broods of Northmen in search of new -homes that caused the Romans to describe these Northern lands as the -womb of peoples, and to regard them with wonder and something of fear. - -These qualities and habits continued to be displayed in the highest -degree by the Normans after their first settlement in the north of -France. The younger sons kept up the good old fashion of going out into -the world to seek a fortune or rather a territory, which often was a -dukedom or a kingdom. Their most characteristic performance was the -conquest of the greater part of Italy. A little before William of -Normandy and his companions secured for themselves domains in this -country, Norman knights, engaging in enterprises that might well have -seemed absolutely foolhardy, had established themselves in Mediterranean -lands. Some two thousand Normans, arriving Viking fashion in their small -ships, conquered Sicily and the south of Italy and divided these lands -among themselves; and for a time they introduced order and a settled -mode of life among the peoples of those parts. The leading spirits -among them were ten sons of one Norman gentleman, Tancrede de -Hauteville, the father of twelve sons of whom two only remained at home, -while each of the others carved out for himself a domain in Italy. As -Demolins remarks, these families, retaining undiminished their -individualistic tendencies and spirit of independence, were veritable -factories of men for exportation. - -The modern Frenchman, says Demolins, would regard as the height of folly -the enterprises of the old Northmen, who, mounted on their frail ships, -quitted each spring the coast of Scandinavia, launched out on the wild -sea, landed, a mere handful of men, on the coasts of Germany, Britain, -or Gaul, and there with their swords carved out domains and made new -homesteads. It was thus that the ancestors of Tancred had acquired the -manor of Hauteville, and it was thus that his sons conquered Italy and -Sicily. - -It was in a very similar way that, in a later age, men of the same breed -carried to the new world the same individualistic institutions and the -same spirit of independence, and in doing so, laid the sure foundations -of the immense vigour and prosperity of the American people. - -There is one almost more striking illustration of the great and lasting -effects upon character and institutions of the mode of life of the -Northmen determined by their physical environment. It is furnished by -the character and habits of the people who still dwell in the plains -between the mouths and lower parts of the Weser and the Elbe, a region -which was naturally one of the first to be conquered and occupied by the -Northmen. This territory is an infertile sandy plain, and at the time of -the coming of the Northmen had but scanty population; hence, instead of -becoming the military and ruling caste of a subject people, the Northmen -became themselves peasants and farmers. In doing so, they retained all -the characteristic features of the individualistic family and have -perpetuated them, together with the spirit of enterprise and -independence, undiminished to the present day. - -In this region each farm is a freehold which has remained in the hands -of the same family for long periods, in many cases for hundreds of -years. Each farm has its isolated homestead inhabited by the head of the -family, his wife and young children, and one or two hired servants. Each -homestead is well nigh completely self-supporting and lives almost -independent of the outside world. In spite of the isolation, which might -have been expected to engender an extreme conservatism and backwardness -of culture, these farmers have continued to exhibit the old Northmen's -spirit of enterprise and their power of voluntary combination in the -pursuit of individual ends. They were the first in Europe to establish a -society for the scientific study of agriculture, and they have thus -maintained themselves in the first rank as cultivators of the land, -quite without State assistance. In the same way and at an early date -they established schools for their children. They have continued to -produce large families and have retained the custom of handing over the -farm and homestead intact to one son, chosen for his ability to manage -it; while all the other sons keep up the old custom of going out into -the world to seek their fortunes, in the shape of new homesteads. - -Most striking of all, they still do this in the old Norse fashion as -nearly as possible. In one district these farmers combined their efforts -some sixty years ago and built a ship which, since that time, has sailed -every year to South Africa, carrying there the surplus sons in search of -new domains for themselves. In that far country their spirit of -independence finds satisfaction in establishing new homesteads, new -families of the individualistic type, and in perpetuating their -traditions of enterprise and self-reliance. - -It is because the modern Scandinavians are of the same stock, fashioned -for long ages by the same physical environment, that they have continued -to emigrate in large numbers to North America, where some of their -ancestral race landed centuries before Columbus was born, and where, in -the newly opened territories of Canada and the United States, they are -generally recognised as being among the best of the settlers. - -Demolins does not enter into the question--How did the institutions and -mode of life of these or other peoples, determined by physical -environment, bring about adaptation of racial qualities to the -environment? He seems to assume in all cases use-inheritance. But if, as -seems possible or even probable, this is a false assumption, we may -still see clearly that, in the case of the Northmen at least, adaptation -may well have been effected by selection. The conditions of life of -these Northmen were such that in each generation the majority of men -could become fathers of families only after carrying through -successfully an enterprise in which a bold independence of spirit was -the prime condition of success. - -Those who were deficient in the spirit of independence must have shrunk -from these wild expeditions in search of new homes to be won only by -the sword, or must in the main have failed to attain the end; remaining -at home, or returning there after failing in the enterprise to which -they proved unequal, to finish their days as bachelor uncles at the -paternal hearth. This process, carried on for many generations, would -lead to the evolution of just those qualities which are characteristic -of their descendants in all the many parts of the earth where they now -rule. Not only must such social selection have been operative during the -period of settlement of Scandinavia; but each great migration to a new -area must have sifted out the most independent and enterprising spirits -to be the founders and fathers of the new branch of the race[119]. Thus -the descendants of the pilgrim fathers were the product of three such -processes of severe selection; the migration from Scandinavia to -Northern Germany; that from Germany to England; and that from England to -America. No wonder that they proved themselves well able to cope with -the hardships and dangers of a new continent inhabited by savages only -less fiercely tempered than their own stock by many generations of -warfare! When we thus find the same institutions and the same mental -traits characterising, from the dawn of history to the present time, all -the widely separated branches of one racial stock and of this stock -alone, we realize how powerful over the destiny of nations is the -influence of racial character formed in the long prehistoric ages; we -see how futile it is to attempt to explain the mental traits of a people -by the history of their political institutions during a few recent -centuries; we understand that these institutions are the effects, not -the causes, of those mental qualities and that, even among the peoples -who have attained the highest degree of civilisation, racial qualities -remain of supreme importance. - - -THE CROSSING OF RACES - -Before passing on to the consideration of evolutionary changes during -the historic period, a few words must be said about the crossing and -blending of races. Such blending has been, no doubt, one of the -principal causes of the great variety of human types at present existing -on the earth. It has been going on for long ages in almost all regions; -but especially in Europe and Africa. All existing stocks (with few -exceptions) are the products of race-blending. No one of the existing -European peoples is of unmixed stock; every one is the product of -successive mixtures and blendings of allied stocks; and the mixing and -blending still goes on; while in America (both north and south) the -greatest experiments in race-blending that the world has yet seen are -taking place before our eyes. - -Authors differ widely as to the results of the crossing of human races -and subraces. Some assert that the effect of crossing of races is always -bad, that the cross-bred progeny is always inferior to the parent -stocks. They make no allowance for unfavourable conditions, especially -the lack of the strong moral traditions of old organised societies. -Others maintain the opposite opinion. Both opinions are probably correct -in a certain sense. I think the facts enable us to make with some -confidence the following generalisation. The crossing of the most widely -different stocks, stocks belonging to any two of the four main races of -man, produces an inferior race; but the crossing of stocks belonging to -the same principal race, and especially the crossing of closely allied -stocks, generally produces a blended subrace superior to the mean of the -two parental stocks, or at least not inferior. - -This generalisation cannot yet be based on exact and firmly established -data, unfortunately; but it is in harmony with old established popular -beliefs, and with what we know of the crossing of animal breeds; and it -is borne out by a general inspection of many examples. For instance, the -blending of the white, negro, and American stocks, which has been going -on in South America for some centuries, seems to have resulted in a -subrace which up to the present time is inferior to the parent races; or -at any rate to the white race. So the mulattoes of North America and the -West Indies, although superior in some respects to the pure negroes, -seem deficient in vitality and fertility, and the race does not maintain -itself. The Eurasians of India are commonly said to be a comparatively -feeble people. The blend of the Caucasian with the yellow race is also -generally of a poor type. Examples abound in Java of people of mixed -Javanese and Dutch blood; and they are for the most part feeble -specimens of humanity. It is generally recognised that a recently -blended stock may produce a few individuals of exceptional vigour and -capacity and physical beauty. But setting these aside, the blended stock -seems to be inferior in two respects: (1) a general lack of vigour, -which expresses itself in lack of power of resistance to many diseases -and in relative infertility; so that the blended stock can hardly -maintain its numbers; (2) a lack of harmony of qualities, both mental -and physical. It may be that such lack of harmony is the ground of the -relative infertility of blended stocks. It expresses itself in the -inharmonious combination of physical features, characteristic of the -mongrel. The negro race has a beauty of its own, which is spoilt by -blending. - -As regards mental constitution, although we cannot directly observe and -measure these disharmonies of composition, there seems good reason to -believe that they exist. The soul of the cross-bred is, it would seem, -apt to be the scene of perpetual conflict of inharmonious tendencies. -This has been the theme of many stories, and, though no doubt many of -them are overdrawn, there is no reason to doubt that they in the main -depict actual experience or are founded on close observation. - -It is on the moral, rather than the intellectual, side of the mind that -the disharmony seems to make itself felt most strongly; and the moral -detachment of the cross-bred from the moral traditions of both the -parent stocks is possibly due in part to a certain lack of innate -compatibility with those traditions, as well as to social ostracism; the -cross-bred can assimilate neither tradition so easily and completely as -the pure-bred stocks. - -It is possible, though this is a still more speculative view, that the -same is true of the intellectual constitution of the mind. - -The superiority of subraces formed by the blending of allied stocks -seems to fall principally under two heads: (1) a general vigour of -constitution; (2) a greater variety and variability of innate mental -qualities. The greater variability of qualities of a subrace renders -that race more adaptable to changing conditions; for racial adaptability -depends upon the occurrence of abundant spontaneous variations. A large -variety of innate qualities renders a race capable of progressing -rapidly in civilisation; it renders it more capable both of producing -novel ideas and of appreciating and assimilating the ideas, discoveries, -and institutions of other peoples; and such imitative assimilation from -one people to another has been a main condition of the progress of -culture. - -It is, of course, well recognised that the great centres of development -of culture have been the places where different peoples have come most -freely into contact, notably the centre of the old world where Asia, -Africa, and Europe meet together. This was the area in which the three -great races of Europe came first into contact and mingled freely. Some -authors attribute the fertilising influence upon culture wholly to the -blending or contact of cultures; but there is good reason to believe -that it is largely due also to race-blending. - -We might compare in this respect the three great culture areas of the -old world--Europe, India and China. The Chinese afford an instance of one -relatively pure race occupying a very large area. In spite of its early -start and great mental capacities, its culture has stagnated. The stock -was perhaps too pure. India on the other hand seems to owe its peculiar -history largely to the fact that its population in almost all parts has -been made up from very widely different races--white, yellow and black; -the heterogeneity has been too great for stability and continued -progress. In Europe different branches and sub-branches of the white -race, that is of stocks not too widely different in constitution, have -undergone repeated crossing and recrossing. - -It is worth while to point out that, if our generalisation is valid, it -follows that race-blending has been an important factor in the progress -of civilisation. And the generalisation has also an important bearing -upon one of the most urgent problems confronting the statesmen of the -world at the present time, and not only the statesmen but all the -citizens of the civilised states, especially the citizens of the British -Empire and of America. For it justifies abundantly the refusal of the -white inhabitants of various countries to admit immigrants of the yellow -or negro race to settle among them; and it justifies, and more than -justifies, the objection to intermarriage with those other races which -Englishmen have upheld wherever they have settled, and which most other -peoples have not upheld[120]. - -In all the currents of heated discussion as to the rights and wrongs of -the treatment of other races, this question of the kind of subrace which -will result from intermarriage is generally left in the background; -whereas its importance is far greater than that of all other -considerations taken together. Some, like Sir S. Olivier[121], are -content to approve race-blending on the ground that it improves the -inferior race. But the racial qualities of the leading peoples of the -world are too precious to be squandered in the process of improving in -some uncertain degree the quality of the overwhelming mass of humanity -of inferior stocks; the process would probably result in the total -destruction of all that humanity has striven and suffered for in its -nobler efforts. - -It is an interesting question--When two races or subraces are crossed, do -they ever produce a homogeneous and true subrace, exhibiting a true and -stable blend of the qualities of the parental stocks? Or does the blend -always remain imperfect, with many individuals in whom the qualities of -one or other of the parental stocks predominate? The answer seems to be -that a stable subrace may be formed in this way, though usually not -until free intermarriage has gone on for many generations. According to -the most recent doctrine of heredity, the Mendelian, every human being -is a mosaic or patchwork of unit qualities, organs, or capacities, each -of which is inherited wholly from one of the parents and not at all from -the other. If this view is well founded, it follows that there can be no -true blending of these unit qualities. But still the mosaic may be so -finely grained and the unit qualities derived from the two parents so -closely interwoven, that each individual may present an intimate mixture -of the parental qualities, may represent for all practical purposes a -blending of the two stocks. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -RACIAL CHANGES DURING THE HISTORIC PERIOD - - -We have found reason to believe that national character, as expressed in -the collective mental life of any people, is only to be understood and -explained when we take into account the native or racial mental -qualities of the people; and we have seen reason to think that these -racial qualities were in the main formed in the prehistoric or -race-making period; we have noted some of the principal attempts to -throw light on the prehistoric moulding of races. But these racial -qualities, although very persistent, are not unalterable. We must, -therefore, consider whether, and in what ways, the racial mental -qualities of a people may have been changed during the nation-making or -historic period. What are the factors which determine such changes? What -is their influence on the destiny of nations? - -The most diverse opinions are still held in regard to the question of -the extent and nature of changes of innate mental qualities of peoples -during the historic period, the period during which a people, or a -branch of a people, attains political unity and becomes a nation. - -There is no doubt that the moulding power of physical environment tends -to become greatly diminished during this more settled period of the life -of a people, and that, in so far as changes take place, they are -determined principally by racial substitutions and by social selections -within a people, rather than by the mere struggle for survival of -individuals or of family groups against the inclemency of nature or -against other individuals and groups. - -The former of these two modes of change, substitution, has undoubtedly -been effected on a large scale, producing in certain instances radical -changes in the racial quality of the populations of some countries; that -is to say, there has been more or less gradual substitution of one race -for another, while the nation as a geographical and political entity, -with its language and much of its laws, institutions, and customs, lives -on without complete breach of continuity, and the people, although by -blood radically changed, continues to regard itself as the same people, -accepting as its own the traditions of those predecessors whom they -mistakenly regard as their ancestors. - -Perhaps the most striking and complete change of this sort in European -history was the change of racial character of the Greek people. It is -now pretty well established that the Greek population of the classical -age was an incomplete blend of two of the three great European stocks, -namely _Homo Europaeus_, the northern, fair, long-headed type of tall -stature, and of _H. Mediterraneus_, the short dark long-headed type of -the Mediterranean coast lands. The Pelasgians, who, as we now know, had -achieved a civilisation of a type that was widely spread through -southern Europe as long as three thousand years or more before our era, -seem to have been of this Mediterranean race. - -Rather more than a thousand years before our era, the Pelasgian -population of Greece and the neighbouring regions began to be overrun -and conquered by tribes of the fair Northern race which came in -successive invasions, the Thracians, the Hellenes, the Achaeans, the -Ionians, and later the Dorians. Just as, at a later period, men of the -Northern race established themselves as a military aristocracy over the -Celtic peoples of western Europe, so these invading tribes established -themselves as a military aristocracy over the populations of -Mediterranean race; and, as in the former case, so here, they -intermarried largely with the people they conquered and formed an -imperfectly blended population, in the upper social strata of which the -fair type was predominant, in the lower strata the dark type. - -From this happy blending of two races was formed the people which, under -the favourable geographical and social conditions of that time and -place, evolved the civilisation that culminated after six hundred years -in the Athenian culture of the time of Pericles. And then, after a very -short time, the whole of that splendid civilisation faded away, and the -Greek people sank to a position of slight importance from which it has -never again risen. After having displayed in several departments of the -intellectual life a power and originality such as have never been -approached by any other people, they became a people of very mediocre -capacities, devoid of power of origination and purely imitative. - -That this profound change in the mental qualities of the population of -Greece was due to substitution of one racial stock by an inferior one is -beyond question. That a great change of racial type was effected is -sufficiently proved by the comparison of the physical type of the modern -with that of the ancient Greeks. The modern are predominantly dark and -round headed; the ancient were distinctly long headed, as shown by a -sufficient number of skull measurements; and they were, as regards the -dominant class at least, predominantly fair in colour. It has been -supposed that the many references to the fair hair and complexion of -heroes and gods were due to fair persons being very rare and hence an -object of special admiration; but there is no ground for this. The way -in which this racial substitution took place is also pretty clear; and -the rapid, almost sudden, decline of the intellectual productivity of -the Greek people coincided in time with the racial change. - -The first and most important factor in the extermination of the best -blood of ancient Greece was military selection. Military group selection -in the prehistoric period had, no doubt, played a great part in bringing -about the evolution of the superior mental qualities of the European -peoples, especially of the fair northern race. So long as the peoples -consisted of more or less wandering tribes of pure race, which waged a -war of extermination upon one another, the peoples and tribes of -superior mental and moral endowments must in the main have survived, -while those of inferior endowments went under. But, so soon as the -Nordic tribes became settled as aristocracies ruling over the Pelasgian -populations, the effects of military selection tended to be reversed; -instead of making for racial improvement, they made for deterioration. -That racial deterioration occurs under these conditions seems to be an -almost general law; it has been exemplified among many different -peoples. The many small Greek states were almost perpetually at war with -one another; and