1*! (pip CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND GIVEN IN 1891 BY HENRY WILLIAMS SAGE DATE DU "^TWrTfr^ )^^^Hm^^ MBA 1^7(1 MB HM66 .045"'" """"'"^ "■'"'^^ The elements of sociolpg olin 3 1924 032 491 718 Cornell University Library The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924032491718 THE ELEMENTS OF SOCIOLOGY BY THE SAME AUTHOR THE PRINCIPLES OF SOCIOLOGY. 1896. New York, The Macmillan Company. London, Macmil- lan & Co., Ltd. French translation, 1897. Paris, V. Giard and E. Briere. Russian translation, 1898. Moscow. Spanish translation, in press. Madrid. THE THEORY OF SOCIALIZATION. 1897. New York, The Macmillan Company. London, Macmil- lan & Co., Ltd. Italian translation, 1898. Turin, Roux Frassati e Co. THE ELEMENTS OF SOCIOLOGY FOR COLLEGES AND SCHOOLS FRANKLIN HENRY GIDDINGS, M.A., Ph.D. PROFESSOR OF SOCIOLOGY IN COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY, NEW YORK AUTHOR OF " THE PRINCIPLES OF SOCIOLOGY " ¥£fa go* THE MACMILLAN COMPANY LONDON : MACMILLAN & CO., LTD. All rights reserved Copyright, 1898, By the MACMILLAN COMPANY. Norfanoli J^resa J. S. Cashing & Co. - Berwick Sc Smith Norwood Mass. U.S.A. PREFACE The present volume is what its title implies, an ele- mentary text-book of Sociology. It has been written in response to a persistent and growing demand for an untechnical but scientific and reasonably complete state- ment of sociological theory, for the use of college and school classes. No other subject calls for such serious attention from teachers and students of educational philosophy at the present time as that of the best preparation for an intel- ligent and responsible citizenship. Marvellous as the development of the United States has been during the century that is now closing, greater destinies are yet to be realized. Our task in furthering the civilization of the world is to be a large and responsible one ; no other nation can assume it for us or perform it if we fail. Delicate as our international relations have been during our attempt to establish a secure republic in a world of monarchies, they are to be more delicate and more diffi- cult in the near future when the European powers attempt to rectify their colonial boundaries. Complicated as our financial problems have already been, they will hereafter call for greater wisdom than has been bestowed upon them hitherto. Difficult as has been the attempt to vi Preface organize efficient, economical, and honest municipal government for cities numbering millions of inhabitants, the difficulties will continue to increase as population grows and wealth accumulates. Neither good luck nor any mere intuition of common sense will enable us to maintain the reality of republican freedom unless we have other resources to draw upon. Besides common sense and energy, we must have knowledge, training, and an unselfish devotion to the cause of human progress. It is certain, however, that schools and colleges cannot furnish detailed courses in all branches of economic, legal, and political science. The field is too vast and the years of study are too brief. To a majority of teachers the alternative seems to be to give either a thorough course in some one subject — Political Economy, for example — or a superficial course in many subjects, including "Civics" (or Elementary Constitutional Law), International Law, and Political Ethics. In the judgment of the present writer, it would be wise to devote a large part of the time available for such dis- ciplines to a careful study of the nature and laws of human society. This study would familiarize the pupil with the principal forms of social organization ; with the thoughts, the sympathies, the purposes, and the virtues that make society possible ; with the benefits that society confers ; and with the conduct that worthy membership of society requires. These are the facts and principles that underlie all details of law and politics, all sound political economy, and all public morality. Well instructed in these rnatters, th? student j.s fittecj to continue his study of Preface vii society and public policy throughout life. Without this foundation, no acquaintance with legal or historical detail can give him a comprehensive grasp of social relations. That this opinion is shared by many teachers the author has abundant evidence; and because of it the present text- book has been written. Sociology, as here set forth, is nothing more or less than an elementary description of society in clear and simple scientific terms. It will not be found more difficult as a class subject than Algebra, Chemistry, or Elementary Psychology. This volume is not an abridgment of the author's "Principles of Sociology," but is a new book. Many paragraphs, however, and here and there entire pages, have been adapted from the larger work. New York, August, 1898. TABLE OF CONTENTS CHAPTER I PAGE Population and Society . . . . . • . . i CHAPTER II Where Aggregations of People are Formed . . . -13 CHAPTER III How Aggregations of People are Formed 22 CHAPTER IV The Composition and the Unity of a Social Population . . 29 CHAPTER V The Practical Activities of Socii ....... 34 CHAPTER VI Socialization ......... 53 CHAPTER VII Cooperation .......... 76 CHAPTER VIII Social Pleasure 88 CHAPTER IX The Social Nature ......... 95 ix X Table of Contents CHAPTER X PAGE The Classes of Socii 103 CHAPTER XI The Preeminent Social Class 113 CHAPTER Xn The Social Mind : Modes of Like-mindedness . . . . iig CHAPTER Xni Sympathetic Like-mindedness and Impulsive Social Action . 129 CHAPTER XIV Formal Like-mindedness : Tradition and Conformity . . .141 CHAPTER XV Rational Like-mindedness : Public Opinion and Social Values . 155 CHAPTER XVI Social Organization ......... 172 CHAPTER XVII Component Societies . . . . . . . .170 CHAPTER XVIII Constituent Societies . . . . . . , . .103 CHAPTER XIX The Character and Efficiency of Organization . . . .216 CHAPTER XX The Early History of Society ;•..,,. ■2-i\ Table of Contents xi CHAPTER XXI V\K.K Tribal Society 254 CHAPTER XXn Civilization .......... 272 CHAPTER XXIII Progress 290 CHAPTER XXIV Democracy .......... 302 CHAPTER XXV The Theory of Society ........ 330 THE ELEMENTS OF SOCIOLOGY CHAPTER I Population and Society The Groupings of Like Things. — If we wish to under- stand the world in which we live, we must cultivate the habit of noticing what things are like one another. It is true that we must also notice what things are unlike one another. If we were unaware of differences, we should not know. If our eyes were not sensitive to differences of brightness and of colour, if our ears were deaf to gradations of sound, and if the nerves of the skin detected no inequalities of pressure, the external world would remain, for our minds, a blank. Discrimination, then, is the beginning of knowledge. Nevertheless, it is only a beginning. If we knew nothing but the differences of things, we should soon reach the limit of the detail that our minds could hold. Endless progress in knowledge is possible only because we observe resemblances as well as' differ- ences. As rapidly as we discover that things are alike, we put them together in our thought as a group, or class, or kind. This enables us to think about them collectively by a single effort of attention, instead of separately by 2 Tlie Elements of Sociology innumerable efforts. We owe all science to this possibility of economizing our mental energies, by grouping things in our thoughts into classes or kinds. Comparatively few persons make their mental groupings in a strictly methodical way. To observe systematically and classify with precision — that is, to group like things together with accuracy — is to be scientific. Classification, then, is the foundation of all scientific knowledge; and classification consists simply in putting together in our thought those things that are truly and essentially alike. When we have formed the habit of scientific observa- tion, we presently discover that, in the world of external things, objects which are so much alike that we group them in our thought are usually grouped together also in space. If we follow the windings of a stream through the meadows, and notice the various weeds and wild flowers that grow on its banks, the insects that wing over its stagnant pools, and the birds that nest in the thickets along its borders, we quickly learn that it is unusual to find only one object of the same kind in a given place. We are much more likely to come upon great masses of cowslips or violets, swarms of gnats, bands of butterflies, two or three dragon-flies darting about together, and pairs, or even flocks, of the same species of birds, than to en- counter individual specimens. In like manner, if we extend our observations over wide regions in the same country, and then over the entire surface of the globe, we find that particular rock forma- tions, soils, and mineral deposits are found together in certain areas, and not scattered in a haphazard way Population and Society 3 throughout the continents ; and that species of plants and animals have their well-known habitats or haunts, or, as the naturalists say, their areas of characterization. The same is true of the varieties of mankind. The white, yellow, red, and black races are not indiscriminately mingled over the face of the earth; but each has its own fairly well-defined division. The natural home of the white races is Europe, northern Africa, and western Asia ; and from Europe they have spread to America, southern Asia, and Australia. The natural home of the yellow races is northern and eastern Asia. The natural home of the red races is America. The natural home of the black races is Africa, southern Asia, and the islands of the Pacific Ocean. Even of the national varieties of the white races this is true. The Semitic groups dwell together east of the Mediterranean, the Slavic in the east and north of Europe, the Scandinavian in northwestern Europe. Population. — Any group of human beings of the same kind or description — that is, a group composed of persons who, in a number of important respects, resemble one another, and dwell together in a geographical area that can be fairly well-defined — may be called a population. The most interesting peculiarity of populations is one that is to form the subject of our present study. The individuals that compose a population are endowed with intelligence, and therefore have the habit of noticing re- semblances and differences, of which we have just been speaking. Among the resemblances and differences that they observe are those which they discover among them- selves — and it is in these that they become chiefly inter- ested. They become keen in noticing likenesses and unlikenesses of colour, race, and nationality, resemblances 4 The Elements of Sociology and differences of character and conduct, of tastes and habits. The individuals composing a population, like most other objects that are found in groups, are, to a great extent, alike; but unlike other objects, they also know that they are alike. Besides knowing that they are alike, the individuals that make up a population usually find enjoyment in their resemblances, and are likely to quarrel and make them- selves wretched over their differences. The white man, as a general thing, is glad that the men about him also are white men ; and white men often entertain feelings not altogether agreeable towards groups of black men with which they are obliged to have much contact. In like manner, men who believe or think alike about some ques- tion or interest that concerns them — for example, a ques- tion of religion, or of politics, or a question of political economy, hke that of gold or silver money, or of a protec- tive tariff — find great pleasure in their intellectual sym- pathy, and habitually quarrel with those who differ from them. Finally, men who thus recognize their resemblances and take pleasure in their agreements find that they can work together for common ends. It is possible for them to have similar purposes in life, to agree upon the best means of achieving them, to understand one another, and there- fore to cooperate sympathetically and with success. Of all the resemblances which the individuals of a pop- ulation thus discover among themselves, and turn to good account, the most important are those mental and moral resemblances which thus make co5peration possible. Dif- ferences of race or of colour, of speech even, may be over- looked if there are agreements of thought and feeling. Popidation and Society S But without these, harmony, happiness, and successful cooperation are not possible. Society. — The facts that we have here been describing are called social facts or facts of society. The word "society" is derived from the Latin word socius, meaning a companion or associate. As soon as any person associates with another, or has a companion or friend, he is already aware of important resemblances be- tween that companion and himself. He knows that they are interested in the same things or like to do the same things, or that they have similar tastes, beliefs, or sympa- thies ; or perhaps even that they are alike in all of these matters. He finds, however, that in some things they differ ; but that their acquaintance and conversation often bring them to agreement or sympathy upon subjects which, at first, divided them. This process of discovering both differences and similarities, and of coming to agreement upon various subjects, yields a large part of the charm of their friendship. Just this process goes on in every population, not only between each person and some one other person or com- panion, but between each and many associates. That is to say, wherever many individuals dwell or mingle to- gether in one place, there goes on an active interchange of ideas and sympathies, a cultivation of acquaintance and of like-mindedness. Consequently the word " society," which originally means companionship or association, has been ex- tended to mean also this process of pleasurable conversation and cultivation of both acquaintance and like-mindedness. Society, then, as a mode of activity of intelligent individu- als, is the cultivation of acquaintance and like-mindedness. This mode of activity, of course, yields a certain result 6 The Elements of Sociology or product. It makes those who associate more and more alike in mental and moral qualities. Its product, there- fore, is a group of like-minded persons who enjoy and keep up this mode of activity. Such a group or product is called a society. A society, therefore, is any group or number of indi- viduals who cultivate acquaintance and mental agreement ; that is to say, like-mindedness. It is a group of socii. Such activity, however, as has already been intimated, is found only if there is a good degree of like-mindedness to begin with. Consequently, we need to enlarge and slightly modify our definition of a society as follows : — A society is a number of like-minded individuals — socii — who know and enjoy their like-mindedness, and are therefore able to work together for common ends. Kinds of Societies. — This is a general definition. Socie- ties are of different kinds; and the word "society," there- fore, has a number of special meanings, all of which are consistent with the general definition. Natural Society. — A population, as has already been said, is a group or number of individuals who, in many im- portant ways, are alike, and who live within the same fairly well-defined area. It has also been shown that the habit of cultivating acquaintance and like-mindedness, making them more nearly perfect, extends throughout the popu- lation. An entire population, therefore, is, or tends to become, a single social group or society. The process is a natural one, which goes on just the same whether indi- viduals give much conscious attention to it or not. A population maintaining social activities may therefore be called a social population or natural society. A natural society is a population that is composed of Population and Society y like-minded individuals who know and enjoy their like- mindedness, and are therefore able to work together for common ends. Tke Integral Society. — A natural society which is large enough to carry on every known kind of social activity and cooperation, including such activities as government, industry, education, religion, science, and art, and which, independently of any other society, maintains control over the territory that it occupies, may be called an integral society. Thus, each of the great modern nations, the United States, England, France, Germany, for example, is an integral society. Component Societies. — Within each integral society are to be found social groups that, in many respects, but not in all, are complete and independent. Each of these groups if left to itself could maintain its existence and perfect a complete social life. But in fact it is subordi- nate in certain matters to the larger society which includes it. Such social groups are the several commonwealths or states of the American Union, and the originally indepen- dent kingdoms of the now United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland. Such also are counties, townships, cities, and villages ; and such, finally, is the smallest social group that could, if left to itself, grow into an entire pop- ulation or integral society, namely, the family. Social groups that could exist as complete and indepen- dent societies, but which in fact are only component parts of integral societies to which they are, in certain respects, subordinate, may be called component societies. Constittt-ent Societies. — Within each integral society, and within most of the component societies, are formed social groups of another kind. Their origin is always 8 The Elements of Sociology artificial. A certain number of individuals come together and, as they say, form or organize a society for achieving some purpose which they have in mind. Such a society, for example, is a business corporation ; such is a political party, a church, a scientific association, or a club. Socie- ties of this kind carry on the work of the community by a division of labour. They are not independent of one another. None of them could exist unless others also existed. Together they make up or constitute the com- plete social organization of the integral society. They may, therefore, be called constituent societies. Sociology. — In modern times every class of objects in the natural world, and every kind of human activity, has been made the subject of scientific study. Society and social activities were among the latest facts to be studied in a scientific spirit and by scientific methods. This was because a scientific study of society was possible only after a great deal of knowledge about other things had been accumulated. Social relations are more complicated than relations of any other kind. ' The scientific study of society is called Sociology. The object of all scientific study is to arrive at a com- plete description of the thing studied. The word " descrip- tion " is used in various ways, however, and we must be careful to distinguish scientific description from a descrip- tion that is merely pictorial or dramatic. A scientific description does not stop when the different parts of an object have been successfully presented to the mental vision so that we see them in imagination as we might see a building or a city. In scientific description, we go on to show how an object behaves or acts, and to show further how different acts or events are related to one Population and Society g another in a complete system. We show also the propor- tions, numbers, or other quantitative facts that may be discovered in the relations which objects and events bear to one another. Scientific description thus results in the discovery of what are called causes and laws, which are simply certain uniformities of order, sequence, proportion, i and so on, among the facts that have been described. Using the word " description" in this sense, we may say that Sociology is the scientific description of society. TAe Unit of Investigation. — The scientific description of any object or group of facts must start from that imperfect discrimination which common knowledge has already made of the object itself from all other things. Thus the sciences of Chemistry, Astronomy, Geology, Botany, and Zoology start from the familiar distinctions between one and another of the changing forms of matter, between the heavenly bodies and the earth, between living and non-living objects, and between plants and animals. But just because the scientific mind is dissatisfied with off-hand knowledge and abhors vagueness, it always be- gins its systematic classifying of things by trying to make its preliminary observations as exact as possible. This is done by stripping away from the subject of investigation all irrelevant, accidental, and occasional facts, and looking for what is simple, elementary, and persistent. The sim- , plest form of the subject-matter of a science is called the '' Unit of Investigation. The chemists have long known that their science is con- , cerned with the elementary forms of matter ; namely, ' oxygen, hydrogen, carbon, nitrogen, aluminium, chlorine, sodium, and some sixty more, — their number, qualities, atomic weights, and combinations with one another. The lo The Elements of Sociology element, then, is the unit of investigation in Chemistry. The astronomers have long known that the specific object of their investigation is not the heavens in general, but the particular planet or star, — its motion, shape, size, dis- tance, composition, and history. The geologists have learned that their subject-matter is rock, — its composition, density, texture, shape, fracture, cleavage, position, strati- fication, and history. The biologists, both botanists and zoologists, have found their unit of investigation in the organic cell ; they observe its structure, development, and combinations. The psychologists have two units of in- vestigation, because they study both consciousness and the activity of a particular form of matter ; namely, that which is found in nerve and brain. The unit of investiga- tion in the study of consciousness is 'sensation, which is the simplest of all mental facts. The unit of investigation in the study of nerve and brain activity is the nerve cell and its reaction to irritation or stimulus. What, now, is the unit of investigation in Sociology .■' The answer has already been partly disclosed. In its simplest form, society exists whenever an individual has a companion or associate. The socius, then, is the unit of any social group or society ; and his conduct is the unit of social activity. Every human being is at once an animal, a conscious individual mind, and a socius. As an animal he is studied by the anatomist and physiologist ; as a con- scious mind he is studied by the psychologist ; as a socius, loving and seeking acquaintance, forming friendships and alliances with other socii like himself, imitating them and setting examples for them, teaching them and learning from them, and engaging with them in many forms of common activity, — he is studied by the sociologist. Population and Society 1 1 The unit of investigation, then, in Sociology is the socius — that is to say, the individual who is not only an animal and a conscious mind, but also a companion, a learner, a teacher, and co-worker. Sociology studies the nature of the socius, his habits ■ and his activities. Whether there are different kinds or classes of socii, how socii influence one another, how they combine and separate, what groups they form, — all these questions also are questions of Sociology. The Problems of Sociology. — When a science has descrip- tively marked out its subject-matter and found its unit of investigation, it has accomplished the first of four tasks which every complete science must undertake. The second task of science is carefully to examine the activities or processes that may be observed in the object, or group of things, or group of interests, under investi- gation. Thus the chemist, when he has discovered the elementary forms of matter, observes how each element behaves in all possible combinations with other elements. The biologist tries to discover all possible modes of cell formation and cell development. The third task of science is to show what new products or combinations of facts or things are brought into exist- ence as a result of the activities or processes. Thus the chemist tries to discover what complex products can be made by combining the chemical elements in all possible ways. The biologist observes all the forms of tissue, and the different kinds of organisms that are produced by the different combinations of living cells. The fourth task of science is to discover and formulate the exact relations or laws which prevail among activities and in the evolution of their products. 12 The Elements of Sociology In a rough general way, the first scientific task of Soci- ology has been performed in this chapter. We have shown what group of facts Sociology studies, and determined the unit of investigation. We have now to go on and examine more carefully the processes or activities of society, the products which result from them, and, finally, the laws which explain both activities and products. PARALLEL STUDY Read Spencer's " Study of Sociology." CHAPTER II Where Aggregations of People are Formed Inhabitable Areas. — Natural societies are found only where the physical features of land and climate are favour- able to the grouping of living beings in relatively large aggregations. There can be no social activity without communication and acquaintance; and these are impossi- ble if individuals are so widely separated in space that they must pass most of their time in isolation. Rather more than half of the land surface of the earth is unfavourable to any massing of population. Mountain ranges, deserts, tropical jungles, and the intensely cold regions of the Arctic zones together make up this forbid- ding part of the world. Natural societies flourish where soil is productive and elevation is not too great an obsta- cle to industry and communication, and where climate is endurable. North America. — So far as climate is concerned, nearly every part of North America could be inhabited by man. But there are large areas here where subsistence could not easily be obtained. The Grainless North. — The northern limit of grain production is a line that extends from southeastern Labra- dor to near the head of Lake Superior, thence to the southern end of Lake Athabasca, and thence to the mouth of the Fraser River. North of this line, the winter cold, 13 14 The Elements of Sociology though severe and prolonged, is not unendurable. The summer is warm; but it is too short for the purposes of a varied agriculture. The primeval forests of this region are still the home of moose, musk oxen, and reindeer, and of many fur-bearing animals. Its rivers and lakes are well stocked with fish. Hunting tribes of Indians can live here ; but settlements of civilized white men can hardly be expected to flourish. So well informed a man as Professor Shaler predicts that this region will " remain a wilderness, unsought as the dwelling-place of civilized man." The Western Desert. — Another part of North America at present unfavourable to population is the so-called great Western Desert. It is an arid region which lies westward from the one hundredth meridian to the coast ranges of the Pacific, and stretches from the Canadian border, where it is nearly a thousand miles wide, into Mexico, where it is three or four hundred miles wide. It would be unsafe to predict that this region will never be occupied by a dense population, since we know from the success of the Mor- mon settlements in Utah, that, by means of irrigation, the arid lands may be made habitable. Indeed, it is possible that they may yet become the seat of great and prosper- ous communities. As yet, however, the population of this fourth great desert of the world is less than two inhabi- tants to the square mile. The Region of Fertility. — In wonderful contrast is the region east of the one hundredth meridian. Here the rainfall is greater than is necessary for agriculture ; and the fertility is of a degree almost unknown elsewhere out- side of the tropics. In no other land of equal extent does the soil bring forth so great a variety of products fit for human use. Nowhere else are drought and flood so nar- Where Aggregations of People are Formed 15 rowly localized by topography and by the direction of atmospheric currents, as to make a general failure of the harvests so nearly impossible. The population of this region in 1790 was 3,929,214; in 1890, 59,594,637. Local Areas. — Within this region, however, is a great variety of conditions and resources to which the local dis- tribution of population conforms. 1. The Coast Swamps. — One subdivision is known as the Coast Swamps. These are found along the South Atlantic and Gulf coasts, from southeastern Virginia to the mouth of the Rio Grande in Texas. Their greatest breadth, occasionally as much as one hundred miles, is in North Carolina and Louisiana. While nearly level, these swamps have slope enough for drainage ; and in the Caro- linas large areas of them are utilized for rice plantations. In colonial days one of their important products was indigo. In 1890 the Coast Swamps had a population of 21.5 to the square mile. It was composed mainly of negroes, who alone can successfully withstand the malarial climate. 2. The Atlantic Plain. — Another subdivision of the densely populated region east of the one hundredth meridian is called the Atlantic Plain. It is a strip of land lying beyond the Coast Swamps, and extending to a somewhat abrupt rise of the surface which is known as the fall line, because from New York down to the Gulf and as far as the Mississippi River, all the eastward-flowing riv- ers at this line drop by falls or rapids from a higher level extending westward. The Atlantic Plain is nearly level, seldom reaching an elevation of 200 feet above the sea; and, except where cleared by man, is covered by a growth of pine forests. Long since, however, most of it was 1 6 The Elements of Sociology cleared and reduced to cultivation ; and it is now the seat of the chief commercial and manufacturing towns of the East. Its surface is covered with a network of great rail- road and telegraph lines; and wide areas of the rural spaces between cities and towns are devoted to market gardens under high cultivation. The population of the Atlantic Plain in 1890 was 74.4 to the square mile, and consisted chiefly of whites. 3. The Pied^nont Region. — Next in density to the Atlan- tic Plain is the so-called Piedmont Region, which comprises a strip of country extending from Maine to Alabama, and lying between the fall line on the east and the Blue Ridge Mountains on the west. It is a region of beautiful scenery and of varied products. Its sweet grasses make it the choicest dairy region of America. It yields every kind of fruit native to temperate regions. It is rich also in min- eral wealth ; and, in a good degree, its water-power is util- ized in manufacturing. Its population in 1890 was 69.5 to the square mile. 4. Mountain Regions. — The population of the New Eng- land Hills — a term applied to the northern part of New England, including the upper counties of Maine, the White Mountains of New Hampshire, the Green Moun- tains of Vermont, and the Adirondacks of New York, a broken mountainous country ranging in elevation from 1000 to 6000 feet, and covered with forests — was 40.7 to the square mile. Agriculture in this region is difficult, and the returns are meagre ; but timber lands and quar- ries are sources of wealth. A population of 49.8 to the square mile was found in the Appalachian Mountain re- gion, which includes the Blue Ridge and the Appalachian valley north and west of it, and extends from New Jersey Where Aggregations of People are Formed 17 to Alabama and Georgia. The maximum elevation of this region, 6700 feet, is found in North Carolina. The Appa- lachian valley is drained in New Jersey and Pennsylvania by the Delaware and Susquehanna rivers, in Virginia by the Potomac, the James, and Kanawha rivers, and in Tennessee by the Tennessee River. Its occupations and sources of wealth are much like those of the New Eng- land Hills. 5. The Gi-eat Plateau. — From the northwestern border of the Appalachian valley, rises an escarpment which ex- tends almost continuously from northeastern Pennsylvania through Maryland, Virginia, and Tennessee into Alabama. From the summit of this escarpment stretches a plateau with a general slope to the northwest. It is everywhere deeply scored by streams flowing in a northwesterly direc- tion, which have cut the plateau into irregular ridges and gorges, and made it one of the most intricate mountain re- gions of the globe. It is densely covered with forests. Its population in 1890 was 59.3 to the square mile. 6. Timber and Lake Regions. — Southern Ohio and In- diana, the western half of Kentucky and Tennessee, the northeastern part of Mississippi, and parts of adjoining states are together known as the Interior Timbered Re- gion. Portions of it have been cleared and converted into prosperous farming areas. Other portions yield coal and other mineral products. Its population in 1890 was 44.3 to the square mile. A narrow strip of country bordering the Great Lakes, and including parts of New York, Penn- sylvania, Ohio, and most of Michigan, Wisconsin, and northern Minnesota, is known as the Lake Region, be- cause it has the characteristics of a coast climate. The atmosphere is moist, the winters abnormally warm, and 1 8 The Eletnents of Sociology the summers abnormally cool. This region is especially well adapted to grape-growing. Its population in 1890 was 25.1 to the square mile. In northwestern Arkansas, southwestern Missouri, and the eastern part of the Indian Territory, lies the Ozark Mountain Region, consisting in Arkansas of a succession of narrow ranges of 2000 to 3000 feet in height, and separated by broad valleys, and farther to the west of an area of confused hills and valleys without system. Its population in 1890 was 22.8 to the square mile. 7. The Southern Allicvial Region. — Southward from Cairo, where the Ohio joins the Mississippi River, to the Coast Swamps of Louisiana stretches the Alluvial Region of the Mississippi. It includes parts of the states of Mis- souri, Arkansas, Mississippi, Louisiana, and smaller parts of Kentucky and Tennessee. Most of the land of this re- gion is marshy and lies below the level of the water in the rivers. The dry land along the banks of the streams has been formed by overflows. Much of this region is cov- ered by forests. The soil is of the highest fertility ; but the climate is unfavourable to the white race. The popula- tion in 1890 was 23.6 to the square mile, and consisted chiefly of negroes. 8. The Prairie Region. — Finally, west of the Mississippi River, and east of the one hundredth meridian, lies the granary of the country, known as the Prairie Region. It comprises a small portion of western Indiana, most of lUinois and Iowa, southern Wisconsin and Minnesota, northern Missouri, and eastern North Dakota, South Da- kota, Kansas, and Nebraska, and extends into the Indian Territory and Texas. Its surface is level or undulating-, and in its natural state, before settlement by white men, Where Aggregations of People are Formed 19 it was covered with luxuriant grasses. Forests do not thrive here without protection; but they are increasing under cultivation. The population of this region in 1890 was 28.3 to the square mile. Pacific Regions. — West of the Rocky Mountains only two regions have as yet a population approaching or ex- ceeding ten inhabitants to the square mile. The Pacific valley, lying west of the Cascade and Sierra Nevada ranges, and extending from Puget Sound to southern California, has a population of 9.1 to the square mile. The lesser valleys of the coast ranges themselves are of great fertility, and have a population of 14.3 to the square mile. Altitnde and Temperature, as well as resources, have their effect upon the distribution of population. The average altitude in the United States is about 2500 feet above sea- level. More than three-fourths of the population, how- ever, live below the level of 1000 feet above the sea, and more than nine-tenths below that of 1500 feet. Three- fourths live between the isotherms of forty-five and sixty degrees. Europe and Asia. — If we look beyond the borders of the United States, we find still more strikingly exemplified the truth that population is dense where natural resources are great and climate is favourable. In Europe the areas of dense population are the fertile valleys, of the Po in Italy, of the Rhine in Germany, of the Seine in France, and of the Thames in England. In Asia the millions of India and of China are concentrated in the valleys of the Ganges, the Indus, and the Yellow rivers. Agricultural fertility, however, is not always the deter- 20 The Elements of Sociology mining cause of aggregation. Mineral resources, oppor- tunities for manufacturing and trade, may support vast populations in regions which would hardly produce suffi- cient food supplies from their own soil. Such, for ex- ample, is Belgium with its population of nearly 550 per square mile. In the natural course of things, however, regions which are capable of exporting food become, in time, centres of dense population if commerce and manu- factures are locally developed on the basis of the agricult- ural resources. Thus, at the present time, the countries that export wheat in great quantities are the United States, Russia, India, Australia, and the Argentine Republic ; and these are the countries which are, on the whole, most rapidly increasing in population. Primary and Secondary Sources of Subsistence. — The mass- ing of population at any given point is itself a condition favourable to further aggregation, because it affords pro- tection to individuals, and makes possible the development of those forms of cooperation which most rapidly increase wealth. Civilized populations in particular are, to a great extent, distributed with reference to these artificial condi- tions. The strictly primitive means of subsistence are edible fruits, grains, roots, fish, and game in their natural state. Human beings unacquainted with the arts of agri- culture and manufacture could live only where these strictly natural food supplies could be obtained. Foods preserved and stored up are a secondary means of subsist- ence which enable men to engage in other than extractive industries. The tendency everywhere observed is to ac- cumulate the secondary means of subsistence in great cities, where the secondary occupations of commerce and manufacture can be carried on to advantage. For Where Aggregations of People are Formed 21 this reason cities are becoming powerful centres of at- traction. PARALLEL STUDY In the volumes of the "American Commonwealths " Series, study the history of the settlement and development, by a white population, of the local areas described in this chapter. CHAPTER III How Aggregations of People are Formed Two Ways of Increase. — We have seen where aggrega- tions of people are formed. Let us now notice how they are formed. Everyday observation shows us that there are two ways in which populations increase. One is by the birth of new individuals, the other is by immigration from populations dwelling in other parts of the world. The first way, if birth rates exceed death rates, increases the total population of the world. The second method merely redistributes it, increasing some populations at the expense of others. Genetic Aggregation. — At the present time, different populations are increasing by births in excess of deaths in very unequal degrees. According to the census of 1890, the United States has an annual birth rate for the whole population of 26.68 per thousand. The rate for whites alone is 26.35 ; for the coloured it is 29.07. The death rate is given as 19.64 per thousand for the whole population ; as 17.00 per thousand for native-born whites of native parents ; as 24.42 per thousand for native-born whites of foreign parents ; as 19.85 per thousand for foreign-born whites ; and as 19.57 per thousand for the coloured. These figures, which probably understate the birth rate and are not altogether accurate for the death rate, show a rapid net increase of population by birth. The United Kingdom How Aggregations of People are Formed 23 has a birth rate of 29.9 per thousand, and a death rate of 1 9. 1, leaving a large annual increase. Germany has a birth rate of 36.7 and a death rate of 24.6. Austria has a birth rate of 36.2 and a death rate of 28.8. Italy has a birth rate of 36.6 and a death rate of 25.3. Thus it ap- pears that all these countries are rapidly increasing in population by births in excess of deaths. The most remarkable extremes are those of Norway and France. Norway has a birth rate of 30.7 and a death rate of only 16.4; France has a birth rate of only 22.1 and a death rate, in 1892, of 22.6, showing in that year an actual slight decrease of population. A population reproduced by its birth rate irrespective of immigration may be called a genetic aggregation. More strictly defined, a genetic aggregation is a group of kin- dred individuals that have lived together in one locality from their birth. The smallest genetic aggregation is merely a natural family composed of parents and their children of the first generation. A larger genetic group is an aggregation of two or three generations of descendants of a single pair. On a scale yet larger and more complex, the genetic group is an aggregation of families that may have been related or not at some former time, but that now are undoubtedly of one blood through marrying in and in. In taking the form of genetic aggregations, human populations reproduce the chief mode of aggregation among lower forms of animal life, a patient observation of which richly rewards the student of Sociology. The great colonies of social insects — ants, bees, and wasps — are genetic aggregations of a simple sort. Unfortunately, it is impossible to know how far the schools of fish, the flocks 24 Tlie Elements of Sociology of birds, the herds or bands of gregarious mammals, are merely genetic aggregations. It is certain that, to some extent, they are of mixed origin. In many respects, the uncivilized tribal societies of man- kind are the most nearly perfect of all examples of genetic aggregation. Their whole scheme of social organization, presently to be explained, is based on kinship. In civilization each nation, and within the nation each town and hamlet, is, in a great degree, a genetic aggrega- tion. The population of England so far as it is of English blood, the population of Ireland so far as it is of Irish blood, the population of Hungary so far as it is of Magyar blood, are in a broad sense of the term genetic aggregations. No large community, however, is a pure genetic aggre- gation. To be and to maintain itself as such, it would be necessary that no individuals should come into the group from groups dwelling elsewhere, and that, therefore, all marriages should be contracted between individuals already belonging to the community. In the United States and in other countries there are small local communities which are nearly, though never quite, pure genetic aggre- gations. Such, for example, are the Acadian settlements of Louisiana, many of the Pennsylvania Dutch commu- nities, many of the smaller Quaker hamlets of the same state, and many of the Canadian- French hamlets of the province of Quebec. When individuals continue to live where they were born and for generations to intermarry, it is usually because the region is one of abundant resources, or because of mental inertia, j The effective desire to seek fortune elsewhere is lacking. Sometimes, however, close intermarriage is a How Aggregations of People are Formed 25 consequence of some peculiarity of religious or political belief. Congregation. — The growth of a population by immi- gration is a process of congregation ; and it may be called by that name to distinguish it from genetic aggregation. It is a gathering in one place or area of individuals from many other places, or even from remote parts of the world, who are attracted by the resources or other oppor- tunities of a new home. Even more unequal than the increase of different popu- lations by births in excess of deaths, is their increase by immigration. The so-called new countries where vast resources are yet unexhausted, and unlimited opportunities seem to be offered to the adventurous and enterprising, most strongly attract population from its older centres. On the one hand, the United States, Australia, Africa, and the Argentine Republic are to-day the countries which are most rapidly gaining population by immigration. On the other hand, the United Kingdom, with an excess of births over deaths of 452,000 per annum, loses 32.7 per cent of it by emigration; Germany, with an excess of 537,000 per annum, loses 20. i per cent of it in like manner ; Sweden, with 56,000, loses 50 per cent ; Norway, with 28,000, loses 55.4 per cent; Switzerland, with 22,000, loses 34.1 per cent; Denmark, with 27,000, loses 22.2 per cent; France, with 92,000, loses 5.1 per cent. Congregation is a local no less than a national or general phenomenon. Wherever new opportunities are opened, men rush to them from every quarter. In i860 families moved from every Eastern state into the oil fields of Pennsylvania. In 1877 the town of Leadville, in Col- orado, sprang up with almost incredible rapidity, to dis- 26 The Elements of Sociology appear a few years later as quickly. In 1889, 50,000 "boomers" poured into Oklahoma in a single day; and in 1893 the scene was repeated by 90,000 like advent- urers. The cosmopolitan city of Johannesburg, with 50,000 inhabitants, sprang up in seven years on the deso- late steppe of the Transvaal, in the heart of the gold- bearing region of Africa. Emigration, immigration, and congregation, like genetic aggregation, in populations of civilized men reproduce the habits of the lower animals, of savages, and of bar- barians — all of whom were wanderers on the earth for \ages before civilized man appeared. Detachment from the parent group results from an in- crease of animal energy as commonly and as certainly as does procreation. Flocks and herds in any given habitat have a normal size which is a phase of the established equilibrium of nature, and which is maintained, as num- bers increase by birth, by throwing off small bands that seek new feeding grounds. There they meet and com- mingle with groups from other birthplaces, attracted like themselves by the food supplies, the nesting places, or other advantages of the new habitat. The congregating of the mammalia is governed in part by the distribution of such necessaries of their lives as water and salt. Prob- ably the most remarkable of all congregations, however, is the enormous aggregation of migrating birds and ani- mals in high northern latitudes during the short Arctic summer. In savagery there is a pressure from all directions towards the best hunting and fishing grounds, which brings unacquainted or unrelated bands into contact, and causes chronic hostility. The frightful struggles between How Aggregations of People are Formed 27 Algonquin and Iroquois tribes before the European settle- ment of North America were an incident of their conver- gence upon the valley of the Mohawk. The valleys of the Delaware, the Ohio, the upper Mississippi, the Colum- bia, and the Colorado rivers were repeatedly the centres of similar converging movements and the scenes of exter- minating wars. Among more advanced peoples, congregation has usually been the initial step in their history, as when Semitic, Hamitic, and Aryan tribes pushed into Palestine, or as when Germanic tribes pushed into England. Primary and Secondary Congregation. — For the pur- poses of sociological study it is necessary to distinguish between a primary and a secondary congregation. By the first of these terms we designate a coming together of individuals or families, that, although strangers and hitherto widely scattered, are yet remotely related, being perhaps of the same nationality, or, at least, of the same race. By secondary congregation we mean a coming to- gether of different nationalities or races. It is secondary because the unlike stocks have themselves been produced by an earlier or preliminary congregation of elements less unlike. The mingling of immigrants in the United States shows us both the primary and the secondary forms of congregation on a great scale. Causes of Aggregation. — We are now prepared to say, in somewhat more scientific terms, how aggregations of peo- ple are formed. The physical surface of the earth, and the living creatures that dwell on it, are continually acting and reacting upon one another. Animal life, including that of human beings, derives its energy from the food supply and the atmosphere and sunshine of the land where 28 The Elements of Sociology it dwells. This energy is expended in three ways. The first is in the search for, and appropriation of, new food supplies to maintain the life already in existence. The second is in reproduction, the birth of new individuals; and a birth rate in excess of death rate may always be taken as a rough measure of the surplus vitality of any species, r^ce, or group. The third way is in wandering and adventure. It is this latter expenditure of energy that takes the form of emigration and congregation. Populations are formed, then, by genetic aggregation and by congregation. The place where a population dwells is determined by physical conditions, and espe- cially by food-producing resources. But the cause of the formation of the population itself is found in the processes of genetic and congregate grouping. PARALLEL STUDY In Mayo-Smith's " Statistics and Sociology," study Chapters V, VII, and XIV. CHAPTER IV The Composition and the Unity of a Social Popu- lation Demotic Composition. — Because genetic aggregation is,^ practically never the only way in which a population i grows, a population is always a mixture and composition of elements more or less unlike. This proposition is not in contradiction of the statement made in the first chapter, that a population is composed of individuals in many respects alike. Likeness and unlikeness are facts of degree. Moreover, individuals may be alike in some respects and unlike in others. These facts, of degrees and kinds of resemblance, will receive attention later on. Usually the unlikeness of the elements of a popula- tion extends to differences of nationality, and often to differences of race. This is true of all modern nations, and especially true of the people of the United States. The intermingling of elements bred of different parent stocks and having, therefore, unlike qualities and habits, , may be called the demotic • composition. The word " demotic " means pertaining to the demos, the Greek word for people. The demotic composition, therefore, is the admixture of various elements of nationality and race in a people or population. It is the ceaseless emigration of individuals that creates in modern civil communities a demotic composition on 29 30 The Elements of Sociology the greatest scale. In the United States, in 1890, there were 9,249,547 foreign-born inhabitants. Since 1820 1 5,427,657 immigrants, drawn by the life opportunities that are here offered, have come to this country from Eng- land, Ireland, Scotland, Germany, Norway, Sweden, Italy, and other lands. Besides all these diverse elements, the United States has 7,470,040 negroes and 248,253 Indians. In the distribution of native and foreign born elements, no peculiarity of situation, industry, government, or faith prevents the normal intermingling. Thus, in Utah, pre- vious to 1880, polygamy was still practised and encour- aged by the dominant Mormon church ; and by most of the Gentile world, polygamy was abhorred. Nevertheless, the census of 1880 found that while 69.5 per cent of the population of Utah was born within the United States, 13.7 per cent had come from England, 5.4 per cent from Denmark, 2.6 per cent from Sweden, 2.2 per cent from Scotland, 1.7 per cent from Wales, .9 per cent from Ireland, .8 per cent from Norway, .7 per cent from Switzerland, .7 per cent from British North America, .6 per cent from Germany, and 1.2 per cent from other countries. Every local community, as well as every country, shows this heterogeneity of population; and every great city shows it conspicuously. In each 1000 inhabitants of London, 630 are natives of- that city, 307 are from other parts of England and Wales, 21 are from Ireland, 21 are from foreign countries, 13 are from Scotland, 7 are from the Colonies, a,nd i is from the islands in the British seas. But no demotic composition, modern or ancient, can be compared with that of New York City. Within that part of New York City which is included The Composition and Unity of a Social Population 31 in New York County, which is substantially though not precisely the borough of Manhattan, the composition of the 639,943 foreign-born is as follows : natives of Canada and Newfoundland, 8398; of South America, 471; of Cuba and the West Indies, 2202; of Ireland, 190,418; of England, 35,907; of Scotland, 11,242; of Wales, 965; of Germany, 210,723; of Austria, 27,193; of Holland, 1384; of Belgium, 626; of Switzerland, 4953; of Nor- way, 1575; of Sweden, 7069; of Denmark, 1495 ; of Russia, 48,790; of Hungary, 12,222; of Bohemia, 8099; of Poland, 6759; of France, 10,535; of Italy, 39,951; of Spain, 887 ; of China, 2048 ; of Australia, 342 ; of Euro- pean countries not specified, 3364; born at sea, 135; natives of all other countries, 1890. Next after New York, Chicago, perhaps, contains the most interesting mixture of nationalities. A map of the region bounded by Polk, State, Twelfth, and Halstead streets, prepared by the residents of Hull House, shows eighteen nationali- ties living, in 1894, within that district, one mile long by one-third of a mile wide. Antogeny. — We will now return to the assertion that, notwithstanding this remarkable unlikeness in the ele- ments of a population, a population is characterized by the likeness rather than by the unlikeness of its elements. Colonies and new cities in the first or second generation of their existence are occasionally exceptions. All other populations are perpetuated mainly by their birth rate rather than by immigration. For the purposes of Sociol- ogy we may designate this fact by a technical term, and say that a population is normally autogenous, that is, self -generating, self-perpetuating. Notwithstanding the enormous immigration into the 32 The Elements of Sociology United States, by far the greater proportion of the 63,000,000 inhabitants who were counted in the eleventh census were born within our territorial limits. Most of them had in their veins at least some mixture of the blood of the colonists and of those Europeans who came to America before 1821. In like manner, while there is an increasing mobility of population from state to state, from country to city, and from town to town, each local community is perpetuated mainly by its birth rate. New York City had, in 1890, 875,358 native-born inhabitants to overbalance her 639,943 foreign-born. The popula- tion of Greater London was increased during the ten years 1871-80 by 574,385 births in excess of deaths, and by 306,635 accessions from without, in excess of emigration. The same relation of natural increase to immigration is true of other cities, of smaller towns, and of all countries, though the proportions vary in- definitely. Thus every population, while it has a demotic composi- tion, and presents many species of unlikeness among its component individuals, is after all a unity. To a great extent of one blood, its members are always tending by intermarriage to become more and more homogeneous in this respect. At the same time, this tendency is being counteracted by new accessions of heterogeneous elements from without. The differences, however, are quantitatively less than the agreements. Likeness overbalances the un- likeness. The likeness, as we shall see later on, is the basis and cause of social cohesion or unity. The unlike- ness is the cause of variation and progress. Only as both are present in a social population can there develop a society at once stable and progressive. The Composition and Unity of a Social Population 33 PARALLEL STUDY Using the " Compendium of the Eleventh Census " of the United States and outline maps, make shaded or coloured maps showing the demotic composition of the United States as a whole, and in greater detail, that of the several commonwealths. CHAPTER V The Practical Activities of Socii Simple Activities. — Thus far we have observed popula- tion in its physical aspect only. We have looked at it as consisting of a number of living objects found together in certain places, and have examined the origin and the kinds of these objects, and the proportions in which different kinds are combined. We have now to recall the fact that these living objects are conscious individuals, who think and feel ; who have appetites, desires, passions ; who form purposes in life and try to achieve them. / It is with these mental facts, rather than with the physical ones, that we are chiefly concerned in the study of Sociology. 1 The sociologist, however, does not study the mental facts presented by a population for the purpose of under- standing the human mind. That is the business of the psychologist. The sociologist is interested in the prac- tical activities that spring from thought and desire. What men do, how they behave toward one another and with one another, how they form groups and unite in common action, — these, as has already been explained in the first chapter, are some of the important questions of Sociology. The social activities of a population are not by any means the whole of the practical activities in which the population engages. There are many kinds of useful work which are, or might be, carried on by individuals 34 The Practical Activities of Socii 35 without social cooperation. There are also modes of con- duct that are called moral, and that are studied by the student of Ethics, some of which do not depend for their existence upon social conditions. Therefore, that we may understand just what the social facts of life are, and how they are related to facts of other kinds, we must glance at the whole field of man's practical activity. We have seen that population is increased from two sources; namely, birth and immigration. There is no bet- ter way of discovering what are the important practical activities of mankind than by observing, first, what things children become interested in, learn to do, and are taught to do as they grow to manhood; and, secondly, what things immigrants become interested in and learn to do as they become adapted to the ways and conditions of their adopted country. Appreciation. — The first years of a child's life are oc- cupied chiefly in getting acquainted with people and things, and establishing preferences — that is to say, likes and dislikes. The child, however, does not get used to the world into which he has been born by learning about people and things in an entirely indiscriminate fashion. It is true that from the first he has experiences of contact with objects of many different kinds, living and non-living. But some experiences are repeated so much more fre- quently than others that he gets really familiar with cer- tain groups of things in the external world long before he learns much about others. The group that he has most frequent experience of and first learns to know well is made up of those living beings who are nearest to him and are usually closely related to him as kindred. His mother and father, brothers and sisters, and his nurse he knows 36 The Elements of Sociology better than he knows any other class of objects in the world. But not only does he know them better ; in an even greater degree does he care more for them. However fond he may be of his toys and various articles of house- hold furniture with which he amuses himself, he is usually ready to leave them to go to his mother for love and caresses, or to his brothers and sisters for play. Next to these kindred beings, he learns to know fairly well other human beings who, from time to time, come into the household. Among these he discriminates with liking and disliking, usually showing strong preferences. To some strangers he goes readily, showing a fearless willingness to adopt them into his little circle of friends. With others he will have nothing whatever to do. It is not until after these gradations of human acquaint- ance and preference have been well established that the child learns with any accuracy of detail the inorganic world which is so different from his own personality. Indeed, the great majority of human beings never, in all their lives, do learn the inorganic world with any such' accuracy of knowledge as they learn their fellow-men. The great truths of human nature were commonplaces of popular philosophy for ages before mankind had any true knowledge of the material constitution of the inorganic world. For many years of his immature life the child thinks of inanimate objects as if they were in some degree personal like himself. He talks to them, gets angry with them, or approves of them, quite as he would do with one of his living playmates. How is it with the immigrant.' His first experiences in the new land of his choice are curiously like the child's first experiences in the world. Like the child, the immi- The Practical Activities of Socii 37 grant first learns to know well, and shows a strong pref- erence for those human beings who are of his own kin- dred. He associates with the men and women of his own nationality and speech, who have come to the new land before him, and have not yet forgotten their mother tongue or the ideas and habits of their fatherland. With these people the immigrant feels at home ; and for a long time he is loath to break away from their hospitality and influence. Little by little, however, he becomes acquainted with the men and women of another nationality and speech, the native inhabitants of the country. He feels that they are much less like himself in ideas and habits than are his own countrymen. But he gradually gets used to them, and finds that he is establishing in his own mind many likes and dislikes towards these new acquaintances and their ways. Last of all, he begins to be familiar with the new coun- try itself, its resources, products, the details of its geogra- phy, its railways, buildings, machinery. The chances are, however, that he never learns this latter group of facts thoroughly well. Thus both the child and the immigrant find that their first business in life is to get used to the world in which they themselves are living. This process of getting used is partly intellectual; it consists partly in acquiring know- ledge ; but it includes also something more. With the knowledge is mixed a great deal of preference, of liking and disliking. With every act of learning some degree of pref- erential feeling is combined. In a rough way, every person and everything that is brought into the widen- ing circle of acquaintance is valued, and is assigned a 38 The Elements of Sociology certain place in a scale of values. This mental process in which knowledge, preference, and valuation are com- bined may be called appreciation. It is not that critical appreciation which we look for in the artist, the poet, or the scientific man, and of which we shall have more to say presently. It is a rough, preliminary, practically useful appreciation which serves every man as a mental guide for the purposes of everyday life. The first great practical activity of life, then, is appre- ciation. Utilisation. — The second interest that appears in the child's life has to do with the uses that he can make of things and of persons. As rapidly as he learns about persons and things, and finds himself regarding them with different degrees of pleasure or approval, he begins to try experiments with them. He tries to see what he can do with each new object that comes within his reach. These experiments are attended with different degrees of success. A great many things he can play with as he wills. Others resist his attempts, and cause him the disappointment of thwarted effort. On the whole, he finds that he can exercise his own will more successfully over that group of things which he learns last of all to appreciate — namely, the inanimate objects that are least like himself; and that his efforts to control, adapt, and use are least successful when applied to those objects which he first learns to appreciate — namely, the persons of his own kindred who are most like himself. The immigrant comes to a new country with habits of controlling and using things in the world about him already formed. Nevertheless, among his very early ex- The Practical Activities of Socii 39 periences in his new home are those of being brought into contact with new objects and circumstances which he had previously known only in surmise or imagination. As rapidly as he learns about these new things, and finds himself regarding them with different degrees of liking or disliking, he does exactly as the child does in his out- look upon the world. He tries many experiments with the new things that surround him, and the new circum- stances in which he is placed. New kinds of food are offered to him and he tries them. New kinds of clothing appeal to him ; and these also he tries. New amusements, too, are offered, and new forms of occupation, many of which he experiments with almost as persistently and unsystematically as the child does with his toys. Now all of these experiments by both the child and the immigrant have one common characteristic : they are attempts to use the external world, to adapt the things which it contains to one's own purposes, to control and apply them as one likes. To this process of trying to control, adapt, and use the things of the external world, we may give the name utiliza- tion. Utilization, then, is the second great practical activity of life. Characterisation. — It was said a moment ago that the child's attempts to make use of things and persons are sometimes unsuccessful. Many disappointments attend his early experimenting with the objects that make up his little world. On a larger scale this is true also of the im- migrant's iirst efforts to appropriate and enjoy the new things and the new objects among which he finds himself placed in the new home. He encounters many rebuffs ; 40 The Elements of Sociology he fails in many undertakings ; and he is often obliged to abandon cherished plans and to form new ones better adapted to the circumstances of his position. These failures and disappointments, whether they affect tne child or the immigrant, have certain important conse- quences. They act upon the character of the unsuccess- ful or disappointed person. If he is morally weak and has but little will power, he may become discouraged and continue through life to fail in nearly everything that he undertakes. But if he is strong, and resolute, and quick- witted, his experiences have a different effect. Failure only strengthens his resolution to try again. Ill success leads him to reflect upon the causes of his failure, and discover how he can do better another time. Mentally and morally he changes, as a result of his imperfect at- tempts to change and adapt the things about him. While trying to adapt the world to himself, he also begins to adapt himself to the world. He learns to be persistent, to control his temper, to face disappointment bravely, and to be ready at all times to abandon an imperfect plan and adopt another that promises better results. All these are changes in his own character. This kind of activity which consists in so shaping one's own character as to make it more and more nearly adapted to the kind of world in which one lives, may be called char- acterization. The third great practical activity of life, then, is charac- terization. Sociali::ation. — When the child encounters disappoint- ment, or finds that he has undertaken tasks too great for his strength, or too complicated for his wisdom, he turns for comfort, or help, or guidance, to those persons of his The Practical Activities of Socii 41 own kindred whom, in the process of appreciation, he has already learned to love and trust before all others. Al- though, in the attempts to use and control the objects about him, he has learned that he cannot do as he wills with these persons who are his kindred, he now discovers that they are always ready to help and advise him in his moments of trouble. Acting on this discovery, he begins to extend and to cultivate his acquaintance with a new interest and purpose. His motive is no longer a mere curiosity to know and an instinct to prefer. It is a desire for sympathy and for help. A little later, when he has passed from the home life into the larger circle of the school and schoolmates, he continues to carry on the selective cultivation of acquaintances and friends. It has now become a large part of his daily interest to develop these social relations. Very similar, indeed, are the experiences of the immi- grant in the land of his adoption. He too, in days of dis- appointment, turns for sympathy and help to the little group of his own countrymen who understand him and whom he trusts. They can help him in his distress, or advise him in his perplexity. Gradually he learns that his circle of helpful friends can be greatly widened. He is becoming acquainted with men of a different nationality from his own ; he is obtaining from them opportunities for employment; and he discovers that among them he can make strong and trustworthy friends. Little by little, he widens the circle, both making himself acquainted with the character, habits, and thought of the people about him, and endeavouring himself to become sufficiently like them to be acceptable to them as their fellow-citizen. In the course of lime he has thus extended his social relations 42 The Eletnents of Sociology until they touch all the activities of business, politics, reli- gion, and education in his adopted country. The practical activity which we have now described, consisting in the systematic development of acquaintance and of helpful social relations, may be called socialization. Socialization, then, is the fourth of the practical activi- ties of life. Complex Activities. — These four practical activities, of appreciation, utilization, characterization, and socialization are the simple modes of all the practical activities known to a population. The remaining modes now to be de- scribed are more or less complicated combinations of these four simple processes. The native-bom inhabitants of a country who have lived to adult years, and the immigrants who have become in a degree adapted to their new sur- roundings, together carry on these more complex practical activities. Economic Activity. — The most fundamental of these is the economic. It consists in a systematic attempt to sat- isfy human wants by the production, exchange, and dis- tribution of material wealth. Economic activity, it is obvious, is a development of utilization. Utilization is the first and essential part of the economic process. Econom'c activity, however, is more than utilization. It is the result of combining with utilization the two other practical activi- ties of characterization and socialization. To carry on economic activity, men must not only have the instinct to utilize and the habit of trying all sorts of experiments in adapting the external world to man's purposes, but they must have acquired that discipline of character which en- ables them to work persistently and with intelligent pur- pose ; and they must have formed the habit of helping The Practical Activities of Socii 43 one another in their work in all possible ways. Economic activity, then, is a moralized and socialized process of utili- zation. It cannot be understood by any one who ignores either the moral or the social factors. Legal Activity. — Next to economic activity in point of time, and of essential importance, is legal activity, or the | development and application of rules of law. A rule of law is one of those principles of right action which ex- perience in the task of developing human character has discovered and reduced to the forms of intelligent expres- sion ; which has been accepted as a sound principle by a population; and which has been put into the form of a command, which the population will compel all men to obey. In a sense, then, law is an expression of the rules or principles of characterization — that is, of moral con- duct, as the people composing any given population un- derstand and are prepared to enforce them. But legal activity, like economic activity, is a complex process. It is not characterization simply. '■ It is characterization with the cooperation of utilization and of socialization. In the development and application of the rules of law, a popu- lation keeps in mind the necessity of paying attention to utility and to material well-being. A great many of the rules of law have reference to the control of individuals over material things. This control, when it is permitted or authorized by the entire population, is called the right of property. Cooperating with characterization and utili- zation also is the process of socialization. The rules of law are not merely the rules of right action as they appear to any particular individual. They are the rules which appeal to men generally, and which men generally can | agree to abide by. Legal activity is thus a complex form of ' 44 The Elements of Sociology practical endeavour, constituted by the blending of utilization ] and of socialization with the moral process of characterization. Political Activity. — A third complex mode of practical activity in all large populations is the political. Its basis is socialization. It is a development on a large scale of the effort to form a sympathetic, helpful group ; to in- clude among the objects of cooperation a defence against enemies and an organization of means to preserve order within the population; and to enforce the rules of right conduct. It will be seen that utilization and characteriza- tion are both combined with socialization in creating po- litical activity. But more than this — so very complicated is political conduct — the complex economic and legal processes also are combined with socialization in creating political activity. The industrial interests, the property rights, and other legal privileges of men are all important factors of political development. Political activity, then, is that form of the practical ac- tivity of a population which results from the combination of utilization, of characterization, of economic, and of legal activity with socialization. Ctiltural Activity. — There is a fourth mode of compli- cated activity of populations, yet to be mentioned. As a result of all the activities thus far described, the individ- uals composing a population are continually acquiring a new interest in the world itself, in themselves as conscious human beings, and in their own well-being and destiny. They begin to ask themselves what they work, and organ- ize, and strive for; and the answer that they make to themselves is that they work, and strive, and organize, in order to perfect their own lives, to improve their minds and characters, and to enjoy the happiness that comes of The Practical Activities of Socii 45 bodily exercise, intellectual inquiry, the friendship of com- panions, and the love of kindred. This answer means that, after all, appreciation, which is the first practical activity, is also the object of all other endeavours. Consequently men begin systematically to review, criti- cise, and develop their appreciations ; namely, their knowledge, their preferences, their affections. This final form of the process of appreciation, which appears after the other practical activities have been developed, may be called critical appreciation. It finds expression in all the forms of science, art, religion, and philosophy ; and it is systematically cultivated by means of education. This fourth great group of practical activities, which pre- supposes all the others that have been described, may be called the cultural activities. The Motives of Activity. — • We have now roughly de- scribed all the kinds of practical activity that may be discovered in a population. Before we leave this subject, however, it is necessary to show how these activities arise, and by what methods they are carried on. All the conscious activities of mankind spring from cer- tain internal motives, such as passions, appetites, desires of various kinds, and ideas. It is necessary for the stu- dent of Sociology to become in some degree familiar with the motives of action because it is in them that the causes of social change, as of many other things in human life, are to be found. The Motives of Appreciation are discovered partly in the pleasures of sensation, and partly in the pleasures of thought. Light, colour, musical tones, soft and delicate surfaces, give us pleasure through the sensory organs of sight, hearing, and pressure. The child is continually 46 The Elements of Sociology moved to experiment with external objects because of these pleasures of sensation which they afford him. As soon as the mental life is somewhat developed, the more complicated intellectual pleasures of admiration and curi- osity begin to play an important part ; and they continue through adult life to provoke men to search for knowledge. The Motive of Utilisation is that mode of feeling which we call appetite. The craving for food is the primary cause of most of the first efforts put forth by any living creature. Somewhat later appear those desires which prompt the efforts of men to find shelter, to make cloth- ing, to provide themselves with comfortable houses, arti- cles of convenience, and adornment. The motive back of all these efforts is appetite in some form. The Motive of Characterization is a little more difficult to describe. It is a vague form of desire which springs from the needs of the entire bodily and mental self, rather than from the need or activity of any particular organ. If, for example, a man were spending nearly all of his time and effort in satisfying his hunger, many organs of his body which did not happen to be called into play would feel the need of exercise, and grow restive under restraint. The powers of his mind, too, would clamor for opportunity. Now this vague desire of the entire self for opportunity and activity is the primary form of the moral motive, — the motive of characterization. It is a desire for completeness and expansion of life, a pro- test against any incompleteness, failure, discouragement, lack of resolution, or breadth of view. We may call it the desire for integral — that is, complete — satisfaction. The Primary Motive of Socialization is the pleasurable- ness of acquaintance, companionship, and sympathy. The Practical Activities of Socii 47 When we first begin to associate and to extend our ac- quaintance, we do so simply because the acquaintance and companionship give us pleasure. After a while, however, when companionship and cooperation are found to serve many useful ends, such as making life more secure, and enabling us to do many things that no man could do for himself without the aid of his fellows, we discover a second motive of socialization ; namely, the usefulness of social relations. The Methods of Activity. — These various motives work out the processes or practical activities that have been described, through various methods, which, also, the stu- dent of Sociology should observe. Methods of Appreciation. — The motives of appreciation work out the activities of actual appreciation through two chief methods. 