the result of the warfare was not so much the wholesale -extermination of the people of any one state, as the killing off in -large numbers of the younger men of the ruling caste, the free citizens -of whom the armies were almost entirely composed. - -The wars between Sparta and Athens were the most destructive and tragic -of all in this respect. We know that the numbers of Spartans of the -aristocratic class, never very large, became fewer and fewer, in spite -of efforts made to keep up the number by admitting to citizenship -persons not of pure Spartan blood; and that Sparta was eventually -destroyed simply for lack of men, men of the ruling class[122]. - -In Athens and other states the depleting agencies were more numerous. -Frequent wars played the same part as in Sparta; and the number of free -men was further diminished by the repeated founding of colonies, in -which a relatively small number of persons of Greek blood became -swallowed up in a large population of mixed and inferior origin. In some -states, in Athens especially, the political conditions worked powerfully -in the same direction. Prominent citizens were perpetually exiled or -condemned to death, sometimes in considerable batches. It is said that -at certain times two-thirds of the citizens of certain states were -living in exile; and the exiles, going to the colonies or other foreign -lands, were for the most part lost to the Greek people. - -Then, with the blooming period of Greek intellect, came the loss of the -ancient religious beliefs, beliefs which had strengthened the family and -made each man anxious to have many sons that the rites might be duly -performed for the repose of his shade. Coinciding with this was the -great increase of luxury which made large families too expensive, save -for the most wealthy; while at the same time the abundance of slave -labour kept down the rate of remuneration of all handicrafts, and so -condemned the class of free Greek artisans to a state bordering on -poverty. Hence, the free citizens of pure blood, already largely reduced -in numbers, ceased to multiply; and the number of the citizens was only -sustained by the admission to citizenship of foreigners, freed slaves, -and various elements of different and inferior racial origins. - -Hence, at the time that the battle of Chersonese was fought and the -Macedonians attained the supremacy, the Greek citizens were no longer -the same racial aristocracy which had produced the finest flowers of -Greek culture. But the work of substitution was still only partially -accomplished. In the time of the Roman domination of Greece, the -remnants of the true Greek aristocracy were removed by the slave trade. -Tens of thousands of Greeks of all classes were brought together to the -slave markets; while those men of talent who escaped that fate emigrated -to Rome to seek their fortunes by teaching the Greek language and art -and philosophy. Later still came the Goths, who sacked the towns and -destroyed or drove out the inhabitants. Then followed successive -invasions of Slavs from the north; and lastly, the domination of the -Turk well-nigh completed the extinction of the old aristocracy. - -The modern Greek people is descended largely from Slav invaders and -largely from the numerous and prolific slave population of the great age -of Greece, but hardly at all from the men who made the greatness of that -age. - -Though the change and deterioration of the racial mental qualities of -the Greek people by racial substitution is the most striking example in -history, it is by no means the only one[123]. - -The substitution in that case was largely by elements drawn from other -regions and peoples. But a similar substitution and consequent change of -innate mental qualities may go on slowly within any people which has -been formed, as have almost all the present European nations, by an -incomplete blending of two or more racial stocks; it may be effected by -internal selection without any introduction of new elements from any -other region. Before considering an example of the process, let us note -certain facts which show that there may well have taken place, -throughout the historic period, changes of the composition of peoples by -internal substitution or changes of the mental constitution by internal -selections--that is to say, by the more rapid multiplication of certain -mental types and the relative infertility of other types. Consider first -the striking fact that the populations of the various European countries -seem for the most part to have remained almost stationary as regards -numbers, or even in some cases to have diminished greatly in numbers, -throughout the period between the Roman domination and the later part of -the eighteenth century. The population of Spain is said to have declined -from forty millions under the Roman rule to only six millions in the -year 1700 A.D. The population of Great Britain is said to have increased -from five millions to six millions only during the seventeenth century; -and it is certain that in the main it had increased at an even slower -rate, or not at all, in the preceding centuries since the Norman -Conquest; whereas in the nineteenth century it increased from thirteen -millions to nearly forty millions; that is to say, it trebled itself in -the century; and even that rate of increase is considerably less than -the possible maximal rate. - -The same is roughly true for most of the European countries; their -populations, throughout great stretches of the historic period, remained -stationary or increased only very slowly. Now when, during any period, a -population does not multiply at the maximal physiological rate, changes -of its character may well be taking place; for, in proportion as the -rate of increase falls below the maximal, there is a lack of fertility -in the population or in some part of it; if this relative infertility -affects equally all parts and classes of the population, it will produce -no change of its composition; but if it is selective, if for any reason -it affects one class, or persons of some one kind of temperament or -mental type, more than others, then this class or this temperament or -this form of ability tends rapidly to diminish and to disappear from -among that people. - -The causes of the relative infertility may be divided into two classes: -(1) those which operate by killing persons before they have completed -their middle life; (2) those which restrict fertility without killing. -Both may be selective in their action. The former kind is alone -operative in determining evolution in the animal world and probably also -among the less civilised peoples; but, as civilisation advances, the -causes of infertility of the other kind increase constantly in -effectiveness, while the former operate with less and less intensity. It -is through the causes which diminish fertility merely, rather than -exterminate individuals, that changes of racial quality of nations are -now being, and in the future will be, principally determined. Selection -of this kind is usually distinguished from the various modes of natural -selection which work by extermination, by the name 'reproductive -selection.' Briefly, natural selection operates by means of selective -death rate, reproductive selection by means of selective birth rate. - -No doubt, disease, especially in the form of plagues and epidemics, was -one of the principal causes of the slowness of increase of population -throughout the Middle Ages. And this was probably non-selective as -regards mental qualities, although it was strongly selective as regards -power of resistance to disease, and has left the European peoples more -resistant to most diseases than any other peoples, save perhaps the -Chinese[124]. - -But many other causes of selection were at work. Disease presumably has -not affected mental qualities by selection; although by direct action -and mental discouragement it may have tended to the decay of -civilisations; it has been argued, for example, that malaria played a -great part in the decay of classical antiquity, that it was introduced -some centuries B.C. and enfeebled the population of Greece and Italy. - -More interesting, from our point of view of the influences affecting the -mental constitution of populations, is the effect of alcohol. Dr -Archdall Reid has argued very forcibly that resistance to the attraction -of alcohol is a mental peculiarity which a race only acquires through -long exposure to the influence of abundant alcohol; that populations are -resistant just in proportion to their past exposure to it--as is true in -the main of epidemic and endemic diseases--and that in both cases this -is due to selection.[125] - -Much careful painstaking work by continental anthropologists seems to -have proved that a change of racial composition through internal -selection has been and still is going on in both the German and French -people. The facts have been worked out by O. Ammon[126], Hensen and De -Lapouge[127]. They show, chiefly by means of the comparison of the forms -of large numbers of skulls, that throughout the historic period the -French and German peoples have been becoming more and more round headed, -that the type of _Homo Alpinus_, the short dark round-headed race, has -been gaining upon the type of _Homo Europaeus_. - -We have seen that the latter stock of the fair northern type constituted -the upper class among the Gauls of Caesar's time; and the invasions of -Franks and Normans must have added considerably to their numbers; yet, -in spite of that, the mental and physical characters of this race are -said by these authors to be now very much rarer than formerly, owing to -the internal selections which have favoured the Alpine type. These took -the following forms. In the first place, in the early Middle Ages, it is -said, the Nordic type, being a military aristocracy, suffered, as in -ancient Greece, proportionally far greater losses in warfare than the -Alpine type. Secondly, the severe persecutions of Protestants in France -drove into exile, besides killing many others, large numbers who were -for the most part of the fair race, because, as we have seen, this race -does not easily remain content within the Roman Church. It is said, for -example, that, after the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, so large a -number of Protestants passed into Prussia that the rise of Prussia as a -powerful State was the immediate consequence, with of course an -equivalent loss to France. De Lapouge considers this the greatest blow -that France has suffered in the historic period. Normandy alone, it is -reported, sent 200,000 Protestants to Prussia. But the most important -and curious factor has been, according to De Lapouge, what he calls the -selection by towns. He shows, by comparison of masses of anthropological -observations, that the Nordic type has been predominantly attracted to -the towns (which fact he attributes to their more restless enterprising -character) while the dark type has been more content to lead the quiet -agricultural life[128]. He points out that the town-life stimulates to a -new struggle for adaptation, from which differentiation of classes -results; the longheads maintain their numbers better and rise in the -social scale. Further, he shows that town-life makes against fertility, -owing to a number of psychological influences--the stimulation of -ambition and of the intellect, the luxurious habits, the weakening of -family life, the break with the past and its family traditions, the -uncertainty of the future, the weakening of religious sanctions; and he -gives reason to believe that in this way the towns have been, through -many generations, weeding out the elements of the fair race and -determining an ever increasing predominance of _Homo Alpinus_. - -In order to understand the importance of these internal selections, it -is necessary to realise that their effects are cumulative in a high -degree, when the same influences continue to work through many -generations. Thus, if within any people there are two equally numerous -classes of persons of different mental constitution, _A_ and _B_, and if -these constitutions determine that the one group _A_ has a net birth -rate of three children per pair of adults, while the other _B_ has a -birth rate of four per pair of parents; then, in the third generation -after one century, the numbers of the two classes, other things being -the same for both, will be as ten to sixteen. After two centuries the -one class will be more than twice as numerous as the other; and after -three centuries the numbers of the class _A_ will constitute about -fifteen per cent, only of the whole population. Late marriage is also -very important. Suppose that of two classes, _A_ marries at 35, and _B_ -at 25 years, and that each produces four children per marriage; then -(other things being the same) after three and a half centuries _B_ -becomes four times as numerous as _A_. These two factors generally work -together. - -But, apart from the change of racial composition of a heterogeneous -nation by internal selection of this sort, changes of the constitution -of even a racially homogeneous people may be produced through selection -affecting persons of particular mental tendencies. One of the most -striking instances of this is the elimination of the religious -tendencies from the constitution of a people by negative selection -through the action of the Roman Church[129]. For many centuries the -Roman Church has attracted to her service very large numbers of those -who were by nature most religiously minded, and it has imposed celibacy -upon them, it has forbidden them to transmit their natural piety to -descendants. In Protestant countries this process of negative selection -of the religious tendencies was continued for a much briefer period than -in the Catholic countries. It is maintained with much plausibility that -we may see the result in the fact that sincere and natural piety is far -commoner in the Protestant countries than in the Roman Catholic; that in -the two countries Italy and Spain, in which the influence of the Roman -Church has been greater than in any others, the people are now the least -religiously minded of any in Europe; that with them religion has become -purely formal and external, that the mass of the people, though -outwardly conforming, is absolutely irreligious; that in fact this form -of religion tends to exterminate itself in the long run by insisting -upon that form of reproductive selection[130]. - -Another striking instance of the incidence of negative selection upon -certain mental qualities of a people is afforded by the history of -Spain. In the sixteenth century Spain attained to a supreme position of -power and grandeur among the nations of the world, such as has been -rivalled by Rome alone in all history; and then very rapidly her power -decayed, and ever since she has remained one of the most backward of -European peoples, contributing little to European culture, to science, -art or philosophy, incapable of developing without the aid of foreigners -her rich industrial resources, impotent in war, entirely devoid of -enterprise and originality. To what is this great change due? - -It is not due to any adverse change of climate, to devastation by war or -plague or famine, nor is it due to any change in geographical or -economic relations. Spain remains more happily situated as a centre of -commerce than any other country of the world. The mass of the people -remains vigorous, proud, and virile. It is the intellect of the nation -alone which has decayed, or rather it is the intellectual life of the -nation that has become utterly stagnant. - -Buckle drew a vivid picture of the stagnation of the Spanish intellect -and sought the explanation of it in the great power wielded by the Roman -Catholic Church, which, he said, had successfully fostered the spirit of -protection and superstition, had discouraged every effort of the -intellect, and utterly repressed the spirit of inquiry, to the free -activity of which all progress of civilisation was, in his opinion, due. -Here, again, modern science shows that Buckle was led into error by his -ignorance of the importance of the biological factors, the racial -qualities and the changes produced in them by selection. - -Galton and, still more fully, Fouillee have shown that the stagnation of -the intellect of the Spanish people and the consequent decay of the -power and glory of Spain have been chiefly due to the fact that the -people of Spain ceased to produce those men of exceptional mental -endowments, of intellectual energy and enterprise and independence of -character, on whom primarily depend the power and prosperity of any -nation and who are the most essential factors in the progress of the -civilisation of any people, who in short are essential for the growth -and endurance of national mind and character. And this was because -during some centuries intellectual power, enterprise, and energy were -steadily weeded out by a rigorous process of negative selection. In the -first place, the Church, having attained enormous power, became in two -ways a tremendous agency of negative selection. First, she made celibate -priests of a very large proportion of all those whose natural bent was -towards the things of the mind, multiplying monastic orders excessively. -Secondly, by means of the Inquisition she destroyed with fire and sword -or drove into exile through many generations all those who would not -conform to her narrow creed, who combined intellectual power with -independence and originality of spirit and a firm will. In addition she -drove out all the Jews and all of Moorish origin. - -The second mode of negative selection, namely persecution exerted by the -Church, was no doubt the more important, but the former also must have -had a great effect. We are helped to realize the probable magnitude of -the effect by reflection on facts set out in an article by Bishop -Welldon[131]. He shows the great part played in English civilisation -since the reformation by the sons of the English Clergy; including as -they did a number of men of the highest achievements in all departments -of our national life. If all those sons of clergy who have shown -exceptional abilities, and all their descendants, had by the rule of -celibacy been prevented from coming into existence, how disastrous would -that have been for the English people, how much less successful and -vigorous would the nation have become! - -A second powerful agency of negative selection was the immense colonial -empire which Spain so rapidly acquired, especially her American -conquests. The whole people was seized with the desire to enrich -themselves with the gold of the New World, and was fascinated by the -idea of imitating the romantic adventures of Cortes and Pizarro. Great -numbers of the bolder and most capable spirits set out for the New -World, and there either lost their lives or remained to mix their blood -with that of the native Indians or the imported negroes. In either case -their stock was lost to the mother country. - -The third and culminating cause was the career of military aggression -pursued by Charles V; this completed the extermination of the -aristocracy of ability and finally plunged Spain into an intellectual -torpor which has persisted ever since and from which she can only be -raised up by a succession of men of first-rate intellect and character: -men such as she seems incapable of producing, because her people has -thus been drained of all its most valuable elements, because her eugenic -stocks have been exterminated. - -The fall of Spain illustrates not only the operation of internal social -selection affecting certain mental qualities; it illustrates also once -more, even more clearly than the fall of Greece, the fact that the -civilisation of a people and its power and position in the world depend -altogether upon its intellectual aristocracy, and that the fall of a -people from a high place necessarily follows the failure to continue to -produce such an aristocracy. - -In the civilised nations of the modern world, the most important kind of -selection at work at the present time is what is distinguished as -'economic selection' working in conjunction with the formation of the -social classes. It has no doubt operated at various times among other -civilised peoples, but never so strongly and universally as at present. - -All the leading civilised nations have passed, in the eighteenth and -earlier part of the nineteenth centuries, through a period in which the -discoveries of science have enormously increased the productive powers -of man and man's control over, and power of resistance to, the forces of -nature. The result has been that everywhere civilised populations have -multiplied at a great rate, in a way that has never before occurred. But -now this period seems to have definitely come to an end, and to have -been succeeded by a new period characterised by three features which -threaten to exert a most deleterious effect upon the innate mental -qualities of peoples. - -(1) The world is becoming filled up; the untouched wealth of enormous -territories no longer lies open to the grasp of the bold and -enterprising. The coloured races are entering into the economic -competition in the way foreshadowed by the late C. H. Pearson[132]. The -high organisation of every form of economic activity renders the -competition for wealth everywhere extremely severe. And at the same time -men have come to regard as necessities of life what, but a few -generations ago, were the luxuries of the wealthy or unknown even to -them; that is to say, the standard of comfort has risen greatly. The -combined result of these changes is the increased difficulty of -maintaining a family in the upper strata of society. - -(2) There has been a great development of humanitarian sentiment, one -result of which has been the breaking down of class-barriers and the -perfecting of the social ladder; at the same time it has produced such -changes of our laws and institutions as tend in an ever increasing -degree to lighten the economic burdens of the poor and to consummate by -social organisation the abolition of natural selection; that is to say, -these changes are putting a stop to the repression by natural laws of -the multiplication of the less fit, those least well endowed mentally -and physically. The recent great decline of infant mortality is one -evidence of this. - -(3) The influence of religion and custom has weakened, and men are more -disposed to adopt the naturalistic point of view, to believe that this -life is not a mere preparation for an infinitely longer life elsewhere, -but that it is all they can certainly reckon upon and, therefore, is to -be made the most of; while at the same time they are oppressed by the -severity of the economic competition and by a sense of the lack of any -ultimate purpose, end, or sanction of human effort. - -The combined result of these three changes is a strong tendency to -reverse the operation by which nature has secured the evolution of -higher types of mind--namely, by breeding in the main from the higher -types in each generation. We see a tendency for the population to be -renewed in each generation preponderantly from the mentally inferior -elements, those whose outlook hardly extends beyond the immediate -future and who have not learnt to demand for themselves and their -children favoured positions in the great game of life. The effects of -these three changes operate in the following manner. The rate of -reproduction, the birth rate, of nearly all civilised countries is -falling rapidly (although the death rate also falls). This diminution of -rate of reproduction is due to increase of celibacy, abstention from -marriage, to increase of late marriage, and to voluntary restriction of -the number of the family in marriage. - -Now, it is shown statistically that this falling off of fertility -chiefly affects the classes above