1. Response to Stimuli. — One of these is known to stu- dents of Psychology as responsiveness to stimulus. A stimulus is anything that excites the activity of an organ of sense. Thus, light is a stimulus to the nerves of the retina of the eye ; the sound waves that may be produced by a piano, the human voice, a violin, or any other musi- cal instrument, are a stimulus to the auditory nerves of the ear. The responsiveness of the organs of sense to any stimulus is the primary method through which the processes of appreciation are developed. 2. Imitation. — A secondary method is imitation. Imita- tion, as we shall presently see, is one of the most important methods of human action, especially in social affairs. To a very large extent the child's appreciations are arrived at through the method of imitation. Seeing something that excites his admiration and curiosity, he tries to copy it; 48 Tlie Elements of Sociology and in the effort to copy, he becomes familiar with it and strengthens his admiration of it to a degree that otherwise would be quite impossible. Methods of Utilization. — The motives of utilization work themselves out through methods that are known by the names attack, impression, imitation, and invention. 1. Attack includes the exertion of muscular force against any living or non-living object which we desire to take and use for our own purposes. It includes also the feelings and the ideas that are associated with such muscular efforts. These feelings are of all degrees, from the mere consciousness of strength to an active hatred of the object seized if it resists or proves to be dangerous. 2. Impression is the mental, as distinguished from the muscular power, that one person or animal has over an- other. Fear, and that not easily described mental state which is often called fascination, enter into impression, as, for example, they do when a timid bird is paralyzed by the snake. Impression, however, may exist when fear is hardly discoverable. The man of ordinary mental abilities always feels the superior power of a person of great intel- lectual gifts and executive ability, although that pers9n may be physically weak. Napoleon Bonaparte was physi- cally a short, small man ; but he never failed to impress those who came into his presence with a sense of his men- tal power and strength of will. Impression is one of the chief factors in all social affairs. 3. Invention. — Imitation has already been described. Invention, as the word is used here, means more than the mechanical invention which the word usually calls to mind. In the psychological and sociological sense, inventions include all new combinations of ideas, acts, things, and Tlie Practical Activities of Socii 49 forces. Thus the plot of a novel is an invention ; a suc- cessful act of legislation for overcoming some public wrong or inconvenience is an invention ; a new device in military or naval strategy is likewise an invention. Methods of Characterization. — The methods through which the motive of characterization manifests itself are persistence, accommodation, and self-control. Persistence and self-control do not need to be described. I. Accommodation is that change which takes place in any living being, whether plant, animal, or man, when new combinations or circumstances make necessary some modi- fication of previous habits. When, for example, a shrub is transplanted to a soil and climate different from those of its native place, the continued life of the plant depends upon its ability to adapt itself, that is, to accommodate itself, to the new conditions. We have shown how the immigrant coming to a new land has to make many changes of habit in respect to almost every detail of his life. All these changes are accommodations. Method of Socialization. — • The method through which the motives of socialization manifest themselves is called assimilation. I. Assimilation is a reciprocal accommodation. Two or more minds accommodate themselves to one another; each learns something from the others ; each gives some- thing to the others ; each nature is changed by the in- fluence of the others. Assimilation is the method through which the thousands of foreign-born residents of the United States who have come from Ireland, Germany, Scandinavia, Italy, Russia, and other countries are all becoming Americans. All are learning from native-born Americans, and native-born Americans are learning from 50 The Elements of Sociology them. Each is setting examples to all the others; and each is imitating all the others. Conflict. — All of these methods, — namely, response to stimulus, imitation, attack, impression, invention, per- sistence, accommodation, self-control, and assimilation — are so many modes of one universal method which is found in every form of matter and in every state of mind. That universal method is called conflict. Every change that takes place in matter is a conflict of atoms or of molecules. Life is a continual conflict be- tween the organic matter of plant or animal and the forms of matter in surrounding space. So long as the living matter is able to overcome, appropriate, and make use of various forms of matter external to itself, life con- tinues. But when, in the conflict, the external forms of matter become stronger, and wear away, or, as we say, dis- organize the matter of the living body, life presently ceases. All thought and feeling are a conflict of sen- sations, ideas, or groups of ideas. Even the pleasant friendship of companions is a conflict; for it must be remembered that not all conflicts are painful or even unpleasant. The discussion of differing opinions, the attempt to reconcile different plans, the struggle between two opposing wills, — all these are forms of conflict ; but they yield most of the pleasure as well as much of the unhappiness of life. All the sports that awaken the in- terest of boys on the playground, and afford them a chief part of the pleasures of youth, are keen forms of conflict. It is necessary to observe what forms of conflict are de- structive and painful and what are constructive and pleasur- able. Any student may see for himself that there are two gradations of conflict. In one there is such unlikeness or The Practical Activities of Socii 51 inequality between the contending objects or persons that the complete destruction or subordination of the weaker is the only possible outcome of the encounter. This sort of conflict, which results in complete destruction or sub- ordination, may be called primary conflict. All animal life is maintained by a primary conflict. Animal life is sustained only by organic matter. Even if mankind should become strictly vegetarian in its habits, human life would still be sustained by the primary conflict, because it would still be necessary to destroy vegetable organisms. Conflict, however, may be merely the opposition and struggle of objects, persons, or states of mind that are so nearly alike and so nearly equal that the outcome is merely a modification of the nature, position, or point of view of the contestants. This relatively mild kind of con- flict is secondary, and is more often than not stimulating, pleasurable, and helpful. It could be shown that the secondary forms of conflict all depend upon the continuation of the primary conflict. It is not necessary, however, for the purposes of our present study, to go into the more abstract details of the theory of universal evolution, to which this subject properly belongs. Toleration. — Primary and secondary conflicts appear in all the practical activities of life. What we call progress is a continual change in the proportion of secondary to primary conflicts. If, with so much of primary conflict as is essential to maintaining life and defending social organi- zation against enemies who would invade and destroy, we can continue to multiply those mild secondary conflicts that are pleasurable and helpful, we may truthfully say that we are making progress. But, as we have seen, secondary conflict is possible only 52 The Elements of Sociology where the contending objects are much alike and nearly equal in power. 'When it is possible for one contestant to annihilate, enslave, or suppress the other, the propor- tion of misery and disorganization may be greater than the proportion of happiness and organization in the result. But where the contestants are alike and equal, neither having any fear of ruin or of permanent injury, the strug- gle ends in a better understanding and a more complete cooperation. Happily, the normal tendency of conflict is towards equality and the milder forms of strife. The antagonism of primary conflict is self-limiting. It necessarily termi- nates in a kind of equilibrium which we call toleration. The very strong kill off the very weak. Then the very strong in turn are overborne by the numerical superiority of the individuals of average power. The majority then left are too nearly equal in strength for one to hope to vanquish the other ; and they are obliged to live on those terms of toleration which make possible the reassertion and renewed activity of the socializing motives. The equilibrium is nevertheless tested from time to time, and so is maintained, by frequent acts of aggression and re- venge — occurrences which may be witnessed not only between animals and savage men, but also, unfortunately, in civilized communities. The relations of similarity and dissimilarity to social activities and results will be further considered in the following chapter. PARALLEL STUDY In any good elementary work on Psychology, such as James's " Briefer Course " or Titchener's " Outlines," study or review the sub- jects, Sensation, Reflex Action, Imitation, and Accommodation. CHAPTER VI Socialization The Modes of Eesemblance. — At the end of the preced- ing chapter it was shown that if the individuals composing a population are very unlike in kind or very unequal in power, their relations are antagonistic in the extreme sense of primary conflict. If, however, there is substan- tial equality of power and a good degree of resemblance in nature or kind, association and cooperation are possible. It is necessary, therefore, to investigate the similarities that make socialization possible. In every population of conscious individuals, the simi- larities of kind that exist and that make society possible are of three chief modes ; and in each mode there are fur- ther subdivisions. Kinship. — The first mode of resemblance to be ob- served is that which we call kinship. It is the resem- blance of physical relationship, based upon identity of blood. Everywhere in the world this mode of resemblance plays an extremely important part in social affairs. Men of the same race have common prejudices ; men of the same nationality, in a still stronger degree, are drawn to- gether ; and in a degree yet stronger, men of the same family lineage show sympathies and common prejudices that play a part in all the affairs of their everyday lives. There are four important degrees or subdivisions of 53 54 The Elements of Sociology kinship. These are, namely, family, nationality, race, and colour. The family degree of kinship includes those who are most nearly related, as father, mother, children, brother, and sister ; and in some instances the slightly more re- mote degrees of kinship, as grandparents, grandchildren, uncles, aunts, and cousins. Nationality is the degree of kinship which includes all those of the same speech and political associations, as, for example, all Englishmen, all Frenchmen, all Germans or Italians. Race is the degree of kinship which includes all those of either one or more nationalities who are historically descended from some one stock and speech ; that is, all who are really of one blood and tradition, but who have been scattered through many nationalities. Thus, for example, the Saxon race is now found not only in England, but throughout North Amer- ica and in Australia. The Celts are found in Ireland, Scotland, France, Wales, and North America. The Scan- dinavian blood is found in Sweden, Norway, Denmark, and in the northwestern commonwealths of the United States. Colour is that most remote degree of relationship which includes all nationalities and races of the same gen- eral external appearance in the matter of colour of the skin and certain other physical characteristics. Thus, for example, the white colour includes such races as the Semitic, which has long lived to the southeast of the Med- iterranean Sea, the Hamitic of Ancient Egypt and Phoe- nicia, the Greek, Etruscan, Latin, Germanic, Celtic, and other races of western Europe. Another way of distinguishing degrees of kinship is somewhat less accurate, but still very useful. It is that which is employed in statistical accounts of population. Socialisation 5 5 Census statistics of population include these distinctions, namely, native-born-of-native-parents, native-born-of-for- eign-parents, foreign-born, and coloured. These distinctions are important as showing to what extent the demotic composition is a product of genetic aggregation, and to what extent it is a congregation. The native-born-of-native-parents are obviously more closely related through long-continued intermarriage than are the native-born-of-native-parents plus the native-born- of -foreign-parents ; and the native-born-of-native-parents plus the native-born-of-foreign-parents are more closely related than are these two groups taken together plus the foreign-born. Mental and Moral Resemblance. — The second mode of resemblance to be observed in every population is one that may be called mental and moral similarity. It may also be called like-mindedness — the name under which it has been briefly described in the first chapter. Mental and moral resemblance consists in a close simi- larity of the thoughts, of the sympathies and affections, of the purposes, or of all these together, of two or more individuals. These similarities do not exist except when there are similarities in those elementary mental processes of sensa-i tion and in those elementary forms of nervous organiza- tion which were alluded to in Chapters I and V. That is to say, mental and moral resemblance is a consequence of similar brain organization in two or more individuals ; and the mental and moral resemblance itself, in its most ele- mentary form, is a similar responsiveness of two or more individuals to the same stimulus or stimuli. For example, if two or more children prefer a certain 56 The Elements of Sociology colour, as red, or blue, or yellow, to any other colour that is shown them, these children, reacting in the same way to the same stimulus, are, to this extent, mentally alike. If two or more men, when entering upon their life work, show a strong preference for a particular occupation, as, for example, that of the sailor, they are to this extent mentally alike. If many men, upon hearing that some great disaster has overtaken the commercial world, are so filled with fear that they sell their stocks or other invest- ments, these men are mentally and morally in a high degree alike. Or, finally, if hundreds or thousands of men are so affected by some great wrong as to organize in political parties, to hold public meetings, and carry on a prolonged agitation to do away with the evil that de- presses them, these men are so far mentally and morally alike. Like responsiveness to the same stimulus is discovered in three stages of development. The first is a mere initial responsiveness; it is a mere first interest in any object. This first interest, even if for the moment very strong, may not last. It may produce serious social re- sults, however, as, for example, in a momentary panic. A second degree is that persistent responsiveness which becomes a habit or fixed manner. Thus most of our forms of speech and of courtesy are like ways of respond- ing to the stimulus of personal meeting which have be- come habitual. A third degree is the rational responsiveness which involves the complex activity of all the powers of mind and will, and the varied adaptation of means to end. This degree of similar responsiveness is to be seen when many individuals, confronted with some common danger Socialization 57 to be avoided, or looking forward to some common inter- est to be developed, consult, plan, and organize, and, from time to time, modify plans and reorganize their forms of cooperation as changing circumstances make new com- binations of means necessary for the attainment of the end in view. It is obvious that complete mental and moral similarity of this high degree involves not only like responsiveness to the same stimulus on the part of the like-minded iftdividuals, but also a substantial equality of mental and moral power. Potential Resemblance. — In every population there is to be seen one more important mode of similarity. This may be called potential resemblance. As the word " po- tential " implies, the resemblance here referred tois not one already fully established. It is a resemblance that is possible or in the way of being established. Strictly speaking, it is that peculiarity of two or more minds which makes them so act and react upon one another that in course of time they become alike. We all know from personal experience that there are some minds among our acquaintances that never become more sympathetic with our own. The oftener we engage in argument with them, the further apart do they and we seem to' drift. With other minds the case is wholly different. 1 The ripening of acquaintance is the ripening of sympathy I and agreement. Our differences disappear or become of [ little consequence. We learn to see things in the same' light and to regard them with the same feelings. This organization of two or more minds which makes their sympathetic approach or agreement certain is the thing which is meant by the term "potential resemblance." It is potential resemblance that makes possible the assimi- 58 The Elements of Sociology lation of the very different types of mind which come into a country by immigration, to the common mental and moral type of the land of their adoption. The Consciousness of Resemblance. — Such are the modes of resemblance that make socialization possible. Let us now look at the mental consequences of resemblance which enter into and constitute the process of socialization itself. \ Sensations of Meeting. — When two persons who have never before seen one another unexpectedly meet; some- thing happens in the nervous organization of each which, when examined, clearly shows that the meeting is as truly a conflict as would be a collision of two mortal enemies. The only difference is that the one conflict may be almost infinitesimal in magnitude, and involve no unpleasant feelings whatsoever, while the other would involve perhaps both terror and pain. That which takes place, then, in the nervous apparatus of a person who unexpectedly meets a stranger is either a shock of unpleasant feeling or a certain thrill of pleas- -^urable feeling. Which of these it would be, no human intelligence could beforehand have predicted. Now the feeling of shock, surprise, anger, disgust, which may happen to be the experience in the case, is beyond doubt due to a very complicated impression of unlikeness which the stranger makes. This complicated impression is made up of sensations of many kinds: sensations of sight, sensations of hearing, perhaps also sensations of odour and of touch. The man's appearance as seen with the eye may be repellent or threatening ; his voice may grate unpleasantly on the ear; the touch of his hand may create something closely akin to a shudder. Suppose, however, that the experience is a thrill of Socialization 59 pleasure. Here the effect is produced by a complex combination of impressions of unlikeness with impressions of likeness ; namely, impressions of the difference of the stranger from the person who encounters him, with impres- sions of his apparent resemblance. It is instantly clear that this hitherto unknown individual has his own distinctive personality; he is in many respects, perhaps in outward appearance, perhaps in tone of voice, almost certainly in mind and character, different from the one who confronts him. At the same time there is something in his face that pleases ; something in his voice or hand grasp that awakens confidence. This means that the activities of his mind, the peculiarities of his character, expressing themselves throughout his life in nerve and muscle reactions, have left in his manner and in the lines of his face a registration which the person encountering him instantly interprets as signs of a personality sympathetic with his own. It is a person- ality which awakens the familiar forms of thought and feeling of his own consciousness. It is quite possible for the first impression made by a stranger to be little more than sensation and emotion. Thoughts, ideas, perceptions, in the strict meaning of these words, may hardly enter into the matter at all. The whole occurrence may be little more than an awaken- » ing of what may be called organic sympathy or organic I repulsion in distinction from certain more highly devel- oped modes of the consciousness of difference and of« ' likeness which are further on to be explained. Organic Sympathy. — The origins of this organic antag- onism or organic sympathy, as the case may be, must now be briefly explained. Many social facts would be alto- gether mysterious if they were not known to have a close 6o The Elements of Sociology connection with the simple mental processes in which or- ganic sympathy arises. Long before the infant begins to think, and while its mental life is little more than a series of sensations, it has entered upon a group of experiences which are preparing it to regard very differently the individuals who, in after years, will be found to be on the whole like its own self, and on the whole unlike that self. The infant does not yet know the difference between persons who are similar to himself and those who are very dissimilar from him- self. But he is undergoing experiences which will pres- ently make such knowledge inevitable. When he cries or coos, a certain impression is made upon his own organs of hearing by these explosions of his own voice. When his nurse or mother sings to him, a cer- tain impression is again made upon his organs of hearing. When the dog barks or the bird chirps in the cage, once more a definite impression is made upon the infantile nerves of hearing. But something else also is happening. The sound made by the mother's voice has been like that made by the child's own voice ; while the sounds made by the dog and bird have been unlike those made by the child's own voice. When the infant puts his hands to- gether or passes them over his face, he receives in his brain certain sensations of pressure. When he passes his hands over his mother's face and over her hands, he again receives sensations of pressure ; and they are very like the sensations that he has received from his own body. When he passes his hands over the sides of the crib or of the blankets or along the fur of the cat, he once more re- ceives sensations of pressure ; but they are unlike those received from his own body. Socialization 6i These simple illustrations serve as well as scores of others that might be offered to bring out a truth of great importance. This is, that long before a child perceives, or thinks, in the strict meaning of these words, it has' begun to lay up in its consciousness a multitude of experi-' ences in the form of mere sensations of likeness or of un-. likeness of kind or class. In all these experiences he himself is one term in the comparison. The external object is like himself or unlike himself. He does not yet know this ; but, at one time, he has sensations which are like the sensations received from himself, and at another time he has sensations which are unlike the sensations received from himself. When, a little older, the child is beginning to imitate the actions of people about him, if closely watched by an intelligent observer, he will be found to imitate more easily and more frequently the persons who are very like himself. Here again the child does not know that he is making any such discrimination. It is only the third party, the exter- nal observer, who can know this fact. None the less, the fact is one that will have important consequences for the child in later life. One of the simplest ways in which this truth can be proved by any student who cares to put it to the test is by observations of children learning to talk. Children can understand each other oftentimes when it is impossible for strangers to understand them, extremely difificult for the father, but much less difficult for the mother. That is to say, children imitate the sounds made \ by one another more easily than the sounds made by grown people. And, as a general rule, the child who has brothers and sisters a little older than itself learns to talk more readily than the child who associates only with adults. 62 The Elements of Sociology In the development of resembling individuals, the men- tal processes that have been described in the last five paragraphs are combined with a more general process previously mentioned ; namely, the like response of like minds to like stimuli. Accordingly, there are three chief factors of organic sympathy; namely, first, the like responsiveness of like individuals to the same stimulus; second, like sensations received by like individuals from self and others ; third, the readier imitation of one another by like individuals than by those who greatly differ. Perceptions of Likeness. — When the child begins to combine sensations of the moment with memories of simi- lar sensations in the past, and to connect these immediate and memory sensations with the objects which have pro- duced them, the process of perception has begun. The child now not only has like and unlike sensations ; he has perceptions of likeness and of unlikeness. These are much more complicated mental states. It seems probable that perceptions of unlikeness appear earlier in the experience of every individual than percep- tions of likeness. Indeed, likeness can be distinguished from absolute identity only by perceptions of the differ- ences that exist between things that are, in certain re- spects, alike. From this truth it follows that in the process of acquaint- ance the differences between one individual and another are first observed ; and that a sense of difference is always present in the mind to be more or less overcome by any growing sense of similarity. This is why it happens that when two strangers meet the mental experience in the first instance is one of surprise or shock, or of some milder form of conflict. Socialization 63 From this principle follow also certain other important sociological facts. In every mixed population, where men of different nationalities and different customs dwell side by side, the sense of difference long stands in the way of complete acquaintance and assimilation. For example, in any large American city, where are found the native-born and such groups of foreign-born as the Irish, the German, the Italian, the Russian Jew, and many others, the strong impression of difference between these types operates as a serious barrier to the complete adaptation of all types to a common American citizenship. The sense of difference, however, only impedes ; it does not prevent the appearance in consciousness of percep- tions of resemblance. If, in the population, there are in fact as many resemblances as are usually found in in- dividuals of the same species, much more of the same nationality, there presently appear in the minds of all who are sufficiently developed to be able to perceive dif- ferences (that is, to have perceptions of any kind) per- ceptions of a new order, namely, perceptions of similarity. Reflective Sympathy . — When the perception of resem- blance has arisen in consciousness, it immediately reacts upon that organic sympathy which has already been de- scribed. The sympathy between like individuals which takes the form of imitation and of like response to the same stimulus, now becomes an intelligent and reflective sympathy. It is awakened by the knowledge that an- other person is like one's self. When we perceive that some one who is organized as we are is doing a certain thing, we feel the impulse to act as he acts. If he ap- pears to be in pain, we feel a certain discomfort or even a certain degree of the pain that he experiences. If he 64 The Elements of Sociology is evidently in a state of great joy, we also feel a certain degree of gladness. We have now noticed three important mental conse- quences of resemblance between one individual and an- other. Resembling individuals have like sensations and respond in like ways to the same stimulus. They uncon- sciously imitate one another. These facts together make up organic sympathy. In course of time, with further development of consciousness, resembling individuals per- ceive that they are alike ; they become aware of their similarity. And in the third place, the perception of similarity, in combination with organic sympathy, becomes reflective, intelligent sympathy. The resembling individ- uals not only sympathize with one another, but they know that they sympathize, and to a certain extent they are aware that their sympathy is affected by the perception of resemblance. Two more mental consequences of resemblance must -now be noted. Affection. — The perception of resemblance and con- scious sympathy commonly develop into the stronger feel- ing which is variously named liking, friendliness, and affection, according to the degree of its strength. Those individuals who, as we say, have something in common, that is, those who are so much alike that they are sym- pathetic and have similar ideas and tastes, on the whole like one another better than individuals who have little or nothing in common. We must not make the mistake, however, of supposing that in all cases the strongest affec- tion springs up between persons who, at the moment of their first acquaintance, are actually very much alike in mental and moral qualities. Perhaps the more frequent Socialization 65 case is that of a growing affection between persons whose similarity is that which has been called potential resem- blance. Apparently it is the capacity of two or more per- sons to become alike in mental and moral nature, under each other's influence, that gives rise to the strongest friendship and the highest degree of pleasure in compan- ionship. Desire for Recognition. — The remaining mental fact to be noted as a consequence of resemblance is the desire which an individual feels for recognition, including a return of sympathy and affection. When a person per- ceives that his acquaintance resembles himself in mind and character, and is conscious of a certain sympathy and affection for his acquaintance, he looks for some manifes- tation of interest in himself. He expects the acquaintance also to recognize the points of similarity and to show feel- ings of sympathy and liking. This state of mind is the basis of some of the most important social passions, such as pride and ambition. The Consciousness of Kind. — The four modes of con- sciousness which have now been described must not be thought of as separate or as independent of one another. They are so intimately blended that it is only by a process of scientific analysis that they can be thought of singly. In actual experience, they are united in a state of mind that, for the moment, seems perfectly simple and homo- geneous. The perception of resemblance, the sympathy, the a;ffection, and the desire for recognition that go with it, seem, for the time being, to be as perfectly one fact of consciousness as does the image of a person or of a land- scape upon the retina of the eye. This state of conscious- ness is pleasurable, and includes the feeling that we wish 66 The Elements of Sociology to maintain it and to expand it. The feeling that it car- ries with it is, in fact, like that which one experiences while engaged in a pleasurable game or witnessing an engross- ing drama. One does not stop to ask whether it is useful or worth while, any more than he does when eagerly look- ing forward to the next successful move on a chess board. He simply enjoys it while it lasts, and feels that it is worth while in itself, quite irrespective of any consequences that may follow. We are now ready to give a name to this interesting mode of consciousness which springs from the resemblance of two or more individuals to one another. We call it the consciousness of kind. The consciousness of kind, then, is that pleasurable state of mind which includes organic sympathy, the perception of resemblance, conscious or reflective sympathy, affection, and the desire for recognition. Complex as it is, the consciousness of kind is the sim- plest of all the states of mind that can be called social. All other states of the human mind which can be called social and which enter into social activities are found upon examination to be composed of the consciousness of kind in combination with various other ideas, desires, and pas- sions. The consciousness of kind is the cause of all the social activities and relations which men enter upon intel- ligently, knowing what they are about, in distinction from those acts that are merely automatic or impulsive. It is important to observe that, because the conscious- ness of kind is complex, it is necessarily an ever-changing mental state. It varies as one or another of its elements is predominant. At one time, it may be chiefly an idea ; at another time, chiefly sympathy ; at another time, chiefly Socialization 6j the desire for recognition; but never is it one of these elements alone. All are present in some degree. It must be observed also that the consciousness of kind varies with the degree of resemblance upon which it is based. Sympathy and affection decrease as resemblance becomes more general and vague. Thus, for example, there is usually a stronger sympathy among all members of a family than among all members of a nation ; and a stronger sympathy among men of a common nationality than among all men of the same race or colour. In like manner, there is a greater sympathy among Protestants than among Protestants and Roman Catholics taken to- gether ; and more sympathy among Protestants and Ro- man Catholics taken together than among all devotees of all religions taken together. The Law of Sympathy. — The law of sympathy may therefore be expressed as follows : — The degree of sympathy decreases as the generality of resemblance increases. The Objective Process. — The growth of the conscious- ness of kind is the mental or subjective side of socializa- tion. Socialization must be examined, however, from what may be called the objective side ; that is, from the side of certain activities which spring from the consciousness of kind and react upon it, making it a broader and deeper experience, expanding the thought of resemblance, and enlarging the sympathies. Communication. — The first step in this outward or ob- jective process of socialization is communication — the systematic exchange of ideas and feelings. In every aggregation of individuals in which there are many differences, but also some positive resemblances 68 The Elements of Sociology and already some consciousness of kind, there is always some communication. The first impressions of meeting are usually confused. Impressions of difference and impressions of resemblance are so mingled in the mind that one is left in doubt as to the real degree of resemblance and the possible interest and pleasure of further acquaintanceship. The desire to have more definite knowledge on these points is the origi- nal motive of communication. Among both animals and men, in the presence of a fellow-being there is always an expression of feeling by muscular movements, tones of voice, or articulate lan- guage. The expression by means of involuntary move- ments is often quite sufficient to reveal to the onlooker what he most desires to know about the person in whose presence he happens to be. Especially is this true of the involuntary expression of any feeling of aggression or of shrinking. The quick interpretation of such changes is a perception, and even a judgment, of kind — a sort of instantaneous decision of the question, " Is this fellow my sort of a man, or is he something else .■" " Among the more intelligent creatures, such as the higher species of animals and human beings, this first instantaneous judgment of kind is followed by a more deliberate and varied communication which corrects or verifies and expands the first impression. We have only to observe the action of two strange dogs when they en- counter one another, to get a correct idea of the origins of communication. Before concluding to fight or to make friends, they eye and sniff each other, show teeth, growl, and express a dozen shades of feeling and conviction by movements of the head and neck, haunches, and tail. All Socialization 69 this is simply a way of " sizing up " one another and de- ciding what their immediate relations shall be. Much the same sort of thing may be observed on any school play- ground. The new boy is surrounded and subjected to all sorts of inquiries and tests to determine what sort of a fellow he is, and whether he is of the right kind to be accepted as a persona grata by those who already have the running of the playground in their hands. In col- leges the "rushing" of men for the fraternities is another good example of the same process. Among adults in po- lite society the process is a little more refined and long- drawn-out ; but it is not really different in character. Be- fore the basis of association is finally established for two or more persons, their inquisition of one another extends to a comparison of genealogies, of personal experiences, of tastes, beliefs, and ambitions. The motives of all this communication are the desires to impress and to influence one another, and to know one another thoroughly well, and so to define the consciousness of kind. After ac- quaintance is established, much communication takes place which seems to have its motive in our interest in the sub- ject that we talk about. Even then, however, the other motives that have been mentioned can always be detected ; and it is probable that they are in all cases the really pre- dominant ones, although we are not always conscious of the fact. Association. — When communication is indefinitely con- tinued, association, as distinguished from mere aggrega- tion, exists, and socialization is begun. Communication has satisfied the meeting individuals that they are too much alike and too nearly equal for either to attempt in any sense, physical or mental, to conquer the other. At "JO The Elements of Sociology this stage of their acquaintance, however, it is by no means certain that the secondary conflict which must continue among them will always be sympathetic and pleasurable. In a population of mixed elements such as congregation often brings together, contention is likely to be harsh or even bitter during a long period of assimilation. Assimilation, it will readily be understood from the name itself, is the process of growing alike. Two or more individuals so modify one another's ideas and dispositions that, in the course of their acquaintance, their differences become fewer or less serious ; antagonism gives place to agreement ; and their ideas and purposes grow more and more alike. TJie Socialising Motives and Methods. — It is obvious that this process really consists in a modification of indi- vidualistic (that is, purely self-seeking) motives and activi- ties. The individualistic motives have been described in Chapter V. That which modifies them and produces assimilation and socialization is the consciousness of kind. Let us, then, observe the modifications of individ- ualistic motives, and of individualistic modes of activity, that result from the combination with them of a growing consciousness of kind. I . The consciousness of kind modifies appetite and desire. Few. if any, of our appetites and desires are what they would have been if each individual had lived by himself in contact only with the physical world and lower forms of life. When a strange food is first tasted, it is usually on the recommendation of one in whom we have confi- dence, and whose tastes in many other respects we know to be like our own. To a great extent we cultivate certain appetites and repress others merely because our associates Socialization 71 do so. Most of the consumers of tobacco "learn" to like it. Our clothing is chosen with as much reference to our class or set as to our comfort. In general, the standard of living is largely determined by the consciousness of kind. 2. The cotisciousness of kind modifies the ideas and the desires that enter into the consciousness of integral self- satisfaction. Fortitude in bearing pain and disappoint- ment, courage in facing danger, and persistence of purpose are greatly strengthened by fellow-feeling and the desire for esteem and praise. Besides thus fortifying the original moral motives, the consciousness of kind contributes a new one, the very names of which are significant of its origin ; to wit, kindness, affection, love. This motive manifests itself in a new mode of conduct, namely, self- sacrifice. Affection and self-sacrifice probably originate in organic sympathy. 3. The consciousness of kind modifies impression. Im- pression produces two very different effects. One is fear, which may become terror, and terminate in paralysis ; the other is fascination and pleasure. The one mode of impression is the cause of submission, surrender, and the abject kind of obedience ; the other mode of impression is the cause of loyalty, fealty, and the voluntary attachment to a leader. The effect of the consciousness of kind upon the fear- inspiring mode of impression is reflected in the saying that familiarity breeds contempt. The sense of difference and its accompanying sense of mystery are a large element in fear. These disappear with the discovery of resemblance. Rulers and dignitaries who wish to inspire fear invariably surround themselves with an air of mystery, and foster the 72 The Elements of Sociology public delusion that, in some inexplicable way, they are unlike other men. The effect of the consciousness of kind upon the fascination-producing mode of impression is to intensify devotion. The more " in touch " our leader is with us, that is to say, the more like us he is in every respect except his superior sagacity and power, the more blind and unswerving is our allegiance. 4. The cojtsciousness of kind modifies imitation. We do not imitate one example as readily as we imitate another. Other things being equal, we imitate the example that is set by an originative mind in our own class or circle. All of our motives and methods that are thus modified by the consciousness of kind become socializing motives and methods, and play their part in the gradual assimila- tion of the partially unlike elements of a heterogeneous population. It is, however, the socially modified imitation that is chiefly efficient. Social Imitation. — We imitate one another because our nervous apparatus is so organized that any sight or sound or touch is a stimulus which results in muscular move- ments that, by long habit, have become associated with such stimuli. If, for example, you see your friend reach out his hand for a glass of water, the chances are that unless you stop to think about it and deliberately restrain yourself, you also will reach out to take the glass of water that stands near you. We imitate, then, except when we consciously restrain ourselves ; and this we do not do if the action imitated is pleasurable, and is obviously conducive to well-being. In this latter case our con- scious will reinforces the tendency to imitate, and we deliberately repeat our own and one another's acts in- definitely. In this way conscious imitations may extend Socialisation 73 to populations numbered by millions, and be kept up for thousands of years. Modern civilization is the continuing imitation of Greece and Rome. This imitation was estab- lished in Germanic Europe by Charlemagne. It was carried to England by William the Conqueror, and to America by Columbus. It is now being spread by the nations of Europe and America throughout Asia, Africa, Australia, and Oceanica. Not all imitations, however, indefinitely survive. The imitation of examples in any way remarkable tends to overcome or to combine lesser imitations. It is for this reason that in each nation and in each local subdivision of a national population certain habits, such as customs in eating, clothing, and amusements, are practically uni- versal there, but are not found in other parts of the world. In every population, therefore, there may be ob- served a general approach to certain persistent types of action, expression, and character. This is the socializ- ing process in its most subtle and efficacious mode. It is this that ultimately blends the diverse elements of the most heterogeneous populations into a homogeneous type. It creates a common speech, common modes of thought, and common standards of living. By destroying or soften- ing many original differences of speech, belief, and prac- tice, it promotes intermarriage. It is these influences that will gradually assimilate all the foreign-born elements in the population of the United States to a persistent Ameri- can type. The Persistence of Conflict. — Imitations, however, are never perfect. The example or copy is never perfectly reproduced, and consequently, as any action or custom spreads from person to person and from group to group. 74 The Elements of Sociology it in some measure changes its form, just as a story re- peated by one person after another presently becomes so different from the original version that the one who first told it can hardly recognize it. Imitations, therefore, tend to multiply and subdivide and become differentiated. For this reason there may arise in any society a conflict among imitations. When this happens, one of two results must follow. If the conflicting imitations are irreconcilable, one must give way to the other. If, however, they can be combined, the outcome may be an entirely new thing or mode of activity ; namely, an invention. The most important of the conflicts between imitations is that be- tween imitations of things old, venerable, long-standing, and the imitation of novelty. The one kind of imitation we call custom ; the other we call fashion. At times custom-imitation encroaches upon fashion ; at other times fashion seems to encroach upon custom. While, therefore, imitation on the whole softens conflict and assimilates the unlike elements of a population, it at times becomes itself a cause of fresh conflict and an obstacle to assimilation. Thus, notwithstanding the socializing motives, there re- main in a population persistent causes of the more serious modes of conflict. First, of course, are the instincts of conquest which are kept alive by the necessity of destroying life to maintain life, and the instincts of aggression that are kept alive by the opposition always met with by those individuals and populations that develop more rapidly than others. Wherever civilization finds itself face to face with sav- agery, or a young and growing civilization finds itself opposed to one old and decaying, the antagonism is too Socialization 75 serious to expend itself in the lesser forms of secondary- conflict. Secondly, there are original differences of nature and habit that have not yet been blended or neutralized by the process of assimilation. Thirdly, there are the secondary differences that con- tinually arise through the conflicts of imitation. To these must be added occasional causes that at times operate with terrible effect. These are the failure of or- dinary food supplies, as in times of famine, and the occa- sional occurrence of some great calamity, like flood or pestilence, which demoralizes people with fear and so far destroys sympathy and self-sacrifice as to leave only the animal instincts of self-preservation in full activity. Subjective Toleration. — These lapses from toleration, however, are not enduring. The causes that establish toleration in the first instance tend to reestablish it after every failure. Cooperating with the tendency of primary conflict to bring about an equilibrium of strength, there is now, in addition, a conscious desire for the amelioration of strife. Socialization has moulded thought and charac- ter. In addition to toleration as a mere objective fact, there has at length appeared an idea of toleration and a wish to maintain it. There has come into existence a subjective toleration. PARALLEL STUDY Using the " Compendium of the Eleventh Census," make coloured or shaded maps showing degrees of kin.ship in different parts of the United States. In Psychology, study or review the subject '• Percep- tion." Read Aristotle's "Nicomachean Ethics," Books VIII and IX, Adam Smith's "Theory of Moral Sentiments," Part I, Chapters I-V, and Tarde's " Les Lois de I'lraitation." CHAPTER VII Cooperation The Nature of Cooperation. — Of all social facts none has received so much attention or been so carefully studied as cooperation. This word stands for many kinds of mutual aid. We say that men cooperate when they combine their efforts to accomplish a particular task ; as, for example, that of lifting a heavy object which one man could not move. We say that they cooperate when they work together in more highly organized ways ; as, for example, in a man- ufacturing establishment. Again, we use the word "co- operation " for combined efforts in aggression or defence. The soldiers of a regiment cooperate with one another; regiments themselves cooperate; infantry and artillery, army and navy, cooperate. Yet again, we use the word "cooperation " for political organization. The combination of various agencies of government and of these with the obedience to law by all good citizens, is no less a coopera- tion than is the combination of efforts in industry or in military operations. It seems, then, that, from one point of view, nearly every kind of activity in human society is a form of co- operation. For this reason there have been writers on Sociology who have described cooperation as the essential 76 Cooperation "jy and distinctive fact of society, and have thought that the science of Sociology was concerned chiefly with an account of the forms and methods of cooperation. This opinion can very easily be shown to be mistaken. Already the careful reader of the preceding chapters has become aware that the agreement, the unity of purpose and of method on the part of two or more individuals that cooperation requires, is not possible under any and all conditions that may be imagined. There can be no cooperation except among those who are, in a good degree, like-minded, and who are so far conscious of their agreement that they can intelligently plan their common activity. This is merely another way of saying that cooperation can be established only in a population which in a measure has become socialized. There must be a con- sciousness of kind, communication, habits of imitation; or, if these fail, where the population contains ele- ments not yet assimilated and too unlike for harmonious combination, there must at least be an established tolera- tion. Among these requisites for cooperation, the all-essential ones are the like-mindedness and the consciousness of kind. Why this is so must now be explained. Obviously, there can be no cooperation unless there is among the individuals who are to combine their efforts a common interest in some object or end which they wish to attain. Now this common interest is that men- tal fact which has already been described as a like response to the same stimulus. If a score of men and boys on the street unite in chasing a thief who has snatched a purse from a pedestrian, it is because they 78 The Elements of Sociology are all moved in like ways by the same occurrence ; their conduct is a similar response to the same stimulus. Moreover, there must be not only this common respon- siveness to the same stimulus, but also a perception by each of the cooperating individuals that he and all of those who are working with him are thus responding. That is, each must understand that all have the same interest and that all are endeavouring to accomplish the same end. If this perception were lacking, cooperation would be only a momentary occurrence that could not be continuously maintained. Besides these mental conditions of cooperation, there must of course be communication, and there must be con- fidence in one another. Already the student will have reflected that these men- tal conditions together are a consciousness of kind. Like responsiveness to the same stimulus and the perception by each that all have the same interest, are respectively a mode of like-mindedness and a consciousness of like- mindedness; while communication and confidence both grow out of the consciousness of kind and contribute to it. The actual relation of the consciousness of kind to cooperation can most clearly be seen from an examination of a few examples. Let us suppose that it is proposed to organize an expe- dition to develop the resources of some hitherto unoccu- pied portion of the world, which is believed to be rich in mineral deposits and to present fine opportunities for the development of agriculture and manufactures later on. The promoters of the enterprise will certainly not accept all who profess to desire to join the expedition. Only those will be taken who are thought to have the physical Cooperation 70 endurance, the ability to lead a life of hardship, the re- sourcefulness and presence of mind that are necessary in hours of danger, and, above all, the interest and faith in the expedition which will make them loyal to the enter- prise throughout all vicissitudes and disappointments. Suppose again, to take quite a different example, that a group of workingmen who are dissatisfied with their treatment by employers propose a combined resistance. One of two plans will be chosen : either a trade union will be organized, including those and only those who are engaged in the same craft or industry ; or a local organ- ization will be formed, including all those employed in many different industries, who have a common grievance. In either case it is obvious that the test of like-mindedness is applied. Devotion to a common interest is made a final condition of the proposed cooperation. Yet again, suppose that political cooperation is proposed. It is desired to convert large numbers of voters to a belief in the wisdom of a certain policy and to organize them effectively for campaign work. All voters who support this policy will be eagerly welcomed to the ranks of the party-following ; but diligence will be exercised in organ- izing the actual work of electioneering. Only those men will be accepted as campaign speakers, as officers of the clubs and committees, as interviewers, and as watchers at the polls, who are known to be earnestly in sympathy with the policy that is at stake. Once again, let it be a mere social organization or club that is to be brought into existence and, as long as possi- ble maintained for the pleasure and comfort of its members. Here also the tests of like-mindedness and the conscious- ness of kind are strictly applied. The man who is pro- 8o The Elements of Sociology posed for membership must be, as the saying is, a clubable man ; he must have the quaUties of geniality, good-fellow- ship, good temper, ability to contribute his share to pleas- ant conversation, and to whatever form of social enjoyment happens at the moment to be uppermost. In all these cases, accordingly, we see that in organizing any form of cooperation, the men who have the enterprise in charge are not only aware of the importance of like- Tnindedness and of a consciousness of kind, but also actually make these things the basis of the selection of the cooperat- ing individuals. Like-mindedness, then, and the consciousness of kind are necessary antecedents of cooperation of any sort; and cooperation is, therefore, not the fundamental or most / general fact of society. The Causes of Cooperation. — We have now further to observe that not only must like-mindedness precede coop- eration, but also that if the like-mindedness and the con- sciousness of kind exist, the cooperation necessarily fol- lows. When a population is undergoing socialization by the processes described in the preceding chapter, it en- gages in cooperative activities as a necessary consequence of the same causes and conditions that establish the mental and moral changes of socialization. This becomes clearly apparent to the student when once more he recalls the fundamental condition of all social ac- tivities; namely, the like responsiveness to the same stimuli, and remembers that like responsiveness is the doing of the same thing under the same or Hke circumstances. Like responsiveness to stimulus shades so gradually into coop- eration that it is often difficult to discover at what point the cooperation begins. Where, for instance, does it Cooperation 8 1 begin in the pursuit of the thief on the street, mentioned a moment ago ? The question is obviously one of degrees or stages of responsiveness. If, for example, all the men and women and children of a village rush out of their houses to see a fire ^:hat has flamed up upon the horizon many miles away, the act is merely a like response to the same stimulus. If, a few hours later, the fire is discovered to be a prairie or forest conflagration that is sweeping on- ward with great rapidity towards their own hamlet, these people begin to take measures to prevent the destruction of their property. They go out with ploughs and spades to throw up furrows of earth which they hope the flames will not cross. We now speak of their activity as cooperation. The only difference, however, between their conduct at the first and at the last is that at the last the like respon- siveness is carried a stage or two further and results in the accomplishment of a purpose of common interest. In ways like this, as a matter of fact, all cooperation arises ; and under favourable circumstances, all like respon- siveness to the same stimulus becomes cooperation. To the uncritical observer, the beginnings of cooperation such as may be seen among animals and, on a larger scale, among uncivilized men, seem to be merely accidental. Beetles among insects ; mice, rats, and squirrels among rodents, often aid each other in moving objects too heavy for one alone to manage. Various species of hunting birds frequently drive fish into the corner of a bay or curve of a river by forming a line across the water. Packs of hunting animals carry cooperation of this simple sort yet further. In all these cases it is easy to say that the coop- eration has originally been purely accidental, and that it has become habitual through the development of instinct 82 Tlie Elements of Sociology by natural selection. This explanation, however, does not go to the root of the matter. Instinct has not been devel- oped by natural selection without having had material to work on ; and that material, in all cases, has been the like responsiveness of the like nervous organizations of the cooperating animals or men to the same stimulus. Among like-minded individuals, cooperation thus neces- sarily initiated is necessarily further developed because it yields to the cooperating individuals the same kind of pleasure. The pleasure here referred to is not that which is af- forded by the remoter utilities, such as an abundance of food, or security against danger, in which the cooperation presently results ; it is the immediate pleasure of combined activity. When a boat crew rows or a football team plays for practice, it not only enjoys in anticipation the hoped-for triumph over a rival organization in some future contest, but it enjoys at the moment the pleasurable reac- tion of concerted physical and mental activity. In the ex- citement of play, the football men do not think of the future victory to be achieved ; they are absorbed in the incidents of the immediate contest. All cooperation, bringing indi- viduals together in combined effort, yields this stimulating excitement in a greater or a less degree and therefore more i or less of immediate pleasure, which becomes a motive for continuing and perfecting the cooperation. Thus begun and partially developed by like-minded in- dividuals, cooperation is yet further developed and per- fected because the remoter utilities which it creates are by its like-minded participants regarded in like ways. If a particular mode of cooperation produces an unwonted abundance of food supplies, or establishes a degree of Cooperation 83 security hitherto unknown, the men who have engaged in cooperative activity because they are like-minded neces- sarily see and interpret the results in substantially the same way ; they reason in substantially the same way about the desirability of perpetuating and increasing such results by a further extension of their cooperation. For three reasons, then, cooperation, which can arise only among the like-minded, among them necessarily does arise as a consequence of their like-mindedness and social- ization. They respond in like ways to the same stimuli, and thus find themselves actually cooperating before they know why or how. They find the same pleasure in cooperative activity ; and therefore, irrespective of its re- moter results, desire to continue and to perfect it. In like ways they perceive, interpret, and reason about the useful results more remotely flowing from cooperative activity, and therefore decide with a common judgment to continue and to extend it. The Forms of Cooperation. — Thus originating in like- mindedness, cooperation develops into various forms and through successive stages of complication, step by step M-^h the development of like-mindedness itself and of the cor^ciousness of kind. In i'^s beginnings, cooperation is simple and direct in its plan 0i~ form. Such, for example, is the cooperation of rural neighbours in a barn-raising or a corn-husking. Another simple form of cooperation is indirect. In- stead of being a combination of the efforts of two or more individuals in doing precisely the same thing, it is a com- bination of their efforts in achieving the same general result through a performance of different specific things. For example, each of two men in a camping party gets an 84 The Elements of Sociology abundance of fish and meat for his supper, if one of them has spent the day in taking trout, and the other in shoot- ing game, and at night they trade portions of their day's product. The cooperation in this case takes the form of exchange. All trade is a simple but indirect form of cooperation. Cooperation becomes complex when the direct and in- direct forms are combined, as they are in any undertak- ing in which different individuals, engaged in creating the same product or result, produce very different parts of it or work in different ways. In a manufacturing establish- ment, the cooperation is direct because all the operatives, mechanics, foreman, superintendent, and other employes, are engaged in producing the same sort of goods. It is also indirect because some are working at one process with one kind of machinery, others at a different process with another kind of machinery ; and because some super- intend or direct, while others are directed and merely fol- low instructions. Any operation into which the principles of subordination and of the division of labour enter is a complex cooperation. In the modern industrial world, these complex forms of cooperation enter into further complications through l^eir relations with one another in the market. Great manu- facturing businesses, themselves highly comple;^ forms of cooperation, are so many units in the vast system of com- mercial exchange. In its entirety, therefore, the indus- trial and commercial organization of modern society is a cooperation which has become doubly and trebly complex to a degree that can be fully understood only by the advanced student of Political Economy. And even this marvellously complicated system is itself Cooperation 85 only a unit in that greater cooperation of industrial with political, religious, educational, and pleasurable enter- prises, which, together, make up the entire activity of modern communities. The extension of cooperation from its simple beginnings to these complicated higher forms obviously depends upon an extension of genuine like-mindedness throughout the population and a corresponding expansion of the con- sciousness of kind. In the higher forms of cooperation each individual is working for and with others who may be widely removed from him in space and even in time. The merchant who purchases supplies in Asia, South America, or Europe to sell in Nebraska or California assumes the risks of his undertaking only because he knows the wants, the capaci- ties, the habits of thought, and the reputation for honesty, of persons separated from one another by thousands of miles in space and whom he has never personally seen. Only the civilized man can do this thing, because the sav- age or the barbarian is incapable of understanding or even of believing that men beyond his own range of personal acquaintance are suffifciently like himself in needs, in abili- ties, and in character, to make cooperation with them a possible success. In like manner, the capitalist who in- vests large sums in a new and untried venture builds upon an assumption that there are thousands of human beings in the world who are so much alike in their mental and moral organization that they all will become pur- chasers of the highly special product which he proposes to put upon the market, and upon the further assumption that human nature will continue to be in the future so nearly what it has been in the past, that he can count 86 The Elements of Sociology upon the continuing cooperation of those who are to sup- ply his materials and distribute his product. The particular elements of like-mindedness that are most essential to the higher forms of cooperation are those which enter into what we call good faith; and a common belief throughout the community in the general good faith of the individuals composing society is the par- ticular form of the consciousness of kind that also is essential. Although we have laws for the collection of debts and the enforcement of contracts, a majority of business transactions are really based upon good faith and good repute and nothing more. This is strikingly exem- plified in the enormous volume of transactions constituting what, in the United States, is known as interstate com- merce. Although attempts have been made for more than a generation to secure from Congress a national bankruptcy law, they have only recently been successful, and there is not yet any uniform law governing the col- lection of debts. Notwithstanding the uncertainty and the costliness therefore attending legal actions for the col- lection of disputed bills beyond the boundaries of the state in which the creditor resides, the distribution of goods from every state into every other state goes on as freely as if the legal machinery were of the most perfect de- scription. Every transaction is really based upon the good faith and reputed credit of the interested parties. This, in its turn, is only a mode of the consciousness of kind and of the underlying like-mindedness which is the basis of cooperation of every sort. Thus the study of cooperation at every point brings us back to the great fundamental truths of Sociology. The like-mindedness which is the essential social fact neces- Cooperation By sarily tends to establish and to perfect cooperation. All cooperation depends upon like-mindedness. All the higher and complicated modes of cooperation depend upon the extension of like-mindedness and the expansion of the consciousness of kind. PARALLEL STUDY Using the "Compendium of the Eleventh Census," prepare an analyti- cal table showing the principal forms of cooperation in the United States. CHAPTER Vlir Social Pleasure Forms of Social Pleasure. — We have seen that coopera- tion, important as it is in human society, is not the funda- mental or the most general social fact. Cooperation could not come into existence unless men were already, to a great degree, social. We have now to notice that cooperation falls short of being completely coextensive with social activity in an- other way also. When cooperation has been established, association is not, by any means, complete. The pleas- ures that companionship and cooperation yield have still to be perfected. Not until the pleasure of association has become so great and habitual that the temptation to purely selfish individual gratification would have to be very strong to overcome the counter attraction of social excitement, is socialization far advanced. Human beings living together in local proximity do not have to invent social pleasure ; but they soon acquire the habit of spending much time and thought in inventing and perfecting pleasurable forms of social intercourse. In every community a large proportion of time is spent in the various forms of social pleasure that have no other foreseen utility than the immediate enjoyment which they afford. Their object is not to make any- body richer, or more law-abiding, or more religious, but Social Pleastire 89 solely to make as many persons as possible happy for the time being ; and those who participate in them have long since discovered that, of all means of happiness, the social pleasures are the most tempting and exhilarating. Already it has been shown that recognized like-minded- ness or the consciousness of kind is itself a pleasurable state of mind. Sympathy, affection, agreement in taste and in opinion, are in themselves so gratifying that no one thinks of asking of what use they are. They are their own reward. The pleasure that they afford, however, is only the be- ginning of social enjoyment, and the source of other spe- cialized and developed means of social pleasure. In the chapter on "How Aggregations of People are Formed," mention was made of the various modes in which the energies of a population are expended. One way, it was shown, is that of getting a living; another way is reproduction; and a third is wandering and migration. Whenever a population has become socially organized and, by means of cooperation, has economized its expendi- ture of energy in getting a living so that, with a given effort, a relatively abundant subsistence is obtained, it finds itself with a surplus of energy to dispose of in new ways. Much of this surplus is soon devoted to amusement, or other purely pleasurable activity. This is only the occurrence on a large scale of what occurs on a small scale in the life of every individual, and of the lower animals as well as men. When the imme- diate needs of the body are abundantly supplied for the time being, all living creatures use whatever surplus of energy remains in the exuberant activities of play. This expenditure, of course, is chiefly found among the young. 