the average of ability, the upper and -middle classes and also the superior part of the artisan classes[133]. -These classes have been formed and are maintained by the operation of -social and economic competition; they have long been, and are still, -perpetually recruited in each generation from the lower strata, by the -rise into them of the abler members of the lower strata. Hence, economic -selection, under our present social system, seems to be working strongly -for the mental deterioration of the most highly civilised peoples; the -social ladder, becoming more nearly perfect, perpetually drains the mass -of a people of its best members, enabling them to rise to the upper -strata where they tend to become infertile[134]. Galton and Prof. Karl -Pearson have insisted most strongly upon these tendencies. But they have -not escaped the notice of continental authors. M. Jacobi[135] has -written a large volume packed with historical illustrations to prove -inductively the law that aristocracies always die out, or are only -maintained by constant recruiting from below, or in other words that -aristocracies tend to become infertile. And the modern tendency which we -have just now considered under the head of economic selection may be -regarded as falling under the head of this law, a case of the extension -of the law to democratic communities and the natural aristocracies of -ability which are generated in them. - -We may perhaps state the principal causes of this tendency in general -terms as follows: the acquirement by any class of leisure, culture, and -the habit of reflection (the malady of thought) partially emancipates -that class from the empire of instinct, custom, and the religious -sanctions of morality; and these are the great conservative agencies -under the influence of which men not so emancipated continue to multiply -according to the law of nature. These instincts, customs, and religious -sanctions of morality, which lead men to multiply freely, have been -acquired for the good of the race or of the society considered as an -organism whose life is of indefinitely long duration; and in some -respects they are opposed to the pleasure and welfare of the individual -life. The habit of reason and reflection tends to lead men to act for -their own immediate welfare, rather than for the future welfare of the -race or of society, and to refuse to make those sacrifices of ease and -to undertake those responsibilities and efforts which the care of a -family imposes and which alone can secure the welfare of the future -generations. It is in respect to these duties that the great antagonism -between religion and reason appears in its most significant aspect. - -The tendency for the upper classes to die out and to be replaced -constantly from the lower social strata by the aid of the social ladder -is no doubt stronger now than in foregoing ages. But it has always been -operative; and this is widely recognised; while the comfortable -inference has often been drawn that the process is not only inevitable -but actually beneficial and desirable. It is said that the upper classes -inevitably become effete, and that the lower constitute an inexhaustible -reservoir of mental and moral excellences, from which they are and can -be indefinitely renewed; and thus the population is always rising in the -social scale, a state of affairs which makes for social happiness. - -But, if we take a longer view, the prospect is not so comforting; it -seems only too probable that this constant dying away of society at the -top and the renewal of the upper strata from the lower, by the agency of -the social ladder, must sooner or later result in a serious -deterioration of the lower strata, at least in draining it of its best -stocks. There is also a return or downward current of less strength, -which returns to the lower strata the failures, the incompetents, and -the degenerates of the upper. And these two currents must, it would -seem, in the course of ages render it impossible for the lower strata to -continue to supply the superior elements required to maintain the upper. -If and when that stage is reached, national decay must set in. - -In England, where the operation of the social ladder has been more -effective and of longer duration than in any other country, there are -indications that this stage is at hand. Our social ladder has provided -and still provides a splendid array of talent, but already it has -produced, as its complement, a large mass of very inefficient -population. Foreign observers are constantly impressed with this; Mr -Collier Price[136], for example, tells us that the million best of our -population is the finest in the world; but that our lowest stratum is -the most degraded and hopelessly inefficient. - -Looking at the course of history widely, we may see, then, in the -differentiation of social classes by the social ladder and in the -tendency of the upper strata to fail to reproduce themselves, an -explanation of the cyclic course of civilisation. This has been ascribed -by some authors[137] to race-crossing, followed by blending, and -ultimately by stagnation consequent upon complete blending and the -flowering period which coincides with it. But we now have a more -adequate explanation of the decay which follows upon the blooming -period. It is not mere stagnation, resulting from the achievement of -social harmony and the relaxation of efforts at social adaptation and -achievement of all kinds. The decline is probably due as much, and -perhaps in a much higher degree, to the exhaustion of the mass of the -population, the completion of the draining process by which, throughout -the whole period of the development of the cycle of civilisation, the -best elements and strains have been drained off from the lower strata, -brought to the top, and strained off. - -It is interesting to speculate on the possible effect on this process of -the fact that we are becoming more clearly conscious of these tendencies -and subjecting them to scientific inquiry. Already the legislature has -taken one small step of a eugenic nature and is soon to take another. -The important thing is that we should recognise that men are not the -helpless sport of blind forces, that mankind can control its own destiny -in ever increasing degree as knowledge grows. - -A word may be said in regard to sexual selection, which probably played -a part in the evolution of the mental capacities of men. It would seem -that, in the peoples among whom monogamy is the rule, it no longer -operates to any appreciable degree. With the general excess of females, -we could suppose that it still tended to race improvement only if the -unmarried women were on the whole distinctly inferior to the married. -But, if there is any difference, it is probably the other way; because -the most able women are more and more attracted into independent -careers. The further the so-called emancipation of women goes, the more -will this be the case. - -Civilisation, then, tends from the first to put an end to that -elimination of the less fit individuals by the severities of Nature -which we call natural selection; and, as soon as it has passed beyond -its earliest stages, it brings to an end also the mortal conflicts of -social groups and the consequent group selection, which was in all -probability a main factor of racial progress in the prehistoric period. -It abolishes also at an early stage the improving influence of sexual -selection, which was probably the third principal condition of the -development of the higher powers of mankind. - -Civilisation replaces these modes of selection, which make for -improvement of the racial qualities of peoples, by a number of modes of -social selection, nearly all of which must have been, so far as we can -see, negative or reversed selections--that is, selections making for -deterioration of the mental qualities of the civilised peoples. In place -of natural selection, group selection, and sexual selection, we have had -at work, within each people in increasing degrees, various forms of -social selection--military selection, selection by the towns, selection -by the church, political selection with its exiles and its colonial -system, and lastly economic selection, which has become exceedingly -influential in recent years among ourselves. And all these, so far as -can be seen, have operated mainly, among some peoples and in some ages -very powerfully, to diminish the fertility of the best elements of the -population and so to produce actual retrogression of the average -intellectual capacity of peoples, and especially to deprive them of -eugenic stocks, the stocks which were most fertile in individuals of -exceptional capacity on whom the progress of civilisation and the -relative power of nations chiefly depend. - -M. de Lapouge's investigations of the matter have led him to a very -melancholy conclusion. He attaches especial importance to urban -selection, as he calls it, in weeding out the best stocks. He -writes--"There is no more agonising question than that of the exhaustion -of our intellectual reserves by the influence of city-life. The public -and our statesmen do not suspect it. But nevertheless it is the great -danger of modern societies and especially of France. Of all the -devastating influences which we have called social selections, selection -by the town makes most powerfully for deterioration of peoples. Our -towns are destroying all of the intelligent and energetic that have been -spared us by the long centuries of disastrous selections. France has -lost in the past almost all her dolicho-blond elements, and now are -disappearing those of mixed stock and the best of the short-headed type. -In all the continent of Europe the hour is at hand when there will -remain only the inert and used up debris of our dead nations, pitiable -remnants who will be the prey of unknown conquerors. Thus perished the -Hellenic world, thus will perish the whole of our civilisation, if man -does not make application of his knowledge of the principles of -heredity, that tremendous power which to-day is bringing death and -stagnation, but by the control of which science will enable us to secure -safety and national vigour[138]." - -It is possible that this conclusion gives too dark a picture of the -tendencies of social selection in the civilised nations; but it does -seem probable that with the advance of civilisation the tendency to -reversed selection becomes strong[139]. We are at any rate compelled to -conclude that it is impossible to discover evidence of any influences -that can have made at all strongly for progressive evolution of -intellectual capacity during the historic period; whereas a number of -forms of selection seem to have worked against it and must at least have -counterbalanced any factors making for improvement, and that therefore -no advance has taken place in intellectual capacity but more probably -some deterioration has already occurred. - -The conclusion thus reached deductively is well borne out by the small -amount of inductive evidence that is available. Such comparison as we -can make between the leading modern nations and the civilised nations of -antiquity tends rather to show that both as regards the average man, and -as regards the intellectual endowment of exceptional men and the -proportion of such men produced, the advantage lies with the ancient -peoples. And the comparison of skull capacity or size of brain decidedly -supports this conclusion. It has been found by a number of -anthropologists that the average skull capacity of men of the late Stone -Age in Europe was equal to, or greater than, that of modern Europeans. -And in the main, on the large average, intellectual capacity varies with -the size of the brain. - -Our seeming intellectual superiority is a superiority of the traditional -store of intellectual gains, a superiority of knowledge and of the -instruments of the intellect, of language, and of the methods of mental -operation by which knowledge is obtained, especially the mathematical -and scientific methods in general[140]. Consider a single example -frequently quoted to show the intellectual inferiority of the modern -savage. It is said--Here is a poor savage who cannot count above ten -without the help of his fingers and toes or other tallies; and we -generally forget that we also should be incapable of counting above ten, -had not our ancestors slowly devised the system of enumeration or verbal -counting, and that, given such a system, the poor savage would be able -to count as well as any of us. - -The reader may be prepared to accept this conclusion as regards the -intellectual capacities of mankind, and yet may be inclined to -say--Surely the civilised peoples have progressed as regards their moral -qualities throughout the historic period! Let us, therefore, consider -this point separately for a moment. - -Is there reason to believe that there has been progress of the innate -moral disposition during the historic period? Here we are on still more -difficult ground than when we considered the question of the progress of -innate intellectual capacity. - -The essence of the higher morality is the predominance of the altruistic -motives over the egoistic, in the deliberately reasoned control of -conduct. But morality in this sense is relatively rare in every age, and -the great mass of moral conduct of men in general is the issue of mental -processes of a simpler kind; it consists in doing what one believes to -be right, in acting according to what one believes to be one's duty; no -matter how that belief may have been arrived at. The tendency to do what -one believes to be right, which for the vast majority of men has always -been simply the tendency to conform to the code of morals accepted by -his society, has an innate basis which may properly be called the social -or moral disposition. At present I am not concerned to define the -elements of our nature which make up the moral disposition[141]. The -morality of a people, objectively considered, is the outcome of the -interaction between their moral disposition, on the one hand, and the -moral environment of the individuals, on the other; and the latter -consists of two parts: (1) the traditional system of precepts, customs, -laws, in short the code: (2) the traditional system of sanctions by -which the code is upheld and enforced. - -If we compare, in respect to this moral nature, the members of primitive -societies with those of highly civilised societies, applying simply the -criterion of conformity of conduct to the accepted code, we shall be -impelled to the conclusion that the former, the savages and barbarians, -have in general the moral nature much more highly developed than the -members of civilised societies; for they conform on the whole very much -more strictly to their moral codes. But such a conclusion would be -hardly fair to the civilised peoples; first, because their social -environment is more complex, so that the bearing of their moral code is -less simple and direct; it is less easily obeyed, because its teachings -are more generalised in form and do not provide clear irresistible -rulings for all or any large proportion of the much greater variety of -situations with which individuals find themselves confronted. Secondly, -because the code is a higher one and makes greater demands upon the -self-control of individuals. Thirdly, because not only is the code less -clear and direct, but also the sanctions of conduct, civil and -religious, are generally less obvious and immediate; and the -effectiveness of both code and sanctions is weakened by the -co-existence, within complex civilised societies, of more or less rival -codes and systems of sanctions, which inevitably weaken the authority of -one another; whereas the code and sanctions of the savage or barbarous -society reign absolutely and without rivalry, so that men are not led to -question their authority. - -The conditions of moral conduct are, then, so different as to forbid any -attempt to compare the innate moral dispositions of primitive and -civilised peoples; and all we can do, in order to arrive at an opinion, -is to consider whether the conditions have been such as to favour the -evolution of the moral disposition, the innate basis of the social -tendencies, during the nation-making period. - -There can, I think, be no doubt that the principal condition of the -evolution of the moral nature was group selection among primitive -societies constantly at war with one another. In conflicts of that kind -it must have been the solidarity of each group, resting upon the moral -dispositions of individuals, the tendency of each individual to conform -to the law and moral code of the society and to stand loyally by his -leaders and comrades, which, more than anything else, determined success -and survival in the struggle of the group for existence. At first, the -nature of the code must have been of relatively small importance; the -all important condition of survival of the group must have been the -strict obedience to it on the part of the members of the group. - -This is not a deduction only from general principles. One may observe -the effect of tribal conflict, on comparing, in various parts of the -world, tribes that have long been subjected to its influence with -closely allied tribes that have long led a peaceful existence[142]. - -At a later stage, as the traditional codes of morality became -differentiated and more complex with the increasing complexity of -societies, the nature of these codes must have acquired an increasing -influence in determining group survival; but it must still have been -subordinate in importance to the degree of development of the moral -disposition; for a society with an inferior moral code, strictly -conformed to by its members, would in the long run have better chances -of survival than one with a higher code less strictly observed. Hence, -the higher more difficult codes could only be attained by those peoples -among whom the instinctive basis of social conduct had become highly -evolved by a long process of group selection. - -But, on passing into the stage of settled societies of large extent, -that is to say, as peoples passed from the stage of tribal organisation -to that of national organisation, the evolution of the social -disposition through the mortal conflict of groups must have tended to -come to an end; because group selection became less active, the -conflicts between the larger and less numerous societies or groups -became rarer and also less fatal to the vanquished societies. In other -words, during the historic period failure in conflict has not usually -meant extermination; national cultures and the power and glory of -nations have come and gone, but the various peoples, the units of -conflict, have in the main survived their failures and persisted in -living. Group selection, the main condition of evolution of the social -disposition, has, therefore, been abolished; and of the various forms of -social selection operating within societies, the chief of which we have -briefly noticed, no one seems to have been of a nature to produce -further evolution of the social disposition; all of them must rather -have operated adversely to it. Military selection, selection by the -Church's rule of celibacy, political selection--all these must have -fallen most heavily on the individuals in whom the social disposition -was strong, whose conduct was influenced largely by the sense of duty, -and less by the individual impulses and desires. - -We may conclude, then, with some confidence that there has not been -further evolution of the innate moral disposition in the historic -period. This conclusion is greatly at variance with popular conceptions; -we are apt to pride ourselves upon our superior morality; to point to -our humanitarian laws and institutions, to our tenderness for the weak, -the poor, and the suffering; to our regard even for the welfare of -savage peoples, whom we no longer deliberately exterminate, and for -domestic animals; and to suppose that all this shows modern civilised -men to be innately superior in morality to their ancestors and to the -barbarous peoples. But our conclusion that the difference implies merely -an evolution of moral tradition, not of moral nature, will appear -probable if we reflect upon the fact that a widespread change of this -kind in respect to some department of conduct has sometimes been -produced within a very short space of time, even within the lifetime of -one generation. Take the attitude of Englishmen towards slavery and the -African slave trade. It is hardly more than half a century since large -numbers of Englishmen, or men of English origin, owned great gangs of -slaves or drew their wealth from slave labour; yet now most of us look -with horror upon slavery of every kind. Take the case of kindness to -domestic animals. It is a comparatively recent tradition; and, within -the memories of those who are not yet middle-aged, a great improvement -has taken place. Again, there are many persons who, while tender to -their domestic animals, are entirely brutal where wild animals are -concerned, since public opinion or traditional morality does not yet -bear so strongly upon our relations to them. Again, it is not long since -in our factories, our prisons, our schools, the most horrible tortures -were applied to our fellow citizens without provoking any protest; while -now we display perhaps an excessive tenderness and have passed law after -law to protect the feeble against the strong. - -The mental development of peoples in the historic period has, therefore, -not consisted in, nor been caused by, nor in all probability has it -been accompanied by, any appreciable evolution of innate intellectual or -moral capacities beyond the degrees achieved in the race-making period, -before the modern nations began to take shape. There is no reason to -think that we are intellectually or morally superior by nature to our -savage ancestors. Such superiority of morals and intellectual power as -we enjoy has resulted from the improvement and extension of the -intellectual and moral traditions and the accompanying evolution of -social organisation. - -A different conclusion was reached by the late Benjamin Kidd in his -_Social Evolution_, which has enjoyed a very wide circulation[143], and -it seems worth while therefore to examine very briefly the author's -position. Mr Kidd saw clearly and argued convincingly that the innate -intellectual capacities have not improved during the historic period; -but he held that the innate moral tendencies have been greatly improved -during this period; or rather he distinguished between the innate moral -tendencies and the innate religious tendencies; and, while rejecting -Herbert Spencer's view that the moral tendencies (as thus arbitrarily -distinguished from the religious tendencies) are slowly becoming -improved and strengthened in the civilised peoples, he held that the -innate religious tendencies are being greatly improved and strengthened; -and he regarded this as the underlying condition of all 'social -evolution.' In support of his view he cited an impressive array of facts -illustrating the general softening of manners and morals among the -civilised peoples, especially the legislative changes which have given -political power to the masses of the people. That these evidences of a -general softening of manners and a great extension of social sympathy -are very striking we must all agree; but Kidd advanced no serious -argument in favour of his contention that these changes have been due to -some change or improvement of the innate qualities of the peoples among -whom they have appeared. And he did not suggest any way in which this -alleged improvement or accentuation of the innate religious tendencies -may have been brought about. He attributed it wholly to the influence of -the Christian religion. Now, if Kidd had accepted the Lamarckian -principle of the transmission of acquired tendencies