90 The Elements of Sociology There is no more instructive observation than that which notes the ceaseless and beautiful play of young birds and animals. One can readily see that the incessant play of the young in animal societies is a chief means of develop- ing the social instincts. In human society the playtime of childhood serves a similar purpose. It is on the playground that boys and girls learn most of the lessons of toleration, sympathy, cooperation, and knowledge of human nature, and have those experiences of the pleasure of association that, in after life, make them both appreciative of the value of society and able to contribute to its defence or perfection. The simplest forms of social pleasure cultivated by young persons, as by animals and by savages, are to a great extent imitations of the more serious activities of life engaged in by adults. A great part of all play con- sists in mimic work or mimic war. Work and war have been the serious business of all animal species and of all human beings since their life upon this planet began. To get enough to eat, and to maintain life in the face of ene- mies, have been at all times the chief concern of intelli- gent creatures. In every part of the world, the play of young animals and the play of children consists largely of mimic combats in which agility, strength, skill, cun- ning, and daring have been developed and, by their exer cise, have afforded keen enjoyment to the contestants and to spectators. All this is true also of social pleasures that have become somewhat more formal in character. Dancing is a good illustration. The forms of the dance, if they are carefully studied, are found to be derived from the serious business of life. The march, for example, describes itself as of • Social Pleasure 91 such origin. Some of the less simple forms have been derived from imitations of the chase, and from imitations of animal movements of interest to the hunter. Among savage men dances are usually severe in form as com- pared with those of civilized people. This is because, to a certain extent, they are religious in character ; and when the student of Sociology has continued his studies sufficiently to investigate the origin of the sacred dances of uncivilized peoples, he will discover that they are connected with forms of animal worship. They imi- tate the running, leaping, flying, and other spontaneous movements of the animal species that are worshipped and mimicked. From these origins, by a very slow evolution, have been derived the graceful movements of modern waltzes, polkas, and other dance forms. Another form of social pleasure among adult human beings is the common meal which, in its statelier forms, becomes the banquet. That the common meal should develop into a universally appreciated form of social pleasure is a most natural occurrence. It brings together those who have become weary in the labour of obtaining and preparing the food supply, whether by the primitive mode of hunting and fishing, by the toil of the farmer, or by the effort and thought of the business man. The common meal is the satisfaction for which the effort has been put forth; and it affords occasion to combine with the gratification of bodily appetite the pleasures of dis- cussion, of story-telling, and of wit. From the primary social pleasures above described have been derived social pleasures of a secondary order which are developed through the cultivation of various forms of art. From discussions over the common meal have 92 The Elements of Sociology grown our philosophy and our law. From the story-tell- ing of such occasions have been derived our higher forms of literature — the epic, the historical narrative, and the novel. From the primitive dance, with its mimicry and its choral song, have come our drama, our lyric poetry, and our music. The pleasures that we derive from all these creations of the mind are social. Even when we enjoy them in solitude we are in imagination living with our fellow-men ; participating with them in conflict, shar- ing in their loves and their hatreds, sympathizing with them in suffering, and rejoicing with them in success. The Function of Social Pleasure. — Social pleasures are so easily abused that it is not strange that in all ages large numbers of sincere men and women have called them evil, and have sought to diminish their power over the people. In the excitement of social pleasure, work and duty may be forgotten, and the strength of character which is main- tained by self-denying struggle may be lost. Nations that have surrendered themselves unreservedly to pleasure have become effeminate, cruel, and corrupt. No one can read of the moral abasement of the Roman people as, year by year, they gave themselves over to the enjoyment of the brutal contests of the arena and to the luxuries of their thermae, without feeling that ascetics have had reason for their hostility to any public recognition or systematic cultivation of pleasure. Nevertheless, nothing is more unscientific than to con- found the effects of excess and abuse with those of normal use. The anchorite of the Middle Ages, who cut himself off from association with his fellow-men and deprived him- self of every enjoyment, was not less a moral monstrosity than the sybarite of earlier days. Social Pleasure 93 Therefore, while no community can afford to forget that the cultivation of social pleasure at the expense of sturdier social activities is a fatal error, it can no more afford to forget that social pleasure, under rational control, is the original motive of social development. We might as well expect the mechanism of our industrial establishments, of our railways, and of our steamships to move without steam and electricity, as to expect society to maintain its normal activities without social pleasure. The task of the social reformer is to contribute all that he can to the further refinement of social pleasure, to the elimination of modes of pleasure that are too coarse or too brutal to be longer tolerated among civilized human beings, and to perfect a rational control of the conditions under which social pleasures are enjoyed. He should remember, moreover, that true social pleasure is essentially unselfish. Those who participate in it should never forget that its perfect development demands of them solicitude for the happiness of their companions. Those who look upon social pleasure from this point of view are in little danger of carrying their own enjoyment to excess or of cultivating it by unworthy means. One of the most imperative duties of philanthropic men and women at the present time is that of improving the social pleasures of the neglected poor. Nothing would so greatly contribute to the moral uplifting and the political regeneration of our great cities as a development of true social pleasures among those who now seek relief from weariness and trouble in indulgences that merely drag them down to lower depths of misery and degradation. Perhaps no one subject in Sociology is, from the practical point of view, deserving of more painstaking study than 94 The Elements of Sociology this of the kinds and degrees of social pleasure that are necessary to the well-being of communities. PARALLEL STUDY Make an analytical and classificatory table of the prevailing social pleasures in a familiar local community. From Lecky's " History of European Morals " prepare a sketch showing the improvement in the character of social pleasures since the beginning of the Christian Era. CHAPTER IX The Social Nature Origins of the Social Nature. — From time to time, in the foregoing chapters, allusion has been made to mental and moral changes that occur in the individual as a conse- quence of his association with fellow-beings. We must now examine these changes in somewhat greater detail and discover how, in course of time, they develop in man a social nature. There was a time when the human mind was studied as if it were an independent thing. The various states of mind were analyzed and classified. No one thought of asking whether they had been produced by the inter- play of the mind with other minds and with physical nature. In short, the mind was studied as if it had either existed from all time without change, or had instantly come into existence complete and fully prepared for the experiences of life. Psychologists no longer think of the mind in any such way, or study it in any such imperfect manner. They now inquire how the mind develops from those simpler states of consciousness which are mere sensations until it becomes capable of engaging in long and complicated reasoning processes, of forming judgments on difficult questions, and of experiencing such complex emotions as 95 96 The Elements of Sociology are awakened by one of Shakespeare's tragedies, or Bee- thoven's symphonies, or Wagner's operas. In studying the mind from this evolutionary or genetic point of view, it is discovered that in almost every experi- ence and in every stage of growth, the social intercourse of an individual with his fellow-beings is one of the chief influences at work upon his own processes of thought, affection, and will. Intellectual Development. — In the chapter on " The Practical Activities of Socii " we have seen how, in the earliest years of a child's life, he learns to think of himself in terms of his observations of companions, and to think of them and of inanimate things also in terms of himself. In the same chapter and subsequently, we have further seen how important a fact imitation is, and how important also are impression, suggestion, sympathy, and affection. We therefore need not linger here to reconsider the mental and moral results of association that take the form of these mental states. We may rather give attention to some of the more complex and later developed results of associa- tion, which make the individual more and more fit for his place in a social group. Among the higher intellectual powers, without which there could be no such cooperation as one sees in modern civilized communities, no such organization of industry, law, and government, may be named the powers of persistent attention, generalization, and abstract reasoning. All sci- ence and philosophy are made possible by these attain- ments, and all the higher arts of civilization are made possible by science. Each of these mental attainments, however, is due chiefly to the association of the individual thinker with his The Social Nature 97 fellow-men. Children and savages are notoriously lacking in the power of sustained attention. Their minds easily wander from one subject to another. This is partly due to mere immaturity, and partly to a certain lack of vigour of the brain to sustain hard work. Power of attention is ac- quired through those experiences of association which fix attention for long periods together upon the same fact, such as an interesting event, a common danger, or an exciting strife. These experiences gradually strengthen attention until it can be sustained under less stimulating circumstances also. One of the chief means by which the attention of chil- dren is disciplined is that developed kind of play which we call a game. Any organized game requires for its successful practice perfect and prolonged attention to all its rules and details. Baseball, football, and rowing con- tests are among the best examples from out-of-door sports, while checkers, chess, and billiards are equally good exam- ples among indoor games. These, however, represent rather highly developed products of social amusement. A much earlier means of strengthening attention, both with children and among uncivilized men, is story-telling. The story is, in fact, the earliest means of fixing the attention of the child for any considerable number of minutes to- gether. The power of abstract thought, including generalization and reasoning, presupposes a perception of uniformity. This sort of perception grows out of the habit of noticing resemblances. In a certain sense, all uniformities are re- semblances. When, for example, the scientific man says that hundreds of different species of animals may be put in one great class together, as vertebrates, and that all 98 The Elements of Sociology vetebrates show certain uniformities in their mode of life, especially in their locomotion, he is simply putting into the most general possible expression the results of many thousands of observations of the resemblances of these different species to one another. Such accumulations of the observations of resemblance and of difference cannot be made by any one man. They are made by thousands of men who communicate their observations to one another, and so make them the com- mon property of all scientific observers. Moreover, they are continued through successive generations, each of which inherits the observations made by the preceding generations and transmits them to the generations that follow. Generalization, then, and the abstract thought of science, are possible only in society. They depend upon the influence of one mind upon another, upon communica- tion and cooperation. Not only is this true, but also the scientiiic habit of mind itself, the love of scientific occupation, is produced chiefly by the influence of one mind upon another; it is produced by example, by suggestion, by direct teaching, by sympathy, and by the love of approbation. Probably every man who has ever become distinguished through his intellectual attainments has been stimulated to his best endeavours by his knowledge of what other men before him have accomplished, and by his desire to equip himself as well as the best of them have done, and perhaps to discover new truths that they failed to perceive. Finally, what we call originality of thought is also a product of social relations. Original thought is possible only when one's beliefs admit of modification. If all of us were satisiied with the theories of the world and of The Social Nature 99 man that were taught to us by our elders, we should never give to the world any new truth. How, then, are the beliefs that we have received, from time to time modi- fied ? The answer is, by those new and varied experi- ences which afford us new points of view and discoveries of fact not before known by mankind. But these varied experiences, in their turn, we owe chiefly to association with our fellow-men. The continual movement of popu- lation in emigration, in travel, in exploration, colonization, war, and conquest, are the means by which the mental horizon of humanity is widened, by which old beliefs are subjected to new criticism, and new beliefs are established as a result of fuller experience. The Practical Judgment. — One intellectual product of social relations must be more particularly noticed. This is the practical judgment. As a result of their common ex- periences, men who live together in social groups, and in continual communication with one another, arrive at like judgments upon the important practical affairs of every- day life. How a man should conduct himself with refer- ence to his probable success in earning a living, what branches of knowledge he should endeavour to master, how he should treat his fellow-men in daily intercourse, how he should think about his country, its laws and government, — all these things are subjected to a judgment, in the ver- dicts of which a great majority of men are substantially agreed. It is a sort of judgment which fits the individual for life in society. If, on the whole, his opinions of these practical affairs are in agreement with those of his fellow- men, and with the results of the common experience of those who compose the social group, they say that he is a man of good or sound judgment. If, on the contrary, his lOO The Elements of Sociology views are very unlike those of men in general, he at once becomes an object of curiosity or of suspicion. If, for any reason, the community suspects that his notions are su- perior to those of the average man, he is regarded with a certain degree of respect or even veneration. This, how- ever, cannot happen unless, from time to time, his novel opinions turn out to be right, as demonstrated by some practical test. In the long run, experience is accepted by communities as the test of good judgment. If the individ- ual's judgments, differing from those of the average man, prove in experience to be bad, that is, if they often bring him and others into needless trouble or ridicule, he is regarded as a crank or dangerous person, more or less unfit for cooperation with his fellow-men in any prac- tical matter. Association, then, moulds the nature of individuals, making them more tolerant, sympathetic, and friendly, as was explained in preceding chapters ; more thoughtful, intelligent, and judicious, as has been explained in the foregoing paragraphs. In their totality, these changes develop a social nature; that is, a nature fit for life in social relations. Qualities of the Social Nature. — We will, therefore, in concluding this chapter, bring together in one view the qualities which association develops, and which together constitute the social nature. The true social nature is susceptible to suggestion and imitative, and thereby capable of learning from fellow- beings. This capacity is sufficient to make the social individual desirous to live at least as well as the fairly suc- cessful members of his community. He desires to enjoy what others enjoy, to do what others do, and to act as The Social Nature lOi others act. It is true that the man who had no other capac- ity would be little better than a machine. He would be of little more account than a puppet in a punch-and-judy show. Nevertheless, unless to a great extent he is like his fellows, desiring what they desire, and doing what they do, society and practical cooperation of any kind are alto- gether impossible. Yet, since human beings living in society are not mere punch-and-judy puppets, the social nature is to some extent originative. It not only learns from others; it also teaches others. It makes new combinations of imita- tions ; it makes inventions in the sphere of thought and conduct, and sets new examples. This it is enabled to do because, by varied contact with many phases of life made possible by wide association, it enjoys many different experiences which inevitably combine in peculiar ways and with peculiar results in the life of each separate individual. The social nature is tolerant. It has learned through social experience that the primary conflict can successfully be waged only against those inferior creatures that can be utilized by man as a food supply, and against those persistently unlike and antagonistic members of his own race who choose to remain hostile to the social organiza- tion to which he belongs. So far as the members of his own social group are concerned, he realizes their likeness to himself and their equality with him in many important respects. He has learned to give them the same opportu- nities, immunities, and enjoyments that he claims for himself; and he has not only decided as a matter of judg- ment that this is wise, but he has also learned to feel as an experience of his emotional nature that it is desirable and agreeable. The social nature, however, is not merely tol- I02 The Elements of Sociology erant in the negative sense of being non-aggressive ; it is positively sympathetic, companionable, and helpful. It enjoys comradeship, communication, social pleasure, and cooperation. It would be unhappy in isolation, and dis- satisfied if at work in an absolutely individual way without relation to the industry and patriotism of other men. Finally, the social nature is judicious. It is satisfied that, on the whole, the average judgments of mankind are justified by experience. It cannot, to be sure, be perfectly satisfied with any judgment, much less with all judgments. It is at all times ready to criticise, to direct, or to devise; but this it does in no cranky, captious, or quixotic way. It assumes that, for the purposes of social unity and cooperation, men must respect one an- other's judgments ; and that new beliefs can be made practically available only as large numbers of men are converted to them. The individual, protesting alone against the opinions of his fellow-members of society, may possibly be right, and they may possibly be wrong; but not until they are convinced of error can he wisely and rightly undertake to put his views into practical operation. PARALLEL STUDY Read Spencer's " Principles of Psychology," Volume II, Part VIIl, or Baldwin's " Mental Development," " Social and Ethical Interpreta- tions," Part III. CHAPTER X The Classes of Socii Inequality. — From what has been said about the effect of association in modifying the mental and moral natures of individuals it is not to be inferred that the effect is the same in all cases, or that the social nature is equally de- veloped in all members of the community. There are many reasons for the differences and ine- qualities noticeable among the effects of association. Not all men associate habitually with the same individuals, or associate with any individuals in the same degree. More- over, as we already know, while associating individuals at the outset have many points of resemblance, they pre- sent also many points of difference. They start with unequal bodily powers, the results of widely different con- ditions of heredity, and with yet more unequal intellectual and moral qualities. Always undergoing changes in its own character and degree with changing circumstances, association combines with the original inequalities of men to produce further differences. By no possibility can it happen that all can share so equally in the benefits of economic association that all shall obtain equally good nourishment. Even if a socialistic communism were established, and a sincere attempt to distribute wealth equally among all were in good faith carried out as far as possible, equality of nutri- 103 I04 The Elements of Sociology tion could not in fact be maintained. It would happen that some supplies of grain, meat, and fruit would be better than others ; that some would be better preserved than others ; that the sanitary condition of some houses and streets, notwithstanding the attempt to make them all alike, would in fact, on account of greater difficulties to be overcome, be always inferior to others ; and that these differences, combined with differences of bodily constitu- tion at birth, would make great differences of vitality in adult life, just as they do now. In like manner, no attempt to distribute equally the mental benefits of association through free education, free libraries, museums, and schools of art can perfectly suc- ceed. Some teachers are better than others, and their pupils gain an advantage over pupils that are badly in- structed. Some readers, from their earliest days, fall in with good books and good advice, and store their minds with useful knowledge and their imaginations with forms of beauty ; while others have the ill fortune to acquire early a taste for reading that only depraves. Consequently it happens that inequality in physical, mental, and moral power, and varieties of disposition, are always to be discovered in a social population. Even among these differences, however, resemblances may be noticed ; and they may therefore be grouped in classes or kinds. This, of course, means that the mem- bers of a social population, among whom the differences mentioned are found, may themselves be grouped by the student into classes or kinds of socii. That is to say, a social population is always differentiated into classes. We shall call them population classes, or classes of socii. There are three fundamental or primary orders of pop- The Classes of Socii 105 ulation classes. They are, namely : vitality classes, per- sonality classes, and social classes. Other classes, often spoken of in economic and political discussion, are : political classes, industrial classes, and economic classes. Thus, for example, works on history abound in such dis- tinctions as ruling classes and subject classes, aristocratic classes and democratic classes. These are political dis- tinctions. Again, in works on Political Economy and in newspaper and magazine articles, we meet with such dis- tinctions as the employing classes and the working classes. These are industrial distinctions. Yet again, we contin- ually hear of the rich classes and the poor classes. These are economic distinctions. Now all these classes, namely, the political, the industrial, and the economic, are sec- ondary, and not to be confounded with the primary classes of socii. Secondary population classes are highly special products of advanced social evolution. There are many social groups in the world in which there are no political distinctions, no industrial distinctions, and hardly any eco- nomic differences. But there is no community, large or small, in which the vitality, personality, and social classes are not to be found. This is a truth worthy of serious consideration because, through ignoring it, much confu- sion has been introduced into statistical investigation, and into a great many economic and sociological dis- cussions. The Vitality Classes are the simplest and most immedi- ate direct results of association. There are three vitality classes, which may be designated as the high, the me- dium, and the low. The High Vitality Class is composed of those individ- uals who have a high birth rate, a low death rate, and io6 The Elements of Sociology a high degree of bodily vigour and mental power. The birth rate is the number of births yearly in each thou- sand of the population. The death rate is the number of deaths yearly in each thousand of the population. It is obvious that a population which has not only great indi- vidual vigour of body and mind, but also a high degree of reproductive power and a low death rate, so that it in- creases rapidly from generation to generation, has, on the whole, a high degree of vitality. Consequently, that por- tion of a population, in which this high vitality is most conspicuously found, may very properly be called the high vitality class. The Medium Vitality Class is composed of those indi- viduals in the population who have a fair degree of bodily vigour, an unusually high degree of mental vigour — the result of an especially fine development of the brain and nervous system, a rather low death rate, and a low birth rate. These individuals, while their nervous energy is great and their death rate low, have, on account of their low birth rate and only fair bodily vigour, a somewhat lower total vitality than that of the high vitality class. The Lotv Vitality Class is composed of those individuals in the population who, while they may and usually do have a high birth rate, have also an extraordinarily high death rate, a low degree of bodily vigour, and only a low degree of mental power. This class, notwithstanding its high birth rate, is evidently lower in total vitality than either of the other two classes. Distribution. — Of course the student will wish to know where these three classes are found. Do they correspond to any particular geographical sections of the population, or to occupation, or to economic condition .-' The Classes of Socii 107 The first vitality class roughly corresponds to the better sort of farmers — that part of the rural population which is well-to-do, and both owns and tills the land that it oc- cupies. It is this population that chiefl)i maintains the physical vigour and insures the growth of the community. It is this population that is continually sending vigorous, energetic, and brainy men to the towns and cities to en- gage there in business occupations and the learned profes- sions. The high vitality class includes also large numbers of individuals living in towns and cities, and engaged in business or.professional life, or employed as mechanics or even as labourers. But all these together make up only a minority of the high vitality class. The great bulk of the class is found in the rural and land-owning part of the population. The second vitality class corresponds in the same rough way to the business and professional men of the large towns and great cities. These men are continually en- gaged in exhausting brain activity, and, as a rule, their families increase slowly, notwithstanding their low death rate, which is kept down by intelligent attention to sani- tary conditions and to hygienic living. The third vitality class roughly corresponds to the igno- rant and uncleanly part of the slum population of the cities, and to the equally ignorant and uncleanly, shiftless, and thriftless part of the rural population. Every one acquainted with country life knows, within the circle of his own observation, numerous ne'er-do-well families that belong to this class and description. That these three classes are results of association, the student should have no difficulty in understanding if he has mastered the earlier chapters of this book. Associa- io8 The Elements of Sociology tion is the chief condition determining the habits of life of the individuals composing a population, determining the marriages they make, and therefore the sort of inheri- tance that their children start with upon the life struggle, and determining the circumstances of each individual ca- reer. Together these influences, in the long run, deter- mine for each individual his degree of vitality. The Personality Classes, like the vitality classes, are cre- ated by those varied combinations of inheritance and of circumstance that are determined by association. There are three personality classes ; namely, first, the geniuses and men and women of talent ; second, the indi- viduals of normal intellectual and moral power ; and, third, the defective. The Inventive. — The first class is relatively small in numbers. Its distinctive characteristic is inventive power. The great majority of human beings imitate far more than they invent; but here and there appears the individual whose whole life is occupied in devising new combinations of ideas and methods that prove to be of the utmost value to his fellow-men. We have seen that invention includes much more than the creation of new mechanical products, like the steam engine, or the spinning frame, or the elec- tric dynamo. It includes every new and useful device in business methods, in social organization, in law, in diplo- macy, in military strategy, and every new and beautiful product in art, music, and literature. Consequently, not only all mechanical inventors, but all business men, pro- fessional men, and statesmen who have the gift of origi- nality and can devise new and better ways of doing those things in which they are interested, belong to this person- ality class of the men of genius and talent. The Classes of Socii 109 The Imitative. — The class of the normally endowed is by far the largest of the personality classes. It in- cludes all those men and women who are, on the whole, imitative rather than inventive, but who are by no means wholly devoid of the inventive faculty. The important characteristic of this class, however, is mental and moral soundness. While its members are in no way remarkable, they are in no way defective. Their judgment is good; they have no foolish delusions ; they understand and can appreciate the enormous advantage of being directed or guided in the practical affairs of life by the advice of the men of talent and genius ; but they accept this advice in an independent, self-respecting way, and always are ca- pable of making up their own minds upon any question that directly concerns themselves. The Defective. — The third personality class includes all who are in any way defective in mind or body. Among them are not only the insane, the imbecile, and suicidal, but also the inebriate, the deaf and dumb, the blind and crippled. These unfortunates require the kindly help of the other two personality classes. The Social Classes. — The vitality and personality classes are created by the reactions of society upon its individual members in their capacity as individuals. Merely as indi- viduals they become more or less vigorous, more or less intellectual, under the continuing influence of association. The social classes now to be described are created by the reactions of society upon its individual members in their capacity as socii. Association develops their social nature more or less. It more or less fits them to be satisfactory and useful members of the community. Some individuals it moulds into a perfect adaptation to social life ; others it I lo The Elements of Sociology modifies in a less degree. Again, as we have seen, social pressure and that selective process of acquaintanceship, whereby each socius chooses his companions, affect differ- ent natures in quite different ways. On the whole, normally organized individuals react upon social influences in a per- fectly healthy manner, so that they become more and more social. Many defectives react morbidly, until they become wholly unfit for social life, and even antagonistic to it Obviously, these different reactions produce in the popula- tion not only differences of personality, but also differences of sociality or of social nature. The social classes that result are four in number; namely, the social, the non-social, the psuedo-social, and the anti-social. The Social Class is composed of those in whom the social nature is highly developed. Their distinguishing characteristic is a consciousness of kind that is wide in its scope and strong in its intensity. They are sympa- thetic, friendly, helpful, and always interested in endeav- ours to perfect social relations, to develop the methods of cooperation, to add to the happiness of mankind by im- proving the forms of social pleasure, to preserve and defend the great social institutions of the family and the state. To this class the entire population turns for help, inspiration, and leadership, for unselfish loyalty, and wise enterprise. It includes all who in the true sense of the word are philanthropic, all whose self-sacrifice is directed by sound judgment, all true reformers whose zeal is tempered by common sense and sober patience, and all those who give expression to the ideals and aspirations of the community for a larger and better life. It is a gifted and originative portion of this class that constitutes a The Classes of Socii 1 1 1 true natural aristocracy among men, and to which alone that name can be applied when artificial political distinc- tions have been abolished. The Non-social Class is composed of those in whom the social nature is not fully developed. Their disposition is to cling to a narrow and sometimes selfish individualism. They are by no means destitute of sympathy, of compre- hension of others, or of the desire for recognition ; but their consciousness of kind, while normal and sound as far as it goes, is not wide or strong. They pride themselves upon their independence and their habit of minding their own business. They are disinclined to accept favours, and not much inclined to give them. Their preference is to be let alone. This is the primordial social class. From it the other three social classes are directly or indirectly derived. The non-social class contains in germ all social virtue, all anti-social vice and crime. It is simply neutral, waiting to be reached and impelled upwards or downwards by the resistless currents of social life. The Pseudo-social Class is composed of congenital and habitual paupers. Their consciousness of kind is degen- erate. They simulate the qualities of the social and pose as victims of misfortune. In reality, they have not even the virtues of the non-social. They desire only to live as parasites. Among those whom the law classes as paupers, however, there are always some true victims of misfortune who, therefore, do not belong to the pseudo-social class. The Anti-social Class is composed of instinctive and habitual criminals in whom the consciousness of kind is approaching extinction, and who detest society and all its ways. They make no pretence of social virtues and prefer to live by open aggression upon the social. They do not 1 1 2 The Elements of Sociology desire the cooperation of the social in maintaining their rights or interests, and prefer to avenge personally any real or fancied wrongs that they suffer. Among those who are by law classed as criminals, there are many who have not become altogether anti-social and who could be saved from the anti-social class. Crimmal and Pauper Aggregation.- — ^ There is an impor- tant relation between the development of the pauper and the criminal classes and the growth of wealth in the com- munity which must be carefully studied by those who wish to master this subject. It will be remembered that the original aggregation of population occurs where natural sources of food supply are most abundant and productive. Later on, aggregation occurs where the secondary sources of subsistence are found ; that is, in manufacturing towns and commercial cities. Criminal and pauper aggregation occurs where this arti- ficial food supply, this secondary source of subsistence, is accumulated. Great cities always have more criminals and paupers in proportion to their total population than the poorer parts of the commonwealth. This is because, in the centres of wealth, there is not only an abundance of food and clothing upon which the worthless elements of the community may subsist, but also a large number of sympathetic people who are willing to give to all who ask, without taking the trouble to inquire whether they are deserving. The large towns and great cities thus become centres of attraction to criminals and paupers. PARALLEL STUDY Using the "Compendium of the Eleventh Census," construct tables showing the distribution of vitality, personality, and social classes in the United States. Read Warner's " American Charities." -CHAPTER XI The Preeminent Social Class The True Elite. — Among the classes into which a popu- lation is distributed as described in the preceding chapter, there is a great deal of overlapping. This is not true of the classes belonging together in each order. The three vitality classes do not overlap. A man who belongs to one cannot belong to either of the other two. The same is true of the personality classes and of the social classes. But vitality classes do, to some extent, overlap with per- sonality classes and with social classes ; and social classes overlap, to some extent, with vitality and with personality classes. The social class, for example, contains individ- uals of all three vitality classes and of all three personality classes. Try now to imagine that comparatively small part of a population which is found in the social class and, at the same time, in that highest personality class which is com- posed of the men and women who are endowed with genius or talent, and is found also in the first and second vitality classes. We should all agree that this group of individuals is remarkable and of enormous value to the community. Men and women who have health, originality, and that unselfish love of mankind which moves them to devote their efforts to promoting the social welfare, cer- tainly deserve to be recognized as, in the truest sense of the word, superior to their fellow-beings. I "3 114 '^^^ Elements of Sociology This superior section of the social class is the most efficient class in the community. Small as it is in num- bers, it accomplishes the greater part of those undertak- ings which, in their totality, we call progress. It gives to society the new inventions, the improvements in law, in- dustry, art, religion, and morals which make life richer in its achievements and larger in its possibilities. It is this class alone that deserves to be called an elite or an aristocracy. Of such importance, this superior and especially effi- cient portion of the social class should receive somewhat further description than has been devoted to it in the preceding chapter. The Distinguished Few. — It would be interesting if we could know exactly how large is the efficient social class in any given population. Unfortunately, no complete statistics are available, though it would be by no means impossible to obtain them with a sufficient expenditure of time and money. We have, however, some indications, and they show that the efficient social class is every- where a very small one in proportion to the total popu- lation. The world agrees to regard as distinguished those men and women who are of such intellectual ability and of such developed social nature that they succeed in making great contributions to human well-being. But the number of those who, by general consent, are distinguished, is surprisingly small. An Englishman of science. Sir Francis Galton, who investigated this subject with great thorough- ness by applying careful critical tests, found that in the year 1868 there were in the British Isles 1250 well-known men, 850 of whom were over fifty years of age. Of the The Preeminent Social Class 1 1 5 latter, 500 could be called eminent. This was 250 in each million of that part of the population which was over fifty years of age, and this number Galton regards as an ample estimate of the usual proportion of distinguished men in Great Britain. Didot's " Nouvelle Biographie Gen^rale " contains about 100,000 separate articles, corresponding to as many names deemed worthy of biographical immortality. The list goes back to the days of Pericles of Greece. From the time of Pericles until the publication of the "Biographie" — it appeared 1850-1870 — about 45,000,000,000 of men had lived on this planet. Accordingly, the proportion of dis- tinguished men for the entire twenty-two centuries had been one in 450,000 of the world's population. This num- ber, however, as given in the Didot collection, includes many kings and princes who would never have been dis- tinguished but for the mere accident of hereditary posi- tion. It is, therefore, • probably no exaggeration to say that nature and society produce about one genuinely distinguished man or woman for every half a million who live and die in obscurity. In these startling figures there is a practical lesson of the greatest importance. In nothing whatever can a nation so ill afford to be wasteful as in her men and women who combine genius with the highly developed social nature. What, then, shall we say of those govern- ments that in times past have deliberately destroyed such elements of the population by death, imprisonment, and other forms of persecution, on account of differences in religious or political belief. No nation in the world has thus squandered its most precious riches as recklessly and ruthlessly as Spain, whose long-continued Inquisition re- 1 16 The Elements of Sociology ■ duced her to an intellectual poverty and moral degradation unparalleled in human history. That the eiificient social class should be thus small in numbers is not remarkable when one stops to consider how much is necessary in the way of preliminary condi- tions to its existence. Not only must the individuals who belong to this class have a high degree of intellectual power, which culminates in inventive originality, but they must also have a rela- tively enormous amount of knowledge; for, the reader must remember, we are including in this preeminent social class only those whose abilities are of the socially and morally useful sort. The man whose genius benefits no one but himself has no place in this list. But that a man may do great things for his fellow-beings, he must under- stand their wants, their joys and sorrows, their minds, their moral natures. He must understand them, not only in individual cases, but in so many cases that his knowledge, like Shakespeare's comprehension of human nature, is universal in its qualities. He must know the peculiarities of races and nationalities, and the conditions under which each has been developed. Moreover, he must know his- tory at least to the extent of being familiar with all that has been accomplished in his own particular iield of creative ability. The inventor who spends his time in reinventing the devices that have long since found their way into use may, indeed, have the spark of genius; but, so far as his life is concerned, it has been enkindled to no purpose. Services of the Preeminent. — What, in some further de- tail, are the services that the preeminent social class renders to the community .' Let us briefly recount them. The Preeminent Social Class wj The preeminent social class sets most of the examples and standards for mankind. As a general thing, human beings do not imitate those whom they regard as inferior to themselves. They rather look up to those who, to their minds, are superior in intellect, moral character, and ex- ecutive ability. Consequently, it is the preeminent social class that makes most of the unwritten rules of conduct, manners, and fashion. There are noteworthy exceptions. It sometimes happens that a thoroughly bad man or woman, or a mere freak or crank, starts a manner or a fashion that for a time is in great vogue. But in the long run the unwritten laws of society are made by the intellect- ual, the moral, and the social elements of the population. The preeminent social class does most of the original thinking for society. Science and philosophy, political economy and statesmanship, have thousands of devotees who are in no way distinguished; and now and then an important truth is discovered or set forth in clearer light by some humble student whose intellectual grasp is not remarkable. But, if we take into consideration the entire history of the intellectual life of the human race, we clearly see that most great truths have been discovered by great men, and that their application to human well- being, in every sphere of practical activity, has been made by men of only a lesser degree of intellectual power. The preeminent social class does most of the leading, directing, and organizing in human society. The average man has little or no power to combine the efforts of scores or hun- dreds of other men so that they shall work together with the utmost efficiency and success. The gift of ability to organize and to direct is really a very rare one ; and per- haps there are actually fewer individuals in the world who Ii8 The Elements of Sociology have this gift in a supreme degree than there are of those who can combine the forms of matter in new mechanical inventions. It is harder to put humanity together in new combinations that have the qualities of a smoothly run- ning machine, than to put pieces of matter together in machines of a simpler kind. Finally, the preeminent social class contributes most of the higher forms of beauty and the higher forms of happi- ness to mankind. It is to this class, as has already been said, that we owe poetry, art, and music. It is to this class also that we owe those refinements of courtesy and those gracious forms of social intercourse that make smooth the rough places of life, and add to the spon- taneous social pleasures, to which all can contribute, those touches of grace and beauty that appeal to our higher natures, and enable us to avoid the infliction of annoy- ances that spring from awkwardness, inconsiderateness, and the inability to put one's self in another's place. PARALLEL STUDY From the " Politics " prepare an analysis of Aristotle's conception of aristocracy. Read Galton's " Hereditary Genius," Chapters 1 and II, and William James's essay, "The Will to Believe": "Great Men and their Environment." CHAPTER XII The Social Mind : Modes of Like-mindedness Nature of the Social Mind. — Among the phrases most commonly met with in discussions of social interests are the terms "the moral sense of the community," "public opinion," and "the public will." Such terms seem to imply the existence of a mind or consciousness in society which is to be distinguished from the mind of an indi- vidual. Is there in reality any such social mind, or are these terms mere figures of speech ? Is society a great being, larger, more powerful, and more intelligent than any of its individual members, or do we merely personify it in a rhetorical sense, as we personify the sun when we apply to it the pronoun " he," or the ship when we speak of it as " she " ? There is no reason to suppose that society is a great being which is conscious of itself through some mysterious process of thinking, separate and distinct from the thinking that goes on in the brains of individual men. At any rate, there is no possible way yet known to man of proving that there is any such supreme social consciousness. Nevertheless, there is a group of facts of great interest to the sociologist and to the man of affairs for which the name "the social mind" can, with entire propriety and with great convenience, be used. In preceding chapters we have shown that the most essential fact in society is "9 120 The Elements of Sociology like-mindedness, meaning by this term a close resemblance between the ideas, emotions, and preferences of any given individual and those of other individuals who live in the same social group with him. It has been shown also that such like-minded individuals usually discover their mental and moral resemblances, think about them, take pleasure in them, and turn them to good account in many useful ways. When, then, two or more individuals at the same mo- ment are receiving like sensations, perceiving the same relations, experiencing the same kind of emotion, thinking the same thoughts, arriving in their judgments at the same conclusion, — a state of facts exists in the population which evidently must be classed among facts of mind, and yet must be distinguished from the mental activity of an in- dividual who, absolutely alone, completely cut off from communication with his fellow-men, thinks solely about himself and his immediate material surroundings. In the one case there exists a concert of the emotions and thoughts of two or more individuals ; in the other case, the thought of the individual is peculiar to himself and his isolated condition. To the group of facts that may be described as the simultaneous like-mental-activity of two or more individu- als in communication with one another, or as a concert of the emotion, thought, and will of two or more communi- cating individuals, we give the name, the social mind. This name, accordingly, should be regarded as meaning just this group of facts and nothing more. It does not mean that there is any other consciousness than that of individual minds. It does mean that individual minds act simultaneously in like ways and continually influence one The Social Mind: Modes of Like-mindedness 121 another; and that certain mental products result from such combined mental action which could not result from the thinking of an individual who had no communication with fellow-beings. Formation of the Social Mind. — The social mind, or the simultaneous like-action of the minds of like socii, may be observed in simple forms, in forms that are somewhat complex, and yet again in forms that are complex in a high degree. To make the explanation of these various forms as clear as possible, we will use the word "integration," to denote the combination of the mental activity of two or more individuals in one common mental activity, or in pro- ducing a common product of their combined thought. We shall then speak of the integration of the mental activity of two or more individuals as of different degrees and stages. In its Simplest Form., the social mind is nothing more or less than that simultaneous like-responsiveness of like minds to the same stimulus which was described in Chapter V. When two or more individuals receive similar sensa- tions, or perceive the same object or event and react upon it in like ways, there is an agreement or concert of their mental processes than which no simpler mode of the social mind is known. This is the first stage of the integration of the mental processes of many individuals. Relatively simple as it is, however, it is often an im- portant, or indeed a very terrible, thing for the community. Perhaps the most familiar example that can be called to mind is the spontaneous applause of an audience when a speaker unexpectedly touches the emotions of his hearers. The most familiar example of the terrible form which this integration of feeling and belief may assume is a panic in 132 The Elements of Sociology which all individuals, sharing the same terror, in the same manner lose their senses and act with the same madness. The Reciprocal Consciousness of Kind. — A second stage in the integration of the like feelings and beliefs of different individuals appears with the emergence of a reciprocal con- sciousness of kind. By a reciprocal consciousness of kind is meant a consciousness of kind that exists at the same mo- ment in each of the resembling individuals. Obviously, it may happen that one of two or more resembling individuals becomes aware of the resemblance before any other person does. Such a consciousness of kind, limited to the thought of a single individual, is not a mode of the social mind. But when each of the resembling individuals becomes aware of the resemblance, the consciousness of kind is reciprocal; and this is such an agreement or concert of the ideas and feelings of two or more individuals as can properly be called a mode of the social mind. And this mode is obviously a more complicated one than the mere simultaneous like-responsiveness to the same stimulus, because, in combination with such responsiveness, it includes a large number of other elements of perception, thought, and emotion. Emblem and Shibboleth. — A third stage of the integra- tion of the like feelings and beliefs of different individuals is produced by a combination of the simultaneous like-re- sponsiveness to the same stimulus, and of the reciprocal consciousness of kind, with a fixing of the attention of each individual upon some object, word, phrase, or cry. Such an object or word must, however, be a symbol or sign, calling to mind a group of facts in which the mind is in- terested. The national flag, for example, is a symbol that calls to mind all the ideas and emotions of patriot- The Social Mind: Modes of Like-mindedness 123 ism. When, at the same moment, the attention of many individuals is arrested by this symbol, as it is when the flag is unfurled on some noteworthy occasion, it not only serves as a stimulus to which the ideas, emotions, and conduct of the men who behold it respond in like ways, and as a means of awakening their consciousness of kind as they think of their common country, their common history, and their common hopes for the future, but it also starts yet other modes of mental activity which greatly complicate those already mentioned. The process is this : the reciprocal consciousness of kind, acting upon common possessions, interests, and ideas, converts their images, symbols, and names into social em- blems and shibboleths. Examples of emblems and shib- boleths are armorial bearings, the flags and banners of states, and such words or phrases as "family," "home," "class," "altars," "the gods," "the fathers," "country," "native land," "the king," "the army," " the party," "our cause," "the right," "liberty," and "fraternity." Every- body knows how any one of these words may, in a moment of general excitement, arouse a crowd to furious enthu- siasm and even to frenzy. What is the mysterious power of a mere phrase, or of a mere piece of tinsel or coloured silk, thus to awaken the passions of thousands of human beings .' Such objects and names are not converted into emblems and shibboleths, and do not acquire their power over the human mind, merely by meaning the same things to many individuals, or even by being thought of by many individu- als at the same moment. They become emblems and shib- boleths only when each individual is conscious that, at a given moment, they mean to his associates what they mean 124 ^'^^^ Elements of Sociology to him, and arouse in them the same emotions that they arouse in him. They are emblems and shibboleths only when they are products of a reciprocal consciousness of kind. As such products, however, they powerfully react upon the consciousness of kind itself. The emblem or shibbo- leth not only calls the attention of an individual who sees or hears it to the object or fact that it symbolizes, and awakens in him certain feelings ; it also fixes his attention upon the feelings that it arouses, and the conduct that it incites in others. The emotions and conduct of others, of which he is thus made aware, at once begin to act upon himself as an influence that merges with the original effect of the emblem or shibboleth. It intensifies or dimin- ishes the initial power of the symbol over his mind, and quickens or restrains his responsive action. The Social Memory. — A fourth stage in the integration of the like feelings and beliefs of different individuals is produced by a combination of the three stages already described with memories and records of the past. The whole existing mass of knowledge in civilized communities is such a mode of the social mind. So great over us is the power of symbolism that, doubtless, many of us think of knowledge as contained in books. Actually, nothing is contained in books but the symbols of knowledge. The knowledge itself exists only in human minds. The sym- bols merely enable us to discover what has been in minds other than our own. Ptiblic Opinion. — The highest forms of the social mind are those which are produced by the combination of the rational thinking of one mind with that of another. Where not only traditional beliefs and active sympathies, but also The Social Mind : Modes of Like-mindedness 125 critical discrimination and philosophical judgments are brought together in a common product, the result is the highest creation of the human mind. No one individual, by his unaided thinking, could establish, in all its details, the complete scientific explanation of any process in nat- ure, or work out a complete scheme of public policy for the state. These things are achieved only through the cooperation of many minds. When critical, rational thought is combined with the im- pressions and beliefs of the multitude, we call the product public opinion. Modes of the Social Mind. — These various stages of the integration of the social mind fall naturally into three large groups, which will be made the subject of further explana- tion in the three following chapters. The simultaneous responsiveness to like stimuli, the re- ciprocal consciousness of kind, and the integration of emo- tion and belief by means of symbols, together make up a like-mindedness that may be called, from its predominant element, sympathetic like-mindedness. Sympathetic like- mindedness, if uncontrolled by the reflective processes, commonly results in impulsive social action. The next chapter, therefore, will deal with sympathetic like-minded- ness and with some of the facts and laws of impulsive social action. The effect of memory and habit is to create a like- mindedness that is formal and conventional. When men are subjected to the influence of the same beliefs, and con- form, year after year and generation after generation, to an inherited usage, custom, or discipline, they acquire a rigid, formal, or conventional likeness of mind and char- acter. This mode of the social mind may, therefore, be 126 The Elements of Sociology called I formal like-mindedness ; and one of the subjects treated under this head is the body of traditions that contain the great mass of human belief and precept. The agreement of thought that is produced by rational reflection, and through the processes of discussion and the creation of public opinion, and all those public decisions that result from reflection and discussion, may together be called National like-mindedness. Rational like-minded- ness is the highest mode of the social mind. The supreme manifestation of rational like-mindedness is in an ethical consciousness of society which combines critical moral judgments with sympathetic emotions in a persistent eth- ical purpose. We shall have more to say on this subject in the chapter on Democracy. Social Force and Control. — In each of these modes, the social mind, like the individual mind, must be regarded by the scientific investigator from two points of view. Merely as facts of consciousness, sensation, emotion, and thought, whether existing at a given moment in one individual mind or in many minds, cannot be thought of or argued about in terms of our physical conceptions of energy or force. Associated with these facts of consciousness, how- ever, are, as we know, facts of nervous activity and mus- cular movement. Therefore, it is legitimate to speak of mental energy or of the force of an individual mind, mean- ing thereby the transformations of energy and the physi- cal changes in the external world that are brought about through those activities of the nervous mechanism that are associated with sensations, emotions, and thoughts. In this sense the mind is a force ; and the' social mind, in all its phases or modes, is a social force, by which is meant a force that originates in society or in social con- The Social Mind: Modes of Like-niindedness 127 ditions and reacts upon society or upon its individual members. In any stage of its development, the social mind, whether it be merely the simultaneous like-responsiveness of two or more individuals to the same stimulus, whether it be a reciprocal consciousness of kind, or a rational public opin- ion, if it is more than mere reflection and discharges itself in action, is a power superior to any individual force. The social mind in its active or energetic manifestation is often spoken of as the social or public will. The active manifestation of the social mind may or may not be consciously intended. On the one hand, individuals may, without any plan or intent in the matter, simultane- ously act in the same ways, and such action may be a com- pelling social force of tremendous power. On the other hand, the display of energy may be deliberately planned or intended. In other words, a social force may be an intended social force. An intended social force is always a reciprocal con- sciousness of kind. An intent or purpose, simultaneously held by two or more individuals, is a mode of resemblance. A purpose that many individuals simultaneously form be- comes a common purpose when each individual becomes aware of its existence in all of his associates, and not otherwise. This discovery by each is obviously a recip- rocal consciousness of kind. In the three following chapters, the social mind will be observed from both points of view. It will be described as a state of consciousness and also as a form of energy — a social force or control. Having regard to these two aspects of the social mind, the aspect of consciousness and the aspect of activity, we 128 Tlie Elements of Sociology may now conclude this chapter with a definition, as fol- lows : The social mind is that sympathy and cojicurrent intelli- gence of the like-minded which results in common purposes and concerted acts. PARALLEL STUDY. Read Lewes's " Problems of Life and Mind " : " The Study of Psy- chology," Chapter IX ; or Vincent, '' The Social IVIind and Education," Chapter I ; or Novicow, " Conscience at Volont^ Sociale." CHAPTER XIII Sympathetic Like-mindedness and Impulsive Social Action Origins of Impulsive Action. — We have seen that the simplest combination of the feelings and ideas of a num- \ ber of individuals is that which occurs sympathetically and imitatively without the intervention of any process \ of critical thinking. The panic of a terrified crowd was mentioned as one of the lamentable forms that sympa- thetic mental activity may assume. That the like-mindedness which is purely sympathetic, imitative, or emotional should be impulsive and hasty in action, is inevitable. The student will understand the subject clearly if he is acquainted with the simpler pro- cesses of nerve and brain reaction. A sensation, for ex- ample, that of a prick at the tip of the finger, is carried to the spinal cord by afferent nerves. From the spinal cord comes back along efferent nerves a reflex which contracts the muscles of arm and hand in a hasty motion to with- draw from the object that inflicted pain. This action takes place without any thought process or critical reasoning. At least, such is usually the fact. However, it may hap- pen that with the sensation of pain there is also in the mind a perception of some dangerous object that would be encountered if the hand were suddenly thrown back. In K 129 130 The Elements of Sociology this case, the mind perhaps is able for an instant to con- trol the impulse to snatch away the hand, and to direct it in a careful movement which results both in withdrawing from the object that has caused the hurt and, at the same time, in avoiding one that might inflict yet greater injury if the hand were suddenly thrown against it. The action last described is complicated because a part of the nervous current that passes through the afferent nerves towards the spinal cord is switched off into the thought centres of the brain ; and the efferent nerves, therefore, do not instantly bring back the impulse to snatch the hand away. Instead, there is an instant of hesitation while deliberation is going on in the brain ; and not until that process is completed does the hand receive its command to act. From this elementary account of our nervous reactions — an account so brief that it is by no means a complete statement of the matter — we may derive an important suggestion to take with us into our consideration of the social mind and social activity. All true thinking, all careful looking over the ground to be sure that we know what we are about before we act, involves a certain re- straint upon our mechanical tendency to respond instantly to stimulus. It involves the thoughtful delay that is implied in our word "deliberation." Another thing, too, is implied. All action that takes into account the various possibilities of a situation is nec- essarily deliberate. A good chess player does not move his piece until he has thought out all the possible moves that he can make, and has decided which one is, all things considered, the best. A poor player sees, at the most, only two or three of the possible moves ; and seeing sq Sympathy and Impulsive Social Actioii 131 r little to think about, he moves much sooner than a superior antagonist. These conditions are not changed when men act to- gether in large numbers. On the contrary, if they have natures that are sensitive to every impression that is made upon their senses, if they are sympathetic and quick to imitate, if they have but little power of patient deliber- ation — they are quick to act, and their action is impul- sive, emotional, lacking in coolness of judgment, and perhaps disastrous to themselves and others. Especially is this true if they are by nature or circum- stance subject to what psychologists call suggestion. A person is subject to suggestion if he responds uncon- sciously to an idea, as we all respond automatically in re- flex action to a sensation. The normal tendency of an idea, as of a sensation, is towards motor discharge. To see the name of an appetizing dish is to have an impulse to \ order it. To think of picking up a novel from the table is to have an impulse to reach forth the hand for the book. \ An idea, then, is not only a state of consciousness, it is also a hint to do something — it is a suggestion. The tendency to act is held in check only by counteracting ideas. If no counteracting ideas come into the mind, or if, when they come, they receive no attention, the idea al- ready there has everything its own way. The suggestion is unconsciously followed. Complete inability to resist suggestion is, however, an abnormal state of the brain. It is known as the hypnotic trance. The critical faculty of the hypnotized patient is absolutely suspended; and he converts suggestions into acts with the unhesitating pre- cision of a machine. To give attention to counteracting ideas is to stop and 132 The Elements of Sociology I think, it is to deliberate, it is to become critical. Conse- quently, critical minds are not easily carried away by sug- gestion. They may be, however, if the suggestion is so unobtru- sive as not to awaken suspicion or opposition. For ex- ample, if a sharpened lead pencil is quietly placed on the desk near a person who is earnestly talking, the chances are that, without the slightest deliberation, he will pick up the pencil and begin marking, or drawing, or perhaps writing fragmentary memoranda, on the pad of paper be- fore him. In an even more subtle way are thoughts and courses of action often suggested to men in crowds. A skilful pub- lic speaker can work a crowd to a great pitch of excite- ment by artfully insinuating the truth of that which he wishes them to believe, or the wisdom of that which he wishes them to do, while apparently directing his argument upon some quite different question. Extent of Impulsive Action. — A large part of all the social action in which many individuals take a concerted part is impulsive rather than deliberate ; and therefore many of the dramatic events of history have been impulsive social actions. If the student will take pains to recall some of the most interesting political, judicial, and industrial events that have occurred during his lifetime, he will probably be surprised to discover how often great numbers of men, carried away by the excitement and enthusiasm of the moment, have engaged in proceedings that their reason might or might not afterwards approve, but in which it certainly played very little part at the moment. Some- times these events are violent in character, taking the Sympathy and Impulsive Social Action 133 form of riots, lynchings, and turbulent conduct in connec- tion with strikes or lockouts. Sometimes they are entirely peaceful and lawful, but none the less hasty and incon- siderate — -as when a legislative body, moved by a wave of popular feeling, enacts a law without deliberation, simply assuming that the popular belief or demand is to be accepted at its face value without opposition or criticism. Sometimes an entire nation is thus wrought up to impul- sive action which carries it onward to frightful disaster. One of the most noteworthy examples in all history was that of the flaming forth of war passion in France in 1870, when, accepting beliefs that had no foundation in fact, and feeling a confidence in itself which events proved to have been entirely without justification, the French army plunged into a struggle that speedily ended in the over- throw of the Napoleonic Empire. Conditions of Impulsive Action. — The rapid development of sympathetic like-mindedness and resulting impulsive social action is by no means an accidental thing. Like everything else in nature and life, it depends upon the combination of factors that can be analyzed and described ; and it conforms to laws that, when we have learned more about them, we shall probably find are quite as absolute as are those laws of physical phenomena that are studied by the chemist and the physiologist. Physical Conditions of geography and climate exert an important effect in predisposing social populations to emo- tional and impulsive action, or in restraining them from it. It has long been observed that the southern peoples of the Northern Hemisphere are more excitable and im- pulsive in both individual and social activity than are the people of colder northern climes. To what extent this is i 134 "^^^ Elements of Sociology due to temperature merely, we do not yet know. It is, however, certain that excessive temperature is a real factor in emotional conduct. This is proven in very many ways, among others by the increasing number of crimes of violence with the transition from early spring to summer in countries like the United States, England, France, and Germany ; by the increase, at the same period of the year, of nervous disorders ; and by the greater difficulty that the managers of prisons, jails, insane asylums, and other places where people are restrained of liberty, have in maintaining the usual routine of discipline whenever a sudden rise of temperature occurs. Many years ago, a profound English thinker, Henry Thomas Buckle, in his " Introduction to the History of Civilization in England," called attention to the effect of certain aspects of nature in producing types of character and temperament, and moods of feeling which, it is well known, predispose a population to emotional social conduct. In lands where earthquakes, famines, and pestilences are most frequent, the habitual state of fear represses a cool, critical, intellectual activity, and stimulates imagination and emotion. These are the states of mind that most powerfully contribute to sympathetic like-mindedness and impulsive social action. Mental Conditions, themselves, however, are the im- mediate causes of the limitation of like-mindedness to its sympathetic form and of consequent hasty action. Of all these conditions, fear and ignorance are the most potent. . In the nature of things, an ignorant population can act deliberately, that is with rational consideration, only to a { very slight extent. Deliberation must have material to work upon. Reason is as incapable of arriving at sound Sympathy and hnpulsive Social Action 135 conclusions, unless it has stores of accurate knowledge to think about, as the Israelites in Egypt were to make their bricks without straw. An ignorant population, therefore, is at the mercy of its sensations, passions, superstitions, and fears. It can easily be led to believe that danger threatens when no danger exists, and that salvation depends upon some instant course of action that complete knowledge would show to be cruel and disastrous. Above all, however, is the power of fear, that state of mind which puts in the background such reason as a man may have, and delivers him over to the unrestrained play of his animal instincts and reflex actions. Thus it is that in panics and routs, the very delirium of social madness is reached. The most civilized of nations have not yet brought themselves completely under the discipline that masters fear, as was frightfully demonstrated in the appalling scenes that attended the burning of the Bazar de Charity in Paris, and the sinking of the transatlantic steamer La Bourgogne in 1898. The Crowd. — Neither external physical conditions nor | states of the individual mind, however, would produce the full effects so often witnessed in impulsive social action if there were not added to the combination a strictly social condition also; namely, the massing of men in crowds.' It is the crowd that reveals possibilities of unreason, frightful fear, fury, and insatiable cruelty from which even ignorant and superstitious individuals, in their calmer moments, would shrink back appalled. Much valuable study of the psychology of crowds has been made in recent years by able psychologists and sociolo- gists. The crowd curiously resembles the undeveloped \ mind of the child and of the savage. Naturally, men in 1 136 The Elements of Sociology crowds are subject to a swift contagion of feeling that would be impossible were they dispersed and able to com- municate only slowly and with difficulty. For the same reason, they are extremely sensitive to suggestion and to unnoticed influences. In crowds men are even more likely to think in terms of symbolic images, catch words, and shibboleths than when by themselves. This, of course, is because others are continually calling their attention to symbols, and with emotional fervour repeating the fetichistic phrases. With the critical faculty in abey- ance, men in crowds are in a state of mind to be easily deceived, to believe any wild rumour that is started, and even to become subject to hallucination. The crowd is devoid of the sense of responsibility because, when lost in the mass, the individual loses his own feeling of re- sponsibility and acquires a sense of invincible power, and so gives way to impulses which, if he were alone, he would control. Like the savage and the child, the crowd is intolerant of anything interposed between its desires and their realization ; and it always manifests a tendency to carry suggested ideas immediately into action. Crowds, therefore, are mobile, and with changing excitants, they are generous, heroic, or pusillanimous. Laws of Impulsive Action. — Such are some of the condi- tions favourable to sympathetic and impulsive social action. What, now, are the laws of such action .'' There are three of these laws that may be regarded as demonstrated. Law of Origin. — The first is the law of origin. Before impulsive social action begins, there is a certain amount of preliminary communication whereby sympathetic like- mindedness is developed. A certain situation exists Sympathy and Impidsive Social Action 137 which interests a number of individuals. The sociologi- cal problem is, Will these individuals become more and more like-minded with reference to this situation ? Will it affect them in the same way to such an extent that they will presently hold the same belief in regard to its causes, and find themselves disposed to enter upon the same course of action ? In this preliminary stage of communication, talk on the subject becomes excited, men say irresponsible and foolish things. They become more terrified, more angry, or more sentimental, as the case may be, and more and more liable to give way to an imitative following of the first example of overt action that may be set. At what point, then, in this now like-minded population, does the transition from talk to action begin .' The answer to this question is the law of the origin of impulsive action, as follows : Impulsive social action is conifnenced by those elements of the population that are least self-controlled. This law is demonstrated in two ways ; namely, psycho- logically and historically. Psychologically, the normal nervous process is one that results in action, as has been shown at the beginning of this chapter. Stimulus, whether it be sensation or idea, if left to itself, produces reflex action or conscious muscular movement. Action is inhibited, that is, restrained or prevented, only by the higher and more complicated brain centres. The power of inhibition is that which, in common phrase, we call self-control. In the crowd are gathered individuals who differ in their inhibitory control of the nervous processes — of the tendency to carry into action the plan suggested by the talk that is overheard. Those who have the greater power of self-control resist this tendency longer. In other 138 The Elements of Sociology words, those who have least of such power are the first to put the suggestion into action. The historical proof of this law is derived from the long chronicle of crazes, revolutions, riots, and massacres that have made human history tragic. There is no better exercise for the student of Sociology than that of work- ing out for himself the inductive proof of this law of the origin of impulsive social action. In the suggestions for Parallel Study, at the end of this chapter, some of the chief historical examples of impulsive social action are named. The student should study these examples with the purpose of discovering just how talk and agitation gave place to violence. He will discover that in all the instances mentioned, violence began at the hands of men of very imperfect mental and moral development, and usually criminal or qiiasi-cxvtmxidX. Law of Extent and Inteftsity. — The second law of impulsive social action is that of its extent and intensity. This law is deduced from the character of the action under consideration. It is sympathetic and imitative. This means that each individual who becomes subject to the wave of feeling and impulse that is moving through the crowd or community is himself, in turn, an example and transmitter of impulse to others. If, then, starting from one individual, the suggestion or impulse is com- municated by him to a second, there are immediately two centres of influence. If each of these again communicates the impulse to another individual not yet reached, there are immediately four centres of influence. If each of these communicates it to another, there are immediately eight centres of influence. Thus the impulse extends in a geometrical progression. Sympathy and Impulsive Social Action 139 In the same progression also it intensifies. The indi- vidual who started the movement was, at the outset, sub- ject only to the original stimulus acting upon his own mind. When, however, he has communicated it, the emotional excitement of a second mind reacts upon the first. When they, in turn, have communicated it to two more, the emotional reaction of three minds has begun to act upon each of the four. When those four, in turn, have communicated it to eight, the emotional excitement of seven has begun to react upon each of the eight, and so on indefinitely. Thus the law of the extent and intensity of impulsive social action is as follows : Impulsive social action tends to extend and to intensify in a geometrical progression. Law of Restraint. — The third law of impulsive social action is the law of restraint. The only restraint that can hold in check the tendency to impulsive social action is deliberation — critical, com- prehensive thinking. Deliberation, however, must have become a habit of mind in order to exercise much restrain- ing influence upon social impulse. It becomes a habit of mind only in connection with its employment in practical activity; and this happens when the practical activities of life are so complex that it is impossible to achieve success by those direct, apparently obvious, but really futile means which suggest themselves to a bright but child-like mind. To the bird that has flown into a room, the obvious way to get out seems to be by vainly beat- ing its wings against the window-pane. Only by accident does it discover that by the indirect method of flying down to the space below the raised sash it can gain the 140 The Elements of Sociology desired freedom. This lesson, that many of the most vital achievements in life depend upon indirect means is, all things considered, the most important lesson of human experience. The discovery of indirect means is possible only through reason and deliberation. Little by little, as such discoveries are made and added to human experience, and as the habit of obtaining results by indirect means is acquired, there is a stimulating reaction upon the develop- ment of reason itself, and a slow growth of the habit of deliberation. And this habit, as has been said, is the only means that can be relied upon to hold impulsive social tendencies in check. The law, then, of restraint of im- pulsive social action is : Impulsive social action varies inversely with the habit of attaining ends by indirect and complex means. PARALLEL STUDY Read Sidis's "Psychology of Suggestion." Study the rise and con- duct of the Crusades, giving special attention to the expeditions led by Peter the Hermit, Walter the Penniless, and Gottschalk, and to the Crusade of the Children. Analyze the events of the Reign of Terror in the French Revolution, and those of the reign of the Commune of Paris in 1871. Study the character of the Draft Riots in New York in 1863, of the Pittsbvu-g Riot of 1877, and of the Armenian Massacres of 1894-5-6. CHAPTER XIV Formal Like-mindedness : Tradition and Conformity Belief the Substance of Tradition. — Among the most obvious modes of concurrent mental activity in human societies are those which consist in the simultaneous oc- cupation of the minds of many individuals with certain beliefs, precepts, maxims, and facts of knowledge or sup- posed knowledge that have been handed down by preced- ing generations to the present; and, in connection with a mere occupation of the mind with these things, a simul- taneous like-responsiveness to them, in the form of a daily obedience to the inherited precepts or rules. This great body of inherited ideas and precepts is called tradition. Tradition is composed in varying degrees of elements that must be distinguished from one another if we wish to have any clear conception of the part that tradition plays in human affairs. In the foregoing chapters, the word "belief" has fre- quently appeared. Belief is the largest element in tradi- tion. It is, therefore, necessary to inquire just what belief is, and whether it differs from such other intellect- ual products as knowledge. Nature of Belief. — Many individuals who are by no means unintelligent fail to make any distinction between belief and knowledge. There is, however, a difference that is very real, and which is not infrequently of vital 141 142 The Elements of Sociology consequence in the practical affairs of human life. To those who are unfamiliar with the results of modern in- vestigations in Psychology, it may be a strange discovery to learn that belief is not, to any important extent, a prod- uct of critical thinking, or of the process of arriving at rational judgments, but is rather a form of emotion. Be- lief is so far separated from knowledge that not infre- quently the most positive beliefs are affirmations of alleged truths which, upon investigation, prove to have absolutely no foundation in fact. For example, a man may vehemently believe that his political party will tri- umph in the next election, when, if he were to look over the field, he might easily discover that the drift of events is such as to make his belief in reality absurd. Knowledge, on the other hand, is truth that cannot be overthrown by any process of testing or criticising. If, for example, an ignorant man should say to the chemist, " I do not believe your assertion that water can be re- solved into two gases, or that by putting two gases to- gether in certain quantities you can produce water ; your assertion in this matter is no better than that of the man who believes that his party will win in the next election ; " the chemist has only to reply, " Experiment for yourself then. Take a certain quantity of water and deal with it according to my directions, and see what result you get ; " and this reply the man who possesses scientific knowledge can make to any objector. He can always say, "This proposition is true not merely because I believe it, or be- cause any other man believes it ; it is true because any man who disbelieves it can, if he will, subject it to any sort of test or criticism without being able to overthrow it." Formal Like-mindedness : Tradition and Cottformity 143 The Origins of Belief. — Why, then, is it that all of us have minds stocked with beliefs instead of stored with verified knowledge ? Why is it that the great body of traditions is, as has been said, composed largely of beliefs handed down from the past and cherished with reverent regard ? What, in short, is the cause of belief ? The simplest answer to this question is found in the familiar experience that when we have once done a thing, we feel that we can do it again ; that when we have done many things, we acquire from our success a feeling of self- assurance, a sense of power, which takes the form of a conviction that we could do many things that we have not yet attempted. At first sight, this account of the matter does not seem to have a close connection with two large classes of beliefs that all men indulge in ; namely, first, beliefs that certain events which must be produced by others or by imper- sonal nature rather than by ourselves will, as a matter of fact, occur; and, second, beliefs that events which we know were not produced by ourselves did in fact occur at some time in the past. Nevertheless, the connection is a real one ; and it is because of our own power to do things, that we believe that events which we are interested in will happen, or that alleged events in the past which also we are interested in did happen. The connection is this : When we attempt or expect to do anything, we are in a state of emotional excitement. In most instances we do or expect to do because we de- sire or ardently wish to accomplish a certain thing. The desire is the stimulus that sets our motor apparatus in operation. If, then, we have so often succeeded in achiev- ing the hoped-for purpose that we have acquired confi- 144 The Elements of Sociology dence in our power to achieve, we have, at the same time, without being aware that we were doing so, established a close connection between ardent hope and the expectation of reaUzing hope. That is to say, if, in nine cases out of ten, in the things that we ourselves hope for and strive for, the hope actually is realized, there grows up in our nervous organization a close connection between hope, or desire, and the confident expectation that hope will be realized. Therefore, in consequence of this habit of mind, it happens that any future event which we strongly de- sire we also expect, unless the critical habit of asking sceptical questions, and trying to find out what actual facts would justify our expectation, steps in to interrupt the natural process of belief-formation. One further stage in this natural process has still to be mentioned. Some of our beliefs are convictions that our ideas of events or things are true pictures of them, and that certain theories or explanations are true accounts of the facts, although we have not actually subjected them to any test. Are these beliefs also closely associated with our confidence in our own powers ? This association also is real, and comes about as follows: In all our attempts to do things, we are not only actuated by the strong desire which is easily converted into an ex- pectation of success, but also we are guided by our mental picture of the thing to be achieved, and by that theory of what the thing is, and of the best way to attack it, or to deal with it, which we provisionally accept as a plan of operation. Now, similar to the connection between success and expectation, is a connection between success and antece- dent ideas. If we have so often succeeded hitherto in our Formal Like-mindedness : Tradition and Conformity 145 attempts to do things that we now confidently expect to succeed in future undertakings, it is certain that, in a ma- jority of instances, our ideas of the thing to be achieved and our theories of the best way of achieving have, on the whole, been sound. Consequently, there is established in our minds an intimate association between any idea or theory that we vividly conceive, and which takes strong possession of our minds, and the expectation that this idea or theory will turn out to be true. We acquire the same self-assured confidence in our own ideas that we have in our own power to achieve success. In the absence of a critical, sceptical habit of putting our ideas and theories to severe tests, we unthinkingly assume or take for granted that any vivid, clear idea presented in our minds is with- out doubt a true idea. This, then, is the nature of belief. It is the confident expectation that what we desire will come true ; that what we find to be extremely interesting in accounts of the past were true ; that ideas and theories which stand forth clearly in our mind, undoubtedly are true. And this con- fidence we feel because, in a majority of instances, the things that we have desired and striven for have been realized; and the ideas and theories that we have acted upon in our striving have turned out to be sufficiently accurate for practical purposes. Consequently, the habit of our minds is this : in the absence of criticism, whatever we ardently desire, we confidently expect ; whatever we vividly imagine, we believe to be true. Belief, accordingly, is analogous to reflex action and response to suggestion. We have seen that, in the ab- sence of any intervention of the higher thought centres, — of any inhibition of action by a critical deliberation, — 146 The Elements of Sociology stimulation is followed by a nervous discharge and mus- cular movement. In like manner, in the absence of criti- cal investigation, desire and imagination pass immediately and without obstruction into belief. From the foregoing account of belief, the reader will easily gather that belief is more closely associated with the sympathetic, emotional, and imitative modes of mental activity than with the rational and deliberative modes. This is true ; and it may be added that belief is jiist a further stage in the development of the emotional and imaginative states of the mind, which has resulted from subjecting them to a series of practical experiments, in which success has, all in all, been more frequent than failure. Common Beliefs. — Let us now apply these truths to the further explanation of the social mind. In the experience of the community, as in that of the individual, emotional conduct, guided chiefly by imagina- tion, has more often than not achieved a measure of real success in practical undertakings. In accordance with the processes of mental development just explained, these successes have created prevailing beliefs in the commu- nity in regard to the objects of practical endeavour, the conditions of individual and social existence, and the methods of individual and social activity by which prac- tical success in life is attained. These beliefs are com- municated from the old to the young, and, as they become more and more firm in quality, they are taught with many strong asseverations of their certain truth and practical value. Thus, as was said at the beginning of this chap- ter, they become the chief material element in that mass of social memories which we call tradition. Formal Like-mindedness : Tradition and Conformity 147 With them, however, is mingled precept — the injunc- tion to heed and to cherish the beUefs themselves. With belief and precept are mingled also many shreds and scraps of actual knowledge. To some extent, in the course of time, beliefs are subjected to doubt, to critical investigation, and, if they happen to be true, to verifica- tion. Under this process, the verifiable elements of be- lief become scientific knowledge. We have now to observe next what orders or classes the whole body of social traditions may be divided into in accordance with the subject-matter. The Three Orders of Traditions. — The whole body of tradition is difTerentiated into three great orders of tra- ditions ; and these are differentiated into particular tradi- tions which correspond to the varied interests of life. The primary traditions are the economic, the juridical, and the political. When we were analyzing the practical activities of a social population, we discovered that the simple and primary activities are those of appreciation, utilization, characterization, and socialization. We also discovered that more complicated activities are produced by the combination of socialization with utilization and characterization. The elementary processes of apprecia- tion, utilization, and characterization are individual pro- cesses. They are activities which the individual may carry on, irrespective of his association with fellow-beings. For this reason there are no traditions corresponding to these beginnings of practical activity. Tradition is a social fact, and can come into existence only after some activity of socialization. Consequently, the earliest ac- tivities to give rise to bodies of traditional belief and precept are those complicated ones that are formed 148 The Elements of Sociology by the union of socialization with utilization and character- ization. Thus the traditions of utility are economic in form; they are traditions of the utility that is socially produced through various forms of mutual aid. The earliest tradi- tions of morality and characterization are in form traditions of that socially produced right conduct, the chief factor of which is toleration. The traditions of socialization itself, in like manner, are traditions of that union of economic and juristic activity, in combination with de- fensive and offensive alliance, which constitutes political activity. The Primary Traditions. — The economic tradition, probably the first to grow out of human experience, is a product of the relations of superiors to inferiors, including among inferiors not only less powerful human beings, but also animals, and all vegetable organisms and inorganic things that can be appropriated by the superiors or pressed into their service. This tradition is not, to any great extent, made up of conscious analyses of useful relations, useful activities, and degrees of utility. The tradition is concrete; but in the concrete it includes a scale of com- parative values. It includes popular beliefs that some things are more important or useful than others. It includes the popular ideas in regard to food, shelter, and objects that afford pleasure; it includes also the popular beliefs and precepts in regard to implements, clothing, gifts, trade, labour, and co5peration. All this economic tradition originally centres in the household ; but in the civilized world it extends to that elaborate organization of manufactures and commerce which has been differen- tiated from household industry. Formal Like-mindedness : Traditioft and Conformity 149 Second in importance among the primary traditions is the juristic tradition, which grows out of the relations of antag- onistic equals. It has been shown that the effective sanc- tion of toleration is vengeance. The modes of vengeance and the phases of toleration that are suitable to different circumstances are named and described in rules of custom which formulate those enjoyments and immunities that are habitually allowed. Collectively, these rules of objective and sanctioned right form the substance of what is called the Common Law. Third in importance among the primary traditions is the tradition of alliance in its political form. It grows out of relations to allies and superiors. Political alliance pre- supposes traditions of utility and of toleration. Its motive is the desire to strengthen the traditions of utility and of toleration by an obedience-compelling power, and to extend their application. The political tradition, therefore, is de- veloped out of the economic and juridical traditions, and in its evolution it is closely interwoven with them. These three primary traditions are the records of human experiences of the tangible world, the world of things and persons that can be seen, used, contended with, and com- bined with. The Secondary Traditions are the animistic or personal, the poetic, and the religious. They are the records of man's impressions of an intangible world — a world of per- sonal consciousness, and of the shadows, images, and echoes of tangible things. The personal or animistic tradition is the sum of man's beliefs about himself and other beings as consisting of body and soul. Children and savages, and many ignorant persons in civilized communities, conceive of inanimate I JO The Elements of Sociology objects as personal. Beliefs about their supposed habits and powers constitute a large part of the animistic tradition. Animals, in like manner, are conceived of by such persons as being like men not only in their power of voluntary motion, but also in powers of thought, imagination, and purpose. The poetic tradition consists of beliefs about sounds and images as means of personal expression. The sav- age regards the shadow or image as a veritable spiritual essence ; the echo as the audible voice of an unseen soul. The civilized man has ceased to regard sounds and forms as living things in any such crude sense; but through them, in music, in poetry, and in the plastic arts, he ex- presses and he reads the subtlest moods of emotion and imagination. From the earliest times, poetry and art have conceived of the world and all things in it as essentially animate or personal ; and this fact is described in systems of rhetoric as the habit or art of personification. The truth of the matter is that personification, as the peculiar quality of poetry or art, is not a rhetorical or artistic inven- tion. It is the survival of the primitive man's way and of the child's way of thinking about the world and describing it. The poetic way of conceiving the world is that which accepts the appearance of personality as real, and accepts all images, words, and sounds, as themselves realities. The religious tradition is the sum of beliefs about the continued existence of the soul after the death of the body and about invisible personal powers, from ghosts to gods, which are supposed to govern natural phenomena and to control human destinies. Savages think that the world is peopled with the spirjts of the dead. They are regarded with fear ; and beliefs about them are a confused web Formal Like-mindedness : Tradition and Conformity 151 of superstition. To the barbarian, spirits are of various ranks, from inferior and contemptible ghosts to powerful gods who, usually, are the ghosts of great chieftains or the animating spirits of awe-inspiring natural objects. In civilized lands, the ignorant still believe in ghosts ; and a majority of the people believe in the existence of personal gods, or of one Omnipotent God. The Tertiary Traditions are found only in civilized lands. They are traditions of conceptual thought. In other words, they are the record of human reasoning and specu- lative thinking rather than of mere impression and belief. They have been developed by an application of specula- tive thinking or of scientific investigation to the subject- matter of popular belief. The oldest of the tertiary traditions is the theological tradition, which was created by an elaborate process of rea- soning and speculation upon the materials furnished by pop- ular religious beliefs. It is the sum and record of attempts to demonstrate by reason the existence of a personal God, to explain his nature and purposes, and to prove that he created and providentially governs the world and man. The second of the tertiary traditions is the metaphysi- cal. It has been derived from the theological. It refines the theological explanation of the universe by interpos- ing " secondary causes," laws, and principles between phenomena and their ultimate cause — the fiat of God. The third of the tertiary traditions is the scientific. The scientific tradition is the sum of our actual knowledge of the world and of man as distinguished from our con- jectures about them. It is the sifted record of observa- tions, experiments, and classifications. Making no attempt to penetrate the final mystery of existence, the scientific 152 The Elements of Sociology tradition explains the constitution of the world only to the extent of showing how one thing is related to other things in sequence and in coexistence. Formal Like-mindedness. — The popular acceptance of tradition — of beliefs that have been handed down from past generations — and obedience to the rules and pre- cepts that are embodied in the various traditions, are modes of like-mindedness. But, unlike those described in the preceding chapter, they are not spontaneous or impulsive ; they are rather to be described as formal like- mindedness. They are analogous to habit in the indi- vidual mind. Formal like-mindedness is produced by two chief means. The tendency of the mind to accept as true what- ever is vividly imagined or ardently desired, if no critical activity of the reason intervenes, is enormously strength- ened when the thing believed, or that the mind tends to believe, is already believed by other persons in whom the individual has personal confidence. In the preceding chapter it was shown that any spontaneous emotion or impulse awakened in the mind by an emblem or shibbo- leth is enormously strengthened by knowledge that other persons also are moved by it. In like manner, the ten- dency of the mind to believe anything is strengthened by the knowledge that other persons already believe. In short, the consciousness of kind is a powerful element in the growth of popular belief. Yet further is the tendency to believe strengthened by the knowledge that not only one's contemporaries believe, but that preceding generations for ages past also have believed. The presumption in favour of the truth of the belief has become enormous, not only because its antiquity Formal Like-niindedness : Tradition and Conformity 153 is an impressive fact appealing to imagination, but be- cause, if the critical intelligence begins to question, it is likely to be easily satisfied by the reflection that if the belief were untrue, its falsity must long ago have been discovered and exposed. Tradition thus acquires in human society all the tremen- dous force of authority. Authority is a moral power that constrains man's will without his knowing or being able to find out why. It is born of emotion and belief rather than of reason, which is ever asking the wherefore and the why. Nevertheless, since reason and rational self- control are of slow growth, the authority of tradition serves a useful end in helping to maintain social order. The second means by which formal like-mindedness is developed is found in direct teaching and discipline. Tra- dition is imposed upon the child by his parents and elder acquaintances. He is directly taught that the traditional beliefs are true, and that it is even wrong to doubt their truth and authority. Disbelief is often punished ; and dis- obedience of traditional precept is punished usually. Not only so, but through the intimate association between tra- dition and the everyday activities of life, the child insen- sibly associates the practical activity with its traditional background. In his economic life, in his legal relations and political activities, he can take no single step without practically accepting most of the traditional system. Daily life thus becomes a ceaseless discipline and drill in activi- ties which openly or tacitly assume the truth and suffi- ciency of tradition. In general, it may be said that while occasional events, and especially the dramatic events of life, produce sympa- thetic like-mindedness; the routine of habitual activity, the 154 The Elements of Sociology teaching and the discipHne of life, continually tend to produce formal like-mindedness, including conformity to established customs. The Laws of Traditional Control. — The development of formal like-mindedness by the means above described is due to the emotional nature of belief. Because it is emo- tional and imaginative, and in its genesis closely allied to motor processes, belief compels its adherents to assert it vehemently, to teach it zealously, to try to make others accept it, and to compel conformity to its precepts. Knowledge, on the other hand, or verified scientific truth, never tries to compel allegiance. Essentially intellectual and contemplative, it waits to be accepted by those who have the intelligence to discover and appreciate it. From the foregoing facts, it follows that, when the so- cial mind assumes the mode of belief, it becomes an active social force tending to compel acceptance and conformity. This control by belief is reinforced by the influence of antiquity, chiefly because mere venerableness is impressive and has much of the effectiveness of emblem and shibboleth. Accordingly, the laws of the social force of tradition are : First, tradition is authoritative and coercive in proportion to its antiquity. Second, tradition is authoritative and coercive in propor- tion as its subject-matter consists of belief rather than of critically established knowledge. PARALLEL STUDY Read Blackstone's account of Custom ; Wundt's "Ethics," Volume I, Chapter III ; Maine's '• Early Law and Custom," Chapter II ; and Spen- cer's " Principles of Sociology," Volume III, Part VI, Chapters IX, XII, XIII, XIV. CHAPTER XV Rational Like-mindedness : Public Opinion and Social Values The Rat'tKial d'p-^ of Public Opinion. — No error is more common than one which confounds popular beliefs with the social judgments that constitute true public opinion. Public belief, as has been shown, is essentially emotional ; while judgments are a product of critical thinking, and are essentially rational in character. Where two or more indi- viduals, each of whom is capable of subjecting his ideas and inherited beliefs to a critical examination, come to the same conclusion, so that their critically tested judgments are identical, the result is a rational like-mindedness, and is properly to be spoken of as public opinion. Another way of stating the same truth is to say that public opinion comes into existence only when a sympathetic like-minded- ness or an agreement in belief is subjected to criticism, started by some sceptical individual who doubts the truth of the belief or the wisdom of the agreement ; and an opin- ion is then thought out to which many communicating minds can yield their rational assent. It is obvious that not all members of a community are equally competent to share in the creation of the critical judgments that constitute true public opinion. Yet, nearly every individual of ordinary intelligence may share in it to some extent. All that is necessary is that his be- 155 156 The Elements of Sociology liefs should be assailed by doubt, and that, after passing through the experience of questioning and uncertainty, he should arrive at judgments for which he can give reasons rather than at convictions which he merely feels. The process by which doubt is created, criticism is in- stituted, and judgments are arrived at in society, is called discussion. In discussion, conflicting beliefs are compared, analyzed, and subjected to argument. So long as men accept as true everything that they hear repeated, or that they are themselves prone to believe, tV -f talk is not to be described as discussion. It becomes discussion only when some one disputes or denies, and thereby compels those who assert to give reasons, or advance arguments, in support of what they affirm. It is in this wholesome pro- cess of intellectual strife, as invigorating to the mind as athletic exercise is to the body, that false "beliefs are ex- posed, and true views are confirmed by the verdict of an alert and all-searching reason. Public opinion, then, develops in any community just to the extent that free discussion develops, just to the extent that men are in the habit of asking searching questions and compelling one another to prove their assertions. Public opinion, therefore, can exist only where men are in continual communication, and where they are free to express their real minds, without fear or restraint. Where- ever men are forbidden by governmental or other authority to assemble, to hold meetings, to speak or write freely, or wherever they stand in fear of losing social position, or employment, or property, if they freely speak their minds, there is no true public opinion ; there is only a mass of traditional beliefs or outbursts of popular feeling. Public Opinion and Social Values 157 Products of Thought aud Tradition. — In the preceding chapter it was shown that men believe that their ideas are true, and that their desires will be realized because, in actual experience, their ideas have turned out to be suffi- ciently near the truth for practical purposes, and most of their desires have been fulfilled. This amounts to saying that most of the beliefs of mankind have been true, or have contained a large measure of truth. Consequently, criti- cal discussion which, from time to time, modifies popular belief, seldom succeeds in completely overthrowing or anni- hilating it. There is continually taking place an amalga- mation of critical judgments with tradition ; and the result is a number of important products of the social mind, all of which may be described as combinations of tradition with new thought. These products are known as standards, codes, policies, ideals, tastes, faiths, creeds, an.d "isms." The Standard of Living. — The combination of eco- nomic traditions with current economic opinions is the general standard of living of the community. This term has been loosely used by economic writers. The commod- ities that a labouring class consumes are not its standard of living ; they are merely an index of its standard. Still less is mere desire a standard. The labour agitator has not necessarily a higher standard of living than his followers have if he fluently discourses of refined wants which they do not feel. The real standard of living is a certain con- ception of economic life which regulates desire and controls conduct. It is constituted of traditional beliefs and new ideas in varying proportions, and changes as these factors change. It is not because the Hungarian is satisfied with food and lodging that would disgust an American, that the Hungarian standard of living in the coke-burning districts 158 The Elements of Sociology of Pennsylvania is lower than the American standard, The Hungarian is so easily satisfied because his standard of living is lower. The Legal Code. — The combination of jural tradition with new law is the legal code. To what extent the pub- lic opinion of the hour, not yet enacted into statute, is an element in new law is a question upon which jurists disa- gree. It is admitted that public opinion influences the ' interpretation of law ; and in a republic public opinion is the real law-enforcing power back of all nominal powers. ' For the purposes of theory and practice, all authoritatively declared law is held to be law until it is authoritatively repealed. But as a phenomenon of the social mind, a rule of conduct that public opinion refuses to enforce is already undergoing repeal. Public Policy. — The combination of political tradition r and current political opinion is policy — a plan or pro- 1 gramme of legislation and administration. In quiet times, when a party or government has long been intrenched in power, the element of tradition predominates. Often have political parties suffered defeat and passed into temporary or permanent obscurity because of inability to vitalize their policy with fresh issues. In times of disturbance, or when new interests clamour for attention, the predominant ele- ment in policy is current opinion. Ideals and Creeds. — New thought in combination with ( the tradition of personality creates an ideal. The product of the poetic tradition and current criticism is taste. The product of traditional religious beliefs and current reli- gious ideas is a faith. The modification of the theological tradition by current conceptions is a creed. The modifi- cation of the metaphysical tradition by current speculation Public Opinion and Social Values 159 is an "ism." The modification of the scientific tradition by fresh discoveries has and needs no special name; for Science makes no compromises between the old and the , new. Whatever of the old is verified by later research is retained; whatever is disproved is rejected, and the net result is truth. These products of tradition and opinion exist only in individual minds. The argument occasionally met with, that because they can be committed to writing, they are independent objective realities, is a fallacy. The written page is meaningless apart from the knowledge of the living reader. But at any given moment they exist in a multi- tude of interacting minds, and are therefore objective as well as subjective to each individual. Upon each mind as it unfolds they are imposed from without, and are sanc- tioned by penalties for disregard or disobedience that range from ridicule, disapproval, and boycotting, to collec- tive force and vengeance. Through the channels of its standards, codes, and policies ; of its ideals, tastes, and faiths; of its creeds, "isms," and investigations, the men- tal life of society flows in an ever-changing distribution. One generation is absorbed in political concerns ; another in business affairs. At one time society is religious ; at another time creative and artistic ; at yet another time scientific. Always, however, a tendency towards the es- tablishment of a normal equilibrium may be observed. At any given moment, traditional beliefs and current opinions assume unlike forms in different parts of the popula- tion. The products of the social mind are mutually dependent. Social Values. — Belief and tradition are products of in- \ tellectual activity in combination with emotion. Public ' i6o The Elements of Sociology 'opinion is almost wholly an intellectual product. The combinations of public opinion with tradition that have just been described are largely intellectual in character, though not altogether so. All these products become further complicated by the combination with them of the ever-changing moods of desire. In these combinations, and certain resulting products now to be described, we have the final and most complex integration of the ele- ments and products of the social mind. The immediate products of social desire in combination 'with social judgments and traditions • are social values. By this tern) we mean social estimations of certain satis- factions, relations, modes of activity, and forms of social organization, which are analogous to those valuations of material wealth and of useful activities that are made by the individual mind and form a part of the subject-matter of economic science. The objects of social value, like objects of value in the economic sense, are of two classes or categories. One class comprises those objects that are esteemed for the direct or immediate satisfaction that they yield, as the goods which, like food and clothing ready for immediate consumption, are esteemed for the utility that they directly afford. The other class comprises those objects of social value that are esteemed because they are means to the attainment of the objects of the first class, just as tools, machinery, and other forms of capital goods are esteemed because they are means to the production of goods for immediate consumption. Primary Values. — In the first chapter, it was shown that companionship, like-mindedness, and the conscious- ness of kind, are immediately pleasurable. Quite irrespec- Public Opinion mid Social Values i6i tive of such useful results as safety and the increase 'of material wealth through cooperation and the division of labor, society affords immediate satisfaction to its indi- vidual members. From this fact it follows that the first category of i objects of social value, comprises these ; namely, the companion or socius, companionship or association, like- i mindedness, and that state of mind which has been called i the consciousness of kind. These are the objects for 1 which society exists. They directly yield the supreme satisfaction of the social relation. All other social products, all forms of social organization, are secondary objects of social value, because they are merely means to the attainment of ulterior ends. 1. The Socius. — The supreme object of social value \ is the socius or the group of socii. A man may value his houses and lands more than he values his neighbours ; but houses and lands are objects primarily of economic rather than of social value. In the social category there is noth- j ing else that we cherish as we do our comrades, friends, \ and neighbours. 2. The Qualities of the Socius. — While supremely valuing our associates as concrete personalities, by a pro- cess of abstraction we learn to value also their peculiar qualities. Usually we lay stress on qualities that espe- cially appeal to us through the consciousness of kind. If we are devoted to athletics, we value that passion in our companions. If we are artistic, we value good taste and hate Philistinism. If we are sympathetic, we value kind- ness, and an unselfish devotion to humanity. 3. The Social Type. — By further abstraction, we learn \ to value personal qualities collectively. Having taken 1 62 The Elements of Sociology note of the peculiarities of our associates, in course of time we combine our observations in a complex mental image like a composite photograph. This image we call a type. Next to the socii themselves as concrete person- alities, communities value their own type of manhood and social nature. This valuation of type is a chief element in what is called national prejudice. It is humorously symbolized in such national nicknames as "John Bull," "Brother Jonathan," and "Uncle Sam." 4. TJie Preferred Mode of Resemblance. — By a yet further process of abstraction, the individual or the com- munity, in valuations of socii, and especially of peculiar and typical qualities, commonly lays stress on some one of the great modes of resemblance. That which is chiefly valued in the socius may be the resemblance of blood or kinship, as happens in family relationships, where attach- ment to relatives exists in consequence of kinship, irre- spective of all other reasons ; or it may be mental and moral resemblance, and the consequent capacity for cooperation ; or yet again, it may be the potential resem- blance which is the foundation of so large a proportion of all friendship and agreeable acquaintance. 5. The Ideal Socius. — Every individual has not only his actual socii, but also an ideal socius, or perhaps ideal socii, which, at a very early age, he begins to create in imagination. Putting together traits of character that please him in his actual living companions, and leaving out traits of character that displease him, he creates ideal personalities as truly as any novelist or dramatist does, except that he has not the dramatist's power of picturing them to the imaginations of other persons. Experiments that have been made with thousands of school children Public Opinion and Social Values 163 have shown that, with few exceptions, children of gram^ mar and high school grades have well-defined images of ideal characters or heroes whom they desire in their own personal development to resemble, or whom they hope to find in some measure realized in actual companions to be met with in future years. Communities, as well as individuals, create their ideal socii, and try by vari- ous means, such as religious and secular teaching, and laws forbidding certain kinds of conduct, to mould the actual members of society into semblance of the ideal types. 6. Elements of Goodness. — In creating ideals of any kind, whether of pleasures, things, or persons, the mind proceeds by means of its idea of a quality which we call goodness or the good. Goodness is a quality of things, acts, or experiences, which appeals to the judgment rather than to sensation or emotion. Among possible pleasures, there are some of which the judgment may not approve. Goodness, then, is not coextensive with the pleasing or the pleasure-giving. The good consists of all that upon which we have passed a critical judgment of approval, as dis- tinguished from utilities that we accept and enjoy un- critically. In any community the ruling criteria of goodness are 1 derived from the typical qualities of the population ; and it is impossible for any community to think that its own traits and its own conduct do not, in some measure, realize its conception of the ideal good. (i) Power and Independence. — In this idealizing pro- cess, a majority of all human beings especially value power, both physical, and mental or moral. The hero of the aver- , age man is the person of great physical strength, or skill. 164 The Elements of Sociology or courage ; and the average man delights in the intimate acquaintance and companionship of such a hero. He wishes himself to resemble such men of power; and he desires that the community to which he belongs shall col- lectively manifest this quality. In literature, the noblest expressions of this social valuation of power are the Ho- meric epics, the later Greek tragedies, the grim Teutonic legends, and the magnificent sagas of the North. (2) Love of Pleasure. — The characteristic that is valued next after power, and by almost as many members of the community, is the love of pleasure and the capacity for creating and enjoying it. Most human beings delight in the companionship of those who love a good time and know how to have it. The man who can make fun or provide amusement, and who has the power to arouse an entire company to mirth, is always in demand, is always admired, and is always an example widely imitated. This social valuation also has varied expression in literature — most beautiful, perhaps, in the romance and poetry of chivalry, which picture a ceaseless round of tournaments and bouts, of hunting and hawking, of feasting, love-mak- ing, and minstrelsy. (3) Selfconsei'vation. — A smaller proportion of man- kind, and yet an enormous number in the aggregate, chiefly value those moral qualities that may collectively be spoken of as self-restraint or self-conservation. The power to be temperate in all things, to resist temptation, to ab- stain with rigid self-denial from modes or degrees of pleas- ure that often result in injury, is a trait of character vastly admired by a portion of mankind, and is chiefly sought for in the selection of companions and in the efforts that are made to mould the characters of the members of the com- Public Opinion and Social Values 165 munity. This particular form of social valuation is known in history as Puritanism. Its highest literary expression is found in the "Divine Comedy" of Dante and the "Para- dise Lost " of Milton. (4) Self-realisation. — Yet fewer, a small minority in fact of all mankind, are those who chiefly value that keen- visioned and rational personality which, with wide outlook \ upon the world, strives for the complete realization of all \ the nobler possibilities of life. The mind that appreciates the worth of all bodily powers, mental capacities, and moral virtues that belong to the individual human being, that strives to perfect a well-rounded nature, giving as far as possible full play to every faculty, realizing that the . supreme object of life is the highest possible development of personality, the intellectual sympathy that desires this \ larger life for all men, and the faith that holds it possible, ' — these belong to an ideal personality which, in the nature of things, appeals only to the thoughtful few. Neverthe- less, to the few at all times and, in a progressive civili- zation, to an increasing proportion of all men, it is the supreme object of social value. In literature, this noblest valuation finds its loftiest expression in the writings of Petrarch, Goethe, and Robert Browning. 7. Heroes, Saints, and Gods. — In every community the qualities of the actual or ideal type that most strongly^ appeal to a majority of the population are typified in cer-i tain heroes whose characters are sure to approach more: and more closely to the ideal type as the years go by, and imagination, legend, and poetry do their work, of eliminat- ing from the mental picture all those elements that are in- consistent with the ideal, and of heightening those that are most characteristic of it. The military heroes, the states- 1 66 The Elements of Sociology men, poets, and even men of science who have won re- nown invariably become to popular belief the typical embodiments of the moral qualities chiefly valued in the community. The same is true of religious saints, and among savage and barbarian peoples of those gods that are supposed to be the surviving spirits of tribal chieftains once formidable in their earthly life. Secondary Values. — We will more briefly notice those objects of social value that belong to the second class or category ; those, namely, that are means to the mainten- ance and development of the socii, or to the creation of ideal socii, or to the perfection of those relations of com- panionship which are the immediate source of social pleasure. First in this second category of objects of social value is always placed that social cohesion which is necessary to the maintenance of the social system with all the benefits that it confers. So great is the valuation of social unity that whenever the natural means of social cohesion in the form of spontaneous sympathy, agreement in opinion, or loyalty are lacking, artificial means, even of the most questionable character, are invariably resorted to. States threatened with disruption, and even parties and sects in similar circumstances, have rarely failed to resort to co- ercion, bribery, and patronage as means of maintaining a failing social cohesion. The social cohesion, by whatever means maintained, acts upon the type or kind of character prevalent in the community, in other words, upon the type of socius, through various yet more remote means, among which are included possessions, customs, laws, and institutions. All these, therefore, are objects of social value. They may be Public Opinion and Social Values 167 divided into two chief groups. One group includes heri- tages, that is, possessions, customs, and institutions, that, have descended from former generations. The other group includes all laws and institutions that are in the , nature of innovations or experiments. Laws of Social Choice. — Social values are the grounds of rational social choice, and of all action of the social will that is deliberate rather than impulsive. There have been writers on Sociology who have denied that masses of men ever act rationally. They have argued that as men differ less in feeling than in intelligence, and as men in crowds are peculiarly susceptible to emotion and suggestion, the intellectual processes have, under such circumstances, very little opportunity to manifest them- selves. Nevertheless, there is abundant historical proof that- communities do oftentimes arrive at rational decisions, after many years of persistent discussion of the merits of the question. Among excellent examples have been most of the amendments to the Constitution of the United States, and to the constitutions of the several common- wealths. The Essential Condition of deliberate social decision is the alternation of meeting and discussion with separation. The crowd must occasionally disperse. Its individual members must be brought under new influences. This truth is simply a more complicated case of that psycho- logical law, already noted, that rational thinking consists in the interposition of new ideas between stimulation and the consequent muscular action. The tendency of the crowd, as we have seen, is to react instantly as a unit upon any suggestion, just as the tendency of the non-rational 1 68 The Elements of Sociology man is to expend his nervous energy in reflex action. In the individual, this process is interrupted by any new idea or suggestion. In the crowd, it is interrupted when dis- persion and separation bring the individual members under new influences. When the conditions favourable to rational social choice exist, the choice itself is determined by the scale of social values, just as individual choices are determined by the scale of ethical and economic values in individual minds. The Law of Preference. — So long as the majority of men chiefly value the primitive virtues of power, indepen- dence, courage, and ability in every form, it is evident that rational social choice must more often than not turn upon this particular object of social esteem. In like manner, the least influential object in determining social choice is that rational self-realization which appeals only to the few. Consequently, we have the first law of rational social choice, the law of preference of ends to be achieved, as follows : In all social choice, the most infltiential ideal is that of personal force or of virtue in the original sense ; the second in influence is the hedonistic or ntilitarian ideal, namely, the ideal of pleasure ; the third is self-conservation, or the Puritan ideal ; the least influential is the ideal of self- realization or self-development. But if mental evolution continues, the' higher ideals become increasingly influential. The Law of Combination and of Uleans. — A second law governing social choices is the law of combination and of the choice of means. While a population, like an individual, shows marked preferences in its estimation of the qualities of the ideal socius or community, and in its estimation of ?nds to be Public Opinion and Social Values 169 achieved, in real life it is always necessary to make many combinations of choices, many modifications, and to decide upon the best means of realizing the preferred ends. In these attempts to make combinations and to select means, certain characteristics of choice appear which we are in the habit of speaking of as conservative or radical. Some communities, like individuals, are loath to displace one object of value by another, to disturb existing relations, or to resort to any extreme means in order to achieve desired ends. Other communities, like individuals of a different type, are eager to sweep away the old, to indulge in radical experiment, or resort to any means that promises suc- cess. These tendencies, however, are not fortuitous : they are strictly governed by law. To make this clear, it is necessary to begin with an ex- planation of a simple case. In choosing our pleasures, we have to modify some indulgences so that they will combine well with others; or, failing to do that, we have to sacrifice some pleasures altogether. As a rule, many moderate pleasures that-, combine well will make up a larger total of satisfaction than a few pleasures, each of which is intense. Therefore, it is necessary to correct each subjective value as indi- vidually considered, by reference to its probable relation to , other values. Again, in subjective valuations by the individual, imme- diate good is not necessarily the only element considered. Further corrections may be made for the future good or ill that must result from the choice contemplated, incliiding reactions on the personality, the self-development, and the self-activity of the chooser. As soon as the individual has acquired the intellectual 170 The Elements of Sociology power to make such corrections, he attempts to bring his subjective values into a consistent whole; but the compo- sition of the whole, and his success in making it harmoni- ous throughout, depend very much upon his own experi- ences. If his experiences have been of few kinds, and each has often been repeated, his consciousness has be- come identified with a total of subjective values that is thoroughly consistent as far as it goes, but that is very simple in its make-up. His few pleasures are relatively intense, and he pursues each further than he would if they were varied. Suppose, now, that some new element or new mode of good is introduced into his life — a new pleasure, more intense than any that he has hitherto enjoyed ; or that suddenly he sees opened to him possibilities of many new modes of good which, however, are more or less incompati- ble with those to which he has been accustomed. His group of subjective values becomes at once larger and more complex than it was before, but also less organized. A longtime will elapse, before the readjustment is made. It will involve many sacrifices and self-denials. Mean- while, the chances are that he will choose crudely and radically. He will substitute oftener than he will com- bine. He will destroy when he might conserve. He will go wholly over to the new way of life, enjoying as before a few modes of experience intensely, instead of learning that he might get a greater total of satisfaction from a large number of less intense experiences harmoniously put together. Let these principles now be applied to a population. It is usual to speak of the elements, modes, and means of good collectively as interests. A population map of a Public Opinion and Social Values 171 country may be made, showing the distribution of the people according to their interests. In one region is dis- covered a marked predominance of those who have hved for generations in a circumscribed way — the people of narrow experiences and of few interests. In another region are discovered large numbers of those who have suddenly found themselves face to face with possibilities of which they had not dreamed. Elsewhere are discovered those who have so long enjoyed varied experiences and have cultivated manifold interests that their subjective values make up totals that are highly complex and yet, at the same time, harmonious. The people of these different regions in their industry, their law-making, their educational and religious under- takings, and their organization of institutions, choose, select, or decide, strictly in accordance with the mental characteristics that these different experiences have de- veloped. The law of combination and of means which their choices exemplify is as follows : A population that has only a few interests, which, how- \ ever, are harmoniously combined, is conservative in its '^ choices. A population that has varied interests, which are ' as yet inharmonious ly combined, is radical in its choices. Only the population that has many, varied, and harmoni- ously combined interests is consistently progressive in its i choices. PARALLEL STUDY Read Bryce's "American Commonwealth," Part IV. From news- paper almanacs, obtain political party platforms, and analyze them with reference to social values. CHAPTER XVI Social Organization Two Causes of Organizatioii. — Many of the activities in which individuals combine their efforts are continued or repeated until they have become habitual. The coopera- tion that is seen in industry, in military operations, and in government is a series, not of occasional or haphazard undertakings, but of activities that are both systematic and continuous. In carrying on systematic activities of cooperation, dif- ferent individuals sustain relatively permanent relations to one another. For example, for years together, two or more men may conduct business in partnership ; the re- lation of partnership may become habitual to them. The same private soldiers for years together obey the same officers. Certain families for generations live as friendly neighbours to one another in the same village. Villages, towns, and counties continue to maintain that combina- tion of interests which we call a state or commonwealth; and the same commonwealths continue to maintain that union which we call a federal nation. These habitual rela- tions of the members of a society to one another, and these persistent forms of cooperative activity, are collec- tively called the social organization. The social organization is produced by two distinct sets of causes acting in combination. 