or effects of use -and habit, he might reasonably have attributed the alleged improvement -to such influence. But he sternly rejected that principle and proclaimed -himself a rigid exponent of the Neo-Darwinian school, which attributes -all racial changes to selection. He even assumed the truth of the -doctrine that, in the absence of selective processes making for its -improvement, every race must inevitably degenerate. It might, then, have -been expected that he would have attempted to show how Christianity can -be supposed to have favoured the improvement by selection of the innate -religious tendencies. Yet he made no attempt in this direction. He seems -to have been aware that his view encounters a great difficulty in the -fact that Christianity powerfully swayed the peoples of Europe for many -centuries during which little or no progress in civilisation was -effected, whereas rapid and accelerating progress of many kinds has -marked the last three centuries. He sought to meet this difficulty by -attributing the rapid progress of recent centuries to the influence of -the Protestant form of Christianity, alleging that it promotes the -evolution of the religious tendencies more powerfully than other forms. -Yet this view of the matter, even if it were acceptable, would leave the -Reformation itself quite unexplained. Kidd seems to hint that, -throughout the earlier centuries of the dominance of the Christian -religion in Europe, it was slowly effecting the alleged improvement of -the religious tendencies in the mass of the people, without these being -able to manifest themselves in social life, until they somehow broke -loose at the time of the Reformation and began for the first time to -operate on a great scale and with tremendous force. The view might have -some plausibility coming from the mouth of a disciple of Lamarck, but it -cannot be reconciled with Kidd's strictly Neo-Darwinian principles. -There is, then, nothing in Kidd's grandiloquent and loosely reasoned, -but always interesting pages, to justify any belief in the improvement -of the innate moral disposition during the historic period[144]. - -Before leaving this difficult question of the extent and nature of -changes in the innate qualities of peoples during the historic period, I -would define in the following way the position that seems to me to be -well founded. There have been no considerable changes of innate -qualities; and what changes have occurred have probably been of the -nature of retrogression, rather than of advance or improvement; and this -is true of both intellectual and moral qualities. The improvements of -civilised peoples are wholly improvements of the intellectual and moral -traditions. All the great and obvious changes of social life are in the -main changes of these traditions. Nevertheless, such differences of -innate qualities as exist between the different peoples are very -important, because of their cumulative influence upon their traditions. -And, especially, the innate superiorities of the leading peoples, though -relatively small, are of essential significance; and it is of the first -importance for the future prosperity of the great nations of the present -time that they should not suffer any deterioration of their innate -qualities; for they alone have attained just such a level of innate -excellence as renders possible the existence of civilisation and the -growth and continued progress of great nations. Especially is it -essential that they should continue to produce in large numbers those -persons of exceptional moral and intellectual endowments, whose -influence alone can maintain the vitality of the national traditions and -who alone can add anything of value to them. - - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -THE PROGRESS OF NATIONS IN THEIR YOUTH - - -We have found reason to believe that during the historic period the -peoples of Europe have made no progress in innate qualities, moral or -intellectual; yet that period has been characterised by immense mental -development, a development essentially of the collective mind. The most -striking result of the formation of nations and the development of -civilisation has been this replacement of the progress of the individual -mind by the progress of the collective national mind. And the most -interesting and important problem of group psychology is--What are the -conditions of the progressive development of the collective mind? - -I insist that this is distinctly and primarily a psychological problem. -The conclusion we have just reached, to the effect that it is not -produced by and does not imply a racial evolution, shows that it is not -to be regarded as a biological problem. It cannot be treated as a -problem of economics or of politics; these sciences only touch its -fringe at special points. - -We have before us the significant fact that in some cases the collective -mind of a nation has remained stationary at a rudimentary stage of -development for long ages; while in other nations the collective mind -has developed at a constantly accelerating rate, becoming more highly -differentiated and specialised and at the same time more highly -integrated, has in fact developed in a way closely analogous to the -evolution of the individual mind. The collective mind, in thus -developing, reacts upon the development of individual minds, raising all -far above the level they could independently attain and some in each -generation to a very high level both intellectually and morally. - -The merest outline of a discussion of this great problem is alone -possible. I can do no more than offer some suggestions toward the full -solution of it. Let us note, first, that continued progress, far from -being the rule, as is commonly assumed by popular writers, has been a -rare exception, as Sir H. Maine pointed out in _Ancient Law_. He -wrote--"In spite of overwhelming evidence, it is most difficult for a -citizen of Western Europe to bring thoroughly home to himself the truth -that the civilisation which surrounds him is a rare exception in the -history of the world." "It is indisputable that much the greatest part -of mankind has never shown a particle of desire that its civil -institutions should be improved, since the moment when external -completeness was first given to their embodiment in some permanent -record. Except in a small section of the world, there has been nothing -like the gradual amelioration of a legal system." And what is true of -systems of law is true of all the other elements of the intellectual and -moral tradition which constitute a civilisation or national culture. - -Sir H. Maine added--"The difference between the stationary and -progressive societies is, however, one of the great secrets which -inquiry has yet to penetrate." His own contribution, which he regarded -as a partial solution only, was that the difference depends in part upon -the period at which the customs of a people become codified in written -law. If, as the tribes of a people become settled and enter upon a -national existence, there is no written code of law and custom, customs, -he urged, which at their origin were socially advantageous tend to -become extended by analogy to other fields of practice and to assume an -excessive and senseless rigour; for example, the custom of cleanliness -becomes the exceedingly elaborate ritual of purification, which among -the Hindus limits and restrains social life at every point. Or a useful -distinction of classes becomes a rigid caste system, than which nothing -is more prejudicial to progress, intellectual or moral. The continuation -of the process of extension by analogy through long ages has resulted in -nearly all the uncivilised and less civilised peoples of the modern -world being bound down on every hand by a system of rigid and worse than -useless customs, which, restricting both thought and action, render -progress impossible. On the other hand, early codification of custom in -a system of written laws secures that thereafter custom shall not -develop in this blind unintelligent and socially prejudicial manner, but -shall be developed only by deliberate intention and the reasoned -fore-thought of the ruling powers of society; it will then develop in -the main, in spite of many mistakes, in a way which promotes the -efficiency of social life and the welfare of society. - -Maine's suggestion is in harmony with the fact that the progressive -peoples have not been those who invented or learnt the art of writing at -an early period. Writing and the written codification of customary law -could not be invented by any people until they had attained to a settled -life and a considerable degree of social organisation; and then, when -the invention was worked out sufficiently, the damage had been done, -socially advantageous customs had already degenerated into useless rites -and ceremonial observances; and writing served only to establish these -more firmly, to fix their yoke upon the necks of the people, as in the -case of the Hindus. - -On the other hand, the progressive peoples have been those who remained -in a savage or barbarous condition until a relatively late period, and -who then acquired by imitation the arts of writing and of reducing -custom to written law, acquired them in a fully developed condition from -the peoples who had invented and developed these arts. They have, -therefore, enjoyed the advantages of written laws from the beginning of -their civilisation. - -But, as Maine recognised, the acquisition of writing at the outset of -national life is by no means sufficient to account for the -progressiveness of the nations of South and Western Europe; we must seek -other causes and conditions of their mental progress. - -We have already noted certain features of the racial constitution which -were probably essential to the continued progress of the European -peoples--namely, the high degree of evolution of the social disposition -through group selection in the long prehistoric or race-making period; a -group selection which probably was far more severe and prolonged than -the peoples of any other part of the world were subjected to; and which -in turn was due probably, as we have seen, to the great diversity of -physical surroundings and to the comparative severity of the climate of -Europe, especially of the northerly parts in which the most progressive -European race was formed; for these physical conditions generated in the -race an innate energy, a capacity for sustained effort. - -Without the highly developed social disposition in the mass of their -members, primitive societies could not have survived those changes of -custom and institution which were essential features of their progress. -Without their innate energy, active rivalry and competition, which have -been chief factors in social progress, would not have been constant -features of the relations of these societies. Still the possession of a -highly evolved social disposition by the European peoples does not in -itself suffice to account for the continued mental evolution of the -leading nations. For not all the European peoples have progressed; and, -of those that have progressed, some have done so much more effectively -than others. - -Let us first examine the question--In what has progress primarily -consisted? Has it been primarily a progress of the moral or of the -intellectual traditions? As I mentioned in an earlier chapter, we have -here one of the main points of dispute. - -Buckle was the great advocate of the primacy of intellectual development -in the sense of increase of natural knowledge. The argument by which he -sought to establish the position runs as follows: Progress must have -been due to improvement either of moral or of intellectual principles. -But moral principles have been almost the same in all ages. "To do good -to others; to love your neighbour as yourself; to honour your -parents--these and a few others, are the sole essentials of morals; but -they have been known for thousands of years, and not one jot or tittle -has been added to them by all the sermons, homilies and text-books which -moralists and theologians have been able to produce." On the other hand, -knowledge and intellectual principles have made immense strides; hence -all progress must have been primarily intellectual rather than moral. -Buckle did not deny that there has been some moral progress; rather he -insisted upon it as an essential feature of the progress of -civilisation; but it has, according to him, consisted only in the more -effective operation of unchanging principles, and this more effective -operation is secondary to, and due to, intellectual progress. - -I think we must agree with Buckle that the increasing store of knowledge -and the increased command over nature that comes with it has been the -primary condition of the progress of nations. For, since the early -middle ages, the moral natures of men and the teaching of Christianity -have been the same in all essentials; yet for many centuries there was -practically no progress. Kidd himself admitted that progress only set in -rapidly about the time of the Reformation. And it is notorious that this -progress, including the Reformation itself, was due to the stimulation -of the intellect by a number of influences--by the renewed study of -classical art and literature, by the discovery of the New World, by the -increased intercourse of nations resulting from the improvement of the -art of navigation, by the accumulation of wealth and the formation of a -powerful middle class. It is clear also that religion, far from having -been the sufficient cause or instrument of progress, was largely -responsible for the stagnation of the middle ages, through sternly -repressing the sceptical spirit and leading off men's minds from -inquiry into natural laws, to the discussion of many topics on which it -was impossible to achieve knowledge and which were necessarily barren of -results making for human progress. Nevertheless the Christian religion -has in the long run co-operated in forwarding the mental evolution of -the European peoples in an important manner which we must briefly -consider later--namely, through its effects upon social organisation. - -Without raising the question of the natural or supernatural origin of -religion or of any particular religion, we may say that from the point -of view of national life, a religion is essentially a system of -supernatural sanctions for social conduct, for conduct conforming to the -moral code of the society, and especially for customs regulating the -family and the relations of the sexes, on which, more than on anything -else, social stability depends. It is, thus, the great conservative -agency; for it enforces the observance of custom by a system of rewards -and punishments; in the earlier stages of society, especially by -punishments. It is essentially intolerant of change of custom or belief; -and even the Christian religion has exemplified this principle in the -terrible persecutions and innumerable wars for which it has been -responsible. - -The great function and tendency of any religion, once established among -a people, is to preserve intact the current moral code and to secure -conformity to it. Nevertheless, some religions are less prohibitive of -progress than others; and, when such a religion replaces a more -restrictive one, an important condition of progress is realised. But, in -so far as progress is then favoured, this is not due to the changed -operations of the religious emotions and sentiments; it is due to the -great religious teachers who have succeeded in breaking down the bonds -imposed by the more primitive religion, and so have given freer play to -the intellectual faculties; the improvements of religious systems have -been negative or permissive conditions of progress, rather than its -effective cause. - -Progress has, then, always resulted primarily from the gains made by the -intellect and added to the intellectual tradition, that is to say, from -the progress of knowledge. Nevertheless, the free play of the intellect -is always a danger to society, for the reason that the customs and moral -code of a society, however imperfect and sanctioned by a religion -however narrow, are yet the bonds by which alone it can be held -together; to their influence has been largely due in every age the -subordination by the members of a society of their individual egoistic -ends to the welfare of the society as a whole. - -The spirit of inquiry, which always leads men to question the authority -of these customs and moral codes and of their religious sanctions and -thus tends to weaken them, is, then, a socially disruptive force, at the -same time that it is the source of all progress. Hence, though the free -play of the intellect and of the spirit of inquiry may secure for a time -the rapid progress of civilisation, it cannot alone secure continued -progress. Continued progress has only resulted where there has been -maintained a happy balance between the conservative and the progressive -forces, between the authority of custom and the moral code on the one -hand and the free activity of the intellect on the other. Wherever the -progressive force has outrun the conservative, progress has been first -rapid and then has come abruptly to an end. Greece exemplified this -process in the clearest manner. It was the excessive seeking of -individuals for their own power and glory, unrestrained by the customs -and religious systems which their intellect had outgrown, that ruptured -the bonds of society, plunged the State into war and civil strife, and -eventually destroyed it by the extermination of the Greek aristocracy. -The same is true of the brilliant but brief periods of rapid progress -exhibited by the medieval Italian States. Intellect outran and -undermined morals, and progress was brought to an end. - -Some observers have maintained that history will pass the same verdict -upon modern France, and that most of our leading nations of the present -day are seriously threatened by the same danger. - -Any long continued progressive evolution of the mind of a people has -been, then, a rare exception in the history of the world; partly because -the free play of the spirit of inquiry and of the intellectual -faculties, which is the source of all progress, exerts a socially -disruptive tendency, so that progress is by its very nature dangerous to -the stability of any nation; but partly also because the free play of -the spirit of inquiry has been so rarely achieved or permitted, so that -even such progress as has led on to social disruption has been -exceptional. - -A long period of intellectual and moral stagnation in the rigid bonds of -custom and religion has been the rule for nearly all the peoples of the -earth, so soon as they had attained to a settled mode of existence. The -primary question, then, to be answered in seeking to account for the -progress of nations, is--What conditions enabled the spirit of inquiry to -break the bonds of custom and religion and to extend man's knowledge of -man and of the world in which he lives? - -Bagehot, in considering more particularly the progress of political -institutions, put the problem in much the same way. He pointed out that -the first age of the life of nations is always an age dominated by -custom resting on unquestioned religious sanctions; an age in which -there is often a vast amount of discussion of detail, as, for example, -discussion of the details of military expeditions, but never discussion -of principles; and he maintained that an age marked by the discussion of -principles, involving the questioning of traditions, moral and -intellectual, initiates and characterises every period of progress. - -There is much to be said for the view that the most important condition -of progress in its earlier stages was in most cases, perhaps in all, the -conquest of a more primitive people by one more advanced in culture or -of superior racial type, who remained to settle in the conquered -territory, and, not driving out or exterminating the conquered -inhabitants, established themselves as a governing class. History and -archaeology show that this occurred at least once in most of the areas -where nations have developed spontaneously to any considerable degree; -the earliest known instances being those of Egypt and Chaldea as long as -ten thousand years ago. The same thing occurred again in India, and -later still in Greece; and throughout early European history the process -was frequently repeated in various areas. Every one of the modern -peoples of Europe has been formed through such fusion by conquest of two -peoples, in some instances several times repeated; and, though none of -these modern European peoples originated their own civilisations, but -largely took over by imitation the civilisation ready made for them by -the more precocious peoples of Asia and by Greece and Rome, these -fusions and the resultant composite character of the European peoples no -doubt have tended greatly to promote progress. And it is easy to see how -in several ways such a fusion by conquest of two peoples must have -tended to set free the spirit of inquiry, that prime condition of -progress. Three of these seem to have been of chief importance. - -The most obvious way in which progress has been promoted was that the -conquering invaders became a leisured aristocracy, having their material -needs supplied by the labour of the indigenous population, which became -a more or less servile class. All the ancient civilisations were thus -founded upon servile labour. We may be sure that, until such a social -system resulted from conquest, no people made much progress; because all -individuals were fully occupied in securing their means of subsistence, -either by warfare, by the tending of herds, or by agriculture. Each -people was self-supporting, and knew no or few needs beyond those which -their own labour was able to supply; and labour was individual, or was -co-operative only among small groups, such as the communal family -groups. It could, therefore, undertake no great works, whether of -building or engineering, such as large public buildings, irrigation, or -road making. Each family consumed what it produced, and consequently -there was no large accumulation of capital; for there were no motives -for storing up their primitive wealth, and generally no wealth of -durable and storable form. - -But, as soon as a ruling class could dispose of the labour of a large -part of the population, making them work for a mere subsistence wage, -there was initiated that regime of capital and labour on which, up to -the present time, all civilisation has been founded. Wealth was -accumulated; great works, such as the pyramids, demanding enormous -expenditure of human life and work, could be undertaken; and a leisured -class was created, which, being freed from the necessity of bodily toil, -was able to turn its energy to speculative inquiry, to the enjoyment of -art and luxury, to directing and organising the labour of the multitude, -to inventing the tools that render labour more effective, to studying -natural phenomena such as the cycle of the seasons, a more accurate -knowledge of which added to the productivity of labour; for it was in -the service of wealth production, that in the main science arose, -especially mathematics and mechanical and astronomical science, -arithmetic and geometry through the need of a practical art of -measurement, astronomical science through the need of foreseeing the -seasons. - -The desire to enjoy art and luxury is one which feeds itself and grows, -when once aroused; and it was these growing desires of the leisured and -wealthy classes which created trade, or at any rate first developed it -beyond the merest rudiments; and in doing so led to regular and friendly -intercourse between nations. - -A second very important result of such fusion by conquest must have been -the breaking up to some extent of custom and the weakening of the -religious