172 Social Organization 173 The relations themselves that men sustain to one an- other, and the forms of cooperative activity, spring up as 1 a result of individual suggestion and practical convenience.' Relations that are accidentally formed prove to be interest- ing, agreeable, and useful, and are therefore permanently maintained. Forms of cooperation that are invented for a temporary purpose prove to be so successful that they too are persisted in. In all this we see nothing but the spon-'' taneous action of resembling and sympathetic minds pur- suing their own immediate practical interests. The social; mind, or concurrent intelligence of the community, has not been the original creative power. When, however, these spontaneously formed features of social organization have become so well established or so conspicuous that they challenge the attention of every member of the community, the social mind begins to re- flect upon them. They become subjects of public discus- sion and of general approval or disapproval. Subjected then to analysis and criticism, they are finally pronounced good, or evil, or doubtful, by the concurrent opinion of the society. Their further development is then tolerated or encouraged, or they are stamped out, and the individuals who attempt to maintain them are punished. Thus, for example, many different forms of family organization have, from time to time, appeared in the world. There have been not only monogamous families, formed by the marriage of one man and one woman, but polyandrous families, consisting of one wife with two or more husbands, and polygynous families, consisting of one husband with two or more wives. In the course of time, civilized communities have come to disapprove of all forms of family organization except the monogamic, and 174 ^^'^ Elements of Sociology to prohibit both polyandrian and polygynous forms. The United States, after tolerating for many years the polygy- nous Mormon communities of Utah, positively forbade polygamy within the territories of the United States, and took rigorous measures to stamp it out. Another excellent example of the action of the social mind upon the social organization is to be seen in the organization of the state and of the form of government. The state, as it slowly develops through military and legal activity, may assume any one of the great historical forms of monarchy or republic. In course of time, how- ever, the forms of government are subjected to a thorough- going analysis and criticism in public discussion, and the community arrives at a decision to establish firmly, and to perpetuate, certain forms to the exclusion of all others. Once more, the forms of business organization that now prevail in civilized communities are products of the double process that has been described. They have sprung up spontaneously ; but having come into existence, they have challenged social attention and public opinion, and have finally been formally authorized, defined, and limited, by statute law and the decisions of courts. In both of these processes through which social organi- zation is created, the essential basis of organization is like- mindedness, the agreement of the thoughts and feelings of many individuals which makes practical cooperation possi- ble. All social organization, accordingly, is an expression of like-mindedness in the population. As will be ex- plained presently, peculiarities in the development of social organization are to be accounted for partly by the passion of like-minded people to perfect and extend like-mindedness itself ; that is, to make the community more and more Social Organization 175 homogeneous in mental and moral qualities ; partly by a developing appreciation of the value of unlike-mindedness as a means of variation and progress, and partly by the combination and reconciliation of these two motives. Forms of Organization. — Social organization assumes certain great forms in every society, and these, some of which were briefly defined in the first chapter, must now be more fully described. Institictions. — The first distinction to be made among social forms is one that follows directly from the foregoing account of the double origin of organization. It is the distinction between those social arrangements that are institutions and those that are not. There is no word in any language that is more carelessly used by writers who should know better than this word " institutions." An in- stitution is a social relation that is established by adequate and rightful authority. The ultimate, source of authority in society is the social mind. Consequently, those forms , of organization, those relations and arrangements which the social mind has reflected upon, which it has accepted, allowed, or commanded, — and those only, — are institu- tions. A band of robbers may be an organization, but it is not an institution. The social arrangements of a com- munity of savages are modes of organization, but they are not institutions. The historical rise of institutions will be explained in the chapter on Civilization. The Social Composition. — In every community that is larger than a single family, there is a grouping of indi- viduals that brings together both sexes and all ages in those small organizations that we call families, brings families together in villages, towns, or cities ; brings towns or cities together in provinces, departments, or common- 176 The Elemetits of Sociology wealths, and combines the latter in national states. This plan of organization may be called the social composition. Its chief characteristic is the capacity of each of the com- ponent groups, whether it be a commonwealth; a city, or merely a family, to live an independent life and perpetuate human society if it were cut off from relations with all other communities in the world. Containing, as each component group does, both sexes and individuals of more than one generation, it has all the elements necessary for the perpetuation of the race, and therefore for the growth of population and for the evolution of social relations. The Social Constitution. — A very different form of grouping and organization, found in each component society larger than a single family, may be called the social constitution. This is an organization of the indi- vidual members of the community into associations, or groups for carrying on special forms of activity, or main- taining particular interests. Such associations are busi- ness partnerships and corporations, political parties, churches, philanthropic societies, schools, universities, and scientific associations. Each of these groupings may be called a constituent society ; and it is obvious that constituent societies — which more often than not include individuals of one sex only, though not necessarily so, and are organized only for the special purpose of carrying on some form of business, political, or intellectual activity — have in themselves no natural power of self- perpetuation, and can exist, therefore, only as subdivisions of component societies. Public and Private Organiization. — Social organization may be further described as public or private. All compo- nent societies, except families and unincorporated vil- Social Organization lyj lages, are public organizations. Most constituent societies are private organizations. Chief among exceptions is the state, or supreme political organization. It is not an easy matter to define the exact difference between public and private organization. The difference is a legal one, and cannot be perfectly understood without some knowledge of legal principles. Essentially, however, it lies in the right to put in motion the coercive power of the state. The public organization, on the one hand, can do this directly of its own will. For example, a munici- pality is a public organization that has received from the state the authority to organize a police, to make arrests, and to use force in other ways if necessary to maintain public order. All this it can do in virtue of the authority originally conferred upon it, without being obliged, when the emergency arises, to ask special permission or seek the special assistance of any higher power. The private organization, on the other hand, can put the coercive power of the state in motion only indi- rectly. If it requires the assistance of legal or military force, it can <>btain it only by applying to a court or to some public executive authority. Incorporated and Unincorporated Organizations. — Social i organizations are yet further to be described as incorpo- rated or unincorporated. The incorporated organization is one that has been created by the authority of the state. I Its plan of organization has been described by law; its[ powers have been fixed by law, and likewise its respon- sibilities. The incorporated organization may be either public or private. Municipalities are public organizations ; manufacturing and trading companies are private organi- zations. A further characteristic of private corporations 178 The Elements of Sociology usually is a limited liability of their individual members. It is usual, in manufacturing and trading corporations, to fix an individual liability for indebtedness to the amount of the individual's stock or ownership, or of some multiple thereof. When this limit has been fixed by law, it cannot be exceeded. In a private partnership, on the other hand, each partner is individually liable for all the debts of the business. From what has been said, it will be seen that unincor- porated organizations are private associations. A village, if unincorporated, is merely a private body. It has not received from the state any legal definition or grant of power, and therefore it has no right, of its own volition, to put the coercive machinery of the state into operation. It can do so only through the mediation of courts or other public authorities. Not all incorporated bodies, however, are public organizations. Most business corporations are private organizations. Yet more numerous are the private organizations that are unincorporated. In civilized com- munities innumerable societies for all conceivable purposes have no legal status, and depend entirely upon the volun- tary support of their individual members. Trade unions are among the best examples that can be mentioned of such associations. PARALLEL STUDY Read Spencer's " Principles of Sociology," Volume I, Part II, Chap- ters VI, VII, VIII, and IX. In Lalor's "Cyclopasdia of Political Science," read Thomas M. Cooley's article, " Corporations, Law of." CHAPTER XVII Component Societies Resemblance in Component Societies. — A component society is wholly or partly a genetic aggregation. The smaller component groups, including families and sometimes vil- lages, may be products of genetic aggregation only. Such larger component societies as cities and common- wealths are products of genetic aggregation and congre- gation together. Therefore, to some extent, the members of a compo- nent society are of one blood. They share also as much mental and moral resemblance as is necessary for prac- tical cooperation. If they are of widely different origins, their potential resemblance enables them, through assimi- lation, to approach a common type. Thus, in many par- ticulars, the members of a component society are alike, and they have the consciousness of kind. Otherwise, the group as a social product could not exist. In other particulars, however, the members of a com- ponent society are unlike. In addition to differences of sex and age, and, in the larger groups, of nationality, there are differences of ability, character, and taste. By careful observation it is possible to discover what resemblances are essential in a component society and what differences are tolerated. Tribal component socie- ties insist upon kinship. Civil component societies highly 179 i8o The Elements of Sociology value a common blood, but do not demand it; instead, they require potential likeness. All component societies require mental and moral likeness, but, within the limits of common morality, none insists upon any one point of mental or moral similarity so long as the aggregate of resemblances remains large and varied. Subject to these conditions, the mental and moral differences among the members of a component society may be of any imagina- ble kind. So far, then, as mental and moral traits are concerned, no particular resemblance, but the amount of resemblance, — the number and variety of points of re- semblance, — is characteristic of the component society. Of course, the apparent amount of resemblance that we find among the members of a component society de- pends upon the standard of measurement that we adopt. Likeness and unlikeness, it is not useless to repeat, are purely relative terms. As compared with the difference between an Englishman and a Chinaman, the English- man and the German are alike ; while as compared with the difference between two Englishmen, the Englishman and the German are unlike. For scientific purposes, there are two standards of comparison that should be referred to in observing the amount of resemblance among the members of a com- ponent society. It will be remembered that a component society is always a part' of a larger community which has been called an integral society. The city is merely one part of the state or commonweath, and the commonwealth, merely one part of the nation. If, then, we take the amount of resemblance existing among all members of the integral society as a basis of comparison, we discover that the members of the component society have a greater Component Societies 181 amount of resemblance. The members of the smah group are on the whole more alike than are all the members of the group of groups taken together. There is more re- semblance among the people of Ohio, or of Illinois, or of Minnesota than there is among all the people of the United States collectively. From this point of view, then, the members of a component society have a rela- tively greater amount of resemblance. Let us, however, make another comparison. Forming as well as we can a mental image of the entire people of a certain town in a particular state, Massachusetts, for example, let us form another mental image as clear as possible of all the people of another town in the same state and of about the same dimensions. These two mental images we discover are very closely alike. That is to say, the people of these two towns, when each group is taken collectively, are seen to be of the same race and speech, to have each about the same propor- tion of farmers, tradesmen, mechanics, and professional men, to have the same religious beliefs, and the same political preferences. Nevertheless, in each town we find men of widely different political preferences, widely dif- ferent religious beliefs, most unlike occupations, and of different nationalities. We discover, then, that one com- ponent society, conceived in its entirety, is in type more like another of similar size and composition, and a part of the same integral society, than the individual members of either are like one another in character. As com- pared, then, with the amount of resemblance manifested by the population of an integral society, the members of a component society are alike ; as compared with the amount of resemblance between one component society 1 82 The Elements of Sociology and another, the members of a component society are unhke. This distinction may seem to be of a merely formal or theoretical significance, and to have little practical im- portance. Such, however, is not the truth. The dis- tinction has played a very great practical part in historical development. In what way this has happened will appear presently in the chapter on Civilization. One practical fact, moreover, must be pointed out now. Since each component group has the same char- acteristics as any other group of similar composition and dimensions, and lives in much the same way, it follows that component societies mutually aid each other only in power and mass, and not by a division of labour. The combination of two or more commonwealths in a federal union produces a more powerful state, precisely as the combination of two or more regiments of infantry pro- duces a more powerful fighting force. The advantage, moreover, is purely one of power and mass, and not of the sort that is derived by combining infantry with artil- lery and cavalry. The advantages due to a division of labour we owe entirely to the organization of constituent societies, to be described in the next chapter. A further and more reiined distinction has yet to be made. While two component societies of the same grade are more nearly alike in type than the individual members of either are in character, the individual members of either are more like one another than they are like the individual members of any other group. The proof of this is that so long as perfect freedom to go from place to place and to choose one's residence exists, families or individuals that find themselves out of sympathy with the population Cotnponeiit Societies 183 in which they happen to dwell are in the habit of going elsewhere and seeking more congenial neighbours. From this fact follows a sociological truth of great significance. In the growth of a component society, there may always be discovered a sifting and segregating process which is tending to bring together the potentially alike, to convert potential into actual resemblance, and to eliminate those inharmonious elements that cannot be reconciled with the prevailing type of character and habit. Consequently, in the component society, there is always found a persistent tendency towards homogeneity. With respect to mental and moral likeness, however, this ten- dency takes the form of a multiplication of the points of resemblance rather than of insistence upon any one point in particular. Forms of Component Societies. — From these general characteristics of component societies, we must now pass on to a more detailed description and analysis. In this description it will be necessary, for the sake of complete- ness, to include an account of savage and barbarian groups, as well as of the component societies of civilized states. Families are the simplest component societies. All human beings, from the lowest savages to civilized men, live in family groups. But these groups are by no means always of the kind that we are familiar with in civilized lands. The simplest form of the human family is a pair- ing arrangement of short duration. Among the Mincopis of the Andaman Islands, it is customary for the father to live with the mother until after their child is weaned, and then to seek another wife. A similar arrangement, somewhat more stable, but seldom of lifelong duration, is 184 The Elements of Sociology found among the Blackfellows of Australia, the northern Eskimo of Greenland, and the Amazonian Indians of Brazil. The polyandrian family, in which a woman has several husbands, is usually found among tribes that have passed beyond the lowest savagery into the somewhat higher stage of barbarism. There are two well-marked types of polyandry, known respectively as Tibetan and Nair. In Tibetan polyandry, so called because it has been most carefully studied in Tibet, the husbands are brothers. This is the commoner form. In Nair polyandry, which takes its name from a district of southeastern India, the woman's husbands are not related. Polyandry existed until recently in Ceylon, in New Zealand, in New Cale- donia, and elsewhere in the Pacific Islands. It is still found in the Aleutian Islands, and in many places in central and northern Asia. It was formerly common among the Indian tribes on the Orinoco and in the Canary Islands. Traces of it still remain among the Hottentots of South Africa, the Damaras, the mountain tribes of the Bantu, and the Hovas of Madagascar. Polyandry for- merly prevailed among the Picts and the Irish ; and there are abundant evidences of its former existence in other Aryan stocks, and throughout the Semitic and Hamitic races. When the Hawaiian Islands were first invaded by whites, a family organization was discovered which is called by its Hawaiian name, punaluan. It is constituted by the marriage of a group of brothers to a group of sis- ters. Each woman is a wife to all the men, and each man a husband to all the women. This form still exists among the Todas of India. Component Societies 185 The polygynous family, in which the husband has two or more wives or concubines, has been, and still is, even more general than polyandry. This form is often wrongly called polygamous, a term which means many marriages, and therefore really includes polyandry, or the plural mar- riage of one woman to two or more men, as well as polyg- yny, or the marriage of one man to two or more women. Polygyny depends upon the ability of the husband to support a large domestic establishment ; and it is there- fore practically confined to the relatively well-to-do classes in those communities that tolerate it. It usually happens, therefore, that in polygynous societies the poorer classes are either monogamous or polyandrian. Polygyny still flourishes in China and in Turkey, and only recently ceased to be a tolerated form of marriage in one of the territories of the United States. As societies have advanced in civilization, monogamy, or the marriage union of one man with one woman, has everywhere tended to displace polyandry and polygyny. Theoretically, a monogamous marriage is of lifelong dura- tion. Actually, however, divorce is nearly everywhere • allowed for various causes ; and the monogamous family is therefore sometimes unstable. Ethnical and Demotic Societies. — Component societies larger than families and composed of aggregations of families are of two types : the ethnical and the demotic. Ethnical societies are genetic aggregations. A real or fictitious blood kinship is their chief social bond. They are otherwise known as tribal societies, and include all communities of uncivilized races which maintain a tribal organization like those, for example, of the North Ameri- can Indians. Demotic societies, while in some degree 1 86 The Elements of Sociology products of genetic aggregation, are largely congregate associations. They are groups of people that are bound together by habitual intercourse, mutual interests, and cooperation, emphasizing their mental and moral resem- blance, and giving little heed to origins or genetic relation- ships. There still survive in various parts of the world savage and barbarian communities of such varied stages of social orgajiization that every form of social composi- tion may still be observed and comparatively studied in actually existing communities. Ethnical Societies. — There are three great classes of ethnical societies now in existence, the classification being based upon the degree of social composition to which these societies have attained. Hordes. — In the lowest class are hordes. This is a name applied to a small social group composed of a few families, and comprising not more than from 25 to 100 persons in all. No such horde is anywhere found living in absolute isolation. It is always in communication with other similar hordes of the same race, language, and cult- ure. Under the influence of excitement or fear, or to share an unusual food supply, or for the purpose of migra- tion, hordes may temporarily congregate in large numbers; but they do not permanently combine with one another under the leadership of a common chief for military or political action, and there is no organization of a religious or indus- trial character that binds them together in a larger whole. Examples of clusters of hordes not compacted into any larger organization are the Veddahs of Ceylon, the Min- copis of the Andaman Islands in the Bay of Bengal, the Australian Blackfellows, the Bushmen of South Africa, the Fuegians of Terra del Fuego, the Innuit of the north- Component Societies 187 eastern and northwestern coasts of North America, the Utes of the Rocky Mountains, and the Indians of the Amazonian forests. Tribes. — In the second class of ethnical societies are all communities in which several hordes have become welded into a larger and more definitely organized society, occupying a defined territory, speaking one language or dialect, and conscious of its unity, or in which a single horde, grown to many times its original size, has become differentiated and organized. The smallest united and organized society that is composed of lesser social groups that are themselves larger than single families, is the tribe. The word "tribe" is often used inaccurately. It should never be applied to a single horde, or even to a cluster of hordes. A tribe is always sufficiently organized to have a military leader or chief. Co7ife derations. — In the third class of ethnical societies are confederations of tribes united for warlike and some- times for other purposes, but still maintaining a social organization on the basis of kinship, and therefore not developed into civil or true political states. The famous federation of the Iroquois Indians in the state of New York, in which five, afterwards six, tribes were bound together in a powerful military league, was an excellent example of this grade of social composition among ethni- cal societies. The confederations of Prankish, Burgun- dian, and other German tribes that overran the Roman Empire were likewise good examples of the same grade of social composition. A coherent aggregation or con- federation of tribes is properly called a folk or ethnic nation. Metronymy and Patronymy. — It is necessary to distin- 1 88 The Elements of Sociology guish between two different types of ethnical organization, one of which is older than the other. The older may be named metronymic. In a metro- nymic group all the relationships are traced through mothers ; relationships on the father's side are ignored. Every metronymic social group is named from some class of natural objects, such as a species of plant or' animal, which is thought of as feminine in gender, and from which the group is supposed to have sprung. A class of objects so regarded is known among ethnologists as a totem, which is approximately its American Indian name. The totem is worshipped as possessing divine powers, and as maintaining a special protective oversight of the group ; and the group in turn protects the totem from harm. No animal or plant of the totemic class can be slain or used for food. The later type of social organization may be called the patronymic. Each patronymic group is named from a real or fictitious male ancestor, and relationships are traced in the male line through fathers. Each of these types, the metronymic and the patronymic, may be ob- served in an early and simple form, in which a single tribe is the largest social organization, and in a later, compound form, in which several tribes are confederated, and at length are consolidated into a folk. Metronymic Tribes. — By far the best organized metro- nymic tribes that have as yet been studied by ethnologists are the North American Indians. The typical Indian tribe is differentiated into exogamous totemic kindreds. That is to say, it is made up of groups, each of which traces relationships through mothers, and in each of which marriage between its own members is forbidden. Component Societies 189 Any marriage within the tribe must be between a man of one totemic kindred and a woman of some other kindred. This obligation to marry out of the kindred is called ex- ogamy. Each totemic kindred is nevertheless supposed to be distantly related to all the other totemic kindreds in the tribe. Each kindred has certain governing arrange- ments, including a council, a sachem or peace officer, and a war chief. Examples of metronymic tribes in other parts of the world are the two tribes of the Damaras in South Africa, the Congo tribes of West Africa, the Inland Negroes, the Kasias of Bengal, the Tahitians and Tongans of Polynesia, and the Hovas of Madagascar. Among examples of the metronymic folk or tribal nation, the Iroquois Confederation has already been men- tioned. Other examples have been the Tongans and the Malagasy. Patronymic Tribes. — There is no doubt that many of the patronymic tribal organizations were originally metro- nymic. Kinships were originally reckoned through moth- ers in Egypt, Arabia, and Palestine ; among the Germans ; and probably among the Greeks. Among well-known historical examples of patronymic organizations were those of the Hebrews, the Greeks, the Romans, and the Germans. The plan of organization did not differ from that of such metronymic tribes as the North American Indians, except in so far as it was affected by the practice of tracing relationships through fathers instead of through mothers. Each tribe was divided into kindred groups originally exogamous, although in course of time they tended to become endogamous, that is, to per- mit or require marriage between members of the same igo The Elements of Sociology kindred. In the Greek tribes, the kindred group was known as the 761-0'?, in the Roman tribe as the gens. In this book the word " gens " will be used in speaking of kindreds of the Roman tribe, the word "totem-kin" in speaking of metronymic kindred, and the word " clan " as a general term to include both totemic kindred and gentes. Among existing patronymic tribes and confederations of tribes are the Santals of the western mountains of Lower Bengal, the Ostyaks who inhabit the dreary northern country of the banks of the Obi, the Kaffirs, Bechuanas, and Hottentots of South Africa. Demotic Societies. — The composition of demotic socie- ties has already been incidentally described. The compo- nent societies of demotic communities or civilized states include families, neighbourhoods, hamlets or villages, par- ishes, towns, communes, cities, counties, provinces or de- partments, commonwealths, and federal nations. Origin of the Social Composition. — To a great extent all degrees of social composition beyond the family and the horde are products of the deliberative action of the social mind. The federation of tribes, or of states, is effected by the social mind under the pressure of external necessi- ties, especially those of defence and aggression. When integration has been accomplished, a certain internal ne- cessity obliges the social mind to maintain the union after its original purpose has been achieved. The consciousness of kind is the compelling power. The social mind puts its impress on each component group and moulds it into conformity with a certain type. Thus, in a given commu- nity, every variety of the family may have existed at the outset or may, from time to time, appear. But the social mind gives approval to some one type only, — for example, Component Societies 191 the monogamic, — and prohibits or discountenances all others. In like manner, in the commonwealth each com- ponent town, and in the federal state each component commonwealth, is compelled to conform to a type or standard. Thus the social composition is a psychological rather than a physical fact. So viewed, it may be described as an alliance, in each component group, of individuals who in many points are alike, but who tolerate in one another particular differences ; supplemented by an alliance of like types and a non-toleration of unlike types among component groups. This truth admits of a more fundamental statement in which the law of social composition is disclosed. While much actual resemblance of individuals to one another is necessary in the component group, and a greater actual resemblance of group types to one another is necessary throughout the social composition, a yet greater potential resemblance is necessary among both individuals and types. The social composition, then, is formed by the mutual attraction of the like, and non-toleration of the unlike ; except to the extent that the actually unlike are so far potentially alike as to admit of continuing assimila- tion. As the integration of the like proceeds, the social mind becomes aware of the process, deliberately approves it, and by all possible means furthers it. The social mind does this because it develops within itself a passion for homogeneity of type, and a judgment of the usefulness of integration or federation, as a defensive and offensive measure. We therefore may say that the social composition is produced by the reciprocal attractiveness of like for like. 192 The Elements of Sociology and is developed by the passion for homogeneity and in- tegration, through an effort to combine the potentially with the actually ahke, and to create a common type. The Law of Development of the social composition is : The social composition develops in proportion to the in- tensity and scope of the passion for homogeneity. PARALLEL STUDY Make shaded or coloured maps, showing the social composition of the United States and of the British Empire. CHAPTER XVni Constituent Societies Resemblance in Constituent Societies. — Any association organized for carrying on a particular activity, or for achieving some special social end, is a constituent society. This name is descriptive because such associations collec- tively, when harmoniously correlated so that they supple- ment one another's functions, are the social constitution of the community. Collectively, they carry on the greater part of the diversified social activities. Since the constit- uent society has a defined object in view, it is purposive in character. Its members are supposed to be aware of its object and to put forth effort for its attainment. Membership in a constituent society is not an incident of birth. New members are admitted into a purposive association only by their own consent and by the permis- sion of members. Where members seem to enter it by birth, as in a church which claims the children of mem- bers, it is not kinship, but a claim, consciously made and allowed, that is the true ground of the membership rela- tion. Therefore purposive associations have no indepen- dent existence. They depend on one another, and they presuppose the social composition. They are found only within a comprehensive autogenous or integral society. The facts of resemblance to be observed in the member- ship of a constituent society are precisely the opposite of those observed in the membership of a component society. o 193 194 The Elements of Sociology Component societies are more alike in type than their members are in character. The members of a constituent society are more aUke with reference to the purpose that unites them than are any two associations. The members of a given trade union, for example, with reference to the objects of organized labour are more alike than are any two equally accessible and efficient unions. Were this not so, the differing members would join other organiza- tions. No two churches resemble each other so closely in feeling and belief as do the actually cooperating mem- bers of any given church. The members of trade unions collectively, or of churches collectively, resemble each other more than trade unions in general resemble churches in general. The members of business corporations collec- tively or of scientific societies collectively resemble each other more closely than the scientific societies resemble the business corporations. Furthermore, of the three great modes of resemblance ; namely, kinship, mental and moral similarity, and poten- tial likeness, it is the first and the third that are chiefly prominent and most insisted on in the component society. It is the second, or actual mental and moral resemblance for the time being, that is most conspicuous and most insisted on in the constituent society. The component society, if relatively homogeneous in race and nationality, and if certain that its differing elements are undergoing assimilation to a common type, may tolerate much diver- sity of mental and moral traits, indeed must do so if it is to have a social constitution and a division of labour. The passion for homogeneity which it manifests is the desire to maintain a general homogeneity of blood, or at least to assimilate the different elements of nationality and Constituent Societies iqc speech to a common kind, and to mould the traditional beliefs to a common type. It is in matters of detail that it is willing to tolerate difference. In the constitu- ent society, it is precisely a matter of detail that is of chief concern. In constituent societies, therefore, like- ness of nationality and potential resemblance may, to a great extent, be ignored; but actual agreement of mind and character upon the specific object for which the association exists is required. Finally, as each association in the social constitution does a specific work, it may be said to have a social func- tion. From this point of view, purposive grouping may be described as functional association. The combination of purposive associations is, therefore, a coordination ; and their mutual aid is not limited by a mere increase of mass and power. It is effected also through a division of labour. Distribution and Forms of Constituent Societies. — In the lowest bands of savage men, there are no constituent societies. There is much cooperation, but there is no specialized cooperative group for systematically carrying on any particular activity. There is no business corpora- tion, no religious fraternity or church, no political party. In tribal societies there are slight beginnings of purposive association and a few simple constituent societies. The fact of chief significance to be observed in the study of the social constitution of tribal societies is the relation of the social constitution to the social composition. The constitu- ent societies are not quite distinct from the component societies as they are in civilized communities. On the contrary, they are often merely the component societies themselves acting in a particular way, at a particular time, for a particular purpose ; as if a village in a civilized coun- 196 The Elements of Sociology try should, on a special occasion, forget that it is a village — a component society — and resolve itself into a hunting party, or a public meeting, or a " committee of the whole," to celebrate a great event or to enjoy a festival. From the careful study of these facts of tribal society an impor- tant sociological truth is discovered ; namely, that in social evolution constituent societies grow out of and are differ- entiated from component societies through a specializa- tion of function. The Household. — The simplest example is found in the household, which is an organization nearly, but not quite, identical with the family. The family, a unit in the social composition, is a genetic aggregation. The household is a purposive group composed of those individuals who live together in a dwelling and cooperate in economic activity, obtaining and preparing food, and manufacturing clothing, tools, and utensils. Commonly, but not always, the mem- bers of a family and the members of a household are iden- tical. Individual members of a family may leave their own household group to dwell elsewhere ; and the house- hold may include members who are not of the family kin- dred. Therefore, while the family is a component society, the household, strictly speaking, is a constituent society or purposive association. The Clan. — Still more complicated in its functions is the clan, whether it be the totem-kin of a metronymic tribe or the gens of a patronymic tribe. The clan is in- cluded in the social composition. It is also an important part of the social constitution. It is a genetic organization because all its members, in reality or nominally, are de- scended from a common ancestor or ancestral group. Yet it never contains all of such descendants. If the clan is Constituent Societies 197 metronymic, it includes ail sons and daughters of the women born into the clan, but never the sons and daugh- ters of the men born into the clan, since descent is reck- oned through mothers, and marriage is exogamous, and the sons and daughters of the men, therefore, necessarily belong to the clans of their mothers. If the clan is patronymic, these conditions are reversed. It is easier for us to form an accurate idea of the patro- nymic than of the metronymic clan, because it is our own practice to trace descent through fathers. Let the student think of a particular family name, Johnson, for example, and remember that descendants of all male Johnsons bear the Johnson name ; but that the descendants of female Johnsons bear other family names — those of the men whom the female Johnsons marry. All persons, then, whether male or female, who bear, or before marriage have borne, the name of Johnson, may be said to belong to the Johnson clan. To form a true mental picture of the metronymic clan or totem-kin as it has existed in North American Indian tribes, the student must simply remember that names de- scend through mothers instead of through fathers ; and that all persons, male or female, who, by right of birth, bear the mother name, belong to the mother clan ; while all descendants in the male line bear the names of the mother clans into which the men have married. The clan of the savage tribe is thus an incomplete genetic association. As a component society, it is imper- fect because of its exclusion of one-half of a common an- cestry. This very imperfection as a component society, however, is the cause of its specialization of function as a constituent society. The clan is a purposive association 1 98 The Elements of Sociology that enforces rights and obligations, and cherishes the juridical tradition. The organization and functions of an Iroquois clan revealed the true characteristics of clan responsibilities and activities with great clearness. Each Iroquois clan had an elected sachem, whose duties were essentially those of a petty justice. He interpreted and administered the juridical traditions of the clan. The clan had also a council which discussed and determined all matters of policy. All clansmen and clanswomen had the right to vote in electing or deposing the officers of the clan. All were forbidden to marry within the clan. All were bound by the obligation to help and defend a fellow-clansman and to avenge his injuries. All shared in the right to bear the clan's totemic name, to inherit the property of deceased members, and to adopt strangers into the clan. All participated in the common religious observances, and all had rights in the common burial place. Other Tribal Associations. — In addition to the house- hold and the clan, other simple constituent associations are always to be found in tribal societies. Usually there are many secret associations which have religious func- tions. The tribe itself is a military organization, usually presided over by a council of chieftains who have been the successful leaders of war parties. The Constitution of Civil Societies. — In civil societies, the social constitution is completely developed and, in the main, is separated from the social composition, although the separation is never complete at all points. Moreover, in civil society, composition is subordinated to the social constitution ; while in tribal society the social constitu- tion is but incidental to the composition. Constituent Societies igg The chief purposive organization of civil society is the state, through which the social mind dominates the inte- gral community, prescribes forms and obligations to all minor purposive associations, and shapes the social com- position. Coordinating all activities and relations, the state maintains conditions under which all its subjects may live, as Aristotle said, "a perfect and self-sufficing life." Subordinate to the state, which touches every interest and action of its members, are private purposive associa- tions of narrower range and with more specialized func- tions. A French sociologist, M. Fouill6e, has said, "Imagine a great circle within which are lesser circles, combining in a thousand ways to form the most varied figures without overstepping the limits that enclose them ; this is an image of the great association of the state and of the particular associations that it embraces." The private associations are of^four classes. Those of one class are directly concerned with political interests. Independent of the government, they make governments and unmake them. The principal associations of this' class are the political parties. In a second class are pri-' vate organizations that assume juristicjunciiojis, usually, but not always, in violation of law. Such are vigilance committees, the Ku-Klux Klans, and the White Caps. In the third class are the various organizations of iiodus-^ trial soci ety which provide for the physical needs of life and adjust the changing relations of want and satisfaction. In the fourth class are all organizations that occupy them-- selves with matters of emotion, sentiment, imagination, thought, and conduct. These are the cultural associa- tions whose object is to foster mental and moral develop- 200 The Elements of Sociology ment and to promote happiness. They include the church and its allied organizations, philanthropic societies, scien- tific and educational associations, and innumerable organi- zations for social pleasure. Every purposive association has not only a function but also a composition and a constitution which are adapted to the performance of the function. In the composition of purposive associations, individuals are combined as persons and by categories ; for example, the categories of employer and employ^, in the compo- sition of an industrial group. The composition of associa- tions must be studied with reference to the common trait or interest that unites their members. The constitution of a purposive association is the plan of organization of its membership. The categories of in- dividuals which compose it are combined in accordance with some principle of subordination or coordination ; and the entire membership may be divided into sub-societies, bureaus, or committees. The organization of a voluntary purposive association has further to be described as secret or open. Secrecy and a rigorous exercise of authority over members are conspicuous features of purposive associations in savage tribes, and hardly less so in the great Oriental empires of China, Farther India, and Persia. In mediaeval days, they marked the social organization of western Europe ; but they are now exceptional there, and are rare in the United States if the whole number of organizations is taken into account. Perhaps no more interesting contrast than this exists in the social systems of America and China. Amer- ica is sociologically a vast plexus of free associations, most of which are perfectly open in their objects and methods. Constituent Societies 20 1 China is a social network of oath-bound secret societies, whose members are under threat of mutilation or death if they reveal the mysteries of their fraternities. There is probably some close connection between such a con- trast and the relative predominance of economic associa- tion in the West, and of religious, fraternal, and defensive association in the East. The State. — The composition of the state includes sub- jects and members. All who dwell within the territorial boundaries of an independent state are its subjects, and must obey its authority and laws. Not all subjects of the state, however, are in any true sense members of it, although it is a very common error to assume that they are. Only those who share in the consciousness of the state and who, by their loyalty and their willing aid, con- tribute to its authority and power, are truly members. The rebel and the traitor and the criminal are in the state ; but they are not of it. Therefore, in the composition of the state, individuals are combined by categories. These categories are : first, the subjects of authority ; second, the makers of moral authority ; third, the makers of legal authority ; and, fourth, the agents of legal authority. All who share in the con- sciousness of the state and freely contribute their thought and effort to it are makers of authority in a general sense, that is, of moral authority. It is this general or moral authority which is ultimately embodied in law and in the political organization. But not all who help to create moral authority actually help to convert it into legal forms. The makers of legal authority are those who legally ex- ercise the franchise, and, by their votes, authorize the legal acts of the state. The electors of the state are thus 202 The Elements of Sociology a very definite purposive association within an association that is larger and less definite ; and, as in all other pur- posive associations that are definite in form, new members are admitted to the electorate only by the consent of members. The agents of legal authority are those whom the electors authorize to put their will into final form and execution. Collectively, the agents of legal authority are the government. Constitution of the State. — In the constitution of the state, the most important subordinate bodies are the public corporations. The state first incorporates itself, defining its territory and its membership, describing its organiza- tion, and laying upon itself the rules of procedure by which it will systematically conduct its affairs. It next, in like manner, incorporates the local subdivisions of so- ciety, such as counties, townships, and cities, and assigns to each certain rights, duties, and powers. The remaining subordinate organizations of the state are found within the public corporations. They consist of parliamentary and legislative bodies to initiate the formulation of law; of courts to complete the formulation of law ; and of execu- tive bureaus, boards, and commissions. The Functions of the State are coextensive with human interests. This, at least, is what they are in fact. From time to time, political philosophy has attempted to prove that the functions of the state ought to be limited to a comparatively narrow sphere, leaving all other things to individual initiative and voluntary organization. The sociologist is concerned with the functions of the state, however, as they actually appear in existing communities and in history. Constituent Societies 203 The primary purpose of the state is to perfect social integration. To this end it maintains armies and carries on diplomacy to protect the nation against aggression, or to enlarge its territory and population ; and it maintains tribunals and police to enforce peace within its own borders. The first business of legislatures, courts, and executives is to combine, defend, and harmonize social | groups, classes, individuals, and interests. Inevitably, however, the performance of this work car- ^^ ries the state into economic activities. All modern states coin money. To a very great extent, credit and banking operations are controlled by governments. States inter- fere with values also by legislation and taxation, sometimes on a vast scale, as in the complicated protective tariff systems of the United States, Germany, and France. All , states put the chief means of communication namely, the J ■ postal system, under the management of the government. As yet, the railroad systems of the world are operated chiefly by private corporations. In all states, however, the business of railroads is being more and more closely regulated by the government ; and in many parts of Eu- rope railroads have become government property. Not less inevitable is it that states should assume cult- ural functions. The members of the state see that social cohesion is a spiritual union rather than an external com- pulsion, and that it depends upon the ideas of individuals. They believe it to be as necessary to guide the minds of men as it is to suppress crime and insurrection. Rightly or wrongly, they believe also that the guidance will be inadequate or pernicious unless the state itself is the su- preme guide. Every state, therefore, maintains either^ institutions of religion, like the Greek church of Russia, ) 204 The Elements of Sociology or an elaborate system of education, like that of the United States or of France. Occasionally a state, like England or Prussia, succeeds in maintaining side by side a state religion and a state instruction ; but it is generally recog- nized that such a policy creates a condition of unstable equilibrium. Every state in these days recognizes obliga- tions to literature, science, and art, and undertakes to dis- charge them by supporting universities, and such insti- tutions as the French Academy and the numerous scientific bureaus of the United States, and by maintaining libraries, museums, and galleries of art. Voluntary Associations. — The assumption that the state has only functions of defence and arbitration is not more erroneous than the common assumption that voluntary organization has only economic and cultural functions. Voluntary organization is coextensive with every mode of human activity. Political Associations. — The most important of all voluntary organizations are political associations. The state, so far from being the only political organization, could not exist in a free or republican form were there not voluntary and private political associations. In the composition of political associations, men of like views and like interests are allied. It is a great mistake, however, to suppose that a purely intellectual agreement upon specific matters of common interest is the chief bond of union in a political party. The real bond is the con- sciousness of kind in its entirety, including sympathies, instincts, agreement in beliefs, and other forms of emotion and prejudice that unite men in political action. Most men adhere to the political party in which they have been \reared, not from conviction, but from liking. A monarch- Constituent Societies 205 ist knows that another monarchist is in instinct like himself, and that a republican is not. Their differences are far more in matters of sympathy than in matters of opinion. No one fact in American history is so significant as the persistency with which Federalists, Whigs, and Republi- cans have contemplated themselves as a different kind of beings from Democrats. Opinion and interest are never- theless important factors of political association. No political party is as homogeneous as it would be if the sympathetic and sentimental elements of the conscious- ness of kind were its sole animating power. In every political association there are men of unlike natures who are united by identity of opinions or by community of interests. The heterogeneity of political association is further increased by the necessary combination of leader- ship and following. The constitution of voluntary political associations assumes the forms of secret societies, non-secret but exclusive clubs, and open associations. Secret societies and cabals are characteristic of states in which liberty is imperfectly developed, and in which, therefore, all criticism of the government and all private initiative are dangerous. Political agitation in Russia and in the Danubian states to-day is carried on largely through secret societies as it was in France during the Revolution and in England dur- ing the seventeenth century. In lands where freedom of discussion is upheld by law, secret association in politics is resorted to only by criminals, revolutionists, and other men who fear to fight in the open. The anarchistic agitation in Europe and in America has naturally been conducted through secret societies. Non-secret but exclusive clubs, combining political with 2o6 The Elements of Sociology social functions, have long been a form of voluntary polit- ical organization, and have at times played an important part in public affairs. The Union League Clubs that were founded in the large American cities during the Civil War have been good examples of this kind of political organiza- tion. In countries that enjoy freedom under constitutional guarantee, however, the active work of politics is chiefly carried on by those open associations, called political parties, to which all voters desiring in good faith to join them are welcomed. The great political parties of Eng- land and the United States are the largest, they are also the most mobile and efficient of voluntary organizations. Each includes among its adherents men of every degree of mental evolution, of almost every nationality, and of every pursuit. Each is so perfectly distributed over a vast area that it counts voters in every hamlet of the national domain. It is exceptional when either of the leading parties of the United States fails in a presidential election to poll one-quarter of the total vote of any commonwealth. A great political party stands for a general way of look- ing at public affairs, and of dealing with them, rather than for any single interest. It is controlled more by class feeling than by political philosophy ; and inasmuch as the interests of a class do not remain unchanged throughout a long term of years, a great political party is never continu- ously identified with a particular policy, although there is a widespread popular belief that it is. The natural nucleus of one great political party in every country is the middle class of business men engaged in manufactures and com- merce. The interests of commercialism and capitalism always dictate the policy of the party to which the busi- Constituent Societies 207 ness classes belong. The opposing party is quite as naturally constituted by an alliance of the land-owning, professional, and wage-earning classes. These groupings, however, form only the core of each great political party. Only the members of a political party that are bound to it by the sympathetic and instinctive elements of the consciousness of kind, in other words, by class instinct and prejudice, can be depended upon to vote its ticket under all vicissitudes. The men who join it from conviction or from interest leave it from time to time as their interests change or as the party fails to support the policy which they regard as right. Therefore, while parties are relatively enduring, majorities are the most unstable products of human combination. Second in importance only to the great political parties, are the minor parties, that work for the achievement of particular ends. Since by their very nature the great parties care less for principles or measures than for class interests, principles and measures have to be forced upon them from without. Consequently, two or three parties with one idea apiece are always in the field. They seldom win an election ; but they often gain a hearing and con- cessions. They spring up suddenly, grow with astonish- ing rapidity, and as quickly melt away. Such were the Anti-Masonic Party of 1831, the Liberty Party of 1840, and the Free-Soil Party of 1848, which were merged into the Republican Party of i860, the Know-Nothing Party of 1856, the Prohibition Party of 1872, the Greenback Party of 1876, and the People's Party of 1892. The evils of partisanship and of corruption in legislation, and the spoils system of administration, have called into existence numerous associations to promote patriotism and 2o8 The Elements of Sociology to secure honesty in governmental affairs. Best known among these are the Civil Service Reform Association and its branches, and important organizations in most of the great cities for promoting local municipal reforms. In addition to all the foregoing there are innumerable political associations to promote particular interests, to protect particular classes, or to procure particular legis- lation. Some of them are permanently organized ; but most of them are short lived. The functions of voluntary political organizations may be revolutionary or legal. In the nature of things, revo- lution can be achieved only through voluntary associations. If not so obvious, it is just as certain that a republican form of government can be maintained only through the tireless and infinitely varied activity of voluntary political associations that keep within the bounds of law. They initiate legislation, they criticise administration, they achieve reforms. Every one understands that govern- ments do not criticise and reform themselves. It is, perhaps, not so generally known that, in modern times, governments initiate but little legislation. A few impor- tant measures are proposed by cabinet ministers, govern- ors, and presidents ; but more are instigated by voluntary associations whose agents draft bills, procure their intro- duction in Legislature, Congress, or Parliament, and watch them through every stage of progress to final enactment or rejection. Without such associations, there could be no republic in the true sense of the word. The alternative is bureaucracy or absolute monarchy. Juristic Associations. — Private associations that assume juristic functions are of two classes. The largest class is composed of lawless organizations Constituent Societies 209 that spring into existence in the absence of legally con- stituted courts, or when courts fail to do their duty in protecting property and life. It is usually the lawless and violent element in the population that enters into the composition of illegal or non-legal juristic organizations. The other class of private juristic associations includes organizations to arbitrate disputes or to adjust pecuniary claims. Voluntary boards of arbitration are not infre- quently established to deal with disputes of an essentially juristic character between employer and employed. In this class of organizations, also, must be included legally incorporated associations whose function is to promote the enforcement of law in respect to particular classes of interests. Among such are various organizations for pre- venting cruelties to children or to animals, for enforcing temperance legislation, sanitary laws, and municipal ordi- nances. Economic Associations. — Private economic associations, as a rule, are composed of individuals of like ability and training. In economic organization less than elsewhere in society do the sympathetic, instinctive, and emotional elements of the consciousness of kind determine alliances. Intellectual agreement in notions of utility is the control- hng principle. Yet even in economic organization race and national prejudices have their influence. In the United States they are the cause of the refusal of white artisans in both the North and the South to work with negroes, and the practical exclusion of the negro from mechanical trades. The categories of employer and employed do not usually enter into the composition of the same association. They are combined in industrial groups, which unite two or more 2IO TJie Elements of Sociology associations ; as, for example, in a manufacturing group that includes a partnership or a corporation as the entre- preneur, and members of several trade unions as em- ployes. The constitution of private economic associations takes the form of partnerships, corporations, and miscellaneous associations not incorporated. Partnerships, with an un- limited liability of each partner and a limited capital, are adapted only to small enterprises. To the evolution of the corporation with its limited liability of the individual stockholder, its control of capital by the massing of indi- vidual accumulations, and its command of the services of men of superior ability, we owe the gigantic industrial undertakings of modern times. Of unincorporated associations with economic functions, the most important are the trusts and labour organizations. Practically every industry is controlled or affected by combinations that attempt to regulate production and prices. Some of these combinations are mere agreements, while others are somewhat elaborate organizations, with power to impose strict conditions upon individual pro- ducers, and to enforce penalties against disobedience. Among wage-earners' associations, the American Fed- eration of Labour is a good example of complex yet flexible and eificient organization. The study of the functions of private economic associa- tion falls within the special social science of Political Economy. The functions include the production of goods in agriculture, mining, and manufacturing, by means of industrial groups that range in complexity from the com- bination of the individual employer and his workmen to the association of great corporations and their thousands Constituent Societies 2 1 1 of organized employes acting as a unit. They include also the transportation and exchange of goods by means of railways, steamships, and express companies, and by mercantile partnerships and corporations ; the equilibration of values through ordinary markets, through such special markets as produce and stock exchanges, and through banking organizations; the accumulation of capital and the provision against want by means of institutions for saving, insurance, and mutual aid ; and, finally, economic aggression and defence, through the mechanism of trusts and trade unions. Cultural Associations. — In the composition of private cultural associations, there is an alliance of persons of like beliefs, tastes, and natures. It is usually the professed purpose of cultural associations to make belief or taste the condition of membership ; but this ideal is never realized. The sympathetic elements of the consciousness of kind are always present to unite some whose beliefs differ and to sunder some whose beliefs agree. The constitution of cultural associations requires no special description. It takes the form either of corporations or of unincorporated societies, secret or open. The functions of cultural asso- ciation are religious, philanthropic, scientific and educa- tional, aesthetic and pleasurable. The church as a voluntary organization may exist in a country like England that has an established religion ; but it can attain its complete development only in a country where state and church are completely separated, as in the United States. The religious population of a country is organized also in a bewildering number of special associations. These include the monastic orders and societies of the Roman 212 The Elements of Sociology Catholic church, and the missionary and other societies of the Protestant denominations. To a great extent, private philanthropic organizations have assumed that care of the unfortunate which formerly was exercised by the church. They are as many and as varied as human ills ; and no complete enumeration of them has ever been made. Among those especially worth studying are Charity Organization Societies, the National Conference of Charities and Correction, the National Prison Congress, and the university and other social settle- ments modelled more or less closely on the Toynbee Hall experiment which was begun in East London in 1885. Large as is the field occupied by government scientific bureaus, state universities, and public schools, fully one- half of all scientific and educational activity is carried on through private organizations ; namely, the national and local learned bodies, the private schools, and the denomi- national colleges. In the United States, every branch of research, from physics, chemistry, and astronomy to philol- ogy and folk-lore, is fostered by an association. A large majority of the 451 degree-conferring colleges and univer- sities are private foundations ; and the larger part of their nearly g 100,000,000 of productive funds has been given to them by individuals. Fraternal societies usually combine mutual aid with social pleasure, as do for example the Free Masons and the Odd Fellows. Associations for the promotion of art or music often serve no other end. Social clubs some- times become active political organizations. But in gen- eral, the chief objects of all these organizations are personal culture and social enjoyment. Generalizations. — Certain generalizations may be de- Constituent Societies 213 rived from the foregoing- account of the social constitu- tion. The most important of these has been disclosed in the discovery that governments and private organizations duplicate each other's functions. In the social constitu- tion, either public or private associations can, at need, assume any social function. In times of danger the gov- ernment can operate ileets and railways, build bridges, manufacture goods, and transact financial operations on a vast scale because, in times of security, it often does such things on a small scale. In times of anarchy or revolu- tion, private associations can protect life and property, administer justice, and organize a provisional government ; because in times of peace they initiate legislation, watch the enforcement of law, and hold governments to their work. This generalization is of practical no less than of scien- tific value. It is the one adequate principle by which to judge the pretensions of socialism and of individualism. The socialists are right when they say that, if it were necessary or desirable, the state could carry on all social undertakings through public agencies. The individualists are equally right when they say that society could exist and, after a fashion, could achieve its ends without authori- tative government. Socialists and individualists are both wrong when they suppose that either of these things will happen under a normal social evolution. The actual distribution of functions between public and private agencies is a varying one. It changes with chang- ing circumstances. So long as conditions are normal, movements that tend, on the one hand, to increase public activity or, on the other hand, to enlarge the opportunities for private initiative, are self-limiting. They are tenden- 214 The Elements of Sociology cies towards equilibrium. Whatever belittles the state or destroys belief in its power to perform any kind of social service, whatever impairs the popular habit of achieving ends by private initiative and voluntary organization, en- dangers society and prevents the full realization of its ends. Another generalization from the description of the social constitution is that the various organizations of society are not only correlated, but are also subordinated, some to other organizations, and all to a general end. The supreme end of society in general is the protection and perfecting of sentient life. The end of human society is the development of the rational and spiritual personality of its members. Only the cultural associations are immediately concerned in this function. Educational institutions, reli- gious, scientific, ethical, and aesthetic organizations, and polite society act for good or ill directly upon the individ- ual. To these the economic, the legal, and the political organization are, in a functional sense, subordinate. In a functional sense, they exist for the sake of cultural organi- zation and activity. The social mind has always perceived this truth, and by means of its sanctions has endeavoured to mould the social constitution into accordance with it. Associations and relationships are fostered or abolished with a view to cultural no less than to protective ends. For both ends specialization and a division of labour are necessary. Therefore, while society maintains the homo- geneity of its composition, it is obliged to tolerate and to promote differentiation in its constitution. Psychologi- cally, therefore, the social constitution is the precise opposite of the social composition. It is an alliance, in each simple association, of individuals who, in respect to Constituent Societies 215 the purpose of the association, must be mentally and morally alike, but who in all other respects may be unlike ; supplemented in the relations of associations to one an- other and to integral society by toleration and coordina- tion of the unlike. Law of Development. — Still further generalizing, we may state the law of development of the social constitution as follows : The development of the social constitution depends upon the growth of an appi-eciation of the value of variety or unlikeness in society. The social constitution, therefore, is the result of a desire to combine variety with homogeneity in a complex unity. PARALLEL STUDY Make an analytical table, showing the social constitution of a famil- iar local community. Read Bryce's " American Commonwealth," Part VI. From Webb's " History of Trade Unionism " prepare a sketch of labour organizations. CHAPTER XIX The Character and Efficiency of Organization Coercion and Liberty. — The forms of social organization, whether component or constituent, whether public or pri- vate, whether incorporated or unincorporated, are either created by social authority or are permitted by it. Not only so, but any social organization may be an agency for the transmission of social control to its individual members. On the one hand, it may bring to bear upon them a social pressure to which they must yield, a social command which they must perforce obey. On the other hand, it may allow them the utmost freedom of thought and action, may even be a means of defending their indi- vidual liberties. In these features, we discover the general character of the social organization of a community. Organization is on the whole coercive, or it is on the whole liberal. Only one constituent society, namely, the state, em- bodies and manifests the entire authority and social control of the community. Lesser constituent societies, such as ecclesiastical, industrial, and fraternal associations embody the social control that is created by the social natures and relations of their own members, or bring to bear a social control delegated to them by the state. At most, however, this is very much less than the original and complete social control of the state itself. Whether 216 The Character and Efficiency of Organization 217 complete or partial, however, the social control expressed through any organization may have the coercive or the liberal character. Sovereigiity. — Social control, manifesting itself in the authoritative organization of society as the state, and act- ing through the organs of government, is sovereignty. As otherwise defined by writers on political science, sovereignty is an original and independent power to com- pel obedience. The word " original," as used in this definition, means underived from any external power or authority ; and the word " independent " means indepen- dent of any other state, nation, or ruler. The sovereignty of a state may reside in a personal monarch, in a council, group, or class, or in the people. In a certain sense, it always resides in the people, inasmuch as a governing council or a personal sovereign would be helpless but for those sentiments and habits of obedient loyalty in the people which oblige them to respect the command of the monarch or the law made by the council. The apparent inconsistency here presented is happily disposed of in the analysis made by an English jurist, Mr. A. V. Dicey, who distinguishes between legal sover- eignty and politicar sovereignty. Legal sovereignty is the legally rightful power to com- pel obedience according to the existing governmental system, which the community has accepted and formed the habit of obeying. This legal sovereignty may reside in a personal monarch, in a parliamentary body, or, as in the United States, in the people acting in a constitution- amending capacity. Political sovereignty is the actual power to compel obe- dience, by either legal or revolutionary means. It is the 2i8 The Elements of Sociology power to make governments and to unmake them; to organize the state or to disorganize it. Sovereignty in this sense, in other words, the real as distinguished from any nominal social control, resides in the entire body of the people. It has always resided there, and under no circumstances can it reside elsewhere. The Source of Liberty. — From what has been said in the chapters on The Social Mind, it is evident that social control, expressing itself either as sovereignty — the will of the whole people manifesting itself through forms of government — or expressing itself in those lesser degrees felt by the members of non-governmental associations, may be so coercive that no individual can successfully oppose it. If, therefore, the individual actually enjoys a high degree of liberty, it is because the social mind per- mits him to do so. It is because the sovereign state cre- ates for him immunities and protects him in the enjoyment of them. This is a truth of Sociology and of political science which the uneducated man always finds much difficulty in comprehending. It seems to him that his liberty is born with him ; that it is a matter of inherent right, and subject wholly to his own will. This is because he fails to realize how resistless is the power of his fellow- men over all his activities, and even over his life itself, if they choose to put that power in operation. If, at any time, he is so unfortunate as to fall under their suspicion, to be taken by them when they have resolved themselves into an angry mob, and to discover that he is utterly helpless in their hands if they choose to deal with him by the methods of lynch law, he then realizes that his liberty is not the creature of his own will, and that the liberty which any man actually enjoys, he owes to the The Character and Efficiency of Organization 219 common feeling and common judgment of the community that individual liberty is, on the whole, a good thing for all. The Laws of Liberty. — From these considerations it is obvious that the character of all social organization, in- cluding the state, and the specific character of any partic- ular social organization of the lesser sort, is determined by the nature and development of the social mind. It is plain to begin with that we might expect to see far more intolerance of individual liberty, far more co- ercion in general, in a community whose like-mindedness is of the sympathetic, passionate, emotional sort, than in one in which intelligence predominates. We should ex- pect also to see a much higher development of arbitrary authority in the community in which belief, formal like- mindedness, and habits of conformity predominate over discussion and rational public opinion. These presup- positions are wholly warranted by observation and histori- cal induction. The First Law may be stated as follows : Social organization is coercive in those communities in which sympathetic and formal like-mindedness strongly pre- dominate over rational like-mindedness. Conversely, social institutions are liberal, allowing the utmost freedom of thought and action to the individual only in those communi- ties in which there is a high development of rational hke- mindedness. A second law is of not less importance. A community may be extremely heterogeneous as a result either of con- quest or of a rapid immigration of alien elements. In this case, like-mindedness of any kind may be very slight. Under these circumstances, the social organization is co- ercive. 220 The Elements of Sociology In analyzing the mental development of the socius, attention was directed to the power of a strong mind to influence or fascinate minds of less personal force. It was pointed out also that the fear-inspiring modes of impression exist chiefly where the personal elements in combination are much unlike ; and that familiarity and re- semblance always tend to diminish fear. In heterogeneous communities, it is always some form of personal leader- ship, either that which grows out of fear or that which grows out of fascination, that is the nucleus of organiza- tion. Men who are not sympathetic, who do not under- stand each other, who therefore cannot arrive at intellectual agreement, obviously cannot cooperate of their own free ini- tiative. Their cooperation in political, industrial, or religious matters is possible only if, in their inability to organize themselves, a leader is forthcoming who can organize them. The more heterogeneous they are, the more certainly will their obedience spring from fear, and under such circum- stances the more certainly will his rule be coercive. This principle has always been clearly exemplified in ecclesiastical polity. That most democratic of organiza- tions, the Congregational polity, has never been successful in a heterogeneous population, which can be organized only in an authoritative system. In like manner, political democracy invariably evolves the tyrant or the boss, if the population becomes extremely heterogeneous. In Ameri- can cities, the old forms of deliberative government have broken down with the influx of foreign immigration ; and we have adopted the theory that cities are business cor- porations for which even by-laws and ordinances should be made by state legislatures, and in which administration should be the one-man power of an elected dictator. The Character and Efficiency of Organization 221 Without the highly developed consciousness of kind of a relatively homogeneous population, there can be no suc- cessful experiment of democracy. The Second Law. — Generalizing these facts, it appears that the forms of social organization, whether political or other, in their relation to the individual, are necessarily co- ercive if, in their membership, there is great diversity of ki7td and great inequality. Conversely, institutions or other forms of social organization can be liberal, conceding the utmost freedom to the individual if, in the population, there is fraternity and, back of fraternity, an approximate mental and moral equality. The facts which the foregoing laws express are in- volved, and they always complicate or modify one another. Thus, in the heterogeneous community, such like-minded- ness as exists is for the most part of the sympathetic kind ; to a less extent of the formal kind ; and least of all intellectual or rational. This is because, as was pointed out in the chapters on The Social Mind, men differ less in feeling than in intelligence ; and this of course is in the highest degree true of individuals of differing races or nationalities. Men of every race are alike subjects of sensation, of physical pain, and of the primary emotions of fear, hate, and affection ; while comparatively few men can arrive at perfect intellectual agreement upon compli- cated problems of either theoretical or practical interest. Consequently, in the heterogeneous population, not only does the unlike-mindedness there existing necessi- tate coercive forms of organization in the manner that has been explained, but also such like-mindedness as there is, taking the sympathetic and conventional form, creates coercive rather than liberal types of organization. 222 The Elements of Sociology Efficiency of Organization. — In its higher development, all social organization exists for a purpose or end. The purpose may not be consciously thought of by its members at the outset. The cooperating group may at iirst be a mere accidental arrangement. But if it proves useful in any way, and the utility is perceived, the organization is deliberately cherished and perfected for the sake of the end to which it ministers. In the highly developed societies of civilized men, the entire social organization, including the component societies, has thus been reflected upon by the social mind, and has been made purposive in character. The lesser constituent societies have most varied and highly special objects in view; the general object of in- tegral society is the protection and perfection of life, and especially the development of the rational and spiritual personality of mankind ; consequently, all social organ- ization must be studied by the sociologist, not only from the standpoint of its plan or system, and of its character as more or less liberal, but also from the standpoint of its efficiency as a means to the attainment of the special and general ends to promote which it exists. Organization must Benefit the Organized. — The general condition upon which the efficiency of social organization depends by implication is stated when it is said that any association exists for the protection and development of the lives of its individual members. Since an organization depends upon the loyal and earnest cooperation of its members, its efficiency depends upon their devotion to it. Their devotion, in turn, depends upon their conviction that, in the long run, they actually secure the benefits, including all possible pleasures and utilities of association. The Character and Efficiency of Organizatio7t 223 Putting it in briefer terms we may say that, to be efficient, all social organizations must be regarded by tlie organized as beneficial to themselves. Simple and obvious as this truth is, no principle in human affairs is more frequently forgotten, and no prin- ciple has been more frequently neglected in governmental policy. We have seen that nearly every social organization has a constitution of some kind ; it has either a leader, or a governing council, or administrative bureaus, which directly carry on its activities supposedly for the benefit of the general membership. The individuals who compose these inner governing circles are prone to forget that they are the servants of the entire association. Busied with the detail of governmental work, they easily fall into the habit of identifying themselves with the interests and ends of the association ; and then they easily mistake themselves for the association, and forget the interests of their fellow- members. Thus there is always within an association a tendency to make it exist not for the benefit of its entire membership, but for the benefit of its governing individ- J uals. Even where this tendency is held in subordination, there is always danger that the governing circle may mis- take its own ideas of what is politic, just, or wise in admin- istration for the ideas of the general membership, and so create divisions and finally disruption. Illustrations of these truths may be drawn from every form of social organization. They have been most con- spicuously demonstrated in such bodies as trade unions, business corporations, ecclesiastical societies, and political parties. The entire history of the Protestant church 224 '^^'■^ Elements of Sociology could be written from this point of view. It was because the governing hierarchy of the Roman Catholic church failed sufficiently to regard the convictions and the well- being of the entire body of its membership, that the Protestant schism began. It was in like manner because the great established churches, namely, the Lutheran in Germany and the Episcopalian in England, failed to study the convictions and the interests of their member- ship that further dissensions arose, and the Non-conform- ist bodies came into existence. Of all examples, however, that history affords of the great truth that organization must be for the benefit of the organized, the colonial policy of the European nations has been the most striking. Strange as it may seem, in the early days of colonial policy not the slightest attention was ever given to the practical truth that colonies should be governed for the benefit of the colonial population. Statesmen had but one thought, which was to make colonies a source of wealth and power to the mother country. Spain, England, and France all pursued the fatuous policy of extorting the utmost from their colonial possessions in utter disregard of the economic and moral interests of the colonies ; and one after another these nations lost the loyalty of their colonial peoples, and ultimately the colonial territories themselves. England alone learned the lesson of this experience ; and, as a result 9f the great awakening of her political intelligence which followed the loss of her American colonies through the Revolutionary War, she perceived that henceforward she must retain her remaining colonies by making them feel that they were component parts of the great British Empire, sharing in all its interests, and in full measure The Character and Efficiency of Organization 225 participating in its benefits. This policy she has faith- fully and consistently pursued to the present day, with results of colonial loyalty which all the world knows. Moral Qualities. — If, then, to be efficient, social or- ganization must be regarded by the organized as obviously beneficial to themselves, it further follows that efficiency depends upon the existence in the community of so much honesty, unselfishness, and loyalty that enough men can be found to work faithfully and unselfishly for the gen- eral good, sincerely endeavouring so to administer the affairs of the organization that employs them, or of the government in which they serve, that the general good rather than their own individual interests shall ever be kept in view as the supreme end. No community can hope to have an efficient social organization if the general moral level of its individuals is so low that they can think only of their personal ambitions, and strive only to use their official positions for their personal advancement. The entire social organization of a community is endan- gered when public office ceases to be a public trust, when votes are bought and sold, when legislatures are bribed, and when administrative business is deranged and cor- rupted by unworthy means. Recognition of Expert Knowledge. — Finally, the effi- ciency of social organization depends upon a general recognition of the vital importance of expert knowledge. The entire social constitution is an expression of the great principle of the economic advantage of a division of labour. Each little association has for its special function the per- formance of some specific kind of social work which could not be as well done by any other group of men. Obvi- ously, this plan can be fully and successfully carried out Q 226 The Elements of Sociology only if the division of labour is real, and not merely nominal or a pretence. In like manner, in the constitution of each larger society and of the government, each particular kind of work must be performed by those who have a special aptitude for it, if there is to be any real advantage in maintaining a highly specialized social constitution at all. At the head of every branch of affairs must be the men who are more competent to deal with them than anybody else is. This condition of things can be secured only if the community has some comprehension of what expert know- ledge is, and is determined to secure it. In order to secure it, however, it is absolutely necessary that men shall be appointed to office solely on the ground of their fitness for the work that they are expected to do. If they are ap- pointed because they are personal relatives of men in superior authority, or because, as political workers, they have helped to elect to ofifice the men who appoint them, or because, irrespective of any abilities that they possess, they have long been devoted to some particular clique or party, it is certain that the efficiency of the social organi- zation must suffer. Demoralization reaches its extreme limit when the prac- tice of appointment to office for other reasons than fitness for the work to be done becomes an organized system of distributing offices as the spoils of the victory over oppo- nents in an election. The movement which is popularly known as civil service reform, is the protest against all such plans of corrupting the public service in the interests of a party or a governing class. It is an organized insist- ence that fitness, in the sense of expert knowledge, demon- strated by the successful performance of duty in subordinate The Character and Efficiency of Organisation 227 positions, shall be the sole ground of advancement to posi- tions of larger responsibility. Results of Organization. — The final tests of the efficiency of social organization are to be looked for in the results which organization brings about in the economic, intellect- ual, and moral life of the community, and especially in the development of an improving type of human person- ality. Wealth. — Perhaps no other one result of a highly per- fected social organization is so conspicuous as is the in- crease of wealth. Of all the conditions upon which the growth of wealth depends, probably no other one is so important as the capacity of the people to organize them- selves in innumerable forms of association for carrying on industrial and commercial activity. Cooperation and a division of labour can transform the most forbidding ele- ments into prosperity. Where these are lacking, no wealth of natural resources, no accumulations of capital, no possession of ingenious machinery will enable a com- munity to amass riches, or even to live in material com- fort. Nothing can be more pitiful than a state which is able to purchase improved mechanisms — battleships and artillery, for example — from a more ingenious nation than itself, and is then unable to handle them to advan- tage because of a total incapacity for social organization and discipline. Among the most important practical studies to be made in Sociology will be one to ascertain the relations between sociological and economic poverty. Whenever a commonwealth, whose people are impover- ished and burdened with mortgages and other debts, is observed to appeal continually to its government to enact laws of a socialistic nature, or to undertake industrial and 228 The Elements of Sociology commercial enterprises for the benefit of a suffering popu- lation, the first inquiry made should ascertain whether that commonwealth is not really suffering from sociologi- cal poverty — from a certain incapacity or lack of enter- prise to organize those varied forms of voluntary association by which, in other communities, great economic activities are succesfully maintained. The Diminution of Fear. — Next to the increase of wealth, the most important result of efficient social organ- ization is the diminution of fear and of superstition, the decline of emotionalism, and the corresponding increase of discussion and rationality. We may seem here to be reasoning in a circle, since it has already been affirmed that the most efficient social organization depends for its existence upon a high de- velopment of rational like-mindedness. This is quite true ; but it is not less true that if, as a result of a cer- tain existing degree of rationality, the social organization is relatively efficient, the efficiency will react upon intelli- gence, further enlarging and developing it. The process is analogous to that of physiological life, in which the ability to use nerves and muscles in obtaining food is due to the assimilation of food previously obtained, and, in its turn, insures new supplies of food, which, when enjoyed and assimilated, restore and increase the ability to obtain. All that we intend to affirm is that rational like-mindedness and efficiency of social organization con- tinually react upon one another, each furthering the development of the other. When men live in isolation, cut off from the coopera- tion of their fellows, they are relatively helpless ; and, when helpless, they easily become the prey of fear. The The Character and Efficiency of Organization 229 helplessness is not only in their relation to enemies of their own species, but even more in their relation to the physical elements. Against fire and flood and tempest, the individual man has very little power. When man is helpless and subject to fear, he is also the victim of ignorance and of superstition. The know- ledge that the single individual can acquire in his short lifetime is infinitesimal as measured by the limitless domain of nature and of history — the totality of things to be known. Only as his own discoveries can be sup- plemented by communicated knowledge, obtained by his fellow-beings, can he have any real command over nature and life. As a creature of superstition, of ignorance, and of fear, man is almost wholly a creature of emotion ; rational deliberation plays but little part in his conduct. Conse- quently, populations in which there is no systematic com- munication, no continual exchange of knowledge, and no discussion of principles, are subject to impulsive social action. They seldom exhibit a calm and firm restraint of passion. They know little of that deliberately planned conduct which is the product of rational like-mindedness. An efficient social organization transforms these condi- tions. Disciplined cooperation establishes security ; sys- tematic communication diffuses knowledge and stimulates critical inquiry. Knowledge and investigation give com- mand over natural forces. Those nations in which social organization is highly developed are emancipated from superstition and from fear ; they are able to rise supe- rior to emotion and impulse ; they believe in scientific investigation ; they have habits of calm and disciplined action. 230 The Elements of Sociology Accordingly we have the law of mental emancipation, as follows : Feai', superstition, emotionalism, and i^npulsive action diminish with the evolution of efficient social organization. The Supreme Eesult of efficient social organization, and the supreme test of efficiency, is the development of the socius, or the personality of the social man. If the man himself becomes less social, less rational, less manly; if he falls from the highest type, which seeks self-reaHza- tion, to one of those lower types that manifest only the primitive virtues of power; if he becomes non-social or anti-social — the social organization, whatever its apparent merits, is failing to achieve its supreme object. If, on the contrary, the man is becoming ever better as a human being, more rational, more sympathetic, with an ever- broadening consciousness of kind — then, whatever its apparent defects, the social organization is sound and efficient. PARALLEL STUDY Read Burke's " Thoughts on the Present Discontents " ; Proal's " Political Crime " ; and the annual reports of the American Civil Service Reform Association. CHAPTER XX The Early History of Society Zobgenic Association. — Here and there in the foregoing pages, mention has been made of a process of evolution in human society. It has been assumed that social ideas and social organizations, as we have known them, have grown from simpler beginnings. As a result of the la- bours of biologists, anthropologists, and ethnologists, of the labours also of the students of language and of folk- lore, much knowledge has been accumulated about the beginnings and early history of society. The assumptions in regard to social evolution that have thus far been made in our pages have been based upon this knowledge. While it is impossible in a small text-book to present anything like a complete account of the historical evolution of so- ciety, even an elementary work on Sociology would be incomplete if it did not include a brief summary of what is known on this subject. Accordingly, we will now glance at some of the chiefly interesting facts and speculations touching social development. The Social Ancestor of Man. — Thus far but little men- tion has been made in these pages of any other society than that of human beings. It is well known, however, to all who are familiar with animal life, that most animal species are social in their instincts, and that they live in such social groups as swarms, flocks, bands, and herds. This is true! 231 232 The Elements of Sociology of insects, birds, and most of the mammalia, and especially of such species as the various ruminants, the horses, the elephants, the monkeys, and the apes. It is held by evolutionists that from an ape-like creature, no longer perfectly represented in any surviving species, the human race itself is descended. The sociologist has no immediate concern with the vast mass of biological and palasontological evidence which establishes the Darwinian theory of the descent of man from the lower forms of life. It is, however, a sociological question whether man is descended from an unsocial species, every individual or pair of which lived an isolated life, or from a highly social species that had already formed the habit of living in bands for the enjoyment of social pleasure and for com- mon protection and cooperation. In other words, it is a sociological question whether the human race is descended from a single pair or from an entire species which lived in communities and, as a species, slowly developed into human form and intelligence. Did the race become social after becoming human, or did it become human after becoming social? There is hardly a single fact in the whole range of socio- logical knowledge that does not support the conclusion that the race was social before it was human, and that its social qualities were the chief means of developing its human nature. To begin with, we know that, to some extent, all exist- ing varieties of human beings are social. The lowest savage hordes are in a measure possessed of sympathetic instincts and of habits of cooperation. We also know that, while nearly all animal species are social in instinct and habits, this is preeminently true of those species that The Early History of Society 233 most nearly approach man in anatomical and psychologi- cal characteristics. The social affections of many varie- ties of apes and monkeys are of almost human intensity. Therefore, it would be a most strange and unwarranted assumption to suppose that between the social species from which man is known to be descended and man him- self as a social being, there was an ancestral link that was itself non-social, and lived an isolated life, without communication with fellow-creatures. In the second place, there is strong reason to suppose that social habits have played an exceedingly important part in those processe ; of animal evolution that are known as differentiation, variation, and survival. The great variety that we see in organic life, both vege- table and animal, has chiefly been produced by the combi- nation of differing elements in mating and reproduction. Whenever variations thus produced have proved beneficial,^ either by enabling their possessors better to withstand rigours of heat or cold, or other peculiarities of climate, or more successfully to obtain food, or more skilfully to com- bat or to evade enemies, they have tended to persist, through the survival of the individuals in which they were inherent. When, on the contrary, variations have tended to weakness or incapacity, they have themselves disappeared through the disappearance of their unfortunate possessors. The tendency of all forms of life is to multiply with such rapidity that extreme difficulty is experienced by the race or species in obtaining sufficient food supplies. Those in- dividuals that are best equipped with characteristics of body and of intelligence that are called for in the life struggle at their particular time and place, are the fortu- nate ones that survive. Through their survival, their 234 The Elements of Sociology characteristics and abilities are established in the species. This is the process called natural selection, or the survival of the fittest. It must be remembered that the phrase "the survival of the fittest " does not always mean the survival of the best, as is often erroneously supposed. It means merely the survival of those best fitted or adapted to the conditions of life in which their lot is cast. For example, the death of Europeans, and the survival of brutal savages on the fever- ridden western coast of Africa, is a survival of the fittest, since it is a survival of those who are, by nature, adapted to live in that region — though we should hardly call it a survival of the best. Natural selection, then, is simply the weeding out by disease, accident, death, and conquest of those individuals, varieties, and species that are not adapted to the conditions of existence in which they find themselves, and the survival of those that are adapted. The Survival of the Best. — So far, this is not difficult to understand. But a further question is, How does it happen that the survival of the fittest really has been, on the whole, the survival of the best; in other words, the survival of the most intelligent, the most sympathetic, truthful, and helpful ? One has only to glance back over the long succession of species throughout geological time, as revealed in fossil remains, to see that the succes- sion was a progression from the unintelligent to the intelli- gent, and that, speaking generally, the latest species to appear were the best endowed with brain and nervous organization. It is the belief of the present author that the answer to this question can never be given by the biologist or the palaeontologist without the aid of the sociologist. The Early History of Society 235 The reason why in the long run the survival of the fittest has been the survival of the best, is to be found in the obvious importance of the social instinct in the strug- gle for existence. Association and mutual aid have been a chief means of establishing new varieties of animal life. This they have done by creating sympathies and antipathies that have controlled mating and reproduction. Some individuals have been unable to unite in the reproduction of their species simply because of social antipathies. Others have as inevitably united because of social sympathies. Further than this, these same antipathies and sympa- thies have secured the stability of new forms when once produced, by protecting them from the further variation that would result from cross breeding. Yet further, among animals survival has perhaps more often been due to sympathy and mutual aid than to any other one cause. Before man appeared on the earth, the fiercer carnivora were already tending towards extinction, while the gentle, physically weak, and apparently defence- less herbiverous and frugiverous species were rapidly in- creasing. The ability of the latter to survive and multiply was almost wholly due to the defence that they enjoyed in their social habit of cooperation. Admitting, then, that throughout the history of animal life the social instinct has been one of the chief means of survival, ■ it becomes easy to say why the survival of the fittest has been the survival of the best. In the chapter on The Social Nature it was shown that social life develops intelligence and the moral virtues. The possession of intelligence and moral qualities, including sympathy and affection, is what we mean by "the best." Consequently, 236 The Elements of Sociology if social habit has been an important factor in the struggle for existence, natural selection has inevitably been sup- pressing the unintelligent and the unsympathetic, and preserving their betters. Thus we have every reason to suppose that society originated ages before man appeared on the earth; and that sympathies, affections, social instincts, and habits of mutual aid were well developed in many specias of animals long before any one of them had begun to assume the human form. The first chapter, then, in the early history of society, is one that takes us far back into geological times. Maris Social Allies. — Apart from the fact that human- ity probably started upon its career with an endowment of social instinct and habit already well formed, mankind owes another great debt to the social evolution of animal life. It is more than doubtful whether any progress in civilization could have been made if man had been unable to tame and domesticate some of the lower animals. Before command of the physical forces was achieved through the invention of machinery, man was dependent for many forms of service upon such animals as the ele- phant, the ox, and the horse. Moreover, in many parts of the world where civilization has attained its highest forms, a sufficient food supply to maintain a dense population has been possible only through the systematic rearing of such domesticated animals as cattle and sheep. The taming and domestication of animals, however, would have been quite impossible had they not first acquired in association a teachable disposition and a high intelli- gence. Anthropogenic Association. — The social life of animals The Early History of Society 237 may be called a zoogenic association, because its chief result has been the differentiation and development of the varied forms of animal life and the development of animal intelligence. In like manner the beginnings of human society may be spoken of as anthropogenic association, because the chief result of it was the development of human characteristics, and especially of the human, in distinction from the ani- mal, mind. Mans Early Hojne. — Since we do not know just when and where took place the transformation of a species that closely resembled the human race into a race that could, in strictness, be called human, and since there are no records of the social habits of that species, we are unable to ascertain very much about the earliest beginnings of human society. There are, however, a few known facts which it is worth while to call to mind. The fossil remains of those highest and now extinct varieties of apes, whose skeletons most closely approach that of man, are found along an irregular zone that stretches from the valley of the Thames in England through the valleys of the Seine and the Garonne in France, through northern Africa and southern India to Java. The earliest undoubtedly human remains are found scattered throughout the same zone. In Java has been found the Pithecanthropus erectus, which the best anatomists have decided is a true intermediate link between ape and man. It is, therefore, highly probable that somewhere within this zone, stretching from Java to southern Eng- land, the origin of the human species was slowly effected through minute modifications of brain and form, which probably occupied thousands of years in their accomplish- 238 The Elements of Sociology ment; and that it was throughout this zone that the first bands of human beings lived and wandered, some of them in the southeast developing into dark races, and others in the northwest into light races. It is also highly probable that the earliest human beings lived in rather large bands or communities, because they dwelt in regions where such food supplies as they needed were relatively abundant. It is fallacious to argue from the hard life and scanty subsistence of the lowest hordes of human beings now living in such remote regions as Tierra del Fuego, the Australian forests, and the Arctic Highlands, that primitive men were as ill fed and neces- sarily lived in such small groups. It is certain that human life did not begin in the remote and barren corners of the globe. Those unfortunate peoples that now dwell there have been driven into them by powerful enemies who have dispossessed them of better lands that they once enjoyed. Tlie Origin of Speech. — Slight as is our possible know- ledge of primitive human society, we know one fact about it with certainty ; and it is the most interesting fact in the entire history of the human race. It was in the earliest stages of the social life of that species which was develop- ing into man, that the calls and cries of animals were developed into articulate speech, and that the power to think in terms of concepts or abstract ideas was acquired. The great difference between the mind of man and that of lower animals is in man's power of conceptual thought and of predicative speech. These two terms must be explained together. We form a concept when we succeed in forming the idea of a class of things, or, as we otherwise say, a general idea. If, for example, The Early History of Society 239 after we have seen scores or hundreds of pine trees, we can think of pine trees in general without limiting the mental picture to the memory of some particular pine tree, we have formed a concept of that general class of things, pine trees. In like manner, if the word "man" brings to mind a general notion of the human being rather than a picture of some particular human being, we are able to think of man in terms of concepts. It is certain that the more intelligent animals have made a near approach to the power of conceptual think- ing; but it is equally certain that if, now and then, they do form true concepts, they are quite unable to combine them in coherent propositions. When birds from a great height cautiously alight on ice, with a motion altogether different from that of diving into water, they show that they are able to distinguish ice in general from water in general, since their practice is by no means limited to any particular piece of ice with which they have become famiHar. But they are not able to put together their notion of ice with a notion of temperature, or of altitude, or of latitude, and so to form coherent rational propositions about ice. This power, which man has, he owes entirely to the circumstance that he has discovered a method of fixing signs to his concepts so that he can recall them and identify them in whatever combination they happen to be placed. These signs of concepts we know by the designation "names." Particular objects, also, we identify by names. That is to say, we have two distinct classes of names : the concrete or proper nouns, and the ab- stract or common nouns. The latter are terms for con- cepts. The greater part of our verbs also are signs of 240 The Elements of Sociology concepts ; they are names of actions or states that are general rather than particular. One who closely observes the mental development of a child, sees that his power of using words as marks of concepts and his power of conceptual thought develop to- gether. Each step in his command over either helps him in his struggle with the other. The process was un- doubtedly the same in the early development of spoken language in primitive human communities, except that the original process undoubtedly occupied a much longer time. From the standpoint of the sociologist, the most inter- esting question touching the origin of speech is that of the means by which articulate sounds became associated with general ideas, so that they were presently con- sciously employed as names, and thereby enabled man- kind to advance in his intellectual development until he had mastered the processes of conceptual reasoning. Students of language believe that this means was none other than the habit of social pleasure-making, in the forms of feasting, dancing, and a common expression of emotion in shouts and cries which, under the influence of excitement, naturally assumed a rhythmical form. The expression of feeling in vocal sounds, which is common to animals, was probably first transformed into a choral sing- ing, and afterwards into articulate speech. In all proba- bility, the choral sounds thus transformed into a rude music were, in the beginning, imitations of the cries of animals and men whose actions were at the same time being imitated in the gesture and pantomime of the dance. Sounds thus associated with particular objects or classes of objects, not once or twice or in any merely accidental way, but over and over again in repetitions that became The Early History of Society 241 habitual, presently served, when heard, to call to mind the objects or classes of objects themselves. Thus, by- imitation and repetition, they unconsciously became fixed signs or names of concepts ; and doubtless they had come into general use before any individual was aware of the marvellous transformation that was thus taking place in his own intelligence. Therefore, it was probably a purely social fact — that, namely, of habitual and perhaps almost systematic social pleasure-making — which enabled man to convert the lan- guage of animals into articulate speech and develop the power of conceptual thought. Human Nature. — One other fact of primitive human society we also know with certainty. It was in the earli- est period of human evolution that human nature as dis- tinguished from animal nature was produced, and that the social mind entered upon its formal development through the origin of tradition. Human nature is not that self-seeking individualism which has so often been mistaken for it. The more self-' ish and unsocial the individual is, the nearer does he approach to the prehuman or animal nature. Human nature is preeminently social. Its chief trait is a con- sciousness of kind wider and stronger than that found in animal groups ; a consciousness of kind that is better developed in the civilized man of to-day than it was in the civilized man of antiquity ; that was better developed in him than in the barbarian, and better developed in the barbarian than in the savage. Next to the better devel- oped consciousness of kind, the chief trait of human nature is a volume of desire, strong, expansive, and modi- fiable to a degree unknown in any other species. 242 The Elements of Sociology Both of these traits of human nature were made possi- ble by speech. Speech sharply marked off the species that had discovered it. It enabled that species to become self-conscious and to comprehend its superiority to all other creatures. In like manner, the differences of speech that grew up between separate communities, until it was impossible for one to understand another, became the basis of a very marked development of the consciousness of kind. Speech, moreover, was the chief factor in the development of curiosity, as it is to this day in the mental evolution of the child. When the child begins to learn and to apply names, his curiosity about things, and his desire to investigate them by every means in his power, becomes most intense. We cannot doubt that this was true also of primitive man. The development of curiosity, in its turn, is the chief factor in the development of desire. Desire has its origi- nal source in the physiological processes. But our purely physiological wants are limited in degree and are easily satisfied. It is only when the excitement that accom- panies the activity of our psychological apparatus — of brain and nerve — is awakened, that desire assumes the form of cravings which admit of indefinite multiplication. The desires that contain elements of perception and thought, especially when they assume the form of intel- lectual curiosity, admit of combination and recombination with one another and with the primary cravings of bodily desire, in endless variation of detail. It was, then, the development of speech that made possible the development of human nature, whose chief characteristics are the developed consciousness of kind, intellectual curiosity, and an expansive desire. The Early History of Society 243 Inequality and Emulation. — Speech, in combination with a developing desire, emphasized inequality between man and man, and gave birth to emulation and the desire to excel. Since speech was the most peculiar, and probably the most prized characteristic of any community of primitive men, the individual man who excelled in speech, — partic- ularly in persuasive speech, — and who had unusual pow- ers of conceptual thought, became the natural leader of the band. He also had more varied desires and ambitions than his fellows, and knew better how to realize them. At the same time, by means of his endowment of concept- ual thought, he could put his distinction before his own mind as an object of thought. He could distinctly form the notions of leadership and of adulation as objects worth achieving. In the breasts of his fellows, however, the deepening consciousness of kind could but fortify a belief that the distinction which one could achieve must be pos- sible to all. The wish to emulate, born of habits of imita- tion that extended back through countless generations, thus became at length in their minds a consciously con- ceived desire, as clear and as powerful as the exceptional man's desire to excel. In the birth of these two desires, the desire to excel and the desire to emulate, the long course of human progress began. The First Traditions. — Traditions arose in primitive human society, and the first steps in the development of a conventional type of the social mind were taken when, after the acquisition of articulate speech, primitive com- munities began to discuss those ideas and experiences that individuals had been familiar with for untold gen- erations. Ideas of utility, of toleration, of alliance and 244 ^'^^ Elements of Sociology conquest became elements of tradition when, and only when, communicated from one individual mind to another throughout the social group, they were made objects of conceptual thought, of discussion, and of common belief. I. Primitive Economic Ideas. — By communication and discussion, until they became a common possession, the primitive ideas of utility and value were combined in a primitive conception of wealth. Desirable things are not wealth until they are appreciated by the community as well as by the individuals that first discover their desira- ble qualities. Economists imperfectly express this truth when they say that wealth consists of the useful things that can be exchanged, or that have value in exchange. Actual exchange is not necessary to convert the material means of satisfaction into wealth ; but a general or social esteem is necessary. Such an esteem arose when men began consciously to compare their wants, their efforts, and their satisfactions ; and when, by that common con- sent which is a product as much of emulation as of dis- cussion, they began to arrange the means of satisfaction in a scale of desirableness. In those days of sharp alter- nations of feasting and starving, mere quantity of any- thing consumable impressed the imagination ; and crude abundance was put first in the social esteem. To dis- cover and conquer abundance was to win distinction. Next in order were put the things that qualitatively or quantitatively served as marks of distinction, such as tro- phies, ornaments, and implements, and finally the things that appealed to new desires. The primitive idea of wealth was thus not essentially different from the idea of wealth to-day. It was the notion of a socially esteemed abundance of things necessary for life, for social distinc- The Early History of Society 245 tion, for emulation, and for the imitation of novelty. It expanded with the growth of inequality, which intensified the desires to excel and to emulate. The remaining economic ideas of the primitive social mind were those that constitute the useful or productive arts. Discovery and invention were then, as they are now, the prime factors in economic production. The discoveries made by primitive man were few and simple ; and his in- ventions did not get beyond the most elementary tools and processes. Professor Tylor says that it is not quite true that man is distinguished from the animals by his use of tools, since some apes, and perhaps other animals, use the tools that are ready to hand, in the forms of clubs and stones ; but that man alone improves these natural tools, and therefore may be called a tool-making animal. When all of the simple discoveries of primitive man, all of his inventions of tools and processes, were communi- cated, discussed, and imitated, they became a common possession, and thus a permanent acquisition of the social mind. 2. Primitive Juristic Ideas. — Through communication and discussion, habits of toleration that had long been established became objects of conceptual thought, and were converted into the juridical tradition. As was ex- plained in an earlier chapter, the habits of toleration themselves had originated in those conflicts that resulted in demonstrating a substantial equilibrium of strength. Such habits were converted into rules of toleration, and thereby into juridical facts, when they were named and described, as a result of being conceptually thought about and discussed. From the first, the ideas of toleration in the primitive 246 The Elements of Sociology social mind must have assorted themselves into the two classes that are still fundamental categories of legal thought ; namely, notions of immunity of life and notions of immunity of possession. The conception of immunity of life was at iirst limited by a narrow consciousness of kind. The primitive man could feel affection for an associate ; he could estimate the probable danger of offending him ; and could appre- ciate the importance of his life to the band. For the stranger, the primitive man could have no such feelings; and no sacredness could attach to a stranger's life. The man who slew a fellow-member of his band could expect the wrath of his own associates. The man who was in- jured by a stranger could count on the aid of all his own associates in pursuing and avenging. The idea of possession, which originated in the asser- tion of ownership that is exhibited by animals, became, in the primitive social mind, the notion of property or of property right, which is a product of two factors ; namely, the assertion of possession on the part of the individual possessing, and the toleration of his claim or acquiescence in it on the part of the community. In primitive society, property extended to simple personal belongings, to arti- cles of adornment, to trophies of the chase or of war, and to tools and weapons. Probably gift-giving, in recogni- tion of bravery or capacity, was an important factor in the evolution of the conception of property. Nothing could more clearly have been property than articles given by the community to its favourite leaders. 3. Primitive Political Ideas. — The notions which, by means of discussion, were converted into the germs of political ideas in the primitive social mind were those The Early History of Society 247 of a common territory, of a common interest and defence, of a common leadership and allegiance, and of a common culture. The lowest savage hordes have notions of rudely bounded lands which they may rightfully claim and de- fend. It is probable that these ideas originated far back in prehistoric times. They could not fail to arise when the familiar association of a group with the natural feat- ures of its dwelling-place was frequently disturbed by enemies, and the danger became a topic of discussion. The supreme common interests of primitive men were those of mutual aggression and mutual defence ; and we may be sure that the habits of mutual aid which had been acquired in the animal stage of evolution were well scru- tinized by the primitive social mind ; that they were named and discussed ; and that the resulting notions of the conduct that would receive public approval in any given case were combined into conceptions of loyalty and solidarity. Leadership must often have played an important part in critical situations, and have riveted the primitive man's attention upon differences of personal power, and upon the relations of inferior to superior. Simple forms of ad- miration and ceremony are observed throughout the animal kingdom. All animals exhibit an uncritical wonder at unusual displays of power or brilliancy, and express their deference to those who are admired or feared by attitudes of supplication, by acts of service, and by a surrender of possessions. In return for deference, they look for various benefits from the superior. These habits were inherited by the human race; and the primitive man uncritically accepted any difference between himself and another, 248 The Elements of Sociology especially any difference of magnitude or power. One was inferior and must admire and obey, follow and ask favours ; the other was superior, and could command and guide, demand reverence and service, and bestow benefits. These notions, converted into common possessions of the social mind, became ideas of a common property in the commanding personalities of the community; ideas of benefit and obligation in the relations of leader and fol- lower ; ideas of common forms of ceremony. These ideas bound men together when they thought of themselves as inferior and superior, as ideas of their common interest in defence and aggression bound them together when they thought of themselves as equal allies. The crude notions of benefit and obligation were fertile ideas that would later develop into personal allegiance to a chief or lord. From the ceremonial ideas were to be evolved those differen- tiated forms of command and obedience, of bounty and tribute, of protection and service, of grace and homage, that are the substance of government of every sort. In the stock of common ideas on all the relations and interests of life, in the common forms of ceremonial, and in the speech which transmitted both ideas and ceremonial the community had the elements of a common culture. When the social mind perceived these elements and reflected upon them, it thereby converted them into a culture in fact, a supreme interest to be diligently cherished. In this conception of a common culture appeared the germ of one of the most important of all political ideas. A common culture depends upon autogeny and its cen- tral fact of genetic aggregation. The conception of a common culture had, as its chief element, the idea of a community of speech, which, as a rule, could be identified The Early History of Society 249 with kinship. Therefore, the conception of a common culture must have been closely associated with the concep- tion of kinship. From these two conceptions was subse- quently developed that plan of government which made kinship its administrative basis. All of these political ideas of the primitive social mind ■ — ideas, namely, of a common territory, of solidarity and loyalty, of leadership and allegiance, of kinship and a com- mon culture — have been factors in every form of political organization that has been tried ; but the idea of kinship was the first, the idea of allegiance was the second, and the idea of territory was the last to be emphasized for admin- istrative purposes. Secondary Traditions. — In these various groups of social ideas were the beginnings of the economic, the juristic, and the political traditions. They all pertained to those fundamental relations which a conscious organism holds to the tangible world of palpable creatures and ma- terial things. But in the very process of reflecting upon its own ideas, the mind of man was beginning to look in upon itself and to apprehend phenomena of which the animal mind had never been conscious. It was beginning to have ideas of ideas : ideas of volition, life, and cause ; ideas of the sources of those manifestations of power that had awakened won- der and fear. It was beginning to perceive an intangible world. These notions of an intangible world, communi- cated and discussed, became the elements of the secondary traditions ; namely, the animistic, the poetic, and the religious. I. Primitive Animistic Ideas. — The ideas constituting the animistic tradition man derived from his first crude at- 250 The Elements of Sociology tempts to analyze himself. Ordinarily, body and thought seemed inseparable. But when the primitive man ob- served the bodies of the dead, he discovered that mani- festations of thought, expressed in action and speech, could no longer be expected. His own experiences in dreaming and in imaginative waking moods, when his own mind seemed to wander away from his body, led him to interpret these facts as due to a simple and natural separa- tion of mind and body under certain circumstances. He interpreted himself and every other living thing as double — as consisting of two selves, which might live together or might wander apart. From this notion it followed by primitive reasoning that whatever manifested life was personal and was actuated by motives like those of human beings. The primitive man concluded that conscious will was in everything that moved or changed ; and that it was prompted, like man's will, by appetite, desire, friendliness, and malevolence. The world seemed to him to be a bewildering aggregation of conscious powers. Some of them were contemptible, and man could abuse or use them ; but others were terri- ble, swift, subtle, or mysterious in their action, and iilled the wondering human soul with fear, admiration, and dread. 2. Primitive Poetic Ideas. — The notions that were de- veloped into the poetic tradition sprang chiefly from the primitive man's interpretation of shadows, reflections in water, and echoes. He assigned to these intangible things an independent conscious life quite like his own personality. He was led to this interpretation because shadow, reflection, and echo seemed to him to have the power of accompanying him at certain times, or to sepa- rate themselves from him independently of his will. It The Early History of Society 251 was beyond the range of his intelHgence to explain the appearance and disappearance of the shadow as due to his own position in the sunHght or in the shade; to ex- plain the echo which seemed to come back from mountain or forest, as due to the nature of sound. He could think of the echo only as the voice of his double — that think- ing, spiritual part of himself which had the power of wan- dering away from the body in imagination, in dreams, and in death. The shadow and the reflection, in like manner, ; he believed were visions of his conscious self, fleetingly caught by his eye. Thus conceiving of images and echoes, he interpreted words and other sounds in like manner. They were living conscious things, in some mysterious way associated with himself, and yet having the power to live apart from his tangible body. Thus it was that the whole human race, in its earliest days, came to think of all the modes of expression, both in imagery and in sound, as consisting of living things ; and thus it was that the entire early conception of the world and of history took that poetic form in which all things, including sounds and images themselves, are personified. Primitive Religions Ideas. — The religious tradition had its origin in the primitive man's notion that his intangible or conscious self survived the death of his body, and con- tinued to wander about the world as a ghost or spirit which, at times, might come back to a body from which apparently it had gone forever, or go from one body to another, or even from a human into an animal body, or into a plant, or stream, or mountain, or other natural object. Nothing could have been more natural than that the primitive man should so interpret familiar occurrences. In coma, for example, the body may lie for days in a state 252 The Elements of Sociology indistinguishable from death, and then revive. In epi- lepsy and in insanity, as they appeared to the primitive man, the proper spirit of the victim was evidently not in him ; or it was enthralled by strange and probably malevo- lent spirits. So the belief in ghosts or surviving spirits of the dead that had come back to their bodies or wandered through the air, or entered into plants, streams, or other objects, became a conviction of the entire human race ; and, ac- cording to primitive modes of thinking, it was necessary for man to propitiate not only living beings who were more powerful than himself, but also the ghosts of the dead which, if not well treated, might become malevolent, and work all manner of mysterious mischief. Totemism. — ■ Out of these notions, by a most natural development, grew those ideas of the primitive social mind that were destined to play an exceedingly impor- tant part in the organization of tribal society : the ideas, namely, which have already been briefly described as totemism. Primitive naming was largely a matter of imi- tation. At least, we may so infer from the fact that among existing savages names are derived almost wholly from animals, plants, and other natural objects with which the daily life of the band is most closely associated. Furthermore, in hunting, fishing, and in festive amuse- ments, it was doubtless customary then as now to adopt disguises and imitations of animal forms by clothing one's self in skins or putting on head-dresses of feathers, beaks, and horns. To the primitive mind, this association by adornment, imitation, and naming, with animal forms or other objects, created a much closer alliance than would seem credible to the modern mind. Since names and The Early History of Society 253 images were themselves supposed to be living spiritual realities with mysterious powers, any alliance with them was thought to be equivalent to an intimate association with the objects which they named or pictured. If a boy were called an eagle or a bear, and especially if he were also adorned in imitation of eagle or bear, he necessarily partook thereby of the nature and powers of the eagle or the bear. He was, in a mysterious way, of the same kin- dred as they. Without here tracing further all the steps in the process by which totemism developed, it is sufficient to say that it grew out of the notion that men could be related to one another through their mysterious alliance with animal forms. Thus, the human community came to be thought of as including many members besides the human individ- uals born into it. It was supposed to include the ghosts of all its dead members ; to include all its totemic mem- bers of other species ; to include all those human beings who, wandering into it, happened to be named or marked with the name or image of the totem, since, to the mind of the primitive man, this would prove that they also were related to his own totemic kindred. Such, then, were the chiefly interesting developments of primitive human society. The origin of speech, the evolu- tion of human nature, and the beginnings of the great traditions of the social mind : these were the achieve- ments of anthropogenic association. PARALLEL STUDY Read Darwin's "Descent of Man" ; Brinton's "Races and Peoples"; and Spencer's "Principles of Sociology," Volume I, Part I, Chapters V-XIX, inclusive, and Volume II, Part IV. CHAPTER XXI Tribal Society Endogamous Metronymic Hordes. — We have no means of knowing how long ago bands of human beings first de- veloped into true tribal organizations. Yet, while the actual time that has elapsed since the forms of social organization began to appear among mankind will prob- ably never be measured, we can determine with a close approach to accuracy the successive stages through which organization has passed in its evolution. In this respect the study of the history of society is not unlike the study of geology, in which the measurement of time periods is all but impossible, while the order in which the successive rock formations and the successive living species appeared, is known with practical certainty. This knowledge is obtained from two sources. One is a study of words and usages which, in existing social organization, are evidently survivals from an earlier time. The other is a study of the relations of existing social forms to one another. It enables us to discover which are the earlier and which the later modes of social cooperation. To pursue the details of such studies, the student must acquaint himself with the researches of folk-lore, philology, archaeology, and ethnology. Without attempting here to enumerate the detailed evidences upon which they rest, we will, in this chapter, 254 Tribal Society 255 merely summarize the more important conclusions that have been drawn by competent investigators from materials of various kinds in regard to the order in which the chief steps in the evolution of tribal society probably occurred. Tlie Earliest Hordes. — Long before there were any true clans or tribes in human populations, the prevailing social organization was probably a mere horde in which family relations were irregular and unstable, in which de- scent was traced through mothers only, and in which the mating of men and women, seldom the result of any inter- mingling of the members of one group with those of another, was practically wholly within the group itself, which could therefore be described as endogamous. It must be remembered, however, that strictly speaking there was no such thing as marriage. Marriage is a juridical relation. It is a form of sexual mating that is approved or sanctioned by the community. It is a relation analo- gous to property which, as was explained, consists not in a mere assertion of ownership and an actual possession of the object claimed, but rather in the admission and pro- tection of the claim by the community itself. Property in this sense, and marriage in this sense, could hardly have existed in the earliest days of human society. With this explanation, we may say that the earliest human communities were probably endogamous metro- nymic hordes in which were formed unstable family groups, not unlike those of the Veddahs of Ceylon, the Mincopis of the Andaman Islands, and the Eskimo of the North. One part only of the evidence for this conclusion is of such general sociological interest that it must be mentioned here. 256 The Elements of Sociology In the systems of consanguinity — blood relationship — found among the least advanced hordes now existing, there are no such distinctions as those of cousin, uncle and aunt, nephew and niece. All men and women of the same generation call themselves brothers and sisters. All women of the preceding generation are mothers. All men of the preceding generation are fathers. All boys of the younger generation are sons. All girls of the younger generation are daughters. This, of course, is such a system of re- lationships as would come into existence if a large num- ber of men and women lived together as a single family. Extensive philological researches have demonstrated that in every part of the world, including western Europe, the systems of relationship that now prevail were preceded in prehistoric times by the one that has just been described. ContribiLtioiis to Well-being. — Rude as it was, the primitive metronymic horde developed certain virtues that were priceless contributions to the happiness of later gen- erations. In small endogamous groups there grew an affection that was all the more intense because of its limited range. There developed also a gentleness, a ge- niality, a kindliness, in the relations of individual to indi- vidual, which was in utter contrast to the enmity that doubtless existed between group and group. Curiously enough, we have in these very words, kindliness, geniality, and gentleness, a connecting link with those early human communities ; for every one of these words originally meant that which pertains to a kindred or group of kin related through the mother. Exogamous Metronymic Tribes. — The next step in the evolution of the forms of social organization became pos- sible when multiplying hordes drew together in clusters, Tribal Society 257 and established friendly relations with one another. The clan and exogamy then appeared. Origin of Exogamy. — A tendency towards exogamy doubtless existed in primitive man as an inherited instinct. Most of the higher animals avoid close interbreeding. Strictly speaking the animal instinct is one against the mating of nest- or house-mates and does not prevent the mating of near kin if they happen to have been reared apart. Wherever primitive human hordes maintained such communication that men and women passed frequently from one to another, there was probably a tendency towards the substitution of exogamous for endogamous mating. Origin of the Clan. ^The clan grew out of the natural defensive alliance of a household group of brothers and sisters. This group began to assume an artificial form whenever individuals unrelated to it in blood were adopted into it, and other individuals originally members of it and related to it in blood were expelled from it, on account of any wrong-doing on their part or prejudice against them on the part of their brethren. Such a group, although already partly artificial, would not be a true clan until it existed beyond one lifetime. It would become a true clan as soon as it admitted from among the descendants of its original members either all offspring of daughters, but not of sons, or all offspring of sons, but not of daughters. In the early days that we are now considering, admissions could be made only from the descendants of daughters. Just this curious extension and limitation of the mem- bership of the brotherhood was brought about by the de- velopment of totemism. Through those primitive habits 258 The Elemerds of Sociology of thought that were explained in the preceding chapter, the members of a brotherhood recognized as kindred with themselves any person bearing their own totemic name and mark ; and there was a process whereby the range of naming and marking necessarily resulted in those admis- sions and exclusions which would convert the brotherhood into an organization consisting of all descendants in one line, and rigorously excluding all descendants in the other line. This was the practice, which survives to the present time in savage groups in many parts of the world, of giving to a child at birth a charm name or, as it is called in many tribes, a " medicine," which should afford him protection and guidance through life. Partly because some names were more frequently given than others, partly because of the intellectual poverty of primitive man, and partly because some names were supposed to be more lucky than others, it happened that certain totemic names became common in particular households, and were handed on from one generation to another ; so that, in course of time, indi- viduals had, as now, their individual names and the name common to their household or group. As soon as totemic group names were continued from generation to generation, they were inherited by those tracing descent through mothers, and not by those tracing descent through fathers. The brotherhood then became a semi-natural, semi-artificial band, usually including all of the same totemic name in the mother line of descent, usually excluding all in the father line of descent; exclud- ing also individuals who by birth belonged to it if their con- duct was intolerable; including also, as adopted members, those, wherever born, who happened to bear the same tQ- Tribal Society 259 temic name, or who, being deliberately adopted, were deliberately marked with it. Origin of the Tribe. — Clusters of hordes in which a totemic clan organization had appeared were consolidated into tribes under the pressure of attack by common ene- mies or sometimes, perhaps, during migrations, or possibly through some other necessity not now obvious. Among the Andaman Islanders, it is a common occurrence for hordes to come together for temporary cooperation in war- fare, and then, when the necessity has passed, to break up once more into small bands. Only as the pressure con- tinues indefinitely through successive generations can per- manent consolidation under such circumstances be looked for ; and probably it was through such long-continued pressure that tribes were originally formed. When consolidation had been effected, the permanent subdivision of the resulting tribe was into clans, since the same clan organizations were found in all, or nearly all, of the component hordes that entered into the tribe. The dis- tinction of horde from horde tended to disappear, while the clan organization became increasingly definite. Origin of the Phratry. — When tribes and their constit- uent clans grew to large dimensions, it frequently happened that the clan organization, becoming too large for a suc- cessful performance of all its juristic and fraternal func- tions, divided into sub-clans. Then, in the course of time, the sub-clans became clans, and maintained the original clan organization under a new form as a brotherhood of clans, or a phratry. In this case, two or three of the functions of the original clan remained to the phratry. Among these were the conduct of periodical festivities, in which the members of the different clans belonging to the 26o The Eleme7tts of Sociology phratry came together for a renewal of their original good fellowship. The phratry also conducted funerals and all the more important religious ceremonies. Jurisdiction of capital crimes remained with the phratry, and to it could be taken other serious cases, on appeal, from the clan. Origin of Federations. — When a tribe, becoming un- wieldy, subdivided and threw off one or more new tribes, the division was not made by retaining certain clans in the old tribe, and permitting other clans to go into the new tribes. It was made by taking a portion of each clan into each new tribe. Thus it happened that, after a time, the same clans were distributed throughout many tribes, which were thereby bound together in fraternal relations. These, with their common language, were the basis of the subsequent confederation in which many tribes were united in military leagues, and presently consolidated into a tribal nation or folk. Contributions to Well-being. — Metronymic tribal organi- zation, through its central social form, the clan, substituted an exogamous metronymic system for the earlier endogamy. The chief contribution made to human well-being by this change was the expansion of the idea of kinship. The totemic clan relation was the first means of extend- ing the sympathy and affection of intimate blood relatives to men and women not strictly of the kindred group, even now and then to actual strangers who, nevertheless, could be thought of as kin. Narrow and exclusive the social organization still remained ; but it was less narrow than in the beginning. The first step had been taken in that broadening of the consciousness of kind which was ulti- mately to become inclusive of humanity. The Patronymic Trilje. — The change from a metronymic Tribal Society 261 to a patronymic organization seems to have occurred at any stage in the evolution of tribal society. There have been instances of its occurrence in small hordes, in organized tribes, and again after the organization of a metronymic folk by confederation. Wife Capture. — The practice of obtaining wives by capture has usually been the first step in the transition. In metronymic society, it is usual for husbands to follow the residence of the wives' kindred ; to attach themselves to the brethren and uncles of the wives. The arrange- ment is well adapted to the perpetuation of the metro- nymic system of relationships. When, however, wives are obtained by capture, they are taken to the clan and domi- cile of the captors ; and, being there deprived of the pro- tection of their brethren, they fall under the complete power of their husbands. Professor Tylor has described communities in which the transition from the metronymic to the patronymic system is now taking place under the influence of wife capture. In some of the Malayan tribes of the Babar Archipelago, " the men usually follow the women and live in their houses ; and the children belong to the wife's family. A man may marry as many as seven wives, who all remain in the houses of their kindred. But sometimes wives are obtained by robbery, and are carried off to their husbands' clans. The children then follow the father and take the father's name. In the Kisar and Wetar Islands also, the maternal system prevails ; but it is passing into the paternal system by capture, which brings wife and children under the husband's control." A similar state of things which formerly existed in Arabia is fully described by Robertson Smith in his work on " Kinship and Marriage in Early Arabia." 262 The Elements of Sociology Separation of husband and wife from the kindred of the wife, if brought about in any other way than by wife capture, may have the same consequences. Major Powell, writing of actual instances of change from metronymic to patronymic kinship among American Indians, says: "It would seem, from such opportunities as I have had to collect facts in the field, that hunting and other parties are frequently organized in such a manner that the male members of a clan group proceed together in company with their wives and children. Under such circum- stances, the control of the family necessarily falls into the hands of the husbands and fathers. This happens among Pueblo Indians, a matriarchal people with female descent, whose clans, in consequence of the scarcity of water for irrigation in their desert regions, are obliged to separate widely for the cultivation of lands at a distance from the central pueblo. The result is that the control of families and the training of children are temporarily taken out of the hands of their own kin on the mother's side ; and with the acquisition of cattle in these new homes comes a tendency to settle there permanently." Pastoral Industry. — That a change of kinship may be effected, however, it is necessary that the husband shall not only get possession of his wife and her children, but also keep possession of them. If he abandons them or sends them back to the mother clan, no patronymic kin- ship can be established. A motive for retaining possession of wife and children came into existence when the horde desired to strengthen its fighting force by rearmg boys, and still further when the labour of women in field cultivation had become so far systematized that captured women as well as boys were Tribal Society 263 useful to the tribe. The motive to retain possession of offspring attained its maximum strength, however, only with the appearance of forms of industry that engaged the interest and efforts of men, and gave value to the labour of sons. In most parts of the world this happened as a consequence of the domestication of animals. In the pastoral life was born the desire to multiply herds and herdsmen, and to transmit property to sons. Wife Purchase. — As the value of women and children increased, and as industry in some measure diverted at- tention from war, marriage by purchase gradually suc- ceeded marriage by capture. Purchase gave the husband even greater authority over the wife than he secured by capture, since his right to a purchased wife could not be denied by her kinsmen. They wholly surren- dered her; and she could cherish no hope of restoration to them. The husband's authority was further increased by re- ligion. It often happened that the totemic beliefs of metronymic tribal communities presented a serious ob- stacle to the plan of descent through fathers. Children belonged by birth to the totem of the mother. The totems of mother and father might be hostile; and to count children as socially of the clan of the father, while they were religiously of the clan of the mother, was to create a confusion intolerable to the barbarian mind. By the expedient of adopting the captured or purchased wife into the clan and totem of the husband, the difficulty was overcome. Children were then, in every sense, of the kindred of the father. Ancestor Worship. — Paternal authority had important reactions upon religion. Clansmen had always believed 264 The Elements of Sociology that they were descended from their totemic gods. When, therefore, descent began to be reckoned through males, changes in the religious system were inevitable. The male head of a family group was now the type of authority and power. So regarded in life, he was so regarded also in death. While the household might continue to regard natural objects and forces and miscellaneous spirits with superstitious feelings, they entertained for the departed soul of the founder of the house the stronger feeling of veneration. They thought of their ancestral spirit as their protector in the land of shades. To the ancestral spirit, therefore, they paid their principal devotions. Thus, without entirely dis- placing other religious observances, ancestor worship necessarily became a dominant cult. Ancestor worship is still the household religion of China and Japan. Many traces of it remain in the desert tribes of Arabia. All of the historical Semitic peoples were ancestor worshippers in their days of tribal organiza- tion. The Aryans were ancestor worshippers when they first appeared on the shores of the Mediterranean ; and among the Romans this religion of the household hearth disappeared only with the triumph of Christianity. In its turn, ancestor worship reacted upon domestic life and upon the structure of clan and tribe. It established the supreme authority of the father in the household, and even resulted in that extreme development of authority known at Rome as the patiia potestas. To the clan, ancestor worship gave a more distinctly religious char- acter. The gentiles preserved the tradition of the wor- ship of their eponymous ancestor, they maintained his tomb, and united there in periodical sacrifices, after the Tribal Society 265 manner so frequently described by Greek and Roman writers. Under the influence of male descent and ances- tor worship, clan headships and tribal chieftainships tended to become hereditary in certain families. In metronymic society, the office that could not descend to a son often descended to a nephew, whom the electors preferred to any other candidate on account of his rela- tionship to one who was successful as a counsellor or leader. In the ancestor worshipping patronymic group, there always was a strong belief that the son of a great man was his most suitable successor in office, because it was thought that the spirit of the father watched over the son's doings, and aided him with supernatural guidance. Advantages of Patronymic KinsJiip. — In numerous ways, the change from metronymic to patronymic kinship was of great advantage to society. It greatly increased the homogeneity and definiteness of the family group on the disciplinary and moral side. At first thought, one might suppose that the relations of children to parents would be practically the same whether descent were traced through the mother or through the father. Such, however, has never been practically the case. Many intelligent readers, and not a few writers on the early history of institutions, have fallen into the error of supposing that metronymic society was also matri- archal ; in other words, that it was governed by women instead of men. There is not a shred of evidence that any such state of affairs ever existed. So far as matters of government were concerned, the difference between metronymic and patronymic society was solely one of the relative authority of different men. In the metro-, nymic clan, power and authority resided, not in husbands 266 The Elements of Sociology and fathers, but in brothers and uncles. It was just as much a masculine authority as has ever existed in patro- nymic communities. The effect upon children, however, was by no means the same. A child was more likely than not to have numerous uncles on his mother's side ; and in the metro- nymic clan, each one asserted authority over him. He was thus subject to an irregular rule and a divided respon- sibility. But when clans began to trace relationships in the male line, the child came under the sole and single authority of one man, his father. All other authority was subordinate. The same was true of other members of the household. The household was no longer subject to the uncertain rule of a group or council, but to the single authority of one responsible head. Patronymic relationships, in like manner, gave greater cohesion and homogeneity to the village community. In metronymic society, the camp or village was a loose organization, because a majority of those who belonged to the same clan were women and children. The men might belong to many different clans. The unmarried brothers and male cousins of the women were members of the women's clan, while the various husbands were from other clans. This would have been an unimportant matter if the women had been rulers. The fighting strength and all the real authority, however, lay with the men, and therefore the metronymic camp or village had no military or juristic unity. If a quarrel broke out between two clans, the men of the same camp or village were arrayed against each other — an occurrence that has frequently been observed in Australian tribes. With the transition to patronymic kinship, the village Tribal Society 267 became homogeneous in this matter of authority and fight- ing strength. The men and boys now constituted a major- ity of the clansmen who lived together in any place. The wives were of different clans. Consequently, the fighting strength, the moral authority, and the clan relationships were now, for the first time, united in the same group of individuals. The transition to patronymic relationship made the reli- gious community also homogeneous. As was explained, the religious community includes, besides its living human members, all the friendly spirits and ghosts, and all the natural objects that are supposed to be of the kindred. In metronymic totemic society, the religious community thus includes human beings, plants, animals, streams, rocks, mountains, ghosts, and whatever else is worshipped. In the patronymic community, the principal spirits and gods are the ghosts of departed human members of the group. The religious community has thus come to consist chiefly of living human beings and human spirits, and to be in a high degree homogeneous. The chief result of this greater homogeneity is a great strengthening of social bonds, especially of those that unite one generation to another and increase the authority of tradition. Tribal Feudalism. — Patronymic tribes in which chief- tainship has become hereditary have usually, sooner or later, undergone changes of organization that have greatly modified the original tribal character, and have established a rude kind of feudalism. Observations of tribal society in every part of the world have established the conclusion that it is the habit of tribesmen to bestow large gifts upon their chieftains. Especially is this true when the tribes are much engaged 268 The Elements of Sociology in war or in plundering expeditions. The successful chieftain receives from his followers a large share of the booty of conquest. The riches thus obtained he, in turn, is able to bestow upon his personal favourites. By this means, he binds to himself those followers who most faithfully minister to his ambitions. These are the primi- tive forms of commettdatio and beneficium. When patronymic tribes entered upon pastoral pursuits and became wealthy in cattle, these relations acquired a great importance. The chief not only inherited his father's herds, but on every ceremonial occasion he re- ceived presents of cattle from the tribe. He levied fines and confiscations which were paid in kine. At every opportunity he organized excursions to steal cattle from neighbouring tribes. Dispensing favours and enriching favourites, he was soon able to control formidable bands of retainers. Through the favouritism of the chief, these retainers themselves became powerful men, and not infrequently strong enough to set up their own authority against that of the tribal organization. The chief had received from his tribesmen not only cattle but the right to pasture them on the outlying borders of the tribal domain. This right he extended to his followers who thus had the oppor- tunity to become wealthy, powerful, and independent if they, in their turn, could obtain bands of adventurous followers. They usually experienced no difficulty in find- ing such, since, in a disturbed state of society continually engaged in war and plunder, there were many ruined men, the survivors of tribes that had been broken up, and crimi- nals who, for some offence against clan law, had been driven forth from the communities in which they were Tribal Society 269 born. Such broken men were glad to attach themselves to any chieftain or chieftain's favourite who would employ them. The final step in the development of the indepen- dent power of the chief or of his ambitious retainer was to use his lawless bands in committing depredations on weaker tribes and in stealing their cattle. Deprived of posses- sions, conquered tribes could subsist then only by bor- rowing stock back from the arrogant cow-noblemen, — as they are called in the old Brehon law of Ireland, — who thus became receivers of regular tributes and of rents. All historical peoples probably passed through the stage of pastoral feudalism. The best picture of it that re- mains to us is that disclosed in the pages of the Brehon law. Benefits of Tribal Feudalism. — Rude and brutal as it was, tribal feudalism was a distinct advance in social evolution. It gave play to natural selection in the development of leadership. Any man of sufificient force could break over the barriers reared by custom and tradition in the tribal organization, and make himself an independent leader of men. Under such conditions, the men endowed by nature with the qualities of leadership were sure to come to the front. It introduced in human society what Mr. Mallock calls the struggle for domination as distinguished from the struggle for existence. In the struggle for existence men and animals are engaged in the effort to obtain subsist- ence, to overcome enemies, to adapt themselves to climate and other natural conditions of existence. In the struggle for domination, men of superior powers are engaged in the effort to lead and organize their less competent fellows 270 The Elements of Sociology in those activities that grow out of and constitute the struggle for existence. In the later stages of human evo- lution, successful leadership has been the most important single factor in the struggle for existence. It is, therefore, impossible to overestimate the importance of a stage in the development of human society which introduced and once for all established the struggle for domination. In tribal feudalism, finally, appeared the beginnings of social organization on the basis of mental and moral resemblance, irrespective of kinship. Although clan and tribe continued to be organized on the gentile principle, the retainers of the chieftains, or the followers of retainers, might themselves be men of any tribe. No question of relationship was asked ; it was only necessary that they should be loyal adherents, faithful in their allegiance to their chosen leader and protector. The development of tribal feudalism was the first step towards that momentous change which was finally to break down tribal organization and substitute for it the civil organization of society on the basis of industrial and political association, irrespective of the limitations of blood relationship. The Ethnic Nation. — Confederations of patronymic tribes of the same racial stock were formed, as confederations of metronymic tribes had been formed, under the pressure of a common danger or the inspiration of a common ambi- tion. They have always been more coherent, more formi- dable, and more stable than the strongest of metronymic confederations. Only patronymic confederations have de- veloped into great states or nations. The Egyptians, the Chaldeans, the Hebrews, the Greeks, the Romans, the Saxons, the Franks, the Germans, and the Slavs were originally tribally organized peoples which, by growth^ Tribal Society 271 confederation, and consolidation, developed into national states. When patronymic tribes confederate and form the ethnic nation, the agnatic principle and ancestor wor- ship, combined with political and military conditions, confer great authority upon the chief of the confedera- tion. He becomes a military leader, a religious leader or\ priest, and a supreme judge, all in one. The chief, in a word, becomes a king. With the achievement of confederation and the estab- lishment of kingship, ethnogenic evolution is completed. A gentile .folk or ethnos has come into existence. Its further development, if evolution is not arrested at this point, carries it in to the new conditions of civilization. PARALLEL STUDY Read Morgan's " Ancient Society," Part 11 ; Tacitus's " Germania " ; and Maine's " Early History of Institutions," Lectures I-VI inclusive. CHAPTER XXII Civilization Migration and Settlement. — The ethnic society that has become partly feudalized and has reached the stage of confederation and kingship is facing conditions that will further transform its organization. It is increasing in wealth and in population ; and it must resort to system- atic agriculture. But the rapid evolution of energy that is taking place is followed by expenditures in lawlessness and restlessness. The semi-feudal chiefs and their retain- ers are by no means willing to settle down to agricultural life. To conquer and plunder and to compel a conquered population to do agricultural labour, is a more attractive 1 programme. Accordingly, we find that patronymic tribal confeder- acies have seldom established themselves in agricultural s industry on the territory where they originated. They have entered upon a career of migration and conquest. Such was the history of the nomad tribes that overran Egypt; of the Assyrian tribes that overran the Akka- dians; of the Hebrews, the Greeks, the Latins, and the Germans. When the enterprise has been successful, and an alien people has been subjugated, the conquered territory has become the permanent home of the conquerors. 