sanctions. Under the new regime, both the conquering and the -conquered peoples would find their old customs unsuited to their novel -social relations, and inadequate to regulate their changed occupations. -The old customs of both would inevitably be thrown into the melting pot; -at the same time the religious sanctions of both would be weakened by -the intimate contact of two systems, neither of which, in the presence -of a rival system, would henceforth be able to claim unquestioned -authority, until one had suppressed the other or a stable synthesis of -the two had been effected. So long as each individual never had -intercourse with any but those who accepted the national or tribal -religion, it was well-nigh impossible for anyone to question its -authority; but as soon as the devotees of two religions lived -intermixed, the question--Which religion was true? must inevitably have -arisen in some minds. The weight of custom and of religious sanctions, -which lies so heavily on a primitive society, restricting all -enterprise, forbidding inquiry and repressing the use of the -intellectual powers, would thus be lightened and scope be given for -experiment in thought and action. And either people, coming into more or -less intimate contact for the first time with a system of beliefs and -customs and institutions other than their own, must have been led to -compare, discuss, and reflect upon these things; the sceptical spirit -and the intellect must have been greatly stimulated. There must have -been a conflict of ideas and the initiation of an age of discussion. In -short such a fusion by conquest must have broken up what Bagehot calls -the 'cake of custom' as nothing else could, and so have rendered the -intellectual and moral traditions once more plastic and capable of -progress. - -No doubt in many cases such disintegration of the old systems went too -far, and the society, before it could evolve anew a sufficiently strong -and adequate system of customs and sanctions, went to pieces. In modern -times many primitive societies have been broken up and destroyed in just -this way--namely, their customs and the religious sanctions of their -morality have been undermined and weakened by the contact of the more -complex systems of civilised men, and they have not been able to -assimilate the new system rapidly enough to enable it effectively to -replace their own shaken and decaying code. - -A third way in which the fusion by conquest of two peoples must have -made for progress was by biological blending, the crossing by -intermarriage of the two stocks. We have seen that there is a -considerable amount of evidence to show that, when two stocks are very -widely different in mental and physical characters, the result of -crossing is likely to be bad, the crossed race is likely to be inferior -to, and less fit for the battle of life than, both parental stocks; the -characters of individuals will be apt to be made up of a number of -elements more or less inconsistent with one another; such a composite -character made up of inharmonious elements will be apt to be unstable -and constantly at war with itself. Character of this kind and the tragic -struggles to which it is liable to find itself committed has been well -described in fiction by a number of authors, especially in stories of -the Mulattoes of America. On the physical side it has been shown that -such cross-bred races tend to die out owing to lack of balance of the -physical constitution. - -On the other hand, we saw that the crossing of two closely allied racial -stocks seems to have a tendency to produce a cross-bred race superior to -both parent stocks, and especially to produce a variable stock. It is, I -think, probable that the frequently repeated blending of allied stocks -in Europe has been the fundamental biological condition of the capacity -of the European peoples for progressive national life. - -In the case of the conquest of one people by another differing very -markedly in racial qualities, there seem to be two alternatives equally -prejudicial to the continued progress of the nation so formed. On the -one hand, free intermarriage may take place, resulting in an inferior -cross-bred race incapable of high civilisation, as seems to have -occurred in most of the countries of South America, where it is with the -greatest difficulty that the outward forms of the high civilisation -which they have imitated from Europe are maintained. On the other hand, -where especially the outward physical characters are very different, the -conquering people may hold itself apart from the conquered, and maintain -itself as a ruling class, which prides itself on the purity of its blood -and which tends to harden into a caste. Such conquest without subsequent -blending gives rise to a civilisation which, being founded upon a rigid -caste system, is incapable of continued progress. This is what has -happened in India. The fair-skinned Aryan invaders despised the -dark-skinned indigenous peoples, whom they spoke of as being scarcely -human, and, in spite of a good deal of crossing, they have in theory and -in the case of the Brahmans at least to a considerable extent in -practice, maintained the purity of their blood, by means of the -development of the caste system. - -Europe on the other hand was fortunate in that all the different -peoples, or most of the peoples, from which its nations have been formed -were of allied race; they were all, with few exceptions, of the white -race, sufficiently nearly allied not to produce inferior cross-races but -rather to produce some superior subraces. The conquered peoples have -been so similar to their conquerors in physical type that crossing could -take place without the cross-bred offspring bearing the indelible marks -of inferior or mixed parentage, such as a dark skin or a woolly head. -Hence, although caste systems were formed, they did not prove rigid; -free intermarriage took place, and it was not impossible for individuals -of the conquered race or of the mixed stock to rise into the superior -ruling class. The importance of this may be seen, on reflecting how the -merest trace of negro-blood in individuals of mixed origin in North -America is apt to show itself in the physical features and how, even in -that enlightened and Christian country, a trace so revealed suffices to -condemn a man, no matter how great his powers or refined his character, -to remain a member of the inferior caste. - -But, apart from the possible improvement of the racial qualities of the -whole people, or of the average individuals in general, which may well -have occurred in Europe, the biological blending of allied races may -give important advantages to the resulting people in another way--namely, -by increasing its variability, the variability of its mental qualities. -If a people is extremely homogeneous in the racial sense, it may be -expected to display little variability, its members will be of -essentially similar mental qualities and of a uniform level of mental -capacity; and this will tend to make them a very stable, but a very -conservative unprogressive, nation. This seems to be true of China, and -to be in large part the source of its extreme stability and extreme -conservatism. - -Where, on the other hand, a people is formed by the intimate blending by -intermarriage of two or more racial stocks, it is likely to be a -variable one; there will be large departures in many directions from the -average type of mental ability, and there will be individuals varying by -excess of development of various capacities as well as others varying by -defect of development. - -And a people of variable and therefore widely diversified mental -capacities will, even though its average capacity is no greater than -that of a more homogeneous people, be more likely to make progress in -civilisation, and this for three reasons. - -First, variability is the essential condition of all race progress by -biological adaptation; for it is by the selection of variations, the -survival and multiplication of types varying in certain directions in -larger proportions than the average type, that all race progress and -adaptation seems to have been achieved. Hence, increased variability, -resulting from the blending of races, will render a people so formed -capable of race progress and of more rapid adaptation; for example, in -the peoples of Northern Europe it would have favoured the adaptation of -the constitutions of the people to the severity of the climate and to -those peculiar social conditions which, as we have seen reason to -believe, have been the source of their unique combination of qualities. - -Secondly, variability of mental qualities would be favourable to the -coming of the age of discussion; for in such a people custom would rule -with less force, its sway would be more apt to be questioned and -disputed, than among a highly homogeneous people. - -Thirdly, and this is probably the most important manner in which race -blending has favoured the progress of nations, among the variations from -the average type produced by race crossing would be men of exceptional -capacities in various directions. - -We have already noted that all progress of the intellectual and moral -traditions eventually depends upon the activities of men of exceptional -powers of various kinds, upon the great religious or ethical teacher, -the inventor, the artist, the discoverer. A people may, like the -Chinese, have a high average capacity of intellectual ability; but, if -it cannot from time to time produce men of far more than average -capacity along various lines, it will not progress very far -spontaneously. Exceptional intellectual capacity is, however, a -variation from the type, as the biologists say, just such as may be -expected to result from race blending; there will be, among the -variations in all directions, variations in the direction of exceptional -capacity of various kinds. Hence a nation of blended variable stocks -will, other things being the same, be far more likely to be capable of -continued evolution than a homogeneous people of equal average mental -capacity, among whom few men are capable of rising to any distinguished -height. - -This view of the effects of race blending is borne out empirically by -the comparison of the peoples of the world. The European peoples have -been the most progressive, and they, more than all others, have been -formed by repeated blendings of allied stocks. Within Europe it is the -peoples among whom this blending has been carried furthest who have -proved most progressive--the French, the English, and the Italian; and, -conversely, the least blended peoples have been the most backward, and -have contributed least to the general progress of civilisation in -Europe; for example the large, almost purely Slav, population which -forms the bulk of the Russian nation. - -We pass on to consider other conditions which have contributed to -setting free and stimulating the spirit of inquiry. We have seen that -physical environment played a predominant part in moulding the mental -qualities of races in the prehistoric period. And we must recognise -that, although with the beginning of settled national life it probably -ceased to modify race-qualities to any considerable extent, it has yet -been important in favouring the rapid evolution of the intellectual -tradition of some peoples, and this in several ways. First, by its -direct influence upon the minds of individuals. Buckle and others have -pointed out that, while, in India and throughout a great part of Asia, -the physical environment was unfavourable to intellectual progress, -while its vast and terrible aspects fertilised the superstition of the -people, and repressed the spirit of inquiry by rendering hopeless any -attempt to cope with its terrific displays of force, in Europe and -especially in South and Western Europe, the comparatively small scale on -which the physical features are planned and the relative feebleness of -the forces of nature encouraged men to adopt a bolder attitude towards -them. - -Buckle, contrasting Greece with India in this respect, showed how the -physical features of both countries were reflected in their national -cultures; how, while the Hindus cringed in fear before monstrous and -cruel gods, the Greeks fashioned their gods in their own image, simply -personifying each leading human attribute, and made of them a genial -family of beings, differing from men and women in little but their -immortality and their superior facilities for the enjoyment of life. In -general the buoyancy and serenity of the Greek attitude towards life and -nature reflected the beautiful, secure and diversified aspects of their -physical environment. In such an atmosphere the spirit of inquiry would -naturally flourish more freely than where man's spirit was oppressed by -the fear of terrible and uncontrollable forces and where he was made to -feel too keenly the limitations of his mental and physical powers. -Buckle summed up his review of these effects as follows:--"In the -civilisations exterior to Europe, all nature conspired to increase the -authority of the imaginative faculties and to weaken the authority of -the reasoning ones. In Europe has operated a law the reverse of this, by -virtue of which the tendency of natural phenomena is, on the whole, to -limit the imagination, and embolden the understanding; thus inspiring -man with confidence in his own resources, and facilitating the increase -of his knowledge, by encouraging that bold, inquisitive and scientific -spirit, which is constantly advancing and on which all future progress -must depend." - -I think we must accept this view of the importance of the direct action -of physical environment on the minds of individuals. To deny, as Hegel -did, the important influence of physical environment upon the -development of Greek culture, because the Turks have enjoyed a similar -climate without producing a similar culture, is unreasonable. The -progress of civilisation has always been the result of a multiplicity of -causes and conditions; and we cannot deny all importance to any one, -whether race or climate or social organisation or religion or any other, -because in some particular instance it has failed to produce the -progress of which in other instances it has been one of a number of -co-operating causes. - -The diversity and small scale of the physical features of South and -Western Europe has favoured the progress of the intellectual tradition -in another important way. The land is divided by natural barriers into a -number of natural territories, the population of each of which has -naturally tended to become one nation and to develop a national culture. -In this way there arose a number of nations and States in close -proximity with one another, yet each developing along its own lines. -When the development of wealth and commerce brought these diversified -cultures into friendly intercourse with one another, the exchange of -ideas and the general imitation of the useful arts of one people by its -neighbours must have made very strongly for progress; the culture of -each of a group of neighbouring peoples no longer progressed only by the -addition of the ideas and inventions of its own exceptional intellects, -but each group had the opportunity of selecting and imitatively adopting -whatever seemed to them best among the ideas, the arts and inventions of -the neighbouring peoples. - -It is generally admitted that this was one of the main conditions of the -rapid development of the culture of the ancient Greeks, situated as they -were within easy reach of several of the oldest civilisations, those of -Egypt and of South-Eastern Asia; they were also within reach of a number -of less civilised peoples, and therefore enjoyed opportunities for trade -of a kind which, being peculiarly lucrative, has in all ages hastened -the acquisition of wealth and capital and stimulated the development of -commerce. All the most progressive European peoples have enjoyed similar -advantages; and it has been maintained with some plausibility that the -principal cause of the shifting of the centre of progressive -civilisation from the Eastern Mediterranean to the west of Europe has -been the improvement of the art of navigation and the discovery of the -New World and of the sea route to Asia and the East Indies; for these -gave the western countries the most advantageous positions for the -conduct of a world wide commerce. No doubt the factor mentioned has been -important in producing this change. - -But, when we consider the ancient European civilisations and compare -them with our own, we realize that, in spite of all the circumstances -which we have enumerated and briefly considered as factors stimulating -the spirit of inquiry and making for progress of their intellectual -tradition, and in spite of their brilliant and in some respects -unapproachable achievements, they were nevertheless radically incapable -of continued progress. Greek civilisation certainly progressed at a -marvellous rate for some centuries; yet there is every reason to believe -that it bore within itself the inevitable causes of its ultimate decay -or stagnation. And, when we consider Roman civilisation, we see that, -through all the long centuries of the greatness of Rome, it was -essentially unprogressive. There was no continued evolution of the -national mind and character. Save in respect to the single province of -law, Roman civilisation, when it entered upon the period of its decay, -had not appreciably progressed in any essential respects beyond the -stage reached more than a thousand years earlier. Rome was in fact less -truly a nation in its later than in its earlier age. It had -superficially imitated rather more of Greek culture and it had -incorporated a number of bizarre elements from the many peoples which -had been brought under the sway of the Roman sceptre; but neither in -religion, nor in philosophy, nor art, nor science, nor in any of the -practical modes of controlling the forces of nature, had it made any -substantial gains; and its social organisation tended more and more to -the type of a centralised irresponsible bureaucracy[145]. - -On the other hand, it cannot be denied that in the last thousand years -the nations of Western Europe have made immense progress; nor that this -progress has been accelerating from century to century in a way which -seemed to reach a climax in the wonderful century just closed; though -there appears good prospect of continued progress and perhaps of -continued acceleration throughout the century to come and perhaps for -many more. - -What then is the cause of this great difference between the civilisation -of Western Europe and all preceding civilisations? The difference is, I -think, essentially due to difference of social organisation. As argued -in a previous chapter, social organisation was of less influence in the -earlier ages, but has assumed a constantly increasing importance -throughout the evolution of civilisation; and it is now predominant over -all other conditions. We must, then, first define this difference of -social organisation; secondly, we must show how it makes for progress; -and thirdly, conjecture how the social organisation of Western Europe, -so favourable to the continued development of nations, has been brought -about. - -The great difference which divides the social organisation of the modern -progressive peoples from that of all the ancient European civilisations -is that, under it, the individual enjoys greater liberty and more -securely founded rights as against the community, and as against all -other individuals. This change is summed up in Sir H. Maine's dictum -that "the movement of progressive societies has hitherto been a movement -from status to contract." - -All the ancient civilised societies, Greece and Rome no less than all -the others, rested upon the fundamental assumption of the absolute -supremacy of the State, the assumption that the individual existed only -for the State and that the welfare of the State was the supreme end to -which all individual rights and liberties must be subordinated -absolutely, was the end to the securing of which all custom, and all -law, all social and family relations and institutions and religion -itself were but the means. And the State was a politico-religious -organisation, membership of which implied the blood-relationship of its -citizens and a common participation in the state-religion; while the -State gods were conceived as being themselves ancestors, or in some -other way kinsmen, of the citizens[146]. This bond of blood or kinship -between the members of the State and its gods went back to the earliest -times. It is the rule of almost all savage peoples; and the religious -rites of many include some rite symbolising or renewing this blood bond, -such as smearing the blood of the kinsmen on the altars of the gods, or -drinking the blood of some animal which is held to be the symbolic -representative of the god. And the supreme end of the State itself was -the increase of its own power and stability, through the exercise of -military power and through military conquest. - -All human beings outside the State, outside this -moral-politico-religious-bond, were regarded as _prima facie_ enemies of -the State, without rights of any sort, without even the slightest claim -to humane treatment. Hence, in war the slaughter of the conquered was -the rule; and the practice of making slaves of prisoners of war and of -conquered peoples only arose through its profitableness, and was -regarded as a great concession to the victims, whose natural fate was -sudden death. Under this system, which inevitably became to some extent -a caste system, with a caste of freemen or citizens ruling over slaves, -each individual was born to a certain status as a member of a particular -family. His position and duties and rights in the family were rigidly -prescribed by custom, and the law took account only of the relations of -the family to the State. - - - - -CHAPTER XX - -THE PROGRESS OF NATIONS IN THEIR MATURITY - - -In the foregoing chapter we have noted the great fact that the leading -modern nations of Western Europe have shown a much greater capacity for -progress than all the earlier civilised peoples, not excepting those of -ancient Greece and Rome. I urged that this difference between the -ancient and the modern European civilisations seemed to be chiefly due -to a difference of social organisation. I pointed out how the older -nations were essentially caste nations, resting on a basis of slavery, -and how all individual rights were entirely subordinated to the welfare -of the State, a politico-religious organisation held together by the -bond of kinship; how, within that organisation, the rights of each -person were strictly defined throughout his life by the status to which -he was born; and how all persons outside this organisation were regarded -as natural enemies, towards whom no obligations of any kind were felt. -We have now to notice that the form of social organisation towards which -all the leading modern nations have been tending, and which some of them -have now pretty well achieved, is one in which the last vestiges of the -caste system and the rigid bonds of customary status are rapidly being -abolished. In this new organisation social classes persist, but they are -no longer castes; all members of the nation are regarded as being by -nature free and equal; a career is open to every talent, and any man may -rise to any position by the exertion of his abilities. His position is -one of extreme liberty as compared with that of any member of the -ancient nations. He has definite rights as against the State. The State -claims only a minimum of rights over him, the right to prevent him -interfering with the rights of his fellow-citizens, the right to make -him pay for his share of the privileges conveyed by its activities. And -these rights it claims in virtue of contract between each citizen