272 Civilization 273 The first effect of conquest has been a varied demotic composition. Aggregations of racially related groups have been brought into close contact with populations of a different race or sub-race under conditions that have made social and demotic amalgamation inevitable. The evidences are inexhaustible that the great historical peoples were created by the superposition of races or sub- races. From the earliest times the valleys of the Euphrates and the Tigris, Palestine and Asia Minor, were meeting and mingling places of races. Among the peoples that occupied Palestine before the Hebrew conquest were Amorites of the Celto-Lybian or blonde European race, Phoenicians or Canaanites of the Hamitic race, and many tribes of the Semitic race. Farther to the northwest, in Asia Minor, a like primitive population of commingled Celto-Lybian, Hamitic, and Semitic races was overrun at an early period by conquering warrior tribes of the Medi- terranean stock, Lycians, Lydians, Frigians, and Carians, who came across the Hellespont from Thrace. In Greece, the Hellenic tribes superposed themselves upon the prim- itive population of Pelasgians; in Italy the Latin and Sabine tribes overran the Etruscans and the Umbrians. In England, within the historic period, Saxons and Danes have been superposed upon Celts, and Normans upon Saxons and Danes; and back of these conquests and comminglings there were throughout Europe, in prehis- toric times, successive overflowings of population by pop- ulation, of which evidences survive in stone and bronze implements, burial barrows, and skulls. Sovereignty and Institutions. — When a tribally organ- ized people has established itself upon a conquered ter- 274 '^^'■^ Elements of Sociology ritory, and has been obliged to define its relations to a subject race, an active development of the political phases of the social mind has always followed. Sovereignty has then assumed a more definite form and a more positive character. Embodied in the council of a metronymic confederacy, sovereignty could hardly appear to free tribesmen as a power to compel obedience. Em- bodied in the hereditary king of a patronymic people, it could be thought of as a right to command. Even then, however, it could be regarded only as a semi-divine author- ity over the people, and not as an authority inherent in the people. But when, by united action, an entire people has imposed its rule upon a subjugated race, sovereignty has been revealed in its true character as the supreme expres- sion of the social will — as a law-making and an obedi- ence-compelling power to which every member of the state contributes his individual authority and his might. From this time on, therefore, sovereignty reacts vigor- ously upon the whole organization of society. The social mind, which has long reflected upon social relations, has hitherto expressed its approval and its disapproval through the ancient customs of clan and tribe. Now it begins to convert its judgments into formal decrees. Compelled by the contact of a ruling and a subject pop- ulation to face new problems of organization, it begins systematically to review the social system as it has hitherto reviewed the conduct of individuals, and to say explicitly what relations will be tolerated. Thus the rela- tions that are expressly authorized and sanctioned are con- verted into positive institutions. Sovereignty necessarily acts through the social constitu- tion, especially through the organs of government. For Civilization 275 this reason the social constitution presently becomes supe- rior in power and authority to the social composition. Accordingly, the first institutions are those of govern- ment and religion — the kingship and the priesthood. At this time, however, religious, military, and political func- tions are all united in the king. Government is theocratic, 1 but there is no church. As yet, however, the social constitution is not separated j from the social or from the demotic composition. There- 1 fore in converting the organs of government into positive ' institutions, the sovereign will of the people necessarily converts confederacy, tribe, clan, and family also into institutions. For a time, sovereignty accepts and sanc- tions the forms of these organizations that have been established by custom. It accepts and sanctions also the established distinctions in rank. When a confederated folk that has become feudal and monarchical takes pos- session of a conquered territory, it is already differentiated into royal, noble, free, and servile families. These dis- tinctions of the social composition are now made the basis of the hierarchy of power, authority, and service in the social constitution. This identity of the social composition with the social constitution long persists. The conquerors, nevertheless, notwithstanding great differences of rank among themselves, in social functions remain _sharply separated from the conquered. There is an identity of the social constitution with the composi- tion of the population that is not soon destroyed. The conquerors become a religious, military, and political class, and the conquered an industrial class. As the ruling class possesses the soil and forces the subject popula- tion to cultivate it, there is no separation of the industrial 276 The Eleme7its of Sociology from the political organization of the community. The institutional organization of government, therefore, makes it necessary to convert industrial relations into a third group of positive institutions ; namely, those of property, and of slavery, or of serfdom. Thus the conquerors reserve to themselves all directive >/ functions and organize themselves as a governing society. The conquered are organized as an industrial society, and are compelled to do directed labour. Developed Feudalism. — ^If the conquered territory is rela- tively wide in extent, so that the conquering tribes make but a scattered population in their new dominions, the semi-feudal organization, which arose before the migration, develops into that territorial feudalism which is familiar to readers of history. The conquered domain has been divided among tribes 1 and subdivided among clans ; but the king, if there is one, and the great chieftains have received tracts over which their control is practically absolute, and their authority over the strictly tribal lands also tends continually to increase. If, for a long period, the state of society is unsettled, tribal lands become fiefs — tenures under a lord — through voluntary surrender. Every reader of European history knows how great a part voluntary surrender played in the development of continental feu- dalism before the eleventh century. Harassed by ma- rauding bands, the weaker owners gladly made over their holdings to some powerful chieftain in exchange for his protection. In this larger development of feudalism, wealth in lands plays a more important part than wealth in cattle; and for this reason feudalism is often described as a Civilisation 277 system of land tenure. Strictly speaking, however, feu- dalism is a form of social organization, in which land tenure, or cattle ownership, or any other mode of prop- erty, is merely an incident. Developed feudalism, however, is in several important respects different from the earlier tribal feudalism out of which it grew. The chief differ- ence is found in the hereditary character of the fiefs of territorial feudalism. Great as was the power of maraud- ing chieftains in later tribal days, the tribes themselves usually retained the ultimate control over land. The holdings given by a chieftain to his followers were usually for a lifetime only. In the later feudalism, after voluntary surrender in exchange for protection had completely de- stroyed the earlier authority of tribe or clan, fiefs descended as hereditary possessions. The feudalism of western Eu- rope was further complicated by forms of Roman law that had survived the destruction of the Roman Empire. On account of these complications, the records of Middle Age European feudalism are not, in all respects, the best materials for the student who is obtaining his first im- pressions of the subject. Clear pictures of a rude feudal organization of society subsequent to territorial conquest are presented in the book of Judges in the Old Testament and in the Odyssey of Homer. Feudalism has always attained its highest development in sparse populations. This condition and its own charac- ter have made it a powerful decentralizing influence. It has always tended to weaken the power of the king and to disguise the essential unity of the people. Political sovereignty, therefore, has been for a time less definite after the complete establishment of territorial feudalism than it was at the moment of migration and conquest. 2/8 The Elements of Sociology Nevertheless, it remains inherent in the people. The king's word is still its supreme declaration. The con- version of social relations into definite institutions does not cease, and the social organization becomes continually more efficient. The Rise of Towns. — Even under feudalism, therefore, life and property are made more secure than they were in nomadic days. Population and wealth increase. The differentiation of town from rural life now begins. The local agricultural group at this time is a village \ community ; and the social organization of the country population in general is manorial in form. The soil is periodically apportioned among its cultivators — a prac- tice that has survived from the days of their common possession as clansmen ; but the cultivators now are ser- vile. They no longer own as clans or tribes (as individ- uals they never owned) the land that they till. They render service and pay tribute to a lord. Cities, in the modern sense of the word, do not yet exist. There are no centres of dense population ; but there are centres I of worship and defence, sacred places to which men ' gather from near and far to make periodical sacrifices to their tribal deities. These homes of the gods are fortified. The people flee to them in times of danger. They are centres of administration and justice ; for here kings and judges hold their court. In the course of time, tribal chiefs and elders, priests and military leaders, establish their permanent homes in these holy places. Garrisons of soldiers are permanently stationed near them. Artisans and labourers are brought to them to care for the temple, to build the fortifications, and to manu- facture weapons, armour, and clothing for the soldiers. Civilization 270 Trade. — The currents of trade begin now to flow steadily towards these centres of religious and social life. The periodical festivals and sacrifices afford oppor- tunities for exchange. A brisk barter is carried on by the assembled clansmen. Cattle, corn and fruits, metal work and woven fabrics, armour and utensils, salts' spices and gums, wines and oils, incense and perfumes, pass from owner to owner. The religious festival becomes a great fair and market. Little by little, the intervals between the periodical fairs are shortened. The population that has gathered around the religious and military nucleus steadily in- creases. Local manufactures are multiplied and trade becomes an everyday affair. Money. — The division of labour between city and coun- try, which Adam Smith described as the fundamental industrial differentiation, is now fully established. Agri- cultural produce is now regularly brought to town for the subsistence of the urban population; and the wares that are most often purchased by countrymen are regu- larly manufactured for sale. Considerable accumulations of free capital in such concrete forms as cattle, grain, implements, and stores of manufactured goods have by this time been made. Some one commodity has been exchanged more frequently than any other, and men have discovered that with it they can purchase any commodity that they may desire. Whatever this specially well-known and highly valued commodity may be, whether oxen or grain, salt, iron, copper, beads, shells, or precious metals, it is a true medium of exchange ; and as soon as by a common or tacit consent it is everywhere accepted in discharge of debts, it is a true money. 28o The Elements of Sociology The Merchant Class. — The appearance of money is followed by the development of a merchant class, which could not sooner have come into existence because the merchant must have the means to purchase all kinds of wares, and must be able to hold them in stock. He must, therefore, be able to offer in payment that which will be universally acceptable. From this time forth, the artisan and the husbandman no longer deal directly with one another : each sells to the merchant and buys from him ; and the merchant class becomes a principal element in the town population. Citizenship. — Industry and commerce weaken the tribal bonds already impaired by feudalism. To the centres of trade come men of alien tribes in search of economic gain, as they did in Greece where, as early as the time of Lycurgus, there was already a steady immigration from the Mediterranean Islands and from the Ionian settlements of the eastern coast. Unattached to the tribes with which they have cast their fortunes, but acquiring wealth and power, the mis- cellaneous elements of a town population demand juristic and political rights. Persons of distinction may get them- selves adopted into a clan or may secure the admission of their own clan into a tribe ; but these privileges are not generally accorded. It is evident that some other than the gentile basis must be found for the organization of the state. The institution-making power of sovereignty is compelled to deal with a wholly novel problem. Commercial rights are granted with but little hesitation. The foreign born are allowed, as they were at Rome, the full protection of the local law in all affairs of trade. Rights of intermarriage, however, between the newer and Civilization 281 the older population are withheld as long as possible^- To permit the aHen to marry into a local clan is to admit the wife to the worship of strange gods, and seems likely to end in intrusting to strangers the solemn sacrifices to the city's dead. So serious an innovation is not permitted until revolutionary pressure becomes irresistible. When, however, the trading class presently outnumbers the older population, and greatly surpasses it in wealth, it becomes clear that the unorganized but prosperous multitude cannot permanently be exempted from the duty of supporting and of defending the state ; and that unless in some manner it is incorporated in the body politic, it can overthrow the city that has sheltered it. It then becomes evident to all that the ancestral gods whose worship has been kept pure by the restrictions of the marriage laws are now in danger of a violent destruction. It is not, however, an easy matter to discover the best means of incorporating in a tribal state a heterogeneous multitude of unrelated men. The history of Athens and of Rome records many unsuccessful attempts to deal with this problem. Among these was one associated with the name of the legendary hero Theseus, who organized society by classes ; namely, the well-born, the husband- men, and the artisans. This was evidently an attempt to make feudal relationships and the relationship created by conquest the basis of the social system, in place of kinship. Next was made an attempt to organize society on a basis of property and military service. All freemen, though not connected with any clan, were enrolled in the army, and were given a certain voice in public affairs. The successful plan finally hit upon is associated with the name of Cleisthenes. It was exceedingly simple in 282 The Elements of Sociology principle; and it has continued to the present time. Clans and tribes had long been localized. Their names had become permanently associated with definite territo- rial limits over which they claimed jurisdiction. Within each territorial subdivision were both clansmen and stran- gers. The state simply decreed that all men who lived within the boundaries of any local subdivision of a tribal domain should be enrolled as members of the local com- munity which dwelt there ; that all who dwelt within the domain of any tribe should be enrolled as members of that tribe. Kinship might still be traced by those who cared about it ; every one could retain his clan name and his religious rites according to ancestral custom. In other words, the gentile system might be continued for social and religious purposes ; but for juristic, political, and military purposes men were organized by territorial relations, irre- spective of kinship. Thus, at length, the gentile was converted into the civil organization of society. Gradually, tribal lines were more or less artificially redrawn ; and at length it was forgotten that local boundaries ever marked tribal domains, and that village names were once the names of clans or of subdivi- sions of clans. This transition took place before or soon after the beginning of the historical period in every ancient state, — in Egypt, in Babylonia, in Greece, and in Rome. At a later time, it took place in every nation founded by the Germanic tribes that overran the Roman Empire. There, however, it was furthered and hastened by the contact with Roman institutions. The Civic Nation. — It is not to be supposed, however, that the creation of the territorial state obliterates the Civilization 283 thought of an ethnic unity. It only subordinates it to a higher ideal, in which the conception of territorial unity is given a more important place than it has hitherto held. The state still consciously strives to secure the ethnic unity of its population ; but the attempt is not now to pre- serve the purity of an ancient blood. It is rather to per- fect a new ethnic unity that is to emerge from the blending of many elements. The consciousness of kind has broad- ened ; the possibilities of assimilation are perceived ; it is realized that men who have identified their interests with those of an ancient race, who have learned its language and adopted its religion, may, by these means, become identified with it in spirit, and ultimately, through inter- marriage, may become united with it in blood. Through the influence of this idea, the fiction of adoption is pre- i served in the law of naturalization. The Spirit and Policies of Civilization. — Animated by its enlarged ideas of ethnic and territorial unity, the state enters upon the realization of a positive policy. It en- deavours to bring under one sovereignty all related peoples that speak allied languages and that have like interests. It endeavours to bring under one administration all frag- ments of territory that together form a natural whole for purposes of commerce, social intercourse, and military defence. At this stage, for the first time, the essential spirit of civilization is disclosed. That spirit is nothing more or less than a passion for homogeneity. It is a resistless desire of the social mind to secure to the utmost possible degree sympathetic and formal like-mindedness through- out a population that is believed to have the capacity for assimilation; to perfect a social composition that also 284 The Elements of Sociology shall be homogeneous throughout, and to establish over it a supreme and unified social constitution. Militarism. — This spirit now begins to work itself out through various means, the first of which is a career of aggression and conquest to bring into the enlarging state all those outlying populations that are believed to be suit- able components of the larger nation. This necessitates a perfect internal cohesion. Every interest is sacrificed to military discipline. To a great extent the organization of society becomes coercive ; and to a great degree individual freedom is sacrificed. All this has its evil side ; but it has also its good side which must not be overlooked. Military discipline was one of the first and most powerful means by which assimi- lation was brought about and a certain degree of formal like-mindedness was established throughout the early civic nation. When conquest and military organization have accom- plished their immediate purpose, and many petty states and more or less heterogeneous populations have been consolidated, the passion for homogeneity manifests itself in further policies, the object of which is to perfect the general conformity of the entire population to a prevail- ing type ; that is to say, to increase the formal like-mind- edness of the entire population of the nation and to perfect the homogeneity of the social composition. Religions Unification. — The first of these is the reli- gious policy. Religion, which has long been a medley of ancestral faiths, is made national and organic. Family, gentile, and local gods are thoroughly subordinated to the national god, who is represented by the king and the cen- tralized priesthood. The national religion is thus made Civilization 281; by its sanctions to uphold the authority of the central administration. Divine quaHties are imputed to the king, as they were in Egypt, in Judea, and in the France of Louis XIV, as they are imputed even to-day to the Czar of Russia ; and he is encouraged to assert arbitrary powers. If much difficulty is experienced in securing homoge- neity of religious faith and ceremonial, a policy of perse- cution is commonly adopted. Obstinate adherents to old faiths are subjected to such penalties as political disabil- ities, loss of property, imprisonment, or torture; and, if these are insufficient, to death. The story of this policy is a large part of the history of every nation. Sumptuary Administration. — Another policy, having in view the same end of conformity and homogeneity, is a minute regulation of individual right and conduct. The food that shall be eaten, the costumes that shall be worn, the ceremonials that shall be observed, the professions and callings that shall be followed, are all minutely de- scribed, to the end that men shall act alike, feel alike, and think alike, as members of a compact and closely unified ) national community. All this, like militancy, has its evil side ; but in the days of nation making, it has also its good side. It undoubtedly d oes promote the desired end, and results in the creation o f a homogeneous population . Isolation. — When national unity and power have fairly been achieved, and the nation is in no immediate danger of overthrow by more powerful enemies, a further policy often carried out is that of isolation. Feeling the supe- riority of its culture and institutions to those of other peoples, the nation endeavours in a measure to cut itself 286 The Elements of Sociology off from intercourse with them, lest foreign laws and man- ners shall corrupt, contaminate, and disintegrate the na- tional life. This policy may perhaps have its justification under exceptional circumstances ; but usually it has been a step towards national decay. It has been a chief factor in producing what are called "arrested civilizations," like those of China and Persia. Unstable and Stable Civilizations. — Conquest has not always ended when political integration has gone to the limit of absorbing those weaker states that are territorially adjacent to the conquering power, and are in their popu- lation and social forms fit to become component societies in a larger national state. In history ambition has repeat- edly overleaped its proper bounds, and visions of universal empire have arisen before the eyes of powerful monarchs. Egypt, Babylon, Nineveh, Macedonia, Rome, Carthage, and again Rome, one after the other, undertook to con- quer the world. Distant peoples that never could be an integral part of the conquering nation were subjugated in mere wantonness of power. While all such conquests were destined to result in ultimate failure, they had for the time being certain good consequences for civilization. The conquered peoples were made to pay tribute to the conquerors, whose capital cities increased enormously in wealth. This wealth resulted in marvellous material splendour, and in a high development of art in its first rude forms of architecture, sculpture, and painting. The early civilizations, including that of the Roman Empire, were essentially unstable because their fabulous and magnificent wealth was a continual temptation to the barbarians of the outer world who, after incursions for thousands of years into the valleys of the Nile and the Civilization 287 Euphraces, into the Grecian Peninsula, and into Italy, finally overwhelmed the Roman Empire. But the Germanic nations, simultaneously prepared for civilization by their own inherent development and by their long contact with Rome, entered upon politi- cal evolution under precisely opposite conditions. They simultaneously grew into statehood in an environment of civilization which, for ages, had lain between them and the more remote barbarism of central Africa and central Asia; and on the partial ruins of the western extension of that civilization they built. Protected thus in great measure from the danger of barbarian invasion, a danger which only twice in the history of Europe has become imminent, — once when the Huns swept in from the Asian plains, and once when the Moors, having conquered Spain, invaded France, — western or modern civilization has re- mained essentially stable. Growing side by side and too nearly equal in power for any one of them to hope to maintain supremacy over any other, the modern western nations passed through the first stage of civilization, that, namely, of political inte- gration and of a rough, effective organization of a central governing power, with less suppression of the minor inter- ests of life than occurred in Egypt and in the East. Mili- tancy has never been carried to quite the same excess among them. Isolation and religious uniformity have never been quite as rigorously enforced, although in Eu- ropean history there have been fierce religious persecu- tions, especially in France and in Spain, undertaken for the purpose of perfecting that formal like-mindedness which consists in homogeneity of belief. The Nature and Benefits of Civilization. — What have been 288 The Elements of Sociology the chief benefits conferred upon mankind, and what new features have been contributed by civihzation ? Civilization is the first stage of demogenic association. As zoogenic association was that earliest social intercourse which developed the forms of animal life ; as anthropo- genic association was that more varied intercourse which created the human mind ; as ethnogenic association was that organized intercourse which created a folk ; so demo- genic association is that intercourse, both varied and organ- ized, which develops great civic peoples, ever increasing in wealth and in population, and ever growing more demo- cratic in mind. Civilization cannot be defined in a phrase, because it includes many things, all of which are essential. It con- sists in the adoption of a permanent territorial home and of habits of settled life ; in the supremacy of the state and, therefore, of the social constitution over the entire social composition ; in the substitution of mental and moral re- semblance for kinship, as a basis of social organization; in the assimilation of various population elements in a new and larger ethnic unity; in an integration of the social composition ; and in an increasing homogeneity in politics, religion, manners, and habits. Chief among these elements of civilization, however, is that sympathetic and formal like-mindedness which is unlimited by ties of kin- ^^ ship and which, manifesting itself in a passion for homo- geneity in the nation, creates those policies of military discipline, religious conformity, and moral requirement that result in national and social unity. The homogeneity of the civic nation has had two con- sequences without which those further developments of society and of human life to be described under the head Civilization 2S9 of Progress could not have appeared. It will be remem- bered that in the account of the character and efficiency of social organization, it was shown that liberty de- pends upon homogeneity in the population. In its ear- liest stages, civilization allowed little freedom to the| individual. It permitted no growth of the voluntary forms of organization in the social constitution. But by hastening the processes of assimilation, by eliminating irreconcilable differences from the social population, by creating homogeneity, sympathetic and formal like-minded- ness, it did prepare populations for liberty later on. It made men fit for the self-government and the voluntary enterprise of a second stage of demogenic association. By bringing allied populations together in one embra- cing political organization, by perfecting the machinery of government, by eliminating causes of antagonism, civiliza- tion has also put an end to innumerable forms of conflict, to innumerable unnoticed wastes of energy, and so has liberated, for other expenditures, enormous stores of mental and physical force. The energies thus saved from waste and set free have been the cause of endless variation, differentiation, and progress in later times. PARALLEL STUDY Read Bagehot's " Physics and Politics " ; Spencer's'" Principles of Soci- ology," Volume II, Part V, Chapter XVII ; Brooks Adams's " The Law of Civilization and Decay"; and Kidd's "The Control of the Tropics." In European history, study the rise of the Roman Empire, the rise of the empire of Charlemagne, feudalism and chivalry, the reign of Philip Augustus, the persecution of the Huguenots, and the reign of Louis XIV ; and read Buckle's sketch of the history of Spain in the " Intro- duction to the History of Civilization in England." CHAPTER XXIII Progress The Nature and Causes of Progress. — In saying that the establishment of civilization is the first stage of demogenic, or civic, evolution, we do not refer to any particular period of time. Stages of social evolution are not chrono- logical periods. They are like stages in the growth of a tree, whose stem and branches must attain size and strength before there can be blossom and fruit, or like the seven ages of man, except that no nation has ever reached a second childhood. Therefore, in the study of demogenic evolution, whether our example is a nation that lived and perished ages ago, or one that is only now emerging from tribal organization, we have, before all else, to observe suc- cessive stages of development. The facts set forth in the preceding chapter, then, whether they appeared in the history of the world before the Christian era, or whether they appear now, are facts of the first stage only of civic national life. A second stage of demogenic evolution begins whenever I the nation learns to appreciate the value of unlike-minded- I ness in the population ; the value of doubt, scepticism, and denial in the social mind ; the value of individual initiative and voluntary organization ; the value, in short, of variation and criticism, as causes of progress. In other words, while civilization is established by sympathetic and formal like- 290 Progress 291 mindedness, a social organization that is no longer fixed, unyielding, hardening into a rigid system that must pres- ently decay, but is becoming ever more variable, flexible, adaptable, in a word, progressive, is a product of un- like-mindedness, discussion, and agreement, and of the resulting rational like-mindedness. On the side of the social mind, then, the second stage of civic evolution is the gradual subordination of formal to rational like-mindedness. On the side of social organiza- tion, it is the growth of the free or voluntary forms of purposive association, replacing the arbitrary coercive forms of a military system ; and in the relation of the individual to social organization, it is the substitution of liberty for authority and coercion. In common use the word "civilization " is applied to civic national life in all its phases and in every stage of its de- velopment. This use is convenient and legitimate. If, however, we follow it in sociological analysis, we must em- ploy modifying words to distinguish the successive stages of civic evolution. So doing, we may speak of that first stage which was described in the preceding chapter as a military-religious civilization. The second stage of civic evolution is a liberal-legal civilization. The forms of con-\ stitutional law and of free contract have replaced those of 1 despotic authority and of "divine right." Free Energy. — The causes of the variation, criticism, and liberality of the second stage of civic evolution are themselves generated in the first stage, as has been indi- cated. Homogeneity prepares the way for freedom. The saving of human energy by means of successful politicafl organization provides the store of energy for voluntary en- terprise in new undertakings of various kinds. 292 The Elements of Sociology The chief liberation of energy, however, occurs when, through successful military operations, all formidable ene- mies have been subjugated, and all outlying territories have been annexed. The very success of such undertak- ings brings the occupation of hundreds of thousands of men to an end. With no more worlds to conquer, they perforce turn to other than military occupations. At this point in the evolution of empires, it has always happened that great internal changes have begun. Liber- ated thought and energy have turned themselves upon domestic affairs. They have scrutinized institutions and laws. They have rebelled against a further coercion of the individual. Not infrequently, they have instigated revolutions. The material for the criticism of institutions has been abundant, since contact with other nations in military expeditions, and the annexation of state after state to the growing empire, have brought into its own sys- tem peoples, laws, manners, customs hitherto foreign and more or less strange. So much material for comparison has inevitably shown many differences as well as many resemblances in social constitutions and policies, and has yielded many suggestions for the modification or the reform of central and local governments. The Plastic Mind. — Still more important has been the great admixture of elements in the population in conse- quence of war, conquest, slavery, and trade. Both physi- cal and mental plasticity have been among the conse- quences of the assimilation of so many differing factors in the demotic composition. In the plastic consciousness of an alert and versatile population, the investigating, critical, and philosophical spirit arises. Discovery is pursued for its own sake ; and Progress 293 geography, history, and science become serious intellectual interests. Then, as different communities and different stages of culture are compared, and as the dissatisfaction with existing conditions is analyzed, the idea of a possible improvement is conceived. Protestantism, in the large sense of the word, begins to be influential, and the now fully self-conscious community undertakes its own reorgani- zation and advancement. Social Selection. — While the critical phase of mental evolution characterizes all civil societies at a certain stage, I it does so in unequal degrees. Some societies having made / a measure of progress, become stationary ; others remain merely modifiable ; a few continue to be inherently pro- gressive. These inequalities are explained by selection. Survival and selection confirm the variability and the grow- ing power of some societies, the modifiability of others, and^ the rigidity of others. They fix the type of each nation- ality and of each community. Types of society result. The United States, England, and Germany are inherently progressive nations. Ireland and the Slavonic provinces of Austria and of Turkey are modifiable ; Spain and the French provinces of Canada are arrested or stationary societies. A continual sifting goes on. Energetic young men hasten from meagre opportunities and social stagnation to improve their condition where resources are more abundant and the population is more active. By this means, as well as by the birth rate, the predominance of youthful alert minds in progressive communities is increased. The community, however, reacts upon the individual. The influence of social selection in favouring those who 294 "^he Elements of Sociology conform to a dominant spirit is quite as important as is that of natural selection in developing those that are adapted to a physical environment. Selection may ex- clude, suppress, or modify those who show too much vari- ability. A man whose appearance or whose mental or moral qualities are objectionable to his fellows, finds few economic opportunities ; and, other things being equal, he has a relatively small chance of leaving offspring. It makes a great difference, therefore, whether the prevailing feeling in a community is favourable to enterprise or to a hopeless conservatism. One community desires change ; it admires enterprise. Another cares only to keep things as they are. Even in the local communities of the same commonwealth, these differences may be seen. Selection favours the variable type in one ; the unmodifiable type in another. The discipline of early life creates progressive habits in one place ; elsewhere it represses every impulse to change. Thus social selection operates not only to favour enter- prising individuals in the progressive community, and to sort out the enterprising individuals from communities that are unprogressive ; but it operates also on the double personality of each individual. Every man is complex, containing within himself both progressive and conserva- tive tendencies. If the spirit of the community in which he lives is progressive, the progressive tendencies in his nature are stimulated, and the conservative tendencies are atrophied. Furthermore, those individuals are developed whose talents are in demand and, in the same individual, the group of talents that is of immediate service, is brought to a relative perfection. One period favours the soldier, an- Progress 295 other the business man, another the poet, another the man of science. If a genius is born in a conservative community, either he seeks a more congenial social envi- ronment elsewhere, or his genius is crushed before it is strong enough to assert itself. If he is born where men care nothing for the things in which he might excel, he never realizes the possibilities of his nature. When, therefore, a mode of feeling becomes dominant, selection intensifies it. Selection has produced the Ameri- can spirit, with its desire for change, its love of experi- ment, and its respect for enterprise. In the United States, there is a continual weeding out of unenterprising elements. In like manner, the cities are more enterpris- ing and more varying than the rural communities ; and this difference between city and country has been in- creasing for many years. Liberal Organization. — The nation that has become prot- estant and progressive has to face the task of achieving a social organization that shall maintain unity and stabil- ity, and yet shall guarantee liberty. Constitutional Law. — From comparative studies of re- ligions, laws, and policies, two guiding ideas have sprung. One is the notion of a jus gentium — a customary law that, in its essential rules, is the same in all nations. In its infancy, each nation has regarded itself as a pecul- iar people. It has cherished its law as a body of unique and unequalled wisdom. When, therefore, after it has subjugated alien peoples, and has annexed their lands, and has discovered that their systems of law differ only in form and detail from its own, its conception of the nature of law necessarily undergoes a profound change. It finds itself obliged to think of law as consisting more of general 296 The Elements of Sociology than of peculiar principles. It begins to think of certain principles as universally true, and to identify them with society. It observes, moreover, that the universal rules of customary law are independent of the forms of govern- ment ; and it begins to regard them, therefore, as of superior authority, and to believe that governments should themselves be subject to the universally accepted rules of right. The other guiding idea is that of the jus naturce ; and it is so closely related to the notion of a jtcs gentium as often to be identified with it. Both historically and philo- sophically, however, the jus natjirce is distinct. The jus gentium is objective. It is a body of actually sanctioned rules, actually operative in many different states. The jus naturce is subjective and speculative. It is the result of a philosophical attempt to find the rational grounds of moral conduct. It is a set of ideal rules that reason ap- proves of ; or, as Cicero says, it " is the highest reason im- planted in nature, which commands those things that ought to be done, and prohibits those that ought not to be." From this conception of ideal law to an idealized con- ception of the jus gentitim, the transition is easy; and the two conceptions are often confounded, as they are by Gaius, when he says that "whatever natural reason has decreed amongst men is cherished equally by all nations, and is called the jus gentium, as if all nations employed it " ; and as they are many centuries later by Jeremy Taylor, when he writes that " the law of nature is the universal law of the world, or the law of mankind, concerning com- mon necessities to which we are inclined by nature, invited by consent, prompted by reason, but is bound upon us only by the command of God." Progress 297 From such ideas the inference follows that the people rather than their governments are the creators of sub- stantive law ; and that the people, as rational moral beings, ought to hold themselves and their governments to the obedience of that " highest law " which, once more to quote Cicero, " was born in all the ages before any law was written or state was formed," which began to be "at the same moment with the mind of God." Prolonged reflection upon these conclusions yields fruit at length in discussion ; and sooner or later public interest in them is thoroughly aroused. A legal constitution of society is seen to be possible. The demand becomes in- sistent that governments shall cease to exercise arbitrary powers, and that liberty of thought and action within the limits prescribed by reason shall be guaranteed to every individual. It is unnecessary to tell here the story of the rebellions and the revolutions through which the de- mand has been enforced. If events take their natural course, the normal outcome is everywhere the same. Charters and guarantees are wrested from kings whose./ divine right has ceased to inspire fear. Little by little, legislation is interwoven with precedent, and the strong fabric of constitutional law is wrought. The powers of| governments are limited, and their duties are defined. Freedom of contract also is established as the legal basis of the minor relations of life. Voluntary Association.— Yxom this time forth, volun- tary organization, under the authority and protection of law, can assume endless varieties of form and function. The social constitution differentiates and redifferentiates until it becomes a structure of exceeding complexity, delicately adapted to the service of an enterprising and 298 The Elements of Sociology progressive people. It becomes more and more distinct from the social composition. The church is separated from the organization of the state, and is made subject to the political sovereign. There is a rapid development of a free decentralized industrial organization. The minor forms of cooperative association are multiplied ; and the division of labour is perfected. The Policies of Liberalism. — When a people has con- sciously entered upon the progressive stage of civic evolu- tion, it usually attempts to perfect its liberal-legal civiliza- tion by a conscious policy, as people in the military-religious civilization endeavour by definite policies to perfect and maintain that. The policies by which the liberal-legal civilization is perfected are naturally quite the opposite of those by which a military-religious civilization is established. In many respects rational like-mindedness is different from the formal like-mindedness whose chief component is belief, rather than the opinion that is created by free discussion. World Intercourse. — First, then, among the policies by which the liberal-legal civilization is perfected is the en- couragement of the widest and freest world intercourse. The contact with other peoples, customs, manners, and thought is recognized as the indispensable condition for catholicity of view and alertness of mind. Progressive peoples invariably distrust any policy that tends towards isolation. Free Thought. — Secondly, progress is assured by en- couraging the fullest investigation and the freest discus- sion of every subject. Instead of trying to compel all men to accept the same beliefs taught by authority, the Progress 299 progressive nation encourages every man to think for himself, to develop his own mental powers, to take an independent position upon every question and interest, knowing full well that reason is not a chaotic or lawless power, but is one that invariably brings men to agreement upon the basis of real knowledge and demonstrated truth. Legality. — -Thirdly, the progressive nation tries to perfect its liberal-legal civilization by a continued study of law and development of legality, which it is ever striving to substitute for arbitrary authority, not only in government, but in all social relations. Only that nation which succeeds in perfecting the constitutional, that is to say the legal and rational, methods of government and procedure, can preserve both individual liberty and public order. The History of Progress. — In the historical development of civilization, many nations that have entered upon the; second stage of civic evolution have been unable to com- plete it. ' Greece was the first of such nations ; Rome was the I second. Athens splendidly developed the critical and/ philosophical features of the second stage of civic evolu- tion ; but she failed in legal construction. Rome exhibited great practical talent in legal construction ; but she failed . to maintain a healthy spirit of criticism. Liberty and spontaneity of life were sacrificed to administrative mecha- I nism. In both Greece and Rome the failure was due to the never-ending necessity of maintaining a highly efficient military organization — with its inevitable inci- dents of arbitrary power — in the face of formidable enemies. It was not until after the downfall of the Roman Empire, 300 The Elements of Sociology and the establishment upon its ruins of the modern Euro- pean nations founded by the Germanic tribes, that it was possible to perfect a liberal-legal civilization in any part of the world. The beginnings of modern progress are to be studied in the magnificent history of the Italian cities, of Florence, Venice, Sienna, and Bologna. The develop- ment of liberalism continued through the Renaissance, the Protestant Reformation, the English Revolution, the great eighteenth-century awakening of thought in France, England, and Germany, the American Revolution, the French Revolution, the Free Trade and Reform Movements in England, and the German Liberal Movement of 1848. All of these awakenings and upheavals were but so many phases of a thorough-going criticism and reconstruction of social policies and social constitutions on lines of rationality, legality, liberty, and free association. It has not happened that in the life of any modern nation or family of nations, the first and second stages of civic evolution have been absolutely distinct. There has been much overlapping. Italy and Germany attained to national unity only in recent years, long after they had been profoundly affected by the general liberal movement, and after other European states had passed through the stage of constitutional reconstruction. Even in these in- stances, however, the true sequence is the one that has been described. United Germany and united Italy had only entered on their civil life when their political con- solidation was accomplished. In both countries, the prac- tical problems of constitutional organization and of liberty are yet unsolved. Contributions to Well-being. — Liberal-legal civilization is thus a product of variation, of unlike-mindedness, of criti- Progress 301 cism and discussion, and of rational like-mindedness. The^ contributions tliat it lias made to human well-being, and , the modifications that it has introduced in the social I system are : first, appreciation of the value of as much unlike-mindedness as is consistent with social stability ; second, the growing supremacy of reason over impulse i and formality ; third, the appreciation of criticism ; fourth, the establishment of individual freedom, of legality, of[ voluntary organization, and of freedom of contract ; and fifth, the introduction of flexibility, not inconsistent with unity and stability, in the social constitution. PARALLEL STUDY Study the periods of the Renaissance, the Reformation, and the French Revolution. Read Mill's " Liberty " or Rousseau's " Social Contract." Read Dicey's " The Law of the Constitution." CHAPTER XXIV Democracy Wealth and Population. — There is a third stage of civic evolution upon which nations enter when they have so far perfected the liberal-legal civilization that they have a strong constitutional government to maintain social order and, at the same time, practically unlimited freedom of individual enterprise and voluntary organization. When, in such a nation, the most urgent problems of constitutional government have been solved, men turn their attention seriously to the task of improving their material condition, and give themselves earnestly to indus- trial affairs. Then is witnessed a marvellous development of invention, of mechanical progress and industrial organi- zation, and an enormously rapid growth of wealth. Con- sequent upon this economic progress, there is an astonish- ing growth of population, which brings with it new and complicated social problems, especially those that grow out of the relations of employers and employed and the aspirations of the working classes. The final outcome is a development of democracy, and coincident with it a marked development of ethical interest. This third stage of civic evolution may, therefore, be called an economic- ethical civilization, or it may, with equal propriety, be called a democratic civilization. Prosperity the Offspring of Liberty. — In studying this 302 Democracy 303 mode of civilization, the student should particularly ob- serve that it is a consequence of the high development of a free social constitution in the liberal-legal stage of evolution. More than a hundred years ago, Adam Smith, in his treatise on "The Wealth of Nations," clearly showed that the growth of wealth is a consequence of the divi- sion of labour and of freedom of individual initiative. His work was written just at the time when the nations of America, France, and England were working out the problems of constitutional government and freedom of contract. Subsequent events have verified Adam Smith's theory more conclusively than any proposition of similar importance has been verified in the whole history of social science. The growth of wealth and of population in western Europe and in the United States during this century of political and industrial liberty has been, as a great English statistician has called it, "a phenomenon absolutely unique in history." Moreover, the most rapid growth has occurred in the freest country, the United States, where a popula- tion of 3,929,214 in 1790 had increased to 62,622,250 in 1890. In 1850 the great nations of the world in order of population were Russia, France, Austro-Hungary, Ger- many, the United Kingdom, Italy, the United States. In 1880 the order had become: Russia, the United States, Germany, Austro-Hungary, France, the United Kingdom, Italy. This rapid increase of population has been due, not so much to any increase in birth rates, as to a great decrease in death rates in consequence of more abundant food sup- plies, of sanitary improvements, and of the advance of medical science. 304 lli^ Elements of Sociology The relations of the increase of wealth to the increase of population are those of a slow rhythm ; and this rhythm is related also to continuing changes in the ideas of the popu- lation, and particularly in the standard of living. The Malthusian Law. — Early in the present century, Thomas Robert Malthus, in a famous work on "Popula- tion," put forth the theory that population tends to in- crease more rapidly than the means of subsistence. Actually it cannot increase more rapidly, because when subsistence fails, population is held in check by famine, disease, and war. The only means, according to Malthus, whereby mankind can prevent this calamity is prudence in marriage. If men made sure that they could win sub- sistence for themselves and for their families before they contracted marriage, all would go well, and population would keep within the means of subsistence. In the absence of this prudential check, the positive checks of famine, disease, and war necessarily come into operation. Later studies of wealth and population have shown that Malthus's theory is essentially true, but that his formulas need restatement. Industrial and commercial progress, especially those forms of progress that we owe to inven- tion, may for a time insure such an abundant production of the bare necessaries of life that subsistence in this narrow sense of the word is put far in advance of popula- tion. No community, however, is satisfied with subsist- ence of this merely physiological kind. In a progressive community, the standard of living is continually rising. The people are continually feeling new desires, and are putting forth new efforts and submitting to fresh sacrifices to realize them. In distinction from the standard of living as thus understood and as defined on page 157, is Democracy 305 the plane of living of the community. This is the actual possession and enjoyment of certain necessaries, comforts, and luxuries. Or, expressed in other words, the plane of living is the level of subsistence and comfort to which a population, at any given time, has actually attained. The plane of living is an objective fact, while the stand- ard of living is a subjective fact — a fact of thought, desire, and purpose. Bearing these distinctions in mind, the student of Sociology, when investigating this problem of the relation of wealth to population, should fix his attention, not on the amount of wealth that is necessary to keep the population alive, but on the amount that is necessary to raise the general plane of living, generation after generation. In a progressive community, the plane of living should continually approach the rising standard. That is, both the ideal and the actuality of subsistence and of comfort should rise. What actually happens is this : From time to time, new opportunities are discovered, as they were when the great western domains of the United States were opened to settlement and cultivation — new means of communication are perfected, and new inventions, like the steam-engine, or the electric dynamo, give mankind a greater command over natural forces. At such times, wealth rapidly out- runs population. At other times, however, the pace of industry slackens. The new developments are less numer- ous and of less importance. Perhaps the machinery of commerce and industry itself becomes disorganized, and the production of wealth is checked. At such times, population continues to increase until there is a real pressure upon those means of both comfort and subsist- ence that constitute the actual plane of living. In other 3o6 The Elements of Sociology words, it becomes difficult to maintain an increasing popu- lation at the established plane of living, although there might be no difficulty whatever in obtaining mere food to sustain animal life in a population much larger. Two results follow. One is that preponderating influ- ence of youth to which the French philosopher and sociologist Comte rightly attached importance as a true cause of progress. The other is an intense competition that sharpens the wits of the successful and eliminates the unsuccessful. Invention has its day again, and in- dustrial progress begins anew. Accordingly, in progressive communities the real strug- gle is not to provide mere subsistence for an increasing population. It is not to produce wealth with sufficient rapidity to prevent a lowering of the plane of living as pop- ulation increases. It is rather to raise the plane of living towards a higher standard of life for a multiplying popula- tion, the growth of which is both contemplated and de- sired. This cannot be accomplished without a continued activ- ity of invention, without a continuing improvement of industrial organization, and in all the arts of production. The corrected Malthusian formula, therefore, is as follows : ' In any given state of industry and the arts, population tends to increase faster than it is possible to raise the gen- eral plane of living. In other words, when industry is stationary, the full rigour of the Malthusian law is inevitably felt. Only when industry is continually progressive can there be a general elevation of the plane of living coincidently with a growth of population. Consequently, in modern nations, nothing Democracy 307 is of more fundamental importance than the maintenance of those free forms of social organization and of those opportunities for individual initiative, invention, and enter- prise, which, together, constitute both the factors of prog- ress and the elements of a flexible social constitution. Demotic Complexity. — The growth of wealth and of numbers and the greater tension of life increase the hete- rogeneity of civil populations. They establish complex relations between the different race elements and the dif- ferent strata of population on the one hand, and the division of labour in the social constitution on the other hand. The demotic constitution becomes more varied ; the differences of vitality and ability become greater ; and there appears a tendency to identify each race element, each degree of vitality, and each grade of ability with a definite place in the social organization. Different nations possessing unequal natural advantages and enjoying unequal degrees of constitutional liberty are unequally prosperous; and their citizens, free to seek their political and economic well-being in any part of the world, migrate more readily than in any former age. In fact, so sensitive have they become to every change in industrial conditions that the increase and decrease of migration is as regular as the rise and fall of prices. Moreover, the thousands of mi- grating men seek not only those parts of the world where their labour is likely to be best rewarded, but they seek also those places in the industrial organization in which the greatest returns are offered for the work that they know how to perform. Here, however, the economic causation is greatly complicated by the influence of that primary consciousness of kind which turns upon identity of race and language. 