and -all the rest. For each citizen is free to throw off his allegiance to -the State and to leave it at will, and his continuance as a citizen of -the State implies his acceptance of the contract. - -Even in religion, personal liberty has at last been achieved; religion -is no longer a State-religion, the gods are no longer the national gods, -and each man may accept any religion or none. This is the most striking -instance of the immense distance, as regards the liberty of the -individual, that divides the modern from the ancient nations. For with -the latter, the function of religion was to preserve the security of the -State; and to question it in any way was to threaten the State, a -principle fully acted upon by Athens in the time of her highest -enlightenment and glory. - -The change is very striking also as regards the attitude of the citizens -of one State towards those of any other and towards even the members of -savage and barbarous communities. We no longer regard ourselves as -devoid of all obligation towards such persons. Rather we tend to treat -them as having equal rights with ourselves, the few specifically -national rights excepted, and as having equal claims with our fellow -citizens upon our considerate feeling and conduct towards them. - -The relations of individuals are, then, tending to be regulated, on the -one hand, by contractual justice; on the other hand, by the moral -obligation felt by each individual, an obligation not enforced by any -exercise of the power of the State, but supported only by public -opinion. The end we set before ourselves is no longer the welfare of the -State, to be attained at any cost to individual liberty; it is rather an -ideal of justice for every person, to which the welfare of the State -must be, if necessary, subordinated. In short, instead of maintaining -universal intolerance, we have made great strides towards universal -tolerance. - -All this represents a profound change of social organisation, a great -advance in social evolution. That it is intimately bound up with the -progressiveness of a people is shown by the fact that the degree to -which the change has proceeded among the various nations runs parallel -with their progress in all the essentials of civilisation. The change -seems, indeed, to be one of the principal conditions of the progress of -the nations of Western Europe and, we may add, of the American nation, -by which it has been carried further than by any other. How, then, does -it make for progress? We may answer this question by considering how the -social system which has given place to this new kind of social -organisation--namely, the caste system--renders progress difficult or -impossible. - -Where the caste system is highly developed and rigidly maintained, as -among the Hindus of India, its conservative unprogressive tendency is -obvious enough. Each man is born a member of some one of many castes, -and he can never hope to pass from one caste to another and higher -caste. That fact alone removes at once the two greatest spurs to effort, -the two most powerful motives that urge on the members of our modern -societies to the fullest development and exercise of all their -faculties; namely, the desire to rise in the social scale and to place -one's children at a more advantageous starting point in the battle of -life, and the fear of falling back in the social scale, of sinking to a -lower level, with the consequent sacrifice of all the social -consideration and other advantages which one's position at any given -social level brings with it. Under the Hindu caste system, the poor -Brahmin who has no possessions, perhaps not even a rag to cover his -nakedness, is sure of the social consideration which his birth gives -him, both for himself and his children. He can look disdainfully upon -the rich man and the prince of lower caste; and public opinion approves -and supports him. This perhaps is the most important way in which the -caste system prevents progress. But there are others almost equally -serious. - -The occupations open to the members of each caste are rigidly limited. -The members of one caste must be priests only, of another soldiers only, -of another scavengers, of another potters, and so on. Now, if it were -true that, when dexterities or mental powers generally are specially -developed by use, the improvements of faculty resulting from this long -practice and use were transmitted in any degree from generation to -generation, we should expect the caste system to result, after many -generations, in so many distinct breeds of men of highly specialised and -perfected powers of the kinds used in the pursuit of each of the caste -occupations. And this might make for progress. Each man would be -employed in the occupation for which he was best suited. But, as we have -seen, it is probable that use-inheritance does not occur; and there -seems to be no evidence that differentiation and hereditary -specialisation of faculties of this sort result from the caste -system[147]. In each caste men continue to be born of the most diverse -powers suited for the most diverse occupations; and one effect of the -caste system is that the best powers of any man will in the great -majority of cases be prevented from finding their most effective outlet. -That involves a great waste of faculty, which makes strongly for -stagnation. We shall realize the importance of this influence, if we -reflect on the great achievements, in the most diverse fields, of men -who under our modern system have risen from some humble station and -occupation, to which under the caste system they would have been rigidly -confined. - -Again, within each caste custom rules the lives of the members with much -greater force than it can exert in a large and complex society in the -absence of the caste system. For each caste has its own tradition and -customary code, which is necessarily narrow because of the uniformity of -the conditions of life of those who obey it; hence tradition and custom -have a narrow and well-defined field of operation; and the narrower the -field of its application, the more rigidly will custom control action. - -The caste system is thus one which permits of great differentiation and -specialisation of pursuits, without any weakening of the conservative -forces of society. It is for that reason presumably that the social -organisation of all early civilisations tended to this form. It was the -most easily attained form which combined diversity with stability -sufficiently to permit of the formation of a large society or nation; -and it was one which made for military efficiency. It formed, therefore, -a natural stage of social evolution. - -In so far as the caste system still survives, it owes its survival to -the continuance of the need of the State for military efficiency. And we -see how its maintenance is still only rendered possible by its alliance -with a State religion and its system of religious sanctions. In Russia, -for example, the caste system was thus maintained by the alliance of the -military power with the religious system. While we see how in modern -Germany the attempt to maintain the caste system and the supremacy of -the State over the rights and liberties of individuals is breaking down, -as the religious sanctions are losing their hold upon the people. Social -democracy, secularism, and the demand for liberty go hand in hand[148]. - -It is clear, then, that the caste system tends to produce a stable -society and to prevent progress; and that, in proportion as it gives way -to liberty and equality of all men, both legal and customary, and to the -recognition of the rights of individuals as against the State, progress -must be favoured. - -In yet another way (perhaps more important than any other) the abolition -of caste may favour development. In an earlier chapter I pointed out how -every step in the development of the intellectual or the moral tradition -of a people is initiated by some person of exceptional intellectual or -moral power. I pointed out also how the existence of a hierarchy of -social classes which are not exclusive castes, together with the -operation of the social ladder by means of which individuals and -families are enabled to climb up and down the social scale, tend to the -segregation of ability in the classes of the upper part of the scale. -They tend, in short, to produce classes capable of producing in each -generation a relatively large number of persons of more than average -capacities. Or, in other words, they lead to the concentration and -mutual enrichment of the strains of exceptional capacity; they -concentrate the best capacities of the people in a relatively small -number of individuals of the favoured classes. And abilities so -concentrated and raised in a certain proportion of individuals to a -higher power will be more favourable in every way to the growth of the -national mind than the same sum of abilities more evenly diffused -throughout the population. At present it is impossible to say how far -this segregation of abilities has gone, and what part it has played in -forwarding the mental development of any nation. But that it has played -some part, perhaps a very important one in some instances, can hardly be -doubted[149]. - -In Europe the feudal system served to tide over the period of transition -from the ancient social organisation founded on caste and the supremacy -of the politico-religious State to the modern system, the transition -from the system founded on status and regulated by custom to the system -founded upon equality and liberty and regulated by contract. For the -feudal system, although still more or less a caste system, was -nevertheless founded to some extent on contract. The tenure of land -involved a contract to perform services in return; and such contract was -the essence of the feudal system. - -But it was not until the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, when the -feudal system was finally broken up and the Reformation initiated the -age of religious tolerance, that the modern system substantially -replaced the ancient system, and the age of rapid progress set in. - -In proportion as the change was achieved, the powers of all men were set -free in an unfettered competition such as had never before been -possible. Independence of thought and action, free discussion of all -principles, and the recognition of the relativity of all truths, -succeeded to unquestioning subservience to ancient formulas and -customs. Each man became comparatively free to follow his natural bent, -to develop his best powers to the utmost, and to secure by the exercise -of those powers the maximum of social consideration and of well-being, -unfettered by arbitrary restrictions, civil or ecclesiastical. I think -we may fairly say that the modern pragmatic or humanistic movement in -philosophy, in the midst of which we are living, represents the final -stage of this emancipation of man from the bonds which he has created -for himself. - -We have seen, then, that the modern system of social organisation does -not make for the racial progress of a whole people, but probably, up to -the present time, for race-deterioration; nevertheless, it certainly -makes for progress of the intellectual and moral traditions of peoples; -and we can now see in what way it makes for progress. The improvement of -racial qualities by natural selection of the innately superior -individuals has been brought to an end; the mortal conflict of societies -has also practically been abolished as a factor of race progress, as -also of collective or social progress. These have been replaced by a new -form of struggle for existence and of selection--namely, the rivalry and -competition of ideas and of the institutions in which ideas become -embodied, and the selection for survival of those ideas and institutions -which are found, under the tests of practice and experience, most -accordant with the truth and, therefore, best adapted to promote the -welfare of societies and of their members[150]. - -And this process of survival of the fittest and elimination of the unfit -among ideas and institutions takes place not only within nations, but -has also international scope. The members of each nation no longer, as -of old, regard all foreigners as their natural enemies, no longer -despise their institutions and reject their ideas with scorn. They are -ready to learn from others, to let the ideas current among other peoples -enter into competition with native-born ideas; and so the number and -variety of competing elements increases and the intensity of the -competition waxes ever keener. Every idea that constitutes an important -advance in our intellectual outlook or in our practical command over -nature rapidly finds acceptance throughout the civilised world and -displaces some less true idea, some less appropriate institution, some -less effective mode of action. - -Two great conditions, making for continued improvement of the moral and -intellectual traditions, characterise, then, Western civilisation. -First, within each nation there is going on the process of emancipation -of all human faculties, so that they enter into the freest possible -competition with one another on a footing of equality; this process, -although now far advanced in all the leading nations, is still being -carried further, and the whole trend of modern legislation is to confirm -the change and hasten it to its completion[151]. Secondly, there is a -circle of peoples whose ideas are thrown into the arena of rivalry, to -suffer extinction or to gain universal acceptance. This circle also is -constantly widening by the inclusion of peoples hitherto outside it; and -each new admission, as of Japan in recent years, is a new stimulus to -the further evolution of the collective mind of each nation concerned. -Both these conditions depend upon improved social organisation. - -How then has this great change of social organisation been effected? To -put this question is to approach an immense subject, the history of -liberty and toleration. I can only make one or two brief remarks. It has -been suggested by many authors, notably by Kidd in his volume on -_Western Civilisation_, that we owe this great change to the Christian -religion. It is pointed out that the Christian religion, unlike most -earlier religions, was from the first not a national or State religion -but a universal religion, and that its adoption has weakened the tyranny -of the State by breaking up its alliance with religion. Further, it is a -religion which, by its doctrine of the immortality of the souls of all -men, has tended to give dignity and value to each individual life, quite -independently of personal status. Again, by its teaching of universal -charity, it has to some extent softened and moralised the relations of -men and of societies. But, that the replacement of a national religion -by a universal religion which teaches the equality of all believers does -not suffice to secure continued collective evolution is shown by the -instances of Bhuddism and Mohammedanism. Both of these are of this -character, yet both have failed to render continuously progressive the -societies that have accepted them. - -That the spread of the Christian religion does not in itself suffice to -account for the evolution from the ancient to the modern type of social -organisation is shown also by the fact that it had held undisputed sway -among the peoples of Western Europe for more than a thousand years -before social evolution made any considerable advance. Throughout that -period, religion constantly called in the civil and military power of -the State to enforce the acceptance of its dogmas. And that its -teachings did not suffice to produce religious or civil tolerance is -shown by the fierce and incessant persecutions of heretics and the many -religious wars that fill the history of medieval Europe. - -The religious tolerance and liberty of the modern era are rather -features of a wider phenomenon, the general increase of tolerance and -liberty, and they must be ascribed to the same causes as this wider -fact. They imply a great evolution of the moral tradition, the most -important and striking feature of which is the expansion of the sphere -in which the sympathetic feelings find application. There is no reason -to suppose that the feelings and emotions underlying the sympathetic and -considerate treatment of others have changed in character in the -historic period. For long ages men have felt such sympathy and given -considerate and just treatment to those who have been nearest to them; -at first to the members of their own immediate family; later to the -fellow-members of their own small society; and then, as societies -expanded into complex caste societies, to the members of their own -caste; later, as castes were broken down, to all their fellow citizens; -and still later in some degree to all men. - -It is this progressive extension of the sphere of imaginative sympathy -which, more than anything else, has broken down all the social barriers -that confined the energies of men and has set free their various -faculties in that competition of ever increasing severity which is the -principal cause underlying the modern progress of peoples. It is this -which has destroyed nearly all the old bonds that fettered and limited -men's activities in religion, in science, in politics, in art, in -commerce, in manufacture, and has brought men in all these spheres into -that intense, because free and equal, competition, which produces an -ever accelerating progress. It is this which has produced the almost -universal acceptance of the entirely and most characteristically modern -principle of 'one man one vote,' a principle so hard to justify on any -ground of expediency, from any considerations of the stability and -welfare of the State. It is this also which has led to so greatly -increased intercourse between peoples. - -It is sometimes contended that the realisation of the principles of -equality and justice for all men has been secured only by the strife of -the social classes, by the success of the lower classes in forcing a -series of concessions from the ruling classes. This is a very imperfect -and partial view of the process. If the ruling classes had consistently -sought to maintain their power and exclusive privileges, and to maintain -all the rest of society in a state of servitude or serfdom, there is -little doubt that they could have done so. But their position has been -weakened from within by the extension of their sympathies. Consider the -great series of legislative changes which, during the nineteenth -century, transformed the social organisation of this country, especially -the factory laws, the franchise extension laws, and the laws for the -abolition of slavery. These were for the most part of the nature of a -voluntary abdication of power on the part of the classes in possession. -Consider the topics which chiefly engross the attention of our -legislators and are the centre of political and social discussion. They -are the providing of a better and freer education for the children of -the working classes, who of themselves would probably never have thought -of such a thing; the providing of free meals for school children; the -providing of work and food for the unemployed; temperance laws, land -settlement, and emigration, the eight-hours day, housing of the working -classes, free trade and cheap food, old age pensions; all measures for -raising the standard of life of the labouring classes and securing them -against the tyranny of capital. - -In respect of our relations to the lower peoples the same proposition -holds good. It would be easy for the European nations to exterminate the -black people of Africa, and to possess themselves of all their -lands[152]. But public opinion will not now allow this; it insists upon -our moral obligation towards such peoples, that we are bound to try to -help them to survive and to raise themselves to our level of culture. - -The extension of the sphere of application of imaginative sympathy has -then been a factor of prime importance in producing the social evolution -which underlies modern progress. - -The factors that have brought about this extension have been many and -complex, and it is perhaps a hopeless task to attempt to enumerate them -and to apportion to each its share of influence. Undoubtedly, it has -been produced largely by the influence of a relatively small number of -enlightened leaders of opinion, such men as Wilberforce, Stuart Mill, -Shaftesbury, John Locke, Rousseau, and Voltaire--men whose original -intellectual powers enabled them to criticise and reject the settled -principles of their time. It was a work of liberation from custom and -traditional prejudice effected by the spirit of inquiry, which -questioned the validity of the old narrow conceptions of the relations -of men and peoples, the old narrow prejudices of caste and nation, and -discovered their fallacies to the world; discovered, for example, that -men of a religious persuasion slightly different from one's own are not -necessarily wicked, nor those of a different nationality necessarily -despicable and possessed of no ideas worthy of admiration and adoption. - -But the ground was prepared for the reception of the teachings of such -men by the conflicts of men who desired nothing of tolerance and -equality and liberty. This is best illustrated by the history of -religious toleration. As I said before, religion is essentially -conservative and intolerant of heresies. The first effect on religion of -that revival and liberation of the spirit of inquiry which we call the -Renascence, was to produce not religious toleration, but rather a bitter -conflict of mutually intolerant sects. And religious toleration was -eventually achieved largely by the realisation of the necessity of -compromise among these warring and constantly multiplying sects; it was -found impossible to weed out heresy by persecution. Yet who can doubt -that the Church, if it believed that it saw its way to secure the -universal acceptance of its doctrines by means of persecution, would -long hesitate to return to its ancient practices? The coming of -religious toleration was due to the application of the spirit of inquiry -to religious systems; these inquiries produced irreconcilable sects, -whose strife prepared the way for compromise and toleration. - -The strife of parties and sects was itself part of a still wider -process; and this process must be recognised as the most important -single condition of that widening of the sphere of imaginative sympathy -which has been the root cause of the improvement of social organisation, -of the general increase of liberty, and thus of the progress of the -modern nations. This wider process is the general increase of human -intercourse, both within nations and between them. Only so long as men -know little of one another, can they continue to regard one another with -entire hostility or cold indifference. The knowledge and understanding -brought by personal intercourse is necessary to sympathy; but as soon -as, and in proportion as, such knowledge is acquired, the innate social -tendencies common to all men are brought into play. As soon as man -understands that his fellow man suffers the same pains and joys as -himself, longs for the same goods, fears the same evils, throbs with the -same emotions and desires, then he shares with him in some degree these -feelings, in virtue of that fundamental law of all social beings, the -law of primitive sympathy; then also pity and sympathetic sorrow and -tender regard are awakened in his breast; then his fellow man is no -longer the object of his cold or hostile glances, as a certain rival and -probable enemy, but is seen to be a fellow toiler and sufferer whom he -is willing to succour, a fellow creature whose joys and sorrows alike he -cannot but share in some degree. - -Increasing freedom of intercourse throughout the civilised world, and -beyond its boundaries also, has been the most characteristic feature of -the age of progress, and in it we may recognise the most fundamental -condition of that progress. Science and mechanical invention have been -the means by which this greater freedom of intercourse has been brought -about. First and most important perhaps was the invention of printing, -the consequent spread of the habit of reading, and the wide diffusion of -the written word. Second only to this was the improvement of the art of -navigation, which brought the remotest peoples of the world within the -ken of Europe and greatly promoted the intercourse of the European -peoples, as well as the circulation of persons and news within each -nation; for the development of commerce over seas implies a -corresponding development of commerce within the national boundaries. -Then came the use of steam in locomotion on sea and land, the press and -the telegraph; and, with the advent of these, intercourse within and -without became really free and abundant; mutual knowledge and -understanding between men and nations grew rapidly, and the age of -progress was assured. - -The progressive character of the modern nations has been due, then, to -the actions and reactions between the spirit of inquiry and the -improvement of forms of social organisation; each step in the one -respect has reacted upon the other, stimulating further change in the -same direction. And the medium through which they have chiefly thus -worked upon one another has been the increase of intercourse between men -and nations. The spirit of inquiry has urged men on to explore their -fellow men and to study foreign nations, and it has provided the means -for so doing; the greater mutual knowledge and sympathy thus brought -into being have in turn brought greater liberty to the spirit of -inquiry, freeing it from the rigid bonds of custom and conservative -tradition and enabling it to render human intercourse yet more free and -abundant. - -In this way we reconcile and synthesize the rival theories of the causes -of progress, the view that sees in the spirit of inquiry the sole agent -of progress and that which attributes it wholly to the improvement of -morals and of social organisation. The great commandment, "Thou shalt -love thy neighbour as thyself," pointed the way of all progress; but -great and beautiful as it was, it could not immediately avail to break -the bonds of the human spirit, the bonds of ignorance and fear; only -gradually through increase of knowledge could man learn that all men are -his neighbours, and that not only the foreigner just beyond the -frontier, but also the naked savage, chipping his stone axe or weaving -his rude basket for the reception of his neighbour's head, is a man of -like passions with himself, with equal claims upon justice and freedom -and all that makes the humanity of man. - -It only remains to point out the part in human life of a new factor of -progress which promises to eclipse all others in importance. The main -theme of my earlier work[153] was that only through increase of -knowledge of others is each man's knowledge of himself slowly built up -and enriched, until it renders him capable of enlightened -self-direction. So the main theme of this book is the development of the -group mind, the increase of its self-knowledge and of its power of -self-direction through increase of knowledge of other human societies. - -The age of progress through which the world has recently passed was an -age of progress due to increase of human intercourse and consequent -increasing understanding by each nation of other nations and peoples. -This better knowledge of other peoples is now reacting upon the -self-knowledge of each nation, rapidly enriching it. Each of the great -nations is beginning to understand itself, and to take thought for the -morrow in the light of this self-knowledge; and this increase of -national self-knowledge, this enrichment of national self-consciousness, -is the great new factor which alone can secure the further progress of -mankind. We saw in an earlier chapter that a nation is essentially the -realization of an idea, the idea of a nation, that only in so far as the -idea of the nation exists and operates in the minds of the members of -the nation, controlling their conduct and directing it to actions having -reference to the nation as a whole, does a nation come into and continue -in existence. The self-consciousness of nations is therefore not a new -factor in their life. But their self-consciousness is now becoming -reflective and immensely richer in content; so much so that it promises -to operate virtually as a new factor of tremendous efficiency. - -We may illustrate the influence of this new factor by reverting again to -the analogy between the mind of the individual and the mind of the -nation which we developed at some length in an earlier chapter. In the -developing individual, as in the evolving animal series, the development -of self-consciousness is the condition of the development of true -volition. Before self-consciousness and a self-regarding sentiment are -developed, conduct is determined by feelings and impulses or by ideas -and the desires they arouse, either some one desire rising alone to -consciousness and issuing at once in action, or through a conflict of -impulses and desires, some one of which eventually predominates over the -others and determines action; but action issuing from such a conflict of -impulses and desires is not true volition. Action is truly volitional -only when the ideal of the self in relation to the idea of the end to be -achieved by each of the conflicting tendencies determines the issue of -the conflict. - -In the mental life of nations, all those conflicts of ideas, of parties, -of principles and of systems, in which each strives to predominate over -and displace others, and by natural selection of which (the death of the -many less fit, the survival of the few better or more fit) the progress -of recent centuries has been chiefly due; all these conflicts have been -more or less blind conflicts, in which the idea of the whole nation, in -relation to the end to be achieved by each of the conflicting -tendencies, has generally played but a small part and a part that often -has not made strongly for progress. National actions were in the main -impulsive and instinctive actions, like those of young children or the -higher animals. And for this reason--that nations had too little true -self-knowledge, and had not developed a true and rich ideal of national -life--the self-consciousness of nations was too poor in content to serve -as the guide of actions making for progress. - -In the individual man, it is the growing richness and accuracy of -self-knowledge which alone enables him to direct his actions effectively -to secure his own welfare and to improve his character and powers. Just -so in nations the rapid growth of their self-knowledge and the -enrichment of their ideals of national life which characterise the -present time must render their self-consciousness a far more efficient -guide of all national deliberation and action. - -The self-knowledge of the individual grows chiefly, as we have seen, -through intercourse with his fellows; his idea of himself develops in -fulness and accuracy in the light of his knowledge of other selves, and -this knowledge in turn develops in the light of his increasing knowledge -of himself. Just so the self-knowledge of nations is now growing rapidly -through the intercourse of each nation with others, an intercourse far -freer, more multiplex, than ever before in the history of the world; a -result largely of the improved means of communication which we owe to -science and the spirit of inquiry. - -Perhaps the most striking illustration of the operation of this new -factor is the rapid spread in recent years of parliamentary -institutions. The parliamentary system of national organisation was -worked out in these islands by long centuries of more or less blind -conflict of ideas and parties and institutions; and now other nations in -rapid succession have observed and admired the system and have -deliberately and self-consciously adopted it; and still the process goes -on, as recently in Russia. - -Japan offers a striking illustration of the way in which the new factor -operates. An intelligent people in which the national sentiment was -strong, but in which national self-knowledge was rudimentary because of -the isolation of the nation, was suddenly brought into contact with -other peoples; through observation of them, it learnt its own -deficiencies and set about deliberately to remedy them in the light of -its new knowledge; and in doing so has reorganised itself from top to -bottom. - -In England also national self-knowledge is beginning rapidly to increase -in accuracy and extent. We have begun to compare ourselves at all points -with other nations, and are no longer content with the good old creed, -that everything British is best. We are learning in this way our -weaknesses; and the knowledge is becoming a main cause of accelerated -progress. The best illustration is, perhaps, the present stir over -educational questions, which is directly due to the increase of national -self-knowledge resulting from the observation of other nations. - -But in the future our national self-consciousness will be enriched and -fitted for the guidance of the national will in a still more effective -manner than by the knowledge of our weaknesses being forced upon us by -the nations who are our rivals in the world. In many directions--by the -historians, the biologists, the anthropologists, the statisticians--data -are being gathered for a science of society whose sure indications will -enable us deliberately to guide the further evolution of the nation -towards the highest ideal of a nation that we can conceive. In this way, -it may be hoped, the modern nations will be able to avoid that danger -which has destroyed the great nations of the past, and which has been -the dark cloud shadowing the brilliance of the age of progress that -resulted from increasing human intercourse and mutual understanding. In -this way the free play of the spirit of inquiry, which in all earlier -ages has been highly dangerous to the stability of nations and which, -while it was the sole cause of progress, nevertheless destroyed many of -the nations whom it impelled upon that path, will make for a greatly -accelerated progress; and, at the same time, it will enable us to -secure, by deliberate voluntary control, the bases of society, which in -all previous ages have rested solely upon custom, instinct, and the -religious sanctions. - -Not by any voluntary surrender of the reason, not by any subjugation of -the intellect to the dominion of obscure transcendental ideas, such as -is preached by Benjamin Kidd, Chatterton-Hill[154] and others who have -realized the disintegrating effects of intellect on earlier societies, -but by a more strenuous use of our intellectual faculties, and by a -growth of knowledge, especially a knowledge of the laws of human -societies, will the stability and further evolution of nations be -maintained. - -The nations whose progress will rest upon this basis will be in a -position very different from that of the older societies to which the -emancipation of the intellect was fatal. They fell for lack of knowledge -of natural laws, as soon as the progress of intellectual inquiry had -weakened their instinctive and customary bases. The modern nations may -reasonably hope that they are within sight of knowledge which will -enable them to avoid these dangers and to continue their progress during -an indefinitely long period. They may even hope to progress, not only in -respect of the intellectual and moral tradition, but also in respect of -racial qualities; for a better knowledge of the factors at work and of -the laws of heredity will enable them to put an end to the influences -now making for race deterioration and to replace them by others of the -opposite tendency. - -Such national progress will be truly teleological; it will be a progress -whose direction will be determined by the desire of an ideal end present -to the consciousness of all and striven after by the collective -deliberation and volition of the nation. - -Thus the group spirit, rising above the level of a narrow patriotism -that regards with hostility all its rivals, recognising that only -through the further development of the collective life of nations can -man rise to higher levels than he has yet known, becomes the supreme -agent of human progress. - - -FOOTNOTES: - - [1] _History of European Thought in the 19th Century._ - - [2] _Political Thought in England from Bacon to Halifax_, Home - University Library, p. 49. - - [3] Essay on "The Nature of Democracy" in _Popular - Government_, London 1885. - - [4] _Psychology, the Study of Behaviour_, Home University - Library, London, 1912. - - [5] _Community_, by R. M. Maciver, London, 1917. - - [6] _In Body and Mind_, London, 1911. - - [7] _Op. cit._ p. 76. - - [8] _Op. cit._ p. 77. - - [9] _Op. cit._ p. 90. - - [10] E. Barker, _Political Thought in England from Herbert - Spencer to the present day_, Home University Library, London, - 1915. - - [11] _Op. cit._ p. 11. - - [12] _Op. cit._ pp. 62-64. - - [13] _Op. cit._ p. 74. I consider Mr Barker's brief statement - of the nature of the group mind entirely acceptable, and it - has given me great pleasure to find myself in such close - harmony with it. It will perhaps give further weight to the - fact of our agreement, if I add that the whole of this book, - including the rest of this introductory chapter, was written - before I took up Mr Barker's brilliant little volume. - - [14] _Op. cit._ p. 175. - - [15] This principle of primitive sympathy or simple direct - induction or contagion of emotion was formulated in Chapter IV - of my _Social Psychology_. - - [16] It was my good fortune to witness the almost - instantaneous spread of anger through a crowd of five thousand - warlike savages in the heart of Borneo. Representatives of all - the tribes of a large district of Sarawak had been brought - together by the resident magistrate for the purpose of - strengthening friendly relations and cementing peace between - the various tribes. All went smoothly, and the chiefs - surrounded by their followers were gathered together in a - large hall, rudely constructed of timber, to make public - protestations of friendship. An air of peace and good-will - pervaded the assembly, until a small piece of wood fell from - the roof upon the head of one of the leading chiefs, making a - slight wound from which the blood trickled. Only the immediate - neighbours of this chief observed the accident or could - perceive its effect; nevertheless in the space of a few - seconds a wave of angry emotion swept over the whole assembly, - and a general and bloody fight would have at once commenced, - but that the Resident had insisted upon all weapons being left - in the boats on the river 200 yards away. The great majority - of the crowd rushed headlong to fetch their weapons from their - boats, while the few who remained on the ground danced in fury - or rushed to and fro gesticulating wildly. Happily the boats - were widely scattered along the banks of the river, so that it - was possible for the Resident, by means of persuasion, - threats, and a show of armed force, to prevent the hostile - parties coming together again with their weapons in hand. - - [17] _The Souls of Black Folk_, by W. E. B. Du Bois, London, - 1905. - - [18] _The Crowd_, p. 11. - - [19] In a recent work (_What is Instinct?_ by Bingham Newland) - the author, who shows an intimate knowledge of the life of - wild animals, seems to postulate some such direct telepathic - _rapport_ between animals of the same species. - - [20] See _The Dissociation of a Personality_, by Dr Morton - Prince; _Double Personality_, by A. Binet; _The Psychology of - Suggestion_, by Boris Sidis; _L'automatism psychologique_, by - Pierre Janet; and the descriptions and discussions of William - James in his _Principles of Psychology_. - - [21] _Philosophy of the Unconscious._ - - [22] _Die Psychophysik._ - - [23] _Psychologie des idees forces._ - - [24] _Les Societes animales_, Paris, 1877. - - [25] _Bau und Leben des Socialen Koerpers._ - - [26] _Medicinische Psychologie._ - - [27] I have argued that the great increase of knowledge of the - functions and structure of the nervous system attained by - recent research does but provide for the argument a surer - basis of empirical data; and I have contended that some at - least of the cases of disintegration of personality are more - easily reconcilable with this view, than with the contrary - doctrine which regards the individual consciousness as the - collective consciousness of the brain-cells. See my _Body and - Mind_, a book I found myself compelled to write in order to - arrive at a reasoned judgment on this difficult problem, which - obtrudes itself at the outset of the study of group life. - - [28] _Social Psychology_, Chapter IX. - - [29] See especially A. Stoll's _Suggestion und Hypnotismus in - der Voelkerpsychologie_, where the events of the French - revolution have been treated in some detail from this point of - view. - - [30] Hon. Maurice Baring in an article in the _Morning Post_ - of April 21, 1906. - - [31] _Social Psychology_, Chapter IX. - - [32] _Op. cit._ Chapter VII. - - [33] One great difference between the professional army, such - as that of England, and the citizen armies of Europe, consists - in the fact that the special sentiment for the army is - stronger in the former; the more general patriotic sentiment, - in the rank and file of the latter; though in the regular - officers of the continental army the sentiment for the army - itself is no doubt usually the stronger. - - [34] Cp. _The Pagan Tribes of Borneo_, by Ch. Hose and W. - McDougall, London, 1912. - - [35] _From Religion to Philosophy_, p. 77. - - [36] _Op. cit._ p. 82. - - [37] Cf. _The Pagan Tribes of Borneo_, by Ch. Hose and W. - McDougall, London, 1912. - - [38] Mr Cornford's book might in fact be entitled with greater - propriety _From Philosophy to Religion_. - - [39] 1 Oct. 1914. - - [40] _Les Fonctions mentales dans les Societes inferieures_, - Alcan, Paris, 1910. - - [41] At this point I would refer the reader to the discussion - of the self-regarding sentiment (Chapter VII) in my _Social - Psychology_. - - [42] For a brief history of the nation-state the reader may be - referred to Prof. Ramsay Muir's _Nationalism and - Internationalism_, London, 1917. He rightly describes - 'nationalism' as one of the most powerful factors in modern - history. It is, I think, obviously true that we may go further - and say that it is _the_ most powerful factor in modern - history. - - [43] _Op. cit._ p. 38. - - [44] _Op. cit._ p. 54. - - [45] _Op. cit._ p. 51. - - [46] Chapter II. On the question of the definition of the - terms 'mind' and 'character' I would refer the reader to my - _Psychology, The Study of Behaviour_, Home University Library. - - [47] Prof. Hans Driesch's conception of 'super-individual - entelechy' seems to be of this order, arrived at by the same - line of reasoning. See _Science and Philosophy of the - Organism_, Gifford Lectures, 1907. - - [48] _Psychological Laws of the Evolution of Peoples._ - - [49] As examples of the best work as yet accomplished in this - immense and fascinating field, I would refer the reader to the - books of M. Alfred Fouillee one of the most clear-sighted, - judicious, and readable of modern philosophers, especially his - _Psychologie des peuples europeens_, his _Psychologie du - peuple francais_, and his _Science Sociale Contemporaine_. - - [50] _Psychologie du peuple francais_, p. 4. Paris 1903. - - [51] _Social Psychology_, p. 330. - - [52] _Les inegalites des races humaines._ - - [53] This fantastic doctrine has found its fullest expression - in Chamberlain's work _The Foundations of the Nineteenth - Century_. - - [54] Other prominent exponents of this view are Mr J. M. - Robertson in his book _The Germans_ and in his _Introduction - to English Politics_, and M. J. Finot in his _Race Prejudice_. - - [55] I here use this word in the large, loose and convenient - sense in which it is used by M. Tarde in his _Lois de - l'imitation_. I have examined the nature of imitative - processes more closely in my _Social Psychology_. - - [56] Meredith Townsend regards this as one of the leading - qualities of the peoples of India. See _Europe and Asia, - London, 1901_. - - [57] Cp. Ripley's _Races of Europe_ and Prof. H. J. Fleure's - _Human Geography in Western Europe_, London, 1919. - - [58] Cf. _The Black Republic_, by Sir Spencer St John and - _Where Black rules White_, by H. Hesketh Prichard. - - [59] M. le Bon and more than one Indian civil servant in - conversation. - - [60] By G. Lowes Dickinson, _Hibbert Journal_, Jan. 1911. - - [61] In the _Fortnightly Review_, Jan. 1910, and in his - _Social Environment and Moral Progress_, London, 1913. - - [62] _Physics and Politics._ - - [63] Cp. Ripley, _op. cit._ and Fleure, _op. cit._ - - [64] This was written in 1910, and now in 1919 the dissolution - which was so obviously impending is an accomplished fact. - - [65] The great myth of the racial unity and superiority of the - German people, which we have noticed above, has been - cultivated and propagated, with elaborate disregard for fact - by the German State and its henchmen in the universities and - elsewhere, in a deliberate effort to remedy by art the lack of - natural boundaries and of true national homogeneity. - - [66] In his _Works of Man_ Mr March Philips shews clearly the - influence of the Egyptian landscape upon the arts of sculpture - and architecture. - - [67] Cf. Sir S. Dill's _The Roman Empire from Nero to - Augustus_, London, 1905. - - [68] Since these lines were written a new mode of rapid - locomotion, namely the aerial, which has resulted from the - invention and rapid development of the internal combustion - engine, threatens to eclipse all others in its effects upon - the organisation of the world. - - [69] This state of affairs has no doubt been considerably - altered during the great war; the political education of - Germany, a painful but salutary process, is progressing - rapidly. - - [70] Cf. N. Angell, _The Great Illusion_. - - [71] Incipient nations have appeared where the Bantu stock has - produced occasionally great warrior chiefs such as Chaka and - Cetewayo. - - [72] _Psychological Laws of the Evolution of Peoples._ - - [73] I do not propose to examine in this book the much - discussed question--Are the leaders of a nation to be regarded - as produced by the nation according to the general laws of - biology and psychology, or as given to them by some - supernatural process? This question belongs to a branch of - Social Psychology which is not included in the volume. - - [74] _Psychologie du peuple francais_, p. 13. - - [75] Ramsay Muir, _op. cit._ and J. Holland Rose, _The - Development of the European Nations_. London, 1905. - - [76] J. Holland Rose, _op. cit._ - - [77] I suggest that international emulation in this sphere may - prove to be an effective, probably the only effective, - substitute for war. - - [78] _Bau und Leben des socialen Koerpers._ - - [79] _Decadence._ - - [80] Cf. A. Smith's _Village Life in China_. The author - insists on the lack of public spirit, of the idea of action - _pro bono publico_. - - [81] 1906. - - [82] In his _Theory of the State_. - - [83] By Schaffle, _op. cit._, and all the school of German - 'idealism'. - - [84] The substance of this chapter was contained in a paper - entitled 'The Will of the People,' read before the - Sociological Society and published in the _Sociological - Review_, 1912. - - [85] _Philosophical Theory of the State_ and Article in - _International Journal of Ethics_, 1907. - - [86] Cf. H. Rose, _The Development of the European Nations_ - and Ramsay Muir, _Nationalism and Internationalism_. - - [87] _The Russo-Japanese War_, Vol. II, p. 25. - - [88] _La Science Sociale contemporaine_, p. 115. - - [89] _Social Psychology_, Chapters V-IX. Dr Bosanquet's - failure (as it seems to me) to achieve a satisfactory account - of the social will is the inevitable consequence of the - inadequacy of his conception of individual volition. This is - set out in his _Psychology of the Moral Self_, where he shews - himself to be an uncompromising adherent of the - intellectualist tradition. He totally ignores the existence - and organisation of the conative side of the mind. His notion - of volition is based upon the now discredited theory of - ideo-motor action. - - [90] This was written before the war with Germany. - - [91] Emulation in the administration of backward peoples - offers perhaps the greatest possibilities as 'a moral - equivalent for war.' - - [92] Cp. Principal L. P. Jacks on the Japanese in his _Alchemy - of Thought_. - - [93] W. L. George, _English Review_, May, 1915, "The Price of - Nationality." "Anger, indeed, is the soul of what is called - the national will. To call it a will is perhaps too much, it - is an instinct and mainly an instinct to hate.... Love of - country is mainly hatred of other countries." - - [94] Cf. Gilbert Murray, _Collection of Addresses on The War - given at Bedford College_, 1915. - - [95] Incidentally he holds up my _Social Psychology_ as a - dreadful example of such an attempt and a woeful evidence of - the parlous state of present-day culture in England. Such - dislike of any attempt to understand that which we hold sacred - is intelligible enough in the vulgar, for whom all analysis is - destructive of the values they unreasoningly cherish. But it - may be hoped that men of letters who set out to defend - patriotism will learn to rise above this attitude, just as the - more enlightened leaders of religion are learning to welcome - psychological inquiry in their domain. - - [96] In these respects the Church alone can enter into serious - rivalry as an object of loyalty. - - [97] As Dean Inge has remarked--"If they love not those whom - they have seen, how shall they love those whom they have not - seen?" - - [98] Cp. Fielding Hall, _The Soul of a People_. - - [99] This, as President Lowell clearly shows in his _Public - Opinion and Popular Government_, is carried to an extreme in - America and lies at the root of many administrative evils. - - [100] President Lowell (_op. cit._) has clearly shown other - benefits resulting from the party system; he shows especially - how the party is needed to prepare a program and select - candidates, if the popular vote is to give expression to the - dominant opinion of the people. - - [101] Cp. his _Civilisation and Progress_. - - [102] On the nature and development of the moral sentiments in - the individual mind, see my _Social Psychology_, Chapter VIII. - - [103] _Op. cit._ p. 210. - - [104] In this connexion I would refer the reader to _The New - State_ by M. P. Follett (London, 1918), an interesting book in - which the true nature and function of collective deliberation - is forcibly expounded. - - [105] Cf. W. R. Patterson, _The Nemesis of Nations_, London, - 1906. - - [106] _Social Evolution_, _Principle of Western Civilisation_, - and _The Science of Power_. - - [107] _Essai d'une Psychologie politique du Peuple Anglais_, - Paris, 1903. - - [108] _Op. cit._ p. 20. - - [109] _History of Civilisation_, p. 137. - - [110] In this connexion it must be remembered that in Hindu - society the man of proved and acknowledged holiness is - permitted and encouraged to procreate a large number of - children. - - [111] _Europe and Asia._ - - [112] _Op. cit._ - - [113] Guizot asserted that, even when new ideas and - institutions have originated elsewhere, it has usually been - only by their adoption in France that they have been spread - through Europe (_A History of Civilization in Europe_). - - [114] I cite these passages after M. Boutmy, _op. cit._ p. - 168. - - [115] The most frank, perhaps somewhat exaggerated, expression - of the difference is _The Superiority of the Anglo-Saxon_, by - Ed. Demolins. - - [116] _History of Civilisation in England_, Vol. II, p. 114. - - [117] _Comment la route cree le type social_, Paris, Didot et - Cie. - - [118] _Histoire de la Formation particulariste_, Paris. - - [119] The reality of selective effect of migration is shown by - the stature of American immigrants; those from Scotland are - said to be two inches taller than the average Scotchman; and - De Lapouge shows (_Les Selections Sociales_, Paris, 1896, p. - 367) that a superiority of stature almost as marked, may be - inferred for the French and German immigrants of America from - the statistics of the armies of the Civil War. - - [120] A. Reibmayer (_Inzucht u. Vermischung beim Menschen_, - Leipzig, 1897) insists upon the importance of isolation and - consequent inbreeding for the formation of superior strains - and subraces. He points out that the geographical barriers of - Europe have favoured in this way the production of distinctive - national types. Like Stewart Chamberlain, Flinders Petrie, and - others, he regards the dark ages of Europe as a period of - chaos directly due to the overcoming of these geographical - barriers and the consequent prevalence of crossbreeding on a - large scale. - - [121] _White Capital and coloured Labour._ - - [122] Aristotle says "want of men was the ruin of Sparta." - Fathers of three sons were exempted from military service, and - of four sons from all State burdens. - - [123] Several writers have pointed out the importance of these - facts and at least one professional historian has insisted - strongly upon them, namely O. Seeck in his _Geschichte des - Untergangs der antiken Welt_, Berlin, 1910, vol. 1. - - [124] On this topic cp. Dr Archdall Reid's _The Present - Evolution of Man_ and his _Principles of Heredity_, in which - books the effects of selection by disease and by alcohol are - vividly set out. - - [125] _Op. cit._ - - [126] O. Ammon, _Gesellschaftsordnung und ihre natuerlichen - Grundlagen_, Jena, 1900. - - [127] De Lapouge, _Les Selections Sociales_; cf. also W. - Alexis, _Abhandlungen zur Theorie der Bevoelkerungs-und - Moralstatistik_, Jena, 1903, and W. Schallmayer's _Vererbung - und Auslese in ihrer soziologischen und politischen - Bedeutung_, Jena, 1910. - - [128] Ammon's Law. - - [129] Pointed out by Francis Galton and Fouillee. - - [130] On the other hand it tends (partly no doubt by - deliberate design) to spread itself by insisting upon the duty - of procreation. This effect is said to be very considerable in - French Canada and only to be partially counteracted by a very - high rate of infantile mortality. - - [131] _The Nineteenth Century_ for April, 1906. - - [132] In _National Life and Character_, a pessimistic though - intellectually stimulating book. - - [133] _Provident Societies_, by Sidney Webb, and _The London - Population_, by D. Heron. - - [134] It must be recognised also that in Great Britain - emigration has, during the last three centuries, tended in all - probability in the same direction as the various forms of - social selection--namely, to the deterioration of the home - population; for in all ages it is the bold and enterprising - persons who seek new homes in far countries, leaving the - weakly, the timid, the dull, and the defective behind in the - mother country. Even the convicts that we exported at one time - to our colonies were probably persons of more than average - capacity, though some of them may have been innately defective - in moral disposition. - - [135] _Etudes sur la selection chez l'homme._ Paris, 1904. - - [136] _England and the English._ - - [137] Notably by Prof. Flinders Petrie in his _Revolutions of - Civilisation_. - - [138] _Op. cit._ p. 407. - - [139] De Laponge does not stand alone in this opinion. Many - biologists and leaders of thought have expressed it hardly - less strongly, though not all of them have attached so much - importance to the influence of the towns. It has been - expressed in general terms by Dr and Mrs Whetham (in the - _Hibbert Journal_ for Oct. 1911), by Dean Inge in a number of - forcible articles, by Mr W. Bateson in his 'Herbert Spencer - Lecture' for 1912, and by other writers in a number of - articles in the _Eugenics Review_ and other journals. - - [140] This conclusion may perhaps be said to be now generally - accepted by those who have given any thought to the matter. A. - R. Wallace argued strongly in this sense; the late Benjamin - Kidd set out the evidence impressively in his _Social - Evolution_, Chapter IX; and it is implied by all the many - writers who, as we have noted, agree in regarding the - processes of selection in the civilised nations as in the main - reversed or detrimental. - - [141] I refer the reader to my _Social Psychology_. - - [142] In this connection I may again refer to _The Pagan - Tribes of Borneo_, by C. Hose and W. McDougall. - - [143] It has been translated into nine languages and was - reprinted ten times in the first year after its publication. - - [144] Shortly before his death Mr Kidd published (in the year - 1918) his _Science of Power_. In this book he showed a - complete change of face on the question of the importance of - innate qualities. He denied all importance to changes of - innate qualities, whether for better or worse, because, as he - maintained, "the social heredity transmitted through social - culture is infinitely more important to a people than any - heredity inborn in the individuals thereof" (p. 273); and he - made in this book a violent and scornful attack upon the late - Francis Galton and upon all who follow him in believing that - the decay or improvement of the racial qualities of a people - are of importance for its prosperity and development, and who, - therefore, approve of Galton's effort to found a science of - Eugenics. Kidd did not anywhere in his last book acknowledge - that he had made this very great change of principle, which - completely undermines the whole argument of his _Social - Evolution_, but complacently suggested that, as Newton and - Darwin are regarded as the fathers of modern physical and - biological science respectively, so in the future Kidd will be - regarded as having founded anew in his _Social Evolution_ the - science of society. On reading the _Science of Power_ after - having written this chapter, I was amazed at this assumption - on behalf of a book whose most fundamental doctrine the author - had himself renounced, and I turned again to the earlier work - to verify my brief summary of its argument. I confess that it - is not easy to make sure of what the author was driving at. - But I find that Kidd, in discussing the influence of religious - systems, wrote (on p. 307) "Natural selection seems, in short, - to be steadily evolving in the race that type of character - upon which these forces act most readily and efficiently; that - is to say, it is evolving religious character in the first - instance, and intellectual character only as a secondary - product in association with it." On the following page I - find--"The race would, in fact, appear to be growing more and - more religious," and "a preponderating element in the type of - character which the evolutionary forces at work in human - society are slowly developing, would appear to be the sense of - reverence." And there are many other passages which, in spite - of the habitual lack of precision of Kidd's language, can only - be interpreted to mean that the improvement of moral or - religious character, on which he so strongly insists as a - feature of recent centuries, involves and depends upon - improvement of innate qualities in the mass of the people. - - [145] Otto Seeck (_op. cit._ vol. 1. p. 270) writes--"The - equipment of the legionaries remained unchanged from Augustus - to Diocletian: no improvements of tactics, no new munitions of - war were brought into use during more than three hundred - years. The Roman saw his enemies becoming ever more terrible, - his own army ever less efficient; for now this, now that, - Province was laid waste and all were threatened. It was, - therefore, to the most urgent interest of every citizen that - this state of affairs should be remedied; the most cultured - circles were familiar with the needs of the army, for all the - higher officers came from the class of Senators and nobles. - Nevertheless, there appeared not a single invention, which - might have assured to the Roman soldiers their erstwhile - superiority! Books indeed were written upon tactics, strategy - and fortification, but their authors almost without exception - were content to expound in a formal manner what their more - capable forefathers had taught; in this literature the - expression of any new idea was carefully avoided.... As in the - military sphere, so also was it in all others. Neither in - agriculture, nor in handicrafts, nor in the practice of - statecraft, did a new idea of any importance appear since the - first century after Christ. Literature and art also moved only - in sterile imitation, which became always more - poverty-stricken and technically feebler." - - [146] Cf. _La Cite Antique_ of F. de Coulanges. - - [147] A fact which provides another argument against - use-inheritance. - - [148] This was written before the Great War but needs, I - think, no modification. - - [149] Francis Galton and his disciples have produced much - evidence to show that the educated class of Englishmen - includes a very much larger proportion of strains of high - ability than the rest of the people, it having been formed by - the long continued operation of the social ladder. There is no - reason to doubt the truth of this conclusion. - - [150] Prof. S. Alexander, in his _Moral Order and Progress_, - was perhaps the first to draw attention to this form of the - struggle for existence. - - [151] This last sentence perhaps is only partially true. A - rigid system of State Socialism would involve a retrogression - in this respect. - - [152] As the Spaniards well-nigh exterminated in the name of - the Church the civilisation and the nations of Mexico and - Peru. - - [153] _Introduction to Social Psychology_. - - [154] _Heredity and Selection in Sociology_, London, 1907; - an interesting work similar in tendency to Kidd's _Social - Evolution_. - - - - -INDEX - - - Abdication of classes, 295 - - Abstract psychology, 2 - - ADAM SMITH, 4 - - Aesthetic faculty, 157 - - Africa and lack of leaders, 136 - - American homogeneity, 124 - - AMMON, O., 252 - - Analogy of national with individual mind, 147 - - Ancestor worship, 183 - - Ancient States, 285 - - ANGELL, N., 133 - - Anglo-Saxon origins, 238 - - Animal societies, 33, 66 - - Arab nation and Mahomet, 136 - - ARISTOTLE, 3, 192, 248 - - Army, as organised group, 51; - organisation, 81 - - Asiatics and authority, 114 - - Athens depleted, 248 - - - BAGEHOT, W., 201 - - BALFOUR, A. J., on decadence, 146 - - BARING, M., on Russians, 46 - - BARKER, E., 16, 18 - - BATESON, W., 262 - - BEATTIE CROZIER, 193 - - Bengal, 161 - - BENTHAM, 4 - - BINET, 32 - - BINGHAM NEWLAND, 29 - - Birthrate, 253 - - Blending of races, 241, 278 - - Boer armies, 58 - - BOSANQUET, on general will, 155 - - BOUTMY, 215, 221, 228 - - Brains, size of, 137 - - BUCKLE, 206, 217, 227, 255, 282 - - Bulgaria and war, 143 - - BURKE, ED., 181 - - BUTLER, 5 - - - Caste, 183, 271, 288 - - Celts, 235 - - CHAMBERLAIN, H. S., 108, 244 - - Chinese stability, 141 - - Christianity and morals, 267; - and progress, 274 - - Church, as a group, 95 - - Civilisation, and natural selection, 261; - defined, 204 - - Clans, 159 - - _Claqueurs_, 29 - - Classification of groups, 89 - - Climate and race qualities, 214 - - Collective consciousness, 31 _et seq._, 71; - mind, 12; - psychology, 21; - will, 48, 53, 173 - - Communications, freedom of, 132 - - COMTE, 5 - - Concreteness in psychology, 2 - - Conflict and progress, 296 - - Conquest and progress, 276 - - Contact of cultures, 283 - - Contagion of emotion, 27 - - Continuity, national, 145 - - CORNFORD, 70 - - Crowd, anger in Borneo, 26; - emotions, 39; - intelligence, 40; - suggestibility, 40 - - Crowds, 22 _et seq._ - - - DARWIN, 5 - - DE LAPOUGE, 241, 252, 253, 261 - - Deliberative organisation, 187, 191 - - DEMOLINS, ED, 226, 233 - - DICKINSON, G. L., 119 - - Differentiation of races, 201, 208 - - DILL, Sir S., 132 - - Dissociation of personality, 32 - - DRIESCH, H., 103 - - DU BOIS, 27 - - DURKHEIM, on race, 109 - - - Edict of Nantes, 252 - - Egyptian culture and nature, 128 - - Energy and climate, 221; - of races, 272 - - England and Germany contrasted, 146 - - Ephemeral groups, 88 - - Equality, ideal of, 184 - - ESPINAS, 33 - - Eurasians, 83 - - European progress, 287; - races, 114 - - Evolution of man, 209 - - - Factors of national development, 206 - - Family as essential group, 82, 165; - consciousness, 159 - - Fear in India, 218 - - FECHNER, 32 - - Feudal system, 291 - - FLEURE, J. H., 115 - - FOUILLEE, 19, 101, 105, 139, 162, 255 - - French conquests, 184; - sociability, 223 - - Fusions of civilisation, 276; - by conquest, 277 - - - GALTON, F., 255, 291 - - Gauls, 231 - - General will, 53 - - Genetic view in psychology, 4 - - Genius and national life, 137 - - Geography and progress, 283 - - GEORGE, W. L., 178 - - German idealism, 15; - responsibility, 15; - organisation, 152 - - GIDDINGS, 5 - - GOBINEAU, 108 - - Gods, national, 102 - - GOOCH, 3 - - Good of whole and of all, 172 - - Greek people substituted, 247 - - GREEN, T. H., 15 - - Group action, types of, 57 - - Group mind, conditions of, 48; - defined, 9, 18 - - Group psychology, the task of, 7 - - Group spirit, 62 _et seq._, 302; - its merits, 79 - - GUIZOT, 223 - - - HAMILTON, Sir I., on Japanese, 162 - - HARTMANN, V., 33, 103 - - Hayti, 117 - - Hebrew nation, 159 - - HEGEL, 16 - - HERON, D., 258 - - Hierarchy of groups, 80; - of sentiments, 81 - - HILL, CHATTERTON, 301 - - Historians and psychology, 99 - - HOBBES, 3 - - HOLLAND ROSE, 143 - - Homogeneity of group, 23; - of nations, 121 - - HOSE, CH., 72 - - House of Commons, 189 - - - Idea of nation, 162, 173 - - Ideals, national, 183 - - Imaginative sympathy, 295 - - Impulse, national, 192 - - Independence, English, 224 - - India, and China contrasted, 124, 244; - and Western culture, 118 - - Individual, and group psychology, 6; - and social interests, 15, 152 - - Individualistic family, 237 - - Induction of emotion, 25 - - Infertility of peoples, 251 - - INGE, Dean, 262 - - Innate qualities, 110; - and culture, 112 - - Inquiry, spirit of, 275, 301 - - Intellect, disruptive effects of, 275 - - Intense emotion of crowds, 24, 29 - - Intercourse of peoples, 167 - - International rivalry, 144, 167 - - Irish qualities, 236 - - Isolation of China, 165 - - - JACKS, L. P., 167 - - JACOBI, 258 - - JAMES, WM., 32 - - JANET, P., 32 - - Japanese patriotism, 162 - - Jesuit system of education, 83 - - Justice, contractual, 288 - - - KIDD, B., 206, 267; - on GALTON, 268 - - KITCHENER, Lord, 64 - - - Leaders and national life, 135 - - Leadership in armies, 60 - - LE BON, 20, 28, 136 - - LE PLAY, school of, 231 - - LEVY BRUeHL, 74 - - Liberty, and progress, 287; - ideal of, 184 - - Limits of State, 188 - - LOCKE, 3 - - Locomotion, modes of, 132 - - LOTZE, 36 - - LOWELL, President, 187, 197 - - Lynching, 47 - - - MACIVER, R. M., 9 _et seq._ - - MAINE, Sir H., 5, 229, 270 - - MAITLAND, 18 - - MARIE, 20 - - MARX, K., 104 - - MATTEUZZI, 104 - - MERZ, TH., 2 - - MILL, J. S., on race, 108 - - Modern and primitive man, 120 - - Mongrel races, 140, 243, 279 - - MONTESQUIEU, 104 - - Moral tradition changing, 246 - - Morality, traditional, 264; - primitive, 264 - - MUIR, RAMSEY, 96 - - MUNSTERBERG, on Americans, 124 - - MURRAY, G., 178 - - My country, right or wrong, 174 - - - Nation, definition of, 97 _et seq._ - - National action, types of, 170; - genius, 139 - - Nationalism, 94, 164 - - Nationality a psychological problem, 143 - - Natural boundaries, 127 - - Negro race and leaders, 136 - - Negroes and American nation, 126 - - Neighbour, who is our? 298 - - Newspapers in national life, 133 - - Normans, 238 - - North Sea outrage, 192 - - Northmen, 238 - - - OLIVIER, Sir S., 244 - - Organic and higher unity, 157 - - Organisation, types of, 150; - from above, 153; - informal and formal, 197 - - Organism, contractual, 173 - - Outcastes, 85 - - - PAINE, 25 - - Paradox of group life, 20 - - Parliamentary traditions, 191 - - Patriarchal system, 234 - - Patriotism, 54, 164, 177; - disparaged, 181 - - PEARSON C. H., 257 - - PEARSON, KARL, 258 - - Pelasgians, 247 - - PETRIE, FLINDERS, 244, 260 - - Philippines, Americans in, 118 - - Philosophy of history, 105 - - Physical environment and race qualities, 202, 213 - - PLATO, 17, 83 - - Political philosophy, German, 152 - - Populations, increase of, 250 - - Practical interests and psychology, 3 - - Prestige, 64 - - PRICE, COLLIER, 260 - - PRICHARD, H. H., 117 - - Primitive Societies, 64; - sympathy, 25 - - PRINCE, MORTON, 10, 32 - - Progress, ideal of, 185; - of nations, 273 - - Protestanism, distribution of, 115 - - Public opinion, 192, 197 - - Punans of Borneo, 72 - - - Race qualities shape institutions, 116; - endurance of, 121; - crossing, 241 - - Racial differences, 111 - - REID, ARCHDALL, 252 - - Relations of sciences, 1 - - Religion and Reason, 259 - - Religious excitement, 27 - - RENAN, 4 - - Representative institutions, 198 - - Responsibility, communal, 68; - national, 144 - - RIPLEY, 115 - - Ritual, 92 - - Rivalry, national, 167 - - Roman Church and celibacy, 254; - civilization, 284 - - ROUSSEAU, 3, 53, 155 - - Russian armies, 59 - - - Satisfactions of group life, 78 - - Scandinavian conditions, 237 - - SCHAEFFLE, 35 - - SEECK, O., 250, 270 - - Selection by environment, 209; - by towns, 253; - reversed, 257; - sexual, 260; - group, 264, 272 - - Self-consciousness in crowds, 44; - of nations, 158, 160, 299 - - Sentiment, national, 164 - - SIDIS, 32 - - SIGHELE, 20 - - Social evolution, 211, 288; - organisation, 204, 211 - - _Social Psychology_, 1, 3 - - Sociology and psychology, 8 - - Solidarity of human race, 185 - - Spain depleted, 254 - - Sparta depleted, 248 - - SPENCER, H., 7 - - State and nation, 175 - - States, limits of size, 131 - - Status to contract, 285 - - ST. JOHN, Sir S., 117 - - STOLL, 46 - - Subraces, 120 - - Suggestibility and emotion, 41 - - Superiority, intellectual, 263; - of public opinion, 194; - racial and cultural, 120 - - Sympathetic action, national, 188 - - - TANCRED DE HAUTEVILLE, 239 - - Telepathy, 28 - - Tolerance, 294 - - TOLSTOI and anarchism, 152 - - TOURVILLE, H. DE, 231, 233 - - TOWNSEND, MEREDITH, 221 - - Tradition in political life, 191 - - Tribal conflict, 245; - consciousness, 159 - - Two party system, 190 - - - Unity of nation, 157 - - Utilitarianism, 3 - - - Value of nationality, 177 - - Variability of blended races, 140; - and progress, 280 - - Variation, spontaneous, 209 - - VOLNEY on colonists, 226 - - Voluntary groups, 77 - - _Vue d'ensemble_ in psychology, 2 - - - WALLACE, A. R., on our ancestors, 120 - - War and national unity, 142 - - WEBB, SIDNEY, 258 - - WELLDON, Bishop, on sons of clergy, 255 - - WHETHAM, 262 - - Will of the people, 156 - - WINGFIELD, STRATFORD, 179 - - Womb of peoples, 238 - - World communications, 133 - - Written Codes, influence of, 271 - - * * * * * - -THE CAMBRIDGE PSYCHOLOGICAL LIBRARY - -GENERAL EDITOR - -G. DAWES HICKS, M.A., PH.D., LITT.D. - -PROFESSOR OF PHILOSOPHY IN UNIVERSITY COLLEGE, LONDON - - -The progress of Psychology during the last half century has been both -rapid and extensive. Along the lines of theoretical inquiry significant -and far-reaching results have been attained; the methods of experimental -research have been successfully applied to a wide range of mental -phenomena; and it is now generally recognised that in connexion with the -subject-matter of many branches of scientific pursuit psychological -problems of fundamental importance present themselves for solution. 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