308 The Elements of Sociology For example, if in the United States each incoming nationality were distributed by purely economic motives throughout all occupations and organizations, its influ- ence as a disturbing factor in social development would be slight. It is because each nationality shows a strong tendency to mass itself geographically, politically, and industrially that we have a serious immigration problem. The history of our foreign immigration down to the pres- ent time shows that each incoming nationality, instead of distributing itself among the different political parties, tends to vote almost solidly with some one preferred party. Instead of distributing itself among all industries, it tends to mass itself in one or two preferred employments. Ger- mans have practically displaced other nationalities in the United States in the crafts of the baker, the butcher, the cabinet-maker, the cigar maker, the cooper, the leather currier, the marble and stone cutter, the mason, and the tailor. In some of the great cities, however, like New York, the Bohemians have recently been displacing the Germans in cigar making, while the Russian and Polish Jews have taken practical possession of the garment trades. The advancing specialization of industrial and social functions multiplies the inequalities of vitality throughout all distributions of the population. The foreign born who, by their change of residence, have generally bettered their condition, have a relatively high birth rate ; but on account of an imperfect adaptation to new conditions of life, the death rate of their children is high. Older ele- ments in the population have a death rate that by con- trast is low, and a birth rate that also is low. In the geographical distribution of population, those Democracy 309 groups that are participating in the highest civilization, and that are ambitious to raise their plane of living, but whose resources are not expanding, and whose industrial methods are not rapidly improving, have a low birth rate and a low death rate. Such groups compose, for example, the populations of the valleys of the Loire and the Ga- ronne in France, and the populations of the New Eng- land and Middle States in the United States. Such groups as the populations of Ille-et-Vilaine and Basses- Pyrenees in France which still lead a relatively simple life, and such groups as the population of the northwest- ern commonwealths of the United States which are yet exploiting new resources by improving methods, have the high vitality that is expressed by the coincidence of a high birth rate with a low death rate. Differences of ability, even more than differences of vitality, are increased by demogenic evolution. From the three personality classes are developed three psychical ranks. The first rank, which is identical with the first person- ality class, — described in Chapter X, — consists of those individuals that have more than average intellectual ability. The second rank, which coincides with the ablest half of the second personality class, includes all normally endowed individuals that have enough ability to conduct business undertakings on a moderate scale, and thereby to maintain their economic independence. The third rank includes the less competent half of the second and the entire third personality class. These differences of ability closely correspond to dif- ferences of social function. Roughly, they correspond also to differences of economic condition. The directive 3IO The Elements of Sociology work of society in politics, business, the professions, science, and art is done by the first psychical rank, which, therefore, because directive work is better paid than any other, includes most of the very wealthy mem- bers of the community. It includes, however, also some of the poor, and many of those who are in merely comfort- able circumstances. The middle rank, which is mentally and morally independent, and is critical rather than origi- native and directive, accepts the advice and leadership of the first rank, but in its own way, applying or modifying with self-confident judgment. This rank enjoys the re- wards of thrift. In the aggregate, it owns a great part of the property of the commonwealth. The third rank does the closely directed work of the community ; and without some supervision it would be almost helpless. Naturally the third rank is poor. The demographic relations thus far described are yet further combined. The vitality classes and the psychical ranks are not independent of one another. The second psychical rank coincides with the first vitality class. The first psychical rank coincides with the second vitality class. The first psychical rank, however, is in great part descended from the first vitality class. The third vitality class is in part descended from the first psychical rank. These complications are combined also with the dis- tribution of population between city and country. That part of the population which constitutes the first vitality class and second psychical rank is composed largely of the rural population. The remaining psychical ranks consist largely of the city population. These groupings, however, are not fixed or arbitrary. Democracy 311 There are many exceptions, and individuals from any vitality class may find their way into any psychical rank ; while individuals of any vitality class or any psychical rank may be found in either city or country. Origin and Nature of Democracy. — Gradations and dis- tributions of population that result in the evolution of a 1 demotic system result also in a democratic development ■ of the social mind. The population rank that earns wages by manual labour confronts the rank that directs activity and accumulates wealth. The wage-earners are well acquainted with onei important fact of history. They know that the commer-' cial class once demanded and obtained a share in the political power that had been monopolized by the well- born. They have seen how governments have been used to shape economic conditions and to control the distribu- tion of wealth ; and they reason that the labourer must share in the law-making power before he can hope to share largely in the results of economic progress. They observe that the suffrage has been associated with prop- erty-owning and with the payment of direct taxes ; and] accordingly they demand an unrestricted manhood suf- frage. The demand is effective because it is backed by the promise of votes to the party that will grant the franchise, just as the demand of the merchants in the thirteenth century was effective because it was backed by the offer of revenue to the king. Now one party and now another enlarges the electorate by extending the franchise to a particular section of the working class, as the English Tories, for example, extended it to the town artisans, and the English Liberals to the agricult- ural labourers, and as both of the great American parties 312 The Elements of Sociology have extended it — the one to immigrant labourers and the other to emancipated slaves. Democracy thus established in the electorate is soon followed by a demand that governments shall be developed into gigantic agencies for the improvement of the working I masses. The state is called upon to assume educational and sanitary responsibilities. At the same time, an in- creasingly insistent demand is heard for systems of taxa- tion that will throw the cost of public undertakings upon the well-to-do. These ideas and purposes are not confined to the wage- earning classes. Both the ideas and the purposes appeal to many of the wealthy and the learned, who believe that essential justice can be realized only in a social democ- racy. Adopted and defended by men of culture, demo- cratic ideas gradually transform public opinion and shape the popular ideals. From the moment that the conception of democracy takes possession of the social mind, the entire further course of social evolution is bound up with the develop- ment of democracy, and with its success as a system of social organization and of government. False Notions of Democracy. — One of the first obstacles that the democratic system has to overcome is a false notion of its true nature, which long lingers in the minds of those members of the community who have belonged hitherto to privileged classes. In this false conception, democracy is identified with the absolute rule of the poor and ignorant portion of the population, or, at the best, with the rule of that part of the population which is de- pendent upon opportunities for wage-earning employment. The government of society was for ages in the hands of. Democracy 3 1 3 a privileged class ; and the wage-earning classes were excluded from any participation in legislation or admin- istration. Therefore, democracy is often conceived as a system in which government will be in the hands of the so-called masses, by whom the aristocratic portion of the community will, in its turn, be excluded from participa- tion in public affairs. It is indeed possible that such a turning of the tables might take place. But the resulting system would not be democracy: it would be the rule of a class just as aristoc- racy was the rule of a class. Democracy is the participa- tion of the entire people in government, and the employ- ment of the powers of government for the benefit of the entire people. A true democracy is that system which Abraham Lincoln described as a "government of the people, by the people, and for the people." Inasmuch, however, as democratic government is a deci- sion of public questions by a majority of votes, it may of course practically happen that the theoretical idea of democracy is not realized, and that actual rule in the state is exercised by an ignorant part of the population, having little capacity for self-government or for governing the commonwealth. The historian Lecky, in a work on "Democracy and Liberty," has argued that in practice democracy is necessarily the rule of ignorance, and that, in the long run, it will be subversive of liberty. This he endeavours to prove by showing that in every modern country the ignorant and poor are a majority, and that therefore if every man has one vote, and every vote has the same value, government is necessarily the rule of igno- rance ; and by showing that in practice during the present century democracy has diminished the stability of govern- 314 The Elements of Sociology ments, has enormously increased taxes and public debts, has confiscated property for alleged public benefits, has restricted liberty in the alleged interests of the working classes, and has tended to give the balance of power in society to the emotional rather than to the rational ele- ments of the population. That democracy has not only made many blunders, but has been guilty of many indefensible policies, its strongest advocates wrill not deny. To argue, however, that it must necessarily and permanently be the rule of ignorance, and that it must therefore necessarily result in the disintegra- tion of society, is to betray a very inadequate knowledge of the subject. Analysis of Democracy. — Democracy is more than a form of government ; and those who see in it nothing else have hardly made a beginning towards understanding it. Scientifically, democracy is a form of government, or a form of the state, or a form of society, or a combination of all three. As a form of government, democracy is the actual ad- ministration of political affairs through universal suffrage. Completely carried out, democracy as a form of govern- ment would be the actual decision of every question of legal and executive detail, no less than of every question of right and policy, by a direct popular vote. Something closely approaching this has been accomplished in the New England town meeting and in some of the cantonal governments of Switzerland. There has never been any such thing, however, as a strictly democratic form of gov- ernment on a large scale. Democracy as a form of the state is popular sovereignty. It is a popular distribution of formal political power. It is Democracy 315 the right of the masses of the people to participate in the creation of the government or machinery of administration. It may act through representative institutions as well as directly. Democracy as a form of society is, in the first place, a democratic organization and control of the non-political forms of association. In a perfectly democratic society, not only must the state be democratic, but the church, the industrial organization, and the educational organization likewise must be democratic. Democracy as a form of society is, in the second place, a distribution among the entire people of that indefinite, unformed, but actual politi- cal power which lies back of the formal power that regis- ters its decisions through the act of voting. In the chapter on Constituent Societies, a distinction was made between the makers of legal authority and the makers of moral authority. The state is democratic when all its people, without distinction of birth, class, or rank, participate in the making of legal authority. Society is democratic only when all people without distinction of rank or class partici- pate in the making of public opinion and of moral au- thority. Character of Democracy. — When these distinctions are, perceived, it is easily understood that the state may be| democratic while society is yet aristocratic or oligarchic] Universal suffrage may give to every adult male member of the community the right to vote ; and yet, in all except political relations, a majority of the voters may be living under a system of social organization that is essentially aristocratic or even monarchical. In their industrial re- lations, and in their schools and churches, voters may have practically no voice whatever in determining organization 3i6 The Elements of Sociology or policy. Moreover, although voting in the political organization, they may be contributing nothing whatever to public opinion or moral authority, because their intel- lectual development is too slight to enable them to take an independent attitude on any question, or to add anything to the sum total of new thought. While, therefore, it is conceivable that ignorant masses, when given the right to vote, may actually attempt in their voting to give expression to their own ignorant notions, there is evidently no necessity for thinking that a general election registers a really popular judg- ment. It is quite as likely that tradition, custom, imita- tion, industrial conditions, indefinite modes of economic and social pressure, may conspire to make a popular election nothing more than an endorsement of the policy of a few individuals. Therefore, whether democracy is the rule of ignorance or not, is a question that depends upon the sort of leader- ship to which the majority of all voters in any common- wealth yield their allegiance. For unless society is no less democratic 'than the state, — a condition of things that can exist only when all socii are educated, thoughtful men, — the majority do not independently rule at all, but merely f ndorse the policy of their leaders. When democ- racy is/tlje rule of ignorance in fact, as sometimes it cer- tainly is, the masses do not rule through their ignorance, but through their deference to great humbugs or great scoundrels, who know how to manipulate their followers for the success of personal schemes. When, on the contrary, the masses are led by patriotic and wise statesmen, as happens in serious crises when the better instincts of human nature are appealed to, the rule of the majority Democracy 317 becomes the rule of the intelligence and morality of the community. The Success or Failure of the democratic experiment in the third stage of civic evolution therefore turns upon thjs relation of. the many who imitate, accept guidance, and yield allegiance, to the comparatively few who invent, who think independently, who have the gift of leadership, and the ability to organize their fellow-men. This relationship, which has always existed in human society, must, unless humanity in the future becomes totally unlike the humanity of the past and of to-day, continue to be one of the funda- mental facts of the social system. In other words, we shall never get rid of that natural aristocracy which is made up of the talented, the wise, the unselfish and generous, who have the ability and the wish to plan, to organize, and to lead. If we are wise we shall never wish to get rid of it. The only aristocracy that the people should wish to destroy is that which is constituted by artificial distinctions, by inherited titles, and inherited privileges. No community can make a more fatal mistake than that of confounding natural with artificial superiority. Democracy is fatal to the latter. Without the former, democracy itself cannot hope long to exist. In short, the success of democracy depends upon the existence in society of that preeminent social class which was described in Chapter XI, and upon its domination or successful leadership. Perils of Democracy. — There are, however, grave obsta- cles to the continuous domination of the wisest elements of the social class. Some of these we have now to exam- ine in a further description of the third stage of civic evolution, and a further analysis of the task of democracy. 3i8 The Elements of Sociology Costs of Progress. — Material progress is not an unmixed good. Progress costs not only effort, but also suffering. Every discovery and every invention destroys some busi- ness and throwfs wage-earners out of employment. Every development of social organization breaks up long-estab- lished relations. For the most part, these costs of prog- ress are borne by individuals who receive few of the benefits purchased by their sufferings, while the benefi- ciaries of change themselves rarely suffer the distress that is caused by the destruction of the old order. Some of those who are displaced by social or industrial progress, quickly find their way into new positions. Others have no power of adaptation : they sink to a lower plane of living and never recover from their misfortunes. Degeneration. — The cost of progress takes also the form of a moral and physiological degeneration, which is caused by excessive activity and the overstimulation of ambition. The greater the rate of progress, the heavier does this cost become ; the faster the march, the larger is the number of the exhausted who fall by the way. Prog- ress, like any other form of motion in the universe, starts reactions against itself. In the population, degeneration manifests itself in the various forms of suicide, insanity, crime, and vice, which most abound in the highest civilization, where the tension of life is extreme, and in those places from which civili- zation has ebbed and from which population has been drained, leaving a discouraged remnant to struggle against deteriorating conditions. Social Disintegration. — Degeneracy in the population is inevitably followed by degeneration in both the social composition and the social constitution. Democracy 3 in In the social composition, the effect is felt chiefly in the family. There is a lowering of the moral tone of the community in regard to the obligations of family life, and a tendency to view marriage as a convenience or a pleas- ure, which can at pleasure be dissolved. Legal obstacles to its dissolution are not tolerated by a community of irri- table, sentimental, and egoistic men and women who have found life disappointing; and the result is a continuing increase in the number of divorces. Degeneration in the social constitution manifests itself chiefly in a disintegration of cities. In the city are all the startling contrasts of civilization. The enormous disparity of wealth, in which a highly organized industry has re- sulted, is here revealed to every eye. Knowledge and culture that are the perfect fruit of all human progress until now are brought face to face with brutish ignorance. Into this dangerous combination of conditions enters the demoralizing factor of personal degeneration. Many of the rich, although happily not a majority, forget their obligations to their fellow-men, and surrender themselves to the pursuit of personal enjoyments and ambitions. Many of the poor, although happily not a majority, give ear to anarchism or seek comfort in the socialistic dream. They withdraw themselves as far as possible from contact with the rich, and cherish the hope of organizing the working classes or "proletariat" into an irresistible force, and of taking possession of all the organs of government. This latter form of social disintegration, if it proceeds far, is the most serious of all dangers, since it attempts to establish that illegitimate democracy, which consists in the absolute rule of the least competent part of the popu- lation, to the exclusion of all remaining portions of the 320 The Elements of Sociology people. This has twice happened in modern history for short intervals of time: once in the closing days of the French Revolution ; and once in the reign of the Com- mune of Paris in 187 1. Emotionalism. — Even if all these dangers are held in check, there remains another that must continually be guarded against in a democratic society. It is the danger of a subordination of rational public action to emotional impulses. We have seen that in every population men are more alike in emotion and in impulse than in intellect. Consequently, it is only when the greatest respect for in- tellectual activity and for self-control is maintained, and when an efficient social organization largely destroys fear, that the danger of impulsive social action in a democracy is prevented from becoming threatening. The Safe-guarding of Democracy. — Let us not suppose, however, that these dangers, inherent in the third stage of civic evolution and characteristic of democracy, are so serious as to destroy our faith in the permanence of civili- zation or of popular government. Intelligent and brave men are not dismayed by danger. The good citizen sees in the perils that threaten society only an occasion for more active effort, more earnest thought, and more unself- ish devotion to duty. The third stage of civic evolution brings with it, as a characteristic product, an influence that counteracts the dangers which have been described, and offers to the community an assurance of continued stability and progress. That influence is a growing ethi- cal spirit, and the formation of the highest mode of like- mindedness, namely, the ethical. The Ethical Spirit. — The limitations and reactions of progress arrest public attention. Sympathy for the un- Democracy 321 fortunate is quickened by the spectacle of misery in the midst of splendour ; and the conscience of society begins to demand that systematic efforts shall be made to miti- gate suffering and thus to minimize the dangers that threaten the community. Private philanthropy vies with legislation in attempts to diminish poverty and crime, and ultimately in attempts to improve the general life condi- tions of the masses. Much of this endeavour is senti- mental; and not a little of it is mischievous. Gradually, however, intelligence is enlisted. In a measure, philan- j thropic passion is brought under the direction of reason and made more efficient for good. The social mind under- j goes a profound moral experience. It begins to develop] an ethical character. It is this awakening of the moral! reason which prevents any serious undoing of the work of social evolution. It is the rational-ethical consciousness that maintains social cohesion in a progressive democracy. The Stability of Democracy thus depends, first, upon the acceptance by the many of guidance from those whose superiority is real because consisting in intellectual abili- ties and in moral character, not in artificial social distinc- tions or in pretentious claims ; secondly, upon an unselfish activity on the part of the superior few. They must not only have the ability to plan and guide; but they must also put forth that ability, if need be at the sacrifice of their personal comfort and ambition. As the patriot is willing to lay down his life in defence of his country, the good citizen must be willing to sacrifice convenience and business advantage in the eflFort to maintain an honest and efficient system of social order. He must freely give time and strength to the promotion of education, to the reform of social and industrial abuses, and to the 322 The Elements of Sociology betterment of the conditions under which the great majority of his fellow-men are compelled to live. In fact, this unselfish activity of individuals who by nature are qualified to plan and to guide, is the controlling ele- ment in the entire social order of an economic-ethical civilization. It is the fact upon which the fate of democ- racy ultimately turns, because, if the natural aristocracy among men is in fact unselfish, it will not fail to hold the allegiance and secure the faithful following of the many. The instincts of the mass of mankind are now, as they always have been, thoroughly sound. In all ages, the true patriot has received the unstinted homage of his fellow-men ; and they have been willing to follow him, to make sacrifices with him, even to lay down their lives with him, just in the measure that they have believed in his sincerity. In this way men always will act as they always have acted. If those who are qualified to lead by their conduct show that they are actuated not by personal ambition but by love of country and of mankind, there will be no failure of the experiment of democracy. The Duties of Leadership. — This, however, is assum- ing that true leaders of the people bring their intelligence as well as their sincerity of motive to bear upon the duties that they owe to society. The normal function of leader- ship may well be conceived, as it has been by Mr. Mallock, in terms of that relation which, in the business world, is called supply and demand. In relation to "demand," men are far more alike and far more nearly equal than in relation to "supply." For example, all men need clothing and houses ; they are alike and equal in this respect. It is only a small pro- portion of all men, however, that have the skill to design Democracy ,21? and to manufacture clothing ; that have the skill to design and to build houses. So it is with respect to other things. The preliminary work of supplying satisfactions for human needs consists of invention, planning, and organizing. In all its higher developments, it is a kind of work that can be accomplished only by men of great and special talent. Of all the millions of men that have lived in the world, less than a hundred have made important discover- ies in the adaptation of steam and electric power to the industrial arts, although many thousands have contributed lesser inventions in matters of detail. Less than a hundred thousand have contributed any strictly new thought or invention to the vast system of railroad, steamship, and telegraphic communication by which all parts of the \yorld are now bound together in commercial and intellectual intercourse. Less than a single million have contributed any important thought or deed to the perfection of the sys- tem of constitutional government and law, whereby social order and individual liberty are combined and reconciled in a successfully working system. All mankind, then, par- ticipates in needs which call for satisfaction. All mankind participates in the work or labour of creating the supply of \ those things that serve as means of satisfaction ; but only ; a small part of mankind participates in that most difficult and fundamental work of all — the thinking of how to supply, the invention of means, and the organization of the I various forms of cooperation by which the invented means are brought to bear upon the practical problem. Thus the function of those who have the ability to plan and to guide in a democratically organized society, is that of devising means to supply the necessities, to meet the aspirations, to fulfil the reasonable hopes of mankind. 324 The Elements of Sociology The masses are dependent upon the guidance and leader- ship of the few ; but the few can guide and lead only if they minister to the actual wants and the legitimate desires of the many. The relation is precisely that which was so clearly expressed generations ago in the words, "And whosoever will be chief among you, let him be your servant." The Real Demands of Democracy^ — What, then, are the real and legitimate demands of the many } What are the satisfactions that must continually be thought about, de- vised, and secured by the intelligence and unselfish activity of the few .-' They are demands for the satisfaction of certain funda- . mental needs, in respect of which all men are born equal. In recent years there has been among the educated a tendency to scoff at this famous phrase from eighteenth- century thought and the American Declaration of Inde- pendence. In many respects men are so obviously unequal — in physical strength, in intelligence, in moral qualities — that when all allowances and modifications have been made, it has seemed that very little meaning has remained in the assertion that men are born equal. If, however, we look a little more deeply into the matter, we discover that, after all, there is still in these words a meaning which it behooves us to understand and to respect. Wherein All Men are Eqnal. — All men are born sub- stantially equal, and throughout life remain substantially equal in respect of all the following needs : I. The need of such material necessaries of existence as food, clothing, and shelter. The amount needed and even the quality needed differ with different individuals ; but the poorest and the weakest, eq.ually with the richest and Democracy 325 the strongest, experience the fundamental need for all these things. 2. The need of satisfaction of the family instinct ; the 1 need of affection, of the love of husband and wife, of parent and child. There are, of course, individuals who seem devoid of this need ; but in most cases the appearance is not the reality, and where it is, it is pathological. 3. The need of opportunity for expansion and develop- ment of life. The desire to satisfy not merely one appe- tite of the body or craving of the mind, but by activity to satisfy every organ, and by free play every faculty, is the fundamental ethical motive — the source of all that we call conscience, of all aspiration for enlargement and growth. This need is common to all mankind. 4. The need of human sympathy and companionship, v especially in suffering. After having shown so fully that the love of companionship is the fundamental passion of society, we need not stop here to prove that it is a funda- mental human need. Perhaps nothing that Abraham Lincoln ever said so clearly revealed the trait that en- deared him to the American people, and at the same time so perfectly demonstrated his wonderful insight into the nature of popular government, as his remark, in defence of the doctrine that all men are born equal, that whatever disparity of fortune or of ability may exist among human beings, all are substantially equal in their capacity for suffering, and in the certainty that during the years of their earthly life they will be obliged to encounter and endure it. In this equality of capacity for suffering, Lincoln saw one of the strongest bonds that unite a democratic people. 5. The need of emancipation from fear. Primitive men 326 The Elements of Sociology have found alleviation in their crude religious beliefs and in their rude forms of social organization. Civilized men have found it in more elaborate and efficient forms of social organization, in nobler forms of religion, in philosophy, and in science. Indeed, so effective in our own day have been these means of relief that many of us now fail to realize how terribly fear has oppressed mankind in the past, and how absolutely equal men are in their deep need of emancipation from its bondage. In all these needs, men are substantially equal. Through- out time, men will insist that wants like these shall be appeased ; and they will not tolerate any form of social organization or of government that fails to meet this fundamental demand. As a matter of historical fact, the popular insistence upon this truth is, and has ever been, the very essence of the democratic movement ; for, in truth, democracy has been far more an insistence that government shall be for the people who are governed, than that it shall be by the people. Insistence that it shall be by the people has been in order that it might more certainly be for the people. Accordingly, the social system that is thought about, perfected, maintained, and administered by those who have the ability to plan and to lead, must be one that meets these fundamental demands of democracy. Any system of laws that endangers material subsistence, that diminishes comfort, that makes the struggle for life an increasingly hard one for the masses, that attacks the essential features of family life, that seems to curtail the opportunity for mental and moral expansion, that weakens the bonds of sympathy, or that attacks the social organiza- tion and the knowledge that emancipate men from the Democracy 327 curse of fear, will be resisted by the masses of the people, and ultimately will be overthrown. Equality, Fraternity, and Liberty. — Besides seeing to it that social policy shall assure the satisfaction of these fundamental needs of mankind, the leaders of thought and activity must give careful attention also to those re- lations between liberty and fraternity, between fraternity and equality, that were explained in the chapter on the Efficiency of Social Organization. As was there shown, liberty in any sense, including that which democracy im- plies, is possible only if there is in the population a good degree of mental and moral homogeneity and of sympathy — a fact which is popularly expressed by the word "fraternity." There must be brotherhood in a large and generous sense, if free institutions are to prevail. But, as we also know, there can be such brotherhood only if a certain approach towards equality of condition is secured. In the historical evolution of human society, nothing has proved to be more fatal to the spirit of brotherhood and to the maintenance of liberty than an unchecked growth of inequality in material conditions, possessions, and power. Necessary Modes of Equality. — Some of the modes of equality upon which fraternity and liberty depend, and which therefore must be sedulously maintained in a democratic community are the following : 1. Political equality ; universal and equal suffrage. 2. Equality before the law; neither wealth, nor privi- lege, nor vice, nor ignorance, to control legislation or to receive consideration in the courts. 3. Equality of opportunity to serve the public accord- ing to the measure of ability ; men of equal ability to 328 The Elements of Sociology have absolutely equal chances of appointment to office under impartial civil service rules, irrespective of party- service or allegiance. 4. Equality of rights in public places and in public conveyances. 5. Equality of sanitary conditions ; all streets to be equally cleaned and cared for, tenement houses to be made decent and wholesome. 6. Equality of opportunity to enjoy certain means of recreation and culture ; in public parks, libraries, mu- seums, and galleries of art. 7. Equality of elementary educational opportunities through a well-administered public school system. 8. Equality of fair play ; especially in all bargaining, between employer and employ^, and in the relations of workingmen to one another. 9. Equality of courtesy ; rich and poor to be treated with equal politeness. 10. Equality of good will to all men. Other modes of equality that, in addition to the above, are essential to fraternity, are those which assure the supremacy of rational over impulsive social action. They are, namely : 1. Equality of regard, for certain fundamental social values, especially {a) respect for law, {b) respect for expert knowledge. 2. Equality of sobriety and calmness of judgment, and of common sense. These modes of equality can be approximately estab- lished by the perfection of an efficient system of public school education, but not by any other means. Finally, there must be maintained also that mode of Democracy 329 equality on which progress depends ; namely, equality of opportunity for potential inventiveness, greatness, and leadership to become actual. Democracy is Ethical Like-Mindedness. — Appreciation of these truths by the community and a practical application of them involve both intellectual agreement and a unity of purpose which, while containing elements of sympathy, contain also the judgments born of rational criticism of the social problem. Such unity is a mode of like-mindedness in which reason and conscience predominate. Democracy, then, in terms of sociological theory, is the 1 outworking or expression of ethical like-mindedness. ' Contributions to Well-being. — We have now in con- cluding this chapter only to mention the contributions made to social organization and human welfare by the third stage of civic evolution. These are, namely : material wealth, the growth of population, the genesis and development of the ethical spirit, and the elaboration of democracy in that large and legitimate sense of the word which has here been explained. PARALLEL STUDY Read Spencer's "Principles of Sociology," Volume II, Part V, Chapter XVIII, and Volume III, Part VIII ; Spyer's '• The Labour Question " ; Stimson's " Hand Book to the Labour Law of the United States " ; WeUs's " Recent Economic Changes " ; Brownell's '• French Traits," Chapter I ; Lecky's " Democracy and Liberty," Chapters I and III; Rose's "The Rise of Democracy"; Matthew Arnold's essay on "Equality"; and James Russell Lowell's essay on "Democracy." CHAPTER XXV The Theory of Society Physical and PsycMcal Processes. — The scientific de- scription of any subject is incomplete until relations are perceived between laws that have been discovered in the group of facts studied, and wider laws that prevail through- out the universe. For example, the subject Biology is not completely ex- plained until the laws of growth and reproduction, of waste and repair, which characterize the group of facts called Biology, are studied in relation to the wider laws of chemical action, of heat, light, electricity, and other mani- festations of physical energy. In other words, the complete explanation of any subject must include an attempt to show that laws inductively dis- covered are deductively inferable from wider principles of cosmic phenomena. In the study of society, we have all along been obliged to look at the facts under consideration from two points of view. The facts have displayed themselves to our mental vision, sometimes in the guise of physical, and sometimes in the guise of mental, phenomena. This has inevitably happened because the individual man is a bun- dle of physical and mental facts, combined in ways that we can partly, but not wholly, understand. His bodily form and activities are as strictly physical facts as are the forms and activities of inorganic things ; while his thoughts, 330 The Theory of Society 331 emotions, and choices are facts of an entirely different order. Nevertheless, as we have from time to time ob- served, it is possible to study some of the relations be- tween thoughts, emotions, and choices on the one hand, and physical energy on the other hand, because, through the mechanism of the nervous system, mental processes are connected in perfectly definite ways with physical facts. Therefore, no study of the individual man would be complete which did not include a double interpretation of his activity, one in terms of laws of physical energy, the other in terms of laws of mental processes. In like manner, no account of society is complete which does not include a similar double interpretation. This does not mean that the sociologist, or the anthro- pologist, or the psychologist, is committed to a dualistic philosophy of the universe. He may be convinced that, in the last analysis which philosophy is competent to make, all mental facts can be explained in terms of phys-, ics — and he therefore may be a monistic materialist ; j or he may be convinced that all physical facts must ulti- mately be explained in terms of thought — and he may , therefore be an idealist. It is not, however, any part of / the business of science to deal with these ultimate prob- lems of philosophy. Science stops short at the point where the possibility of verification ends and knowledge passes into speculation. Verification is a confirmation by the senses of conclusions reached by reasoning. When, for example, the astronomer, through the reasoning pro- cesses of mathematical thought, concludes that an eclipse of the sun will occur in a certain latitude and longitude on a particular day, and that it will begin at a second 332 The Elements of Sociology which also he predicts, his conclusion is verified if the eclipse is actually seen at that place and time. Science is unable to carry the processes of verification into the final problems of philosophy. It cannot, by any independent process of checking or confirming, prove the reasoned-out conclusion of the philosopher that the world is monistic. So far as verification goes, the facts of life will always appear in the two categories, physical and mental; and whatever the philosopher may believe, the scientific man can never prove that the two categories are reducible to one. Philosophy may be monistic ; science, in its account of man, will forever be dualistic. • The scientific account then, of any subject in which man is a factor, must always include two parallel interpre- tations : one physical, the other psychological. Physical Causation and Laws. — Accordingly, let us now look for a moment at the ultimate explanation of facts of human society in so far as they are physical. All move- ments of population, such as birth rates, migrations, and groupings are, of course, physical facts ; and all the labour performed in society is also, of course, a group of physical facts. What, then, is the final explanation, within the limits of verifiable science, of the physical phenomena of human society ? To answer this question, we must call to mind the ele- mentary physical truth that matter and energy are inde- structible, and remember certain important consequences of it; namely, that because matter and energy are inde- structible, there is, throughout the universe, a tendency towards the establishment of a balance or equilibrium of forces ; that all motion is in the line of least resistance ; and that all motion is rhythmical in form. The Theory of Society 333 Every mass of matter contains more or less energy- Heat, light, and electricity no less than gravitation and th- motion of a body through space are modes of energy.* When, therefore, there is any degree of heat, of electricity, or of magnetism, or any possibility of chemical change in a mass of matter, that matter is energetic — it contains energy. All energy is a mode of motion. Heat, for example, is the motion of the minute particles or molecules of matter. Molecular motion can be converted into motion of the mass; as, for example, when the heat contained in steam is converted into the motion of the locomotive. Motion of the mass, in turn, can be converted into molecular motion ; as, for example, when the application of brakes to the wheels of a moving train makes both wheels and brakes hot. Practically, it never happens that the energy contained in any given mass of matter is equal in amount or similar in form to that contained in surrounding objects. Con- sequently, there is a continual interchange of energy be- tween object and object, and between groups of objects and other groups. The tendency is towards a condition of things in which the energies of adjacent bodies are equal and in balance. In this change of energy from body to body and from mode to mode, motion follows the line of least resistance. The Source of Social Energy. — Many activities of a social population find their explanation in terms of these physical principles. The energy of a population is never more than momentarily equal to the active and latent energies of the world about it. Consequently, there is a continual interchange of matter and energy between a 334 The Elements of Sociology population and its environment. The inorganic forces of \ the land and climate are converted into organic and social energies ; social energies again are reconverted into physi- cal forces. All the energy expended in the growth and activity of a population is thus derived from the physical world ; and the activity that any population is capable of manifesting, the degree of advancement in material and moral well- being that it is capable of attaining, in the last resort depends upon the interaction of inherited muscular and nervous energies of the race with the physical resources of the region that it occupies. ,' Density of population depends on the quantity of food / that can be produced either directly by agriculture, or in- • directly through the exchange of manufactured products, themselves produced from the raw materials of the en- vironment. Other things being equal, the activity and progress of society in large measure depend upon the density of the population. A sparse population, scattered over a poor soil, can carry on production only by primitive methods and on a small scale. It can have only the most rudimentary division of labour. It cannot have manufact- uring industries or good roads, or a highly developed intelligence. A highly developed political life, too, is found only where population is compact. Civil liberty, as we have seen, means discussion ; and discussion is dependent on the frequent meeting of considerable bodies of men who have varied interests and who look at life from different points of view. Education, religion, art, science, and lit- erature, also, are all dependent upon a certain density of population. The Theory of Society 33c Population being given, and other things remaining the same, social activity varies with the harvests. Certain social phenomena follow good and bad times with aston- ishing regularity. Among these are the marriage rate, the birth rate, and the death rate. The harvests them- selves depend on the amount of physical energy utilized by society in agricultural operations. Once more, population and harvests remaining the same, social activity depends upon the amount of physi- cal energy utilized otherwise than in producing food. No one can measure, or even estimate, how enormously polit- ical, religious, and educational activities have been multi- plied by steam and electricity. The Line of Least Resistance. — Like all other modes , of motion in the universe, social activity follows the line of least resistance. Population is relatively dense in warm climates. Colonization follows coast lines and river val- leys. Expanding states respect the territory of strong rivals, and encroach upon the domain of the weak. -Aggregations of men are formed where the economic opportunities are greatest ; and there they remain until diminishing returns drive them on to yet newer openings. The concentration of population in cities is but another exemplification of the same law; for the cities, on the whole, afford the best opportunities for employment. It is the line of least resistance that determines also occupations, the course of exchanges, the lines of com- munication, the movements of labour and capital, legislative and administrative policy, and the direction of religious, scientific, and educational movements. Rhythm. — In social as in other activities action and reaction are necessarily equal ; and all motion, therefore, 336 The Elements of Sociology is necessarily rhythmical. Harvests and food supplies are alternately abundant and meagre. Exchanges in fairs and markets are periodic. The balance of international \ trade is ever changing. Industrial depressions alternate with periods of industrial prosperity. The tide of immi- gration rises and falls. War and peace, conservatism and liberalism, alternate. Religion, morals, philosophy, sci- ence, literature, art, and fashion are all subject to the law of rhythm. Evolution. — • In further explanation of the physical as- pects of society, it is necessary to explain the meaning of the word "evolution " in its physical sense. Whenever the internal or molecular motion of any mass of matter is diminished through communication to sur- rounding space or to other bodies, as, for instance, when a heated mass of iron is left to cool, the particles of the body draw more closely together. Whenever molecular motion is absorbed from surrounding space, as when the iron is heated again, the particles separate more widely. In the one case, the mass contracts, and in the other it expands. From time to time in this book we have used the word "integration." In the physical sense, all integration is a drawing together of masses or particles of matter into a more compact whole. All drawing together of masses or particles of matter is integration. Furthermore, integra- tion never takes place except through a loss of contained motion ; and contained motion never is lost without caus- ing integration. Now this process of integration is the first step in what is called "evolution." Whenever an object or mass of matter is so situated that it parts with some of its energy, The Theory of Society 337 as happens, for example, when a hot substance is placed in contact with a cold one, and loses heat, integration and the process of evolution begin. Social Integration. — In the redistributions of matter and motion between society and its environment, either there is a greater increase of mass than of motion in the population, and the change is on the whole one of social integration, or there is a greater loss of matter than of energy, and the change is on the whole one of social disin- tegration. Either population encroaches on the environ- ment, or the environment encroaches on the population. A tendency towards a dispersion of population exists when, concurrently with a multiplication of numbers and an increase of individual energy, industry fails to secure increasing returns. Usually this tendency does not become powerful enough to overcome inertia until the group is large. Until then, therefore, the group holds together, and is subject to any influences that tend to establish further integration. Social Differentiation. — The second step in evolution is called differentiation. It is a process in which different parts of the integrating mass become unlike. Since the units of matter in the integrating mass are in different positions, they cannot be equally affected by the escaping motion. For example, in the mass of cooling iron, the exterior cools more rapidly than the interior; and if the mass is large, it happens that at some stage in the process of cooling the exterior becomes a solid crust, while the interior is still molten. Further changes, due to unequal contraction, may appear in the form of cracks or breaks ; and these may be of the most unequal and unlike character in different parts of the mass. Again, unlike 338 The Elements of Sociology . exposure to like forces, or like exposure to unlike forces, must change the character and the arrangements of the units. If a stream of water is permitted to play upon one part of the molten iron, and a stream of oil upon another part, the two parts in cooling assume unlike characteristics of texture and strength. These facts of differentiation appear in society concur- rently with every increase and concentration of population. This was shown in our account of the beginnings of civili- zation, where, as a result of the integration by conquest of different race elements, one portion was made a subject industrial class. It was further shown in the account of the rise of cities which, rapidly growing by the influx of elements from many different quarters, soon became or- ganized by the appearance of different occupations and professions, beginning with the rise of an artisan class. It was yet further shown in an account of the enormous complication of society in the third stage of demogenic evolution as a result of the increase of population. Social Segregation. — A third stage in evolution is known as segregation. When different kinds and arrangements of units have been produced, like units that are exposed to the same or like forces are affected in like ways. Their similarity becomes more marked, and they are drawn together. In the social population, the external conditions of climate and food group like natures together. Racial likenesses bring together men of like mental and moral qualities, and so constitute the basis of nationality; and like national types, when they have been separated, tend to reunite. Men of like qualities are brought together also by occupations. There is a segregation of politicians. The Theory of Society 339 priests, professional men, literary men, actors and artists, mechanics and labourers. Various sub-groupings result in the formation of political parties, religious sects, and social cliques. This law is strikingly exemplified in the distribution of immigrants. Germans spread westward from New York and Pennsylvania to Illinois and Iowa. Four-fifths of the whole German immigration is found in the northern cen- tral division of the United States. The Irish remain in the East along the coast from New York to Maine. The Swedes and Norwegians seek homes in Minnesota, Wis- consin, and Illinois ; while the great stream of Italian immi- gration sets steadily southward to the Argentine Republic which apparently is destined to be as distinctly an Ameri- can Italy as New England has been an American Britain. Compound Evolution. — A fourth and final stage in the process of evolution is an increase of definiteness and of coherence. It is evident that so long as integration continues, the internal energy of the mass has not wholly disappeared. Furthermore, in no aggregation is the dissipation of motion and the integration of matter wholly unaccompanied by a counter process. Some matter is lost from time to time, and some energy is absorbed. This is a conspicuous phase of evolution in organic bodies. When evolution is thus complicated by an absorption of energy, it is called compound evolution. It is compound inasmuch as the internal motion causes further complications of the evolutionary process. In con- sequence of the new arrangements of matter that are occurring, the internal motion itself undergoes a redistribu- tion within the mass. Thus, there is a further multiplica- 340 The Elements of Sociology tion of effects ; there are new differentiations and new- segregations ; and there is an increasing definiteness of both differentiation and segregation. In the social population, more than in any other mass of matter, is motion simultaneously lost and absorbed. Therefore, a social population is more mobile and more plastic than any other aggregate ; and secondary redis- tributions of matter and motion are more frequent and more complicated in society than elsewhere. Social evo- lution is in the highest degree compound. A high degree of evolution can be attained by society only if the motion lost is but slightly in excess of the mo- tion gained, so that the evolutionary process goes on slowly, allowing abundant time for those small internal secondary changes that have just been mentioned. Rapid growth and quickly accomplished reforms are necessarily unsound, incomplete, and disappointing. Psychical Causation and Laws. — The psychological laws of social activity, no less than the physical laws, are de- ducible from a general principle. The ultimate psychological principle is closely analogous to the physical principle of the indestructibility of matter and motion. Minor and derivative psychological princi- ples are closely analogous to the physical principles, that motion is in the line of least resistance and that the redis- tributions of matter result in a process of evolution. The Ultunate Psychological Motive is the persistent desire of consciousness to be clear and painless and, if possible, pleasurable. Consciousness itself may cease. We cannot say that, like matter, it is indestructible. It may even desire to cease. But so long as it exists, and contemplates existence, its desire to be clear and painless The Theory of Society 341 or positively pleasurable is inextinguishable. Conscious- ness is intolerant of obscurity, perplexity, obstruction, and suffering. The Law of Least Effort. — It is an immediate corollary of this fundamental truth that consciousness endeavours to attain painless clearness or positive pleasure with least difficulty, which is a mode of either perplexity or pain. This principle may be called the law of least effort ; and it is perfectly analogous to the physical law of motion in the line of least resistance. In whatever processes of thought or endeavour we may be engaged, we strive to attain a maximum of clearness or of pleasure in some form, with a minimum of exertion or of pain. This is sometimes called the attempt to secure a maximum of pleasure and a minimum of pain. It is doubtful if such is the best way to express the general law. In the more complicated processes of reasoning, our attention is occu- pied with neither pleasure nor pain. None the less, we endeavour to avoid all unnecessary complications in the reasoning process, and to secure our results as simply and as straightforwardly as possible. Therefore, it is better to include all the modes of consciousness — sensation, percep- tion, attention, memory, reasoning, pain, and pleasure — in our general formula, and to state the law of consciousness in the proposition that consciousness endeavours to attain painless clearness, or positive pleasure, with a minimum of difficulty. In terms of this law, we find our ultimate explanation of that fundamental fact of human society which we have called the consciousness of kind. Ejective Interpretation. — All knowledge proceeds through a comparison of the unknown with the known. This is 343 The Elements of Sociology simply one form of the method of least effort. If, in the object hitherto unknown, we can find something that recalls a state of consciousness heretofore experienced, we have to that extent diminished the difficulties of our observation or investigation. In the opening chapter of this book, it was shown that classification enables us to extend our knowledge to a degree that would be utterly impossible if we had no other means of dealing with new experiences but that of carrying every detail consciously [ in mind. Classification, then, is one of the methods that ^ follow from the law of least effort. And this is the procedure that is followed when individ- uals interpret one another in terms of themselves. They apply the method of least effort in its form of classification to the problem of determining their individual relations to their fellow-men. Discovering that some of their acquaint- ances in certain particulars are very like themselves; that other individuals are much less like themselves ; that yet others are but little like themselves, save in those human qualities that mark the entire species of mankind, they quickly form mental classes that are based upon these degrees of resemblance. This interpretation of others in terms of one's self may be called ejective interpretation. The word "eject" means a mental image of another which is derived largely from one's experiences of one's self. When the child, observing an object that walks, talks, and smiles as he himself does, interprets that object in terms of himself, and concludes that it is a human being like himself, the mental process which has resulted in this conclusion is ejective. The child has mentally thrown him- self into the perceived object, and he understands it because he has done so. The Theory of Society 343 Thus, all interpretation of our fellow-beings is ejective. It proceeds through a comparison of themselves and our- selves in which the various points of resemblance and of difference are observed and classified. Ejective interpre- tation is the intellectual element in the consciousness of kind, which, therefore, is so fat simply a consequence of the law that mental activity follows the line of least effort. The Limits of Sympathy. — But the same is true also of the sympathetic and emotional elements of the conscious- ness of kind. Sympathy and affection go out to those who most resemble ourselves, simply because such is the direc- tion of least difficulty. This was shown in some detail in the account of sympathy in Chapter VI. Sympathy and ) affection, as there described, result from the habits of like response to the same stimuli. Therefore, there is j much material for the genesis of sympathy between re- sembling individuals, and comparatively little between greatly differing individuals. To perfectly satisfy our- selves that the interpretation of sympathy in terms of the law of least effort is the true one, we have only to ask our- selves what happens when we have the feeling that we ought to sympathize with some person or class of persons, as distinguished from a spontaneous outgoing of sympathy towards them Any student who will carefully think over this problem, will have no difficulty in convincing himself that sympathy and affection are simply cases of mental activity in the direction of least effort. The Diversifying of Satisfactions. — Once more, it is equally true that the law of least effort affords us our only interpretation of the desire for recognition. The source of all our satisfactions ultimately is to be found in the external world. We first obtain satisfaction 344 T^f^^ Elements of Sociology of our bodily desires in forms of food and of material com- fort. Soon, however, we discover a principle known to economists, and occasionally referred to in this volume, which may be called the law of incremental utility. Addi- tional quantities of the same means of satisfaction fail to afford us proportionately large returns of pleasure ; or, in other words, beyond a certain point, equal degrees of effort expended in the same direction fail to yield corresponding returns of satisfaction. By changing the means of satis- faction, we for a time obtain increasing returns with dimin- ished effort. Therefore, it is a deduction from the law of least effort that we seek to vary our means of satisfaction. In this search, however, we are still governed by the law of least effort. We seek our means of satisfaction first among objects and activities with which we are already familiar, or that are most like things with which we are familiar. Causes and Limits of the Desire for Recognition. — Among the very earliest pleasures of life are those that we derive from the ministering attentions of mother and other family relatives and friends. It is they who provide us with our first satisfactions of every kind ; and it is their attentions that, by continued association with bodily comfort and by direct stimulation of all our senses, give us increasing pleasure. Therefore, we learn to take delight in recogni- tion and attention by the fellow-beings that are nearest to us. Then, according to the law that we seek to increase satisfaction by searching for new means or new sources of pleasure among objects that most closely resemble those with which we are already familiar, we begin to look for recognition, attention, and sympathy from those The Theory of Society 345 fellow-beings who most closely resemble our immediate family friends and ourselves. Little by little the circle is widened, until we have formed the habit of expecting recognition and sympathy from all human beings, in a gradation that corresponds to their degrees of resemblance to ourselves. Thus, in its entirety, the consciousness of kind is seen to be a consequence of the persistence of mental activity in the lines of least difficulty. The Precedence of Immediate Pleasure. — In the same law lies the explanation of the social principle that society is primarily created by the immediate pleasurableness of companionship, and that the beneficial reactions of asso- ciation, in mutual protection and increasing wealth, are later recognized. It is obvious that immediate pleasure appeals to the mind more directly than considerations of remoter utility. In choosing immediate pleasure in pref- erence to remoter utility, the mind simply follows the law of activity in the direction of least effort. Only when immediate pleasure begins to be a diminishing return, does the mind reach out by a new effort to discover and to obtain the possible remoter utilities. Causes of Impulsive and Formal Conduct. — We pass now to a consideration of those laws of sympathetic and im- pulsive social action, of tradition and authority, and of rational social choice that were formulated in the chapters on The Social Mind. Primary social action is sympathetic and impulsive, and the social action in which a majority of individuals in the population are competent to participate is sympathetic and impulsive for the perfectly obvious reason that sym- pathy and impulse are less difficult than rational self-con- 346 The Elements of Sociology trol. In like manner, conformity to a course of conduct once entered upon, uncritical obedience of authority, un- critical acceptance of belief, are all far easier than inde- pendent judgment. Consequently, formal like-mindedness and conformity to an established order are more general than rational social choice. Causes of Rational Conduct. — How, then, can it possibly happen that rational social choice can occur at all .■• The answer is, because, in accordance with the law of least effort, we are compelled from time to time to vary our means of satisfaction. Sympathetic and formal like- mindedness yield diminishing returns. Impulsive social action frequently proves to be enormously costly and destructive. Formal like-mindedness, conformity to tradi- tional belief and authority, as was shown in the chapters on Civilization and Progress, carry us a long way towards the attainment of social and material satisfactions ; but beyond a certain point they bar further progress. They stand in the way of the further exploitation of new means of satisfaction. When this point is reached, further activity in the line of least effort is necessarily rational. It is the attempt to secure satisfactions by indirect means, as was explained in Chapter XIII, after direct means have failed. This process, however, begins subjectively in individual minds before it becomes an objective organi- zation of social cooperation. Here again, in accordance with the law of least effort, it begins in those most highly developed minds in which it is least difficult. These are the comparatively few. For this reason, rational social choice, the formation of true public opinion, and the rational leadership of social activity are, and must always continue to be, the function of the few. The Theory of Society 347 Specific Laws. — We might here continue to show in detail that the specific laws of the growth of impulsive social action by geometrical progression, of the strength of authority and tradition in proportion to their antiquity, and in proportion to the predominance of belief over reasoned conclusions are all corollaries of the fundamental psychological principles ; but these the student will have no trouble in thinking out for himself. The same is true of the specific laws of rational choice, of preference, of combination, and of means. Causes of Civilization and Progress. — Finally, we have to point out that the laws of social organization, of civiliza- tion, and of progress are all, in like manner, corollaries of the fundamental psychological principle. Nothing is easier than for men who understand one another to live, without coercive government, because they can anticipate one another's conduct, and can depend upon each other's good faith and kindly intentions. Therefore, to a com- munity of such men, liberty is possible. To a community of extremely heterogeneous men, it is impossible because of the insuperable mental difficulty of sympathy and com- prehension. Civilization we found to be a product of the passion for homogeneity, and its policies to be expressions of that passion. No passion is more immediately a conse- quence of the persistence of consciousness in the paths of least difficulty than is the desire to overcome the hinderances to sympathy, to mutual agreement, and to social organiza- tion that present themselves in a chaos of mental and moral qualities. To assimilate these to a common type is the first step towards achieving the satisfactions of civilization with least effort. The toleration of variety, of criticism and discussion, 348 The Elements of Sociology in their turn, are those later consequences of mental activity in the lines of least difficulty that appear when the returns of immediate satisfaction through homogeneity begin to diminish. A few pages back, it was said that the mental and moral consequences of activity in the line of least difficulty are analogous to evolution in physical phenomena. How this comes about has been partially indicated in a preceding paragraph. When immediate satisfactions, obtained by any given kind and degree of effort, begin to diminish, the outreach- ing of the mind for new means of satisfaction is analogous to the equilibration of energy between a material mass and its environment. The immediate consequence is an integration of consciousness. The sum total of experi- ences, of knowledge, of sensations, is increased. In the very process of integration, however, differentiation and segregation begin. New pleasures and a continual in- crease of satisfaction, in proportion to effort, come only with variation in the means of satisfaction and through a putting forth of effort in that new and indirect mode which we call reason. In the social passion for homo- geneity, we see the process of integration; in the de- velopment of discussion and of criticism, we see mental differentiation and segregation. These higher intellectual processes, therefore, are differential consequences of mental activity in the paths of least effort, as truly as physical dif- ferentiation is a consequence of equilibration in the lines of least resistance. Intellectual Strife. — One further analogy discloses a law of the psychological process in human society that is of more momentous practical importance than any other. The Theory of Society 345 Compound evolution and continuing differentiation in the physical world were shown' to depend upon the com- parative slowness with which the contained energy of any material mass is dissipated. A too rapid integration re- sults in a speedy termination of evolution, and prevention of those more delicate transformations that can occur only through the slow redistribution of contained motion. Thus it appears that, although differentiation depends upon integration, beyond a certain point the rate of differ- entiation varies inversely with the rate of integration. In the description of conflict in Chapter IV, it was shown that those secondary conflicts which include the pleasura- ble activities of thought, sympathy, association, and dis- cussion are dependent upon the ruder forms of primary conflict. Primary conflict is essentially identical with in- tegration, and secondary conflict with differentiation. Now, in the psychical processes of society, homogeneity, as was set forth in the chapter on Civilization, and in the chapters on Sympathetic and Formal Like-mindedness, is not infrequently brought about by an extremely rapid in- tegration. On the psychological side, primary conflict or rapid integration is a rapid discharge of motor impulse. Its external expression is the use of physical force in war- fare and persecution. These methods, then, are inconsist- ent with that high degree of evolution which includes the more delicate adaptations. In terms of the process itself, this is expressed by saying that, just as the rates of differentiation and integration beyond a certain point vary inversely, so, beyond a certam point, the rates of physical and intellectual strife vary inversely. This means, first, that all harsh, passionate attempts to 350 The Elements of Sociology hasten organization by coercive methods are subversive of the higher intellectual actfvities. It means, secondly, that intellectual strife gradually diminishes physical strife with all its wastefulness and misery. It means, finally, that only through the supremacy of intellectual over physical strife can the higher and finer results of social evolution be attained. So far, then, from its being a duty for men and women to suppress their intellectual convictions, to yield tamely their independently thought-out views of truth and right and policy, in the mistaken notion that intellectual conten- tion is disreputable or unmannerly or unkind, as are the forms of physical strife, the precise opposite is true. In- tellectual strife makes for rational, and ultimately for ethi- j cal, like-mindedness ; it makes for peace, prosperity, and happiness. The highest duty of every rational being is to engage with sincere and disinterested earnestness in the glorious contests of intellectual strife. The Two Processes. — Thus social evolution is primarily a physical process. Physical laws determine the aggre- gation, the growth, the movements, and arrangements of population ; they determine the amount, the kinds, and the combinations of social activities. But within aggregations of men, mental activities are continually asserting themselves and working themselves out in conformity to psychological law. In this process the human mind, aware of itself, deliberately forms and carries out policies for the organization and perfection of social life, in order that the great end of society, the per- fection of the individual personality, may be completely attained. Society is not a purely mechanical product of physical evolution. To a great extent it is an intended product of psychological evolution. The Theory of Society 3 5 1 Social Survival. — Nevertheless, the final forms that social relations assume, the institutions, laws, and policies that are ultimately incorporated in social organization and activity, are determined, not by conscious social choice, but by a process of survival, which is itself conditioned by cosmic law over which man has no control. In fine, the ultimate forms of society are determined by a process of natural selection and survival. Not all objects of social choice are long-enduring. Many social rules and forms that were once sanctioned by the social mind have become only a memory ; thou- sands of laws and institutions have become extinct. Ex- isting social values and arrangements are survivals. Social products sometimes disappear through the extinc- tion of races, communities, or classes. Usually, however, the relations, forms, laws, and institutions that perish fail through the indifference and defection of those individuals who have undertaken to maintain them. The political, industrial, rehgious, or other associations that cease to exist usually fail through a decrease of their membership ; and laws become a dead letter because the community ceases to care or think about them. Con- versely, the social forms, laws, and institutions that sur- vive, persist through their power to hold the interest and allegiance of individuals who are able to enforce or to sup- port them. In the long run, all such power to interest and to hold allegiance springs from utility. It is when the law or the institution ceases to benefit that its power over men fails. Natural Selection. — As thus brought about, the survival and the extinction of forms, laws, and institutions is a true natural selection. 352 The Elements of Sociology Natural selection is commonly thought of as a survival of individuals through some superiority of organization. This, however, is an inadequate conception of the actual process. In the struggle for existence, an organism perishes if its food-getting, food-assimilating, or other vital organs fail to perform their functions, or perform them in maladjustment to environment and conditions. A race, in like manner, perishes if the reproductive organs fail in function. Conversely, any superiority of function, whether due to a beneficial variation in organization or to any other cause, insures survival. Natural selection, therefore, is survival through a supe- rior adaptation and performance of function, in a com- petition in which non-adaptation or non-performance of ^function is fatal. And this is exactly what happens among social forms, laws, and institutions. The failure to benefit, to interest, and to hold allegiance is a failure of function ; and the selection that results among laws and institutions from successes and failures of function is therefore a true natural selection. The Law of Survival. — The successful performance of functions by institutions, as by vital organs, depends upon an increasing nicety of adaptation to an ever-complicating environment. " The environment " is an ever-changing group of rela- tions. Like the thing or organism environed, it is under- going ceaseless evolution, and is becoming more and more diversified through differentiation. Accordingly, the law of the survival of social interests and relations — forms, laws, and institutions — is as fol- lows : Those social valuations and relations persist which are The Theory of Society 353 component parts of a total of values and relations that is becoming ever more complex through the inclusion of new interests and nczv relations, and at the same time more thor- oughly harmonious and coherent. Thus, social causation is a process of psychical activity conditioned by physical processes and cosmic law. PARALLEL STUDY Read Spencer's " First Principles," Part II ; Ward's " Outlines of Sociology," or "Psychic Factors of Civilization"; Kidd's "Social Evolution"; and Mackenzie's "Introduction to Social Philosophy," Chapters III, IV, V. THE PRINCIPLES OF SOCIOLOGY. An Analysis of the Phenomena of Association and of Social Organization. By FRANKLIN HENRY GIDDINGS, M.A., Professor of Sociology in Cohtmbia University in the City of New York. (Columbia University Press.) 8vo. Cloth, pp. xvi. 476. Price $3.00, net. K v'^^^kT^''"^ -"^ ^^^ whole work is clear and satisfactory. There are four books. The first gives as the Elements of Social Theory, and embraces the pro' foundest matters m the volume _ Book II. is descriptive -The Elements and Struct- ure of Society. Book III. ,s historical -The historical Evolution of Society and contams the new and suggestive order of chapters on Zobgenic Association/then Anthropogenic, then Ethnogenic, then Demogenic. In this chapter the clearest account to be found is given of the transition to the Stale by the destruction of the tnbal relations and not by the development of the family. Book IV. closes all fittinelv with Social Progress, Law, and Cause."— r^^ Post Gradttate and IVooster Quarterly. _ '_' The book is especially valuable because of the clearness and fulness with which It discusses the psychical elements in social evolution. " Professor Giddings has done good service by his clear exposition of the present stage of sociology, and he has made a distinct and valuable contribution to the sub- ject. The book is also timely, and will doubtless have wide reading and command the attention of all students of the subject, not only because of Professor Giddings' acknowledged standing as a sociologist, but because of its intrinsic value. The style is particularly lucid, and the tone of the book is judicial throughout." — TAi? Bookman. " This is a book which has long been awaited with eager expectation by students of sociology. We have a valuable treatise which will, we believe, for many years to come be the text-book on this subject. " Professor Giddings' work has in a high degree that most valuable characteristic of a contribution tohuman thought, suggestiveness. His discussion of the evolution of culture and tradition in his chapter on ' Demogenic Association ' is especially rich in suggestion. " Professor Giddings' book is highly stimulating. He is a vigorous thinker and a strong writer, and he has a broad knowledge of his subject and its various affiliations, which Is as refreshing as it is unusual in this day of scientific specialists and non- scientific sociologists. "The book Is well indexed and is accompanied by a valuable classified bibliography, — valuable, but by no means exhaustive." — The New Unity. " Is of great interest. Students of the comparatively new science of sociology will give a hearty welcome to Professor Giddings' book." — Boston Daily Advertiser. " His volume is a brilliant, fascinating, and Important contribution to a subject which is engaging the sustained labors of our foremost scholars, and the attention and interest of our publicists." — The Philadelphia Evening Bulletin. " In a science so modern scarcely more can be done than to set forth theories in a tentative manner, recording those of others while drawing conclusions of one's own. This Professor Giddings has done In an exposition so logical and clear that the book, itself a landmark In the progression of the science, can never be outgrown as a work of reference." — The Chicago Tribune. " The work is on an entirely new basis. There is nothing like it in literature. A glance at the table of contents will convince any one that it is a model of method. We feel convinced that as soon as it becomes known it will he accepted as an authority ; and its value, coming in all its completeness at this early stage of the study of this science, cannot be exaggerated." — Minneapolis Tribune. THE MACMILLAN COMPANY, 66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK. THE THEORY OF SOCIALIZATION. A Syllabus of the Principles of Sociology. FOR THE USE OF COLLEGE AND UNIVERSITY CLASSES. By FRANKLIN HENRY GIDDINGS, Professor of Sociology in Columbia University. With References to "The Principles of Sociology" by the same Author. Pamphlet Form. 8vo. 60 cents, net. " The Theory of Socialization " is intended for the use of college and university classes. This book and " The Principles of Sociology " together constitute a text-book for the advanced student of the subject. "The Theory of Socialization" presents the chief theoretical principles of sociology in a compact form and consecutive order, and illustrates many of them with new examples. The consciousness of kind is fully analyzed, and the modes of resemblance which underlie the conscious- ness of kind are described in detail. The reaction of the consciousness of kind upon the individualistic motives is explained, and it is shown that it is through the modification of individualistic motives by the consciousness of kind that the true social forces arise. The process by which these social forces are developed into an organized social control is fully treated, and a practical bearing is given to the whole philosophy of the subject by an examination of its relation to the democratic pro- gramme of liberty, equality, and fraternity. THE MACMILLAN COMPANY, 